LUCKY PHIL
Another stroke of good fortune.
True to advertising life, it wasn't long before I was offered another job in a small agency.
Almost as soon as I walked in, they had been briefed to launch their client Bank's Credit Card as being accepted internationally.
Now I was writing my first overseas trip...and it was sooooooo easy.
All I did was write a number of overseas locations: Singapore, Amsterdam, Paris, Frankfurt, and London. The 'talent', the ‘face of the Bank", went to various venues asking, “Do you take this card?”... the answer was always simply “No Risk” (The Bank's promise was "No Risk") in their particular language
No Brainer!
Maybe I could have applied a bit more brainpower for a better idea, but each ad was to be only 10 seconds long., and as this was urgent, the idea was approved. Within days, I was organizing a director and film crew.
It was to be a 'gonzo' shoot, we didn't have time to organize the correct paperwork to film in some of the locations, etc, for example when it came to the Eiffel tower as a backdrop, it was throwing the talent in front of the camera, shoot, bundle everything in the car and take off before the police arrived.
Another stroke of fate, the talent we were throwing in front of the camera was a friend and had been a shareholder in the farm who, as a quite well-known actor, had become the face of the Bank long before I worked on it!
So we took off on our adventure.
I fell in love at first sight with Amsterdam. Like a fairytale city with beautiful old buildings, canals flowing slowly through it, beautiful houseboats, and bicycles of all shapes and sizes peddling quietly through the city.
The local producer asked if there was anything we wanted. My friend and looked at each other, and said in sync:
“ A smoke would be really nice!”
“Of course, let's go!”. In a nearby houseboat, we made a small transaction for a rather large ball of hash. We only had a quick joint after the shoot each day, and we still had the bulk of it left when we were due to fly out. What to do? We looked at each other, smiled, broke the ball in half... and ate it.
At the check-in counter, I started to realize just how strong this particular hash was when eaten.
We took off ...the plane at an acute angle...but it leveled off while I felt I was still going, higher and higher.
Landing in England, I thought I had better find something to occupy me while we passed through customs. I grabbed the trolley with all the camera gear and started pushing it, trying to look inconspicuous past the row of customs agents
The trolley had a mind of its own and took off, dragging me sideways past the officers, where I tripped and fell, landing on my back, like a disabled beetle with arms and legs waving wildly in the air.
“Would you mind coming with me, please, sir?”.
I looked up, and looking down was a customs agent who said politely:
“Tell me sir, what is in the boxes you have there?”
Through the world’s driest mouth, I managed to say:
“Cameras...we’re going to shoot a commercial here”.
His tone became even more official
"And tell me sir, do you have Carnaes for the cameras?”-
A Carnae details all the equipment, its value, etc, and is used to keep track of the equipment to make sure it hasn’t been sold in the country...a virtual guarantee you will be taking exactly what you bought into the country back out again.
I managed to say
“I'll get the director.”
The officer asked for the whole crew to be present. My blood pressure went through the roof.
Was I going to get the whole crew in trouble? I could already see the headlines!
Knowing we had taken off without the full paperwork, I found the director and crew and asked them to come with me.
Shepherded into a small room, the officer's attention turned to the paperwork, or lack of it.
I was able to slink to the back of the room and hide behind the crew with my friend, who whether he was aware of it or not, was looking at me with bright red eyes, fluctuating being crosseyed, and rolling uncontrollably around his head.
The Director put on a performance worthy of an Oscar.
"That bloody producer in Australia told me he had everything in order. I’ll kill the bastard.”
After what seemed like an eternity, the officer's face softened, and he said
"Would you all raise your hands and repeat after me...
We promise to take all the equipment we are bringing into the country out of the country.”
We all did, wholeheartedly. And with one of the most beautiful smiles, I think I’ll ever see this lifetime, he said
“Ok, gentlemen, that will suffice. Please gather your equipment,
welcome to England, but please take it with you when you leave.”
I can’t describe the sense of release that flooded every particle in my body.
Needless to say, I was kept a long distance from the trolley by the crew as we headed as quickly as possible to the exit.
I was on my very, very best behaviour from then on, and we returned home with a successful shoot in the can.
KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID!
Life became a simple routine of regular visits to the Ashram, immersing in the world of advertising, grabbing a surf when it was possible, and being a Dad. Each agency I worked in had very good creative reputations and great mentors as Creative Directors, and I was not allowed to get away with anything, as always, the first question asked of me.
"What's the idea"
I would lovingly labor over ideas and copy, what I considered to be beautifully crafted, only to be told that's OK, now go and cut it in half, and even have that repeated again when I represented the new version.
Only having a 'micro moment' to grab the attention is not a new revelation. And, of course, the KISS principle, Keep it Simple Stupid, is timeless.
In true advertising form, I was offered another job over lunch in a bigger agency. It was a great opportunity to work under a brilliant Creative Director from London. I was teamed with a young art director, and we became a team and great friends.
Synchronicity was about to enter the picture again.
David and I had been planning a visit to the ashram in Ganeshpuri, India.
I told the art director of my earlier experiences with Baba and mentioned our plans, as he was planning a trip to Kashmir, he said he would like to join us and call in at the Ashram to see what it was about on his way through.
A young Indian man popped into our office the day before we were to leave. We started chatting and told him we were going to Mumbai the next day to visit an Ashram. His eyes lit up, his family lived in Mumbai, he said he'd send a telegram to tell them we were coming, and disappeared. He soon returned and said his parents would meet us at the airport and put us up for the night, as we hadn't made any plans apart from heading straight for the Ashram. We received this news with both a sense of amazement... and a 'grain of salt'
We had never seen him in the agency before this moment. Would they in fact, be there?