OiO

Outside Inside Out. Tracy Jones.

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The Fridge is the Magnet.

: 

Or, "You know what you want. Get on it."

Post #8: February 5, 2015.

Nice to be back. Outside Inside Out is all about reflecting on things we observe in our day-to-day comings and goings and finding insights that we can apply to our work life. Mostly. Let’s see where this one takes us. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

I remember when I was a teenager (actually, up until I was around 30) my mother used to say to me, “when you have kids of your own, you’ll understand”. The other day I was sitting at the dining room table where I often work and my son Ryland (previously immortalized in my “Chocolate Milk” post) made his way downstairs with the grace of a herd of veal, walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

He stood there for what seemed an eternity. He was in my direct line of sight over the top of my laptop, so I was able to observe him without drawing too much attention. It was amusing to study the changing expressions on his face. It was like there was a cosmic ballet taking place inside the fridge as an infinite number of imaginary snacks appeared for a millisecond and then just as quickly – poof! – they were gone.

I think it might have been when I sensed my feet getting a chill when the cold weather front created by the open fridge made it to me in the dining room, that I barked out something predictably parental like: “Ryland, make up your mind and close the fridge, you’re wasting electricity!” 

Really, Tracy, is that all you got?

Sorry, I digress. It got me thinking about this void we find ourselves in at times where we get stuck, unconsciously choosing not to choose as if we didn’t know what we really want (or need) to do in the first place. I wrote a post earlier in defence of creative procrastination. This is not that. This is the dark side.

Since I started TraceElements, I’ve become wary of “standing in front of the fridge”. When you don’t have an agenda dictated to you by a company, it’s up to you. It’s honestly one of the most challenging things about running your own show.

The fridge is a powerful magnet. You wake up with great intention. You get out of bed at a reasonable time, make some coffee and think a bit about your To Do list. Then it happens. You innocently say to yourself, “I’ll just check the weather” or “Hmm, I wonder what’s up on facebook” or “Hey, look at those crazy squirrels in the backyard.” Squirrels. Before you know it, it’s noon, you’re still in your stretchy pants and you haven’t done anything productive. Or billable. 

Take a minute and think about your “fridge”. If you’re stuck, take some time and ask yourself if you’re sabotaging yourself from making decisions and moving forward. You know what you want. You know what you need to do. Close the fridge. Inhale. Exhale. Commit. 

Mom, I get it. Time to get to work.

[traceelementsoio]

Stuck for an idea? Try looking for love.

Or, In defence of creative procrastination.

Post #7: November 10, 2014. 

I usually begin with an anecdote based on personal experience which applies, in my mind, to business. Today, I’m going the other way around so it’s “Inside Outside In” this week. Roll with it.

One of the most enduring clichés in advertising is that creative people are famous for putting off doing the work until the last minute. (Truth is, I think everybody is guilty of this but I’ll put off that debate 'til later.) In some cases, we deserve the jabs, but I believe this procrastination is often mislabeled. 

(Great) ideas are evasive. The quest kicks off with a moment of sheer panic called “the briefing”. I remember an early mentor of mine telling me that every time she received a creative brief she experienced a moment of terror. She would say to herself “well, that’s it… I got nothin’. This is the one where they’ll figure me out and show me the door.”

I realized later that lots of ad creatives feel this way. That powerful little voice of doubt that that stalks us in our subconscious seems to be pretty common in the media arts; I think it’s because we feel really lucky to get paid to do what we do and we feel guilty about it because it’s a pretty natural extension of our quirky personalities and criss crossed wiring. 

The thing is, because that wiring looks like a MacGyver Rescue Plan schematic, it’s hard to bottle the process and guarantee success. It takes time to get rolling, but ever shrinking deadlines (and development budgets) mean there’s little time to “sleep on it” - all that adds to the pressure to perform. Inevitably, yeah, sometimes we get stuck. “Is that it? Am I out of ideas? Have I lost it? Hey look at that cat video! Can we go for tacos?”

So having a personal process is important. (Do you have one?) What we do is an applied art, not art for its own sake. Start there but always know, deep down, there is always an idea. You just need to know where to look for it.

Which brings me to my two kids. 

My first son Kyle was my whole world. When he was little he was the quintessential little boy’s boy with his curly blondish hair, blue eyes, Osh Kosh overalls, Thomas the Tank Engine conductor cap and those little running shoes that lit up in the heels as he ran around. My heart's lighting up just remembering it as I write. Five years later, I wondered how I could divide the love I felt for him with a second kid when Ryland came along. But (obviously) one can, because love is infinite - just waiting to be summoned from within you.

What does this have to do with ideas? I propose that the things that characterize “love” are many of the same things that great ideas have built into them.

They are both rooted in passion. There is intensity around them. They spark imagination. There is certainty in their presence. They create longing and desire to see them grow. There’s a sense of knowing and wisdom. They have an element of transcendency - simple, human truth.

When you’re stuck on a problem, try spending some time focused on the things you really love, or even what it means to really love. I’ll bet it helps get you out of the rut and will get you to something good. 

Oh, and by the way, remember there are forces that are very common in life and business that are love wreckers and idea killers. See them coming, look them in the eye and lovingly tell them to f*#k off. Beware insecurity, defensiveness, desperation, rushing, possessiveness (me), jealousy and laziness. 

What do you love? Look inside and bring it out there. Now that’s an idea.

Until next time.

T

[traceelementsoio]

Zig Zagging your way out of a Groundhog Day Career

Or, what your Random Playlist says about you.

Post #6 - September 8, 2014.

OutsideInsideOut is all about learning from experience in the real world, applying that to our careers in the communication arts and translating that experience into usable insights. This week, I’m back after a break and reflecting on taking risks and being “new”.

I’m starting a new band. It’s not as easy as it sounds. Finding three of four other musicians who have the talent and time to commit is hard enough. We have that sorted. Now, the real challenge begins. If you plan on forming a “cover band” (playing popular songs by other bands), you need to agree on what songs you’re going to play. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have lost weeks of my life debating the merits of various songs with bandmates. I’ve seen bands break up soon after they start, because they can’t agree on what to play, or they end of playing all one kind of music, which gets pretty tiring after a while. Or, because the drummer’s crazy. (Another story).

To tell you the truth, when you think about it, the world doesn’t really need another cover band, so why do it at all? Well, we’ve decided that this band is going to be different. Very few songs will be “off limits” because the band is going to emulate a Random Playlist. 

Our “Band Brand” (forgive me) is going to promise an inventive experience, where divergent musical styles will collide throughout the set. The Cure’s “The Lovecats” will be immediately followed by Glen Campbell’s “Rhinestone Cowboy” and then a Beck song or something from a musical. Our only other guideline is that we know if this band wants to stand a chance of getting asked back to a bar, we have to pick songs that women will like too (thus “Lovecats”).

Random Playlist. I think it’s going to be a great band. I’d go see it. As long as we don’t suck.

It got me thinking about our career paths. I read something once that posed the question, “have you had several jobs over the last 15 years or have you had the same job, several times.” It’s a great question and one we should be asking ourselves regularly. Have a look through your resume. Is it the same song over and over again, or have you worked to mix it up to create a playlist that will keep you current, exciting, inventive and fresh (and keep the market interested in you? 

If it’s the former, give some thought to how you might shake it up a bit. If a position change isn’t in your game plan, there’s still lots you can do: take a course, donate your time and volunteer for something, learn a programming language (very popular these days), or learn a spoken language (try Italian!), learn to cook, study Vogon poetry, become a Sommelier… just do something out of your comfort zone.

Set your Random Playlist and turn up the volume. No skipping! See you outside…

[traceelementsoio]

The Ageism Paradox. It’s not about age. It’s about you.

Or, my lifelong battle with GAS

Post #5: July 26, 2014.

Ageism is a lot like Gluten Intolerance. All kinds of people in my field say they suffer from it, but very few have the slightest idea what causes it. I have always had an issue with discussions around Ageism, not because it doesn’t exist, but because of how many people self-misdiagnose their condition as a way to avoid recognizing the real cause.

I hear stories about Victims of Ageism weekly – it’s “applied blame” about their circumstance, described almost like an uncontrollable, dormant virus that releases itself upon you in your 40s and makes you undesirable in the marketplace. Sorry, it’s not that. It’s worse. You are the cause of your Ageism.

Let’s go Outside Inside Out for some insight…

My battle with GAS (Guitar Acquisition Syndrome) started when I was around 4 years old. I picked up my brother’s Yamaha 6 string and I was transported to another dimension. (I still spend a lot of time there.) When I was 14, he handed me his 1965 Fender Telecaster. I still have it; when I play it I always remember the first time I slammed an “A” chord through a big sound system at my High School “Rock Night”, just like Marty McFly in “Back To The Future”. 

I buy and sell guitars, amps and effect pedals constantly. Every guitar I play brings me something. Ask any player – you pick up a Strat and you channel Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray. Pick up a Les Paul and it’s Slash and Jimi Page. Pick up an Airline Guitar and you can feel Jack White or The Black Keys. As a musician, I am ever-curious to channel these influences, get inspired and break out of old patterns to evolve my skills. Flipping gear helps me do that and I think it might be part of my personality. I have embraced my GAS. I’m not stuck.

About 10 years ago I left a Creative Director role I held. I took a significant hit in salary and “position” to become an ACD at a pure play digital agency. The person who hired me knew I was way behind the curve in terms of real practical ability, but he also saw that I was a digital native at heart and could bring something to the team that they didn’t have. Best decision I ever made. I learned from the ground up and found a whole new “career white space”. I know at least a dozen people, considerably older than me, who continue to thrive in our business because they know the secret about Ageism:

The Ageism Paradox: it’s not about age. It’s about relevance. Evolve or die. 

Every time I do an employee review, particularly with young talent, I tell them that being a student of human nature and our business is more than an element of their evaluation; it’s a key ingredient to having a long and successful career. Young people are hungry. They’re culture junkies, inventors, alchemists, doers and fearless high wire walkers, not afraid to talk way beyond the miles they’ve walked. Or their “age”.  

How “new” are you? With all that experience you have to back it up, the potential is explosive. You can’t help aging, but you can help getting “old”.

You’re only as good Inside as what you bring in from the Outside. Before you allow yourself to blame your situation on the scourge of “Ageism”, do some real, honest introspection and ask yourself: Is it time to buy a new guitar?

Until next time… - T

[traceelementsoio]

3 things incumbents do to lose the pitch.

Or: “What I learned about New Business from losing girlfriends.”

Post #4: July 16, 2014

Sometimes I jokingly call my role with agencies “The Insultant”. Not literally, of course, you know I’m nice (right)? I come in, I drink the coffee but not the kool aid - I have no political agenda or cushy chair to protect so I can be real; I’m asked, strike that, encouraged to call bullshit when I hear it, I leave when the project’s done and I get paid for it.  Everybody wins.

I have worked at and consulted with a great number of agencies of all shapes and sizes, above the line, below the line (whatever “the line” is), digital, experiential and design. New business is a big part of agency life and I've experienced it from both sides – defending and hunting. I've realized that many of the things I need to grasp about having a chance in a new business pitch, I already learned from getting dumped back in my College days.

This week’s Outside Inside Out, in no particular order, looks at 3 things incumbents say or do to blow it, viewed through the experience that comes from getting dumped. 

1. “They've been with us for a long time, we don't have to prove __________”

So, you've been with a girl for a long time. Things seem kind of flat but you're ok, right? Remember when you were first together, all those spontaneous, cool things you used to do? Flowers? Surprise picnic on the pier at Centre Island?  The candlelight spaghetti dinner you made on the 6-and-one-half month anniversary of the day you first spoke to each other? A plush stuffed puppy? You were so great! You were adding value. Surprise and delight. Stop reaffirming and demonstrating your value and poof! It’s over.

LESSON: There’s always someone else ready with flowers.  So, yes, you have to prove it.

2. “They would NEVER buy that idea…”

A polo shirt? Screw that, I NEVER wear polo shirts! My girlfriend hates that preppy stuff (right?)... My unwashed jeans and Ramones shirt got me this girl – that’s what she likes. Then, she breaks up with you and your smelly shirt and starts dating some guy from the burbs with free access to his dad’s BMW and you guessed it, he’s wearing a pastel blue polo shirt. In a pitch, all bets are off. Even if they would never really buy the idea, they'll be impressed by the creativity and lateral thinking.

LESSON: Think and act like the “challenger” agency or check to make sure the door doesn't hit you on the ass on the way out.

3. “I/we don't need to rehearse.”

Admit it - at one time or another, we're all guilty of this one… It’s like this. You were "out". You didn't call when you were supposed to and now she wants answers. You feel you have your story down and you figure that in the moment it will all come out just right. You start out ok but then an unexpected question out of left field hits you between the eyes with the cold snap of reality. Your story springs a million leaks. You stumble. You sidestep. You blow it. You’re done.

LESSON: Always rehearse and plan for the unexpected. 

Keeping the business is a lot like keeping a relationship. Don't take it for granted and remember, every day is pitch day. Now, get out there and keep the love alive.

Until next time... - T

[traceelementsoio]

The 5-step Crazy Boss/Client/Meeting Survival Guide.

(Or, what I learned from playing with Keith Moon.)

Post #3: July 4, 2014.

Being my own boss is enlightening and terrifying for someone who has always been plugged in working for somebody, somewhere.  Now, when I get really mad at “my boss” I head straight for the nearest mirror and just let him have it. As you might imagine, it’s as unsatisfying as it sounds and hilarious to anyone within earshot. I really need to figure out how to work with this guy.

One day last week, when my aforementioned boss wasn’t looking, I came across an isolated recording of Keith Moon’s drum track for the song “Going Mobile” from the album “Who’s Next”. It’s the stuff of madness; there’s no click track holding the time, he speeds up, he slows down, he pushes, he holds back, he never plays in a consistent pattern. It must have been incredibly difficult to work with him, especially with three other alpha ego band mates in the room, all trying to drive the bus.

I decided to see if I could successfully record my own playing into the drum track. The process yielded some valuable insight on dealing with “challenging” people and situations. To the studio…

At first, I hit record thinking I could just barge in and successfully play along. The takes sounded sloppy, amateurish and out of place. Moon wasn’t in the room to make eye contact with, so I couldn’t “work” the groove. The chaos was already baked in. I just had to deal with it. LESSON #1: Understand who/what is controlling the agenda.

After a few attempts, I became really agitated and thought, “Wow, this is ridiculous. I can’t do this. Forget it.” I took a breath and decided to stop recording, listen and take notes.

LESSON #2: Talk less, listen more and formulate a plan.

Then I tried again, but this time, rather than playing over the drums, I worked to play with them, to simply land on the right beats, following the pre-determined, chaotic lead, which was now becoming less unfamiliar.

LESSON #3: Let go of “winning”, work one piece at a time.

Once I had mastered Keith Moon’s flow of the song, I was able to play around his groove, landing all the key cues but finding my own place in the song.

LESSON #4: Master your subject, earn the ear of the room, make your mark.

I repeated this process with the lead guitar, vocal and synthesizer parts. It was great but incomplete; I needed a flawless bass part. I was out of my depth, so I enlisted the hands of a great bass player, Edward Pond, who nailed it and delivered what was needed to take the project home.

LESSON #5: If you can’t, find an expert who can. Everybody wins.

This experience is a perfect Outside Inside Out tutorial - a practical lesson, delivered in 3 minutes and 38 seconds of Keith Moon chaos. Take a look at how you deal with your own challenges, outside. Maybe there are some insightful lessons hiding inside, just waiting for you. Have fun out there - until next time. - T

Oh, in case you’re curious, here’s the recording: https://soundcloud.com/tracy-jones-2/going-mobile

[traceelementsoio]

Chocolate Milk: On keeping the glass half full.

Last Friday, I was out having an early breakfast with one of my sons at the Detroit Eatery on Danforth Avenue. He ordered chocolate milk with his French Toast and side of (crispy) bacon. I realized it had been a while since I’d heard him order chocolate milk (he’s a dedicated apple juice man now). As I reminded him, when it was half gone in seconds, to at least keep the glass half full before his food arrived, I was flooded with the echo of a memory and reminded of something important.

A bunch of years ago, when my kids were little, we used to get up early every couple of Fridays and go for a “boys only” diner breakfast before school. When they were really young, they always wanted the hotcakes (read “toy’) at McDonalds, but eventually we branched out to a little joint near my house called Motorama. I loved this place. It had an old deco-lettered logo out front, the interior was classic “diner decor”: checkerboard floors, scenic murals on the walls painted by someone’s cousin, a melamine counter with silver-based, cushioned stools and a mirrored, brushed stainless steel serving area with those big under-counter cabinet fridges that make that satisfying ka-clunk sound when the heavy latches open and shut.

The owner, Pete, was always there. It was something you could count on. And although the boys might change their preference week to week from sausages and toast to pancakes to a side of “crispy bacon”, one thing they both ALWAYS ordered was chocolate milk. Not just any store-bought carton, Pete delivered chocolate milk the old fashioned way: white milk with Nestle Quik Chocolate syrup stirred in.

It was simple, it was special and it set them up in a real good way.

I reminded my son about that and he smiled and said he “sort of” remembered. Then, I was reminded that I had my own personal connection to Chocolate Milk. When I was a kid, we had cartons of milk delivered to the school every day. Each week one person from each class would be awarded the honour of being the one to get to leave class to go down to the hallway outside the caretaker’s room (Mr. Decina) and bring back the chocolate and white milk for the class. We would stack the cartons like a mini-fortress at the front of the classroom and put straws in the gaps as defenses.

It was simple, it was special and the memory of it set me up in a real good way.

Maybe we all need more “chocolate milk” in our lives. What’s yours? Take a minute, get out and get some… and keep your glass half full.

  T

[traceelementsoio]

Click. It’s on.

OiO stands for Outside Inside Out. It was originally a concept I initialized a couple of years ago as Executive Creative Director at Toronto ad agency Capital C. It was new for the agency, but for me it was an idea that went back a long way.

Years ago, when I was a junior...

[traceelementsoio]

Start

Click. It's on. 

OiO stands for Outside Inside Out. It was originally a concept I initialized a couple of years ago as Executive Creative Director at Toronto ad agency Capital C. It was new for the agency, but for me it was an idea that went back a long way.

Years ago, when I was a junior writer (and we were just transitioning from typewriters to orange-screened computers with WordPerfect), I interviewed for a job with the great Bill Durnan at Maclaren. He probably doesn't remember me; I was one of hundreds of eager young copywriters who wanted to work at his very hot creative shop. He could have just blown through the meeting, but he really took the time to go through my "book". I remember him saying "I think there's a good writer in here, but I'm not sure I'm seeing YOU in the work yet." He talked in baseball analogies for a bit (which I heard he does), then he took a sharp left and asked me if I had a girlfriend. Uh, yes? Then he asked if I liked going out and doing stuff with her. Uhhh... Then he said "look, you're only as good in here as what you bring in from the outside". It really stuck with me, as much as a life lesson than career counsel. I've never had the chance to thank him. Maybe he'll see this.

Fast forward. The idea behind Outside Inside Out (OiO) was to have a Friday get together where the whole agency was invited. Part social, part stimulus, it was a show and tell for "grown ups". We asked people to get up and tell us about something that they are passionate about, outside of our business, that we could bring in and share with each other to stimulate ideas and creative thinking.

That was the business case, but I think I had an ulterior motive. I'm a stimulation junkie and I was mainlining on my team's energy.

Back to that meeting with Bill... what he said really stuck. I've always tried to be a glass-half-full guy. I know people who see life as toil, a slog that  every now and again you get to glean moments of happiness from. I reject that. Looking at life through that dirty lens is something I work very hard not to do. Pardon the cliché but I prefer to think of life as an incredible gift and it's our job to try to find a way to celebrate that gift somehow every day.

Which brings me to OiO, here today. This blog is going to be my ongoing journey's journal. I'm not sure where it's heading but hopefully, it will be a way of reminding myself to stay on course and it will add a little OiO stimuli to anyone who finds it of interest. Now, get out. - T