Ad Aged.

I've been in the "ad biz" for more than 23 years. To you youngsters out there, that means I started before there were computers in the offices. I started when there were still things called "marker comps." I started when there was no internet, cell phones were big monstrosities like Radar used on M*A*S*H, and you had to use hot wax to place copy on a layout. It was friggin' awesome. Yeah, I'm like one of those old farts who yells at the kids on their front lawn and complains that the good ole' days are gone. The kind of rambling that usually leads to the phrase, "you don't know how good you've got it now." I get the looks from my twenty-something co-workers every time I start a sentence with the phrase, "I remember when..." It's that look they probably give to their parents, knowing that someday they'll have to change their adult diapers and wipe the slobber from their chin.

I can go on and on about how computers have taken over and ideas have suffered for it. So much time is spent on making the spec piece look perfect that the actual concept is secondary to visual, font and layout. The client used to see a drawing done in marker, lines where copy was meant to be, and body copy typewritten (and I mean from a typewriter), stapled to the layout. It was all about the concept. Like I said, I can go on and on about it, but I won't. Good work is still getting done out there. Somewhere.

What I really want to go on and on about is all the fun I actually had back then. Yes, I remember when...working in Philly ad agencies was friggin' fun. Some of my best friends were found through the time spent working together at various ad agencies. It's hard to believe we actually got work done back then with all the insanity going on. I'll name some names, only because if you're lucky enough to know some of these great folks, then you'll get the stories even more. We were more than just creative in our work. We were creative in having fun.

The first major agency I worked for in the city was Ketchum, back in the late '80s. It was a time when clients had big budgets, and agencies had more than a day to create an ad campaign. There was some major talent at that agency at that time. And many were talented at screwing around. We had happy hours every Friday afternoon starting at 4:00 sharp. It was a small scale Mad Men moment. The management team once put up $75 for me to eat the worm from the bottle of Tequila. Easy money. Not out of place at a corner bar. But it took place in the wood paneled boardroom.

We rode bikes through the hallways. Smoked in our offices. And lit small fires. We had one guy spray paint a drawing table, and the fumes were so bad, they had to send a couple pregnant women home. We stapled slices of ham to the lunchroom wall and made creepy announcement over the loudspeaker. One of my heroes, an old school art director named Frank Campana, was an ascot-wearing kind of guy who probably sniffed too many Sharpies in his day. But a damn fine art director. I once coated the bottom of a big metal ashtray with Bestine. As I smoked I tossed the match into the ashtray on the floor of his office. A tower of flame shot out of it, then quickly was gone. It left an acrid smell of chemicals in the air and it nearly gave Frank a heart attack. But Buzz and Shawn, Ray and the rest of us peed our pants laughing, and Frank needed an extra martini that night.

I used to play Tom Jones' "It's not unusual" loudly in my office, and several of us would dance on my desk. I was thinner then and I haven't danced on a desk since then either.

Time passed, and we moved into a new building. Michael B., our copy director had the first computer. One of those early Macs. We were amazed. So we figured we'd fuck with him. We put a walkie talkie in the ceiling over his computer. Then proceeded to say things throughout the day as if he were intercepting messages from some of the construction workers on the upper floors. He swore his computer was picking up the voices. After he complained to the office manager, who was in on the joke, I began making threatening messages about the "prick on the 32nd floor complaining about our walkie talkies." Not sure if Mike B. ever figured it out.

Buzz kept a tape recorder on pause in his cube. If anyone had to fart, they would go in there, put their butt on the microphone and let it rip. We called it the "Beef Tape." Everyone did it. From Sam, the president, to Karen, the copywriter. We had 45 minutes of noisy wind on tape for all prosperity. Why? Because farts are friggin' funny, no matter how old you are. In fact, Buzz once lit a fart in my cube and fell backwards, taking the entire wall down with him. Yeah, like I said, farts are funny.

At RB&T, now the Star Group, we once held a Hawaiian luau while the entire management team was away on a trip to Hawaii. We even brought in a whole roasted pig. Put it right in the middle of the marble conference room table. Another time, I began filling an art director's office with balloons while he was away on vacation. The best part was, everyone got involved. Each time someone passed, they would blow one up and toss it in. Saved me a lot of breath.

Over the next few years, there were lots of other places and lots of other people. I worked with one of my best friends, Jim, at three different agencies. First, at the stiff-upper-lipped Reimel-Carter, where we actually had to wear a tie everyday. So naturally, I went out and bought every vile, obnoxious neckwear I could find. From a Buckwheat tie to a tie with King Kong on it. So, obviously there wasn't much fun going on there. Made some good friends, and we laughed and smoked in the stairwell, but no dancing on desks or sneaking video cameras into the ladies room.

When Jim and I worked together again at a different place, our big thing was tossing paper airplanes out of the window, often right down to the busy 16th and Walnut intersection. We once made one out of a 3'x 2' sheet of paper. This thing was gigantic. It flew like an anchor, right onto the top of a passing bus. By this time, the internet was exploding. I was online, chatting and playing games. Interaction with co-workers started dwindling.

Over the past several years, and several agencies, that interactive influence has definitely dampened some of the craziness that went on in those early days. But with the right mix of people, fun can still be contagious. At another agency in Center City, Elkman/Alexander, I found myself working with Buzz again, along with a bunch of other talented wackos. We used to screw with the little creative director guy. He was a bit short, so outside his office, we posted a note with an arrow, reading, "You must be this tall to be creative director." He was so oblivious, we once replaced the big framed black and white picture behind his desk with a black and white picture of boobs. He didn't notice it for almost two weeks. Even the female president thought it was hilarious.

At Brownstein, we once videotaped one of the art directors throwing a full chocolate cake out the window. It flew across the back alley and smashed across the roof of an SUV parked on the top level of the parking garage across the way. The alarm went off, but it didn't deter us from making sure we videotaped the owner coming out later to discover the chocolaty mess on his car. Okay, it was kind of mean, but funny as shit.

It's amazing how many of those agencies are gone. Ketchum, Reimel/Carter, Weightman, Elkman. And now, as I chat via IM with a co-worker who is just a few feet away, it puts it all in perspective. That personal interaction just isn't as prevalent anymore. People don't get up and run over to their co-workers desk, let alone dance on it. You have instant connection to your friends outside the office from your computer. You can send funny emails or links to funny videos. Or put on your headphones and just listen to music. But, here I go again, doing the old wheezer crap and pining over the "good ole days."

It's good to get together every so often with those people that I spent so much time concepting with, creating with, farting. We reminisce about those times and laugh alot about the crap we used to pull.

Of course, we do it mostly via e-mail.