There are days I long for my former life in the entertainment biz. Like... everyday. Designing posters and ads for Hollywood blockbusters. Jetting all over the world to do photo shoots with glamourous A-listers...
OK, the jetsetting thing happened rarely, but those are the bits I choose to remember. Sue me.
And then I look at my sad little life now, designing sales brochures for manure spreaders. Granted, their high end manure spreaders and they don't come cheap, but still...
Some would say there's really not much distinction whether you're selling John Deere or Michael Bay - it all comes down to the same thing... spreading shit. Having worked on "Transformers", I'm not in a position to disagree. All the same, I'd take a Hollywood job over my current situation in a second.
Or so I thought.
The call came in yesterday late in the afternoon. From an agency in LA I hadn't worked for in two years. A big studio project! I was perfect for it, they said. I'd have to drive in for a meeting today, but the project was mine if I wanted it. It was my ticket back to the Big Leagues!
I said yes without even asking what it was.
And then about an hour later I was emailed the creative brief.
Oy vey.
What a piece of crap. I can't believe people spend good money to make this shit. I'd tell you what it was, but I only have a couple of shaky bridges left back to LA, and I'm not about to burn them. You'll know it when you see it this holiday season... in the remainder bin at CostCo.
So I'm off to LA for a fun, shit-filled afternoon. Sounds almost like Bako.
