Creativity is something that is nurtured, not manufactured. The problem with “creative” work is that, well, it’s still work.

Rest of American Christian World: You’re missing out.

It’s 2:50 p.m. as of this writing, and I’ve got another couple hours of relaxing to do before church begins. And since my wife is away and my kids are napping, I’ve returned to the dreaded athletic club ads and found within myself a new ray of light.

Creativity is something that is nurtured, not manufactured. And the problem with “creative” work is that, well, it’s still work — there are deadlines and colleagues and time constraints and all that. So a Sunday out of the office, with fresh air and peace and quiet, may be making all the difference.

It’s a struggle, though. Ever since the days of Foxhole, I’ve been fighting — with myself, my family, my employers — for more of this peace and quiet; my soul is truly soothed by time alone, and it’s time I get little of. In order to get it, I either have to plan meticulously (Shelley is quite the planner and takes offense at my natural tendency not to give a second thought to her wishes or plans to be spontaneous) or else just say “screw it,” do it and deal with the consequences later. And with two jobs and two kids, it’s just something I’m having to get used to not having.

Which makes me thankful for the new job: It gives me a creative outlet even during the workday, and the wonderful office I inhabit offers places for quiet contemplation. In theory, at least. But there are too many irons in the fire this minute, and the quality of my thoughts is suffering because of it.

So, I guess what I mean to say is this: Remember the sabbath, and keep it restful. Yes, I’m thinking about work… but my sins are forgiven. Right?

Matt of E+F, Laryssa and Gabe of Lil Dragon, and the author (behind camera) get their creative juices flowing.

At E+F, we work with an outfit out of Nashville called Lil Dragon Entertainment. Gabe and his cohorts help us translate our ideas onto video, mostly for television commercials. He’s been busy lately, and so have we, on a number of projects: WKU Football commercial, Web-only ad for WKU Alumni Association, new Bowling Green Athletic Club commercials, and a coming trip to Auburn to do Auburn’s men/women basketball commercials. The first and last are to be dramatic, the middle ones humorous.

That said, here are my memories of our meeting over Spencer’s fare yesterday:

“So let’s talk first about the Alumni Association.”

“Can I get bacon on that sandwich?”

“Yeah sure. So anyway, this thing looks like a disaster so far.”

“Um, well …”

“It’s too long –”

“– the coach is just awful –”

“– well he’s not as bad as the ‘grandma.’”

“Agreed. Grandma is just terrible.”

“They do know, right, that we’re aiming to make it look really bad?”

“Hmm. I don’t think they really get the whole concept.”

“I’m going to order my sandwich.”

“Okay… no wait. What’s with the squiggly lines on that first shot anyway?”

“It’s supposed to look like VHS.”

“But it doesn’t.”

“Well of course not. But it’s supposed to look like it.”

“Right… I’m just saying, it just looks all messed up.”

“Yeah, that’s what VHS looks like. Get it?”

“Not really…”

“Well it’s not done yet.”

“But we have to fix it before it’s ‘done’.”

“Right.”

“I don’t understand why the guy’s on a treadmill.”

“You mean BAC?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s riding a bicycle on a treadmill! It’s funny!”

“Why is that funny?”

“Well see, it’s like he could be at BAC, on their high-tech stationaries. But instead he’s at his house, on his bike, on a treadmill.”

“But who would do that?”

“Nobody! That’s why it’s funny.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s just weird.”

“What if he was in a tae-bo class, but when the camera zooms out we see he’s really fighting a ninja?”

“For a workout?”

“I don’t know. It’s kinda funny.”

“But it doesn’t make sense.”

“Right.”

“Is that the new Macbook?”

“Yeah.”

“You like it?”

“I guess so…”

“What if the guy had set up an obstacle course in his house, and he’s riding his bike around it –”

“What’s with you and the bike?”

“I don’t know. I like bikes.”

“Too many actors. Do you know what the budget is on this?”

“No. Do you?”

“Oh great. We don’t know the budget either, huh?”

“Well, the girl getting the towel snapped on her arse is pretty funny.”

“We can’t do that!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know! It just doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s funny!”

(Everyone laughing, but not because the idea is funny)

“These ideas all suck. When are they supposed to be presented?”

“On Tuesday.”

(Collective groan)

“OK: What if the guy is in a workout class, and when we zoom out we see he’s working out with a bunch of senior citizens?”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. He’s in workout class with his mom at the nursing home?”

“No old people. They’re too hard to work with.”

“What if it was a mom, and we see she’s working out with her four kids?”

“No kids. They’re too hard to work with.”

“What if it was a fat guy –”

“No no no! I don’t like that angle; it makes fun of fat people.”

“But everybody makes fun of fat people.”

“So?”

“So you’re saying we can basically film 20-something people who are in good shape.”

“Yes.”

“But those people don’t need to go to the gym.”

“Right…”

“What if they were homeless –”

“–too many costumes.”

“Hippies?”

“No.”

“Thugs?”

“Too urban.”

“Sex addicts!”

“Dude. Don’t make fun of his mom!”

“Your mom.”

“That’s what she said!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“So?”

“So?”

“So… well, we have no ideas and four ads to finish and no budget.”

“Right.”

(Silence)

“Are the milkshakes good?”

“Of course. They’re delicious.”

A glimpse at our proposal. ©Earnhart+Friends 2009. Not for distribution. Identifying features removed.

The past few days have been really busy ones… I’ve worked further on developing Western Kentucky University’s football TV campaign, as well as a related campaign for the WKU Alumni Association (hint: Big Red, Gary Ransdell, an elderly woman and a elbow drop). The designers and I finished up work on a “creative exploratory” — a fancy term for a proposal on how a new campaign might look — then presented it this morning to a fast-growing bank chain headquarted in the region.

Turns out, my ideas aren’t so bad after all… they really dug it, and it looks like they’ll go from prospect to serious client very soon. More interesting, though, is the feeling of positive feedback… it’s something we weren’t good at in newsland, and it’s probably been months (if not years) since I heard “good job!” and felt like the person saying it really meant it.

I guess all jobs have their ups and downs, and I’ve dealt with a few minor headaches here already. But today’s been a good day, and I’m not ashamed to say so.

So far, I’ve worked on a “creative exploration” for a growing bank in the region; rewritten a direct-mail piece I thought was “done” months ago; drafted new copy for an ad touting a certain industrial complex’s “green” features (which, honestly, are few); filled out tax forms; perused eBay for a power source, which is lacking from the otherwise fine Apple display on my desk.

I’ve also wondered whether or not I have a truly original, truly interesting “campaign” in me… and, if I do, will any of our relatively conservative clients go for it?

A glimpse at the interior of my new career... the old newsroom has no windows! But I'm getting ahead of myself...

I didn’t even know what a copy editor did, but soon I was in charge of the thing, overseeing a revolving staff of 0-2 people in the proofreading of stories. I did a stint as opinion editor, where I really crafted my writing style, but soon took a part-time job at the town’s actual newspaper, the Bowling Green Daily News.

A few months later, part-time became full-time; a few months after that, I got promoted to weekend editor: basically, the guy who runs the show when no one else wants to because they have lives outside the office. Here I added to my knowledge, learning page design and news judgment and some management skills.

A couple years later, burnt out from all that jazz, I bought a coffeeshop. (Note, I had not — and still have not — returned to college). Which I still have, and which is cool, but it doesn’t quite “pay the bills” for a married dad of two kiddos, one of whom is special-needs. So I headed back to the newspaper, got my old job back, and kept the coffeeshop… thus making me a “beancounting journalist,” to paraphrase my friend Nathan’s astute observation, which links back to a Kurt Vonnegut quote.

Well, late last night the beancounting journalist made yet another stark departure: I accepted an offer to become the Creative Director of Earnhart+Friends, a boutique (read: small but good) marketing firm based here in Bowling Green.

It’s truly a blessing, for a number of reasons. The schedule is more flexible (this helps my family and my business), the job is more creative and less cyclical (new projects every day, few if any “rules” that have to be followed), and — let’s face it — journalism isn’t the field anyone wants to find him/herself stuck in these days. (It’s not a terrible gig, but an escape plan is a must.) A close friend of mine is the Art Director, which means he and I will essentially be the firm’s top-tier tag team (underneath the owner, of course). And to find a job like this in a town like this is a dream come true… I am certain it is the only one of its kind in a 90-mile radius, at least.

In the previous few months I’ve taken part in writing TV scripts, rebranding a widely available retail milk, conceptualizing a new restaurant, crafting a new direction for the company itself — and all freelance, while keeping the other flaming clubs of my life going up and down in this juggling routine. Come July, however, my days as a muckraker are over — at least for now. What the future holds, I can’t tell. But the present is looking pretty good.

Oh! And the millions of you reading this will be glad to know that I’ll probably be able to get a bit more blogging done too.

I started counting the ridiculous aspects of this little ad, quickly ran out of fingers and had to desock.

1.) How, exactly, can the single word “UGLY” be trademarked? Or is it the combo of the word and the — ahem! — typography?

2.) The after picture: Cleaned up, or just a more powerful flash?

3.) A Google search for “plastigated reconstruction” (“used by NASA on space craft”) brings up one — as in UNO, SINGULAR, ONE — reference on the entire World Wide Web… and it’s to this guy’s ad!!!

And LIMITED EDITION 13 CD COLLECTION??? Does the extended warranty cover that, too? BTW, I know for a fact that Elvis and the guy who comes to clean your tub are one and the same. (Wonder if there’s a “Singin’ in the Shower” special?)

The name and contact info were deleted, by me, so you won’t prank call this poor guy all day and night (as I am already doing). And please refrain in any comments from typing the full name of his business, lest he find this on Google.

There’s actually a full-page version of this, if you can believe it.