BOONE'S FARM
John Boone's inspiration and exploration from the creative frontier.
Friday, August 31, 2012
The Best Idea You'll Never See
I immediately took a photo of their entrance with my iPhone. Then, after some quick Photoshop retouching, I put together a presentation outlining how successful companies stand out in the marketplace and how this disruptive idea would guarantee free publicity on a national scale, create a frenzy of social buzz unlike anything the world has ever seen (at least, not since Orson Welles' radio broadcast of "War of The Worlds").
Several weeks passed and finally got up the nerve to go make my presentation to the local manager of Banana Republic. As I found a parking spot at SouthPark Mall, I rehearsed my introduction and support points. I had it all worked out, even down to a slick Keynote presentation on my iPad with some razzle-dazzle transitions between slides. I even had the presentation loaded on a flash drive to leave behind. This presentation would be flawless.
My pace quickened as I entered the mall (which is definitely something new for me.) I was almost at a Ryan Hall pace as I zoomed past Urban Outfitters and the Apple Store. However, as I passed the kiosk where the guy was demonstrating the remote-control helicopters, my pace slowed to a halt. I stopped and squinted, not wanting to believe that what I was seeing was true. As The Banana Republic (soon to be Banana Democratic) came into focus, there was something wrong. Something terribly wrong. Instead of the usual storefront, it was completely covered with a white banner from floor to ceiling. The words on the banner read: "We are temporarily closed for remodel."
I rationalized that some things just aren't meant to be. I then consoled myself by purchasing a slice of Reese's Cup cheesecake at The Cheesecake Factory and went home and ate the whole thing in one sitting. Who knows, maybe someone will pass this story along to a marketing executive at Banana Republic and 4 years from now, we'll see a Banana Democratic. Maybe even a Banana Libertarian.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
5 CRUCIAL QUESTIONS AGENCIES SHOULD ASK BEFORE GOING ON AMC’S “THE PITCH”.
As I sat and watched our ad agency on national television, my palms were sweaty and my stomach was in knots. Had David Oakley and I made the right decision? Was putting BooneOakley on AMC’s new reality TV series, “The Pitch” the most brilliant thing we had ever done? Or the most foolish?
if you go on “The Pitch”, the pressures are multiplied exponentially. In a normal pitch, you only have to “look good” for a 2-hour presentation. In filming “The Pitch”, you have to look good for 10 days. In a normal pitch, you’re presenting to a handful of clients. On “The Pitch”, you’re presenting to a national TV audience. Normal pitches take several months. “The Pitch” only gives you 1 week. If you don’t win a normal pitch, nobody knows or cares. If you don’t win “The Pitch”, everyone knows …your mom, your cousins, your 597 facebook friends, the kid who bullied you in 3rd grade …everyone. After a normal pitch, everyone moves on. After “The Pitch”, there are reruns.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The Pick Of Destiny
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBnJTg2sZpKrMkFdwSaSvjOl_uExAGv84s5C1_ahjhl0gTb7UWp91d-sPlV2qVeEW7ZBTfRxKU8OKRIY5RTQKK2y_8BmmWdTQN8EqLE4ko-w_BJanAwgRpiUbQIKMFeCXfGmvjFSH208/s400/IMG_7977.jpg)
I was Ace. My older brother, Terry, was Gene Simmons. We got in trouble at our high school talent show for using smoke bombs as pyrotechnics. The mother of our lead singer's girlfriend made our costumes. We made our own platform shoes by tacking sneakers onto hollowed-out blocks of wood. We called ourselves "Destroyer" and I designed a logo with a grim reaper playing a "sickle-guitar". (This was high school, folks.) We silk-screened our own T-shirts by hand and printed posters on a Xerox copier to sell at our concerts. We played a total of 3 concerts and then disbanded after reaching the mutual decision that we needed to "get a life."
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnLlWuNZYvf4FKmj0XURLS_jBmqAMrcChQ5tFtGNLeC6319eLrY3pA_xk4J5KmkpIajiurkFK2su1OJft5tJkN5N7Tcsoj8T90XXHBfFp8cMhnFUclO1YlofF48CtrdjV2nv8MhLQKy8/s400/IMG_7985.jpg)
David Oakley gave me one of my most prized possessions, a "Destroyer" album autographed by all 4 original KISS members. My daughter, Brittany, gave me the KISS lamp pictured here. Keith Greenstein, an ACD here at BooneOakley, gave me a bag of KISS M&M's. Greg Johnson, our CMO, gave me a KISS flag that he got at the KISS Coffeehouse in Myrtle Beach. The list goes on and on and I am thankful for each one.
2 weeks ago my destiny was about to be fulfilled. As I walked down the cavernous halls of the Blake Hotel, my hands are sweating and shaking a little. A plain sheet of 8 1/2 x 11 paper taped to the wall catches my eye. It reads: Ace Frehley, Governors Room 6. My pace quickens as my heart starts racing. I'm so nervous, I almost drop the guitar pick in my hand. But, this is not just any ordinary guitar pick. This is a rare Gibson heavy-gauge GG-50 teardrop-shaped pick. It's the one I played lead guitar with in a KISS cover band when I was in high school. It's the Pick of Destiny. You see, this is the pick that Ace handed to me 26 years ago at my first KISS concert. Well, he didn't exactly hand it to me. Let me explain:
The year is 1976. It's one year before I get my license. Against her better judgement, my mom drops me and my best friend, Marvin off at the Dorton Arena in Raleigh. My heart is pounding and my hands are sweating (again). This is my first rock concert. The smell of marijuana is thick, but the only drug I'm on tonight is adrenaline. We rush into the throngs of fans crowding the entrance. The doors burst open and it feels as if we're running with the bulls as we fill the arena. There are no seats on the floor of the arena. Marvin and I station ourselves about half way back from the stage. After a really horrific and very forgettable opening act, the lights dim and the atmosphere is filled with smoke and anticipation. Right on cue, a faceless man steps up to the microphone and announces those 15 words we had all been dying to hear: "You want the best? You got the best! The hottest band in the land ...KISS!!!!!!"
Then, at decibel levels that would rival a 747 jet engine, Gene Simmons thumps out the first notes of "Detroit Rock City". The crowd is electrified as he is quickly joined by Ace Frehley, Peter Criss, Paul Stanley and a pyrotechnics display that resembles an atomic blast. At this point, a girl in the crowd taps me on the back. She is apparently having trouble seeing over everyone. She asks me to bend down. The next thing I know she is sitting on my shoulders and we are rocking out to "Firehouse". This is the best night ever. But it's about to get even better.
After playing a 12-song set list, the lights dim and KISS exits the stage. My face is sunburned from the flash cannons, but I want more. And so does the crowd. So, after what seems like a lifetime of chanting "KISS", "KISS", "KISS", the 4 masked musicians return to the stage. They play "Shout It Out Loud", "Beth" and the grand finale, "Black Diamond." During the final song, my eyes widen as I notice that Ace is throwing guitar picks out into the crowd!
With my ears ringing from the final crescendo and booming indoor fireworks display, I press through the crowd. As they stampede for the exits, I head against the grain towards the stage. In a matter of minutes, the arena is emptied and I'm just standing there gazing at the floor in the hopes that maybe ...just maybe I can find one of Ace's picks. There is confetti, streamers and assorted trash covering every square inch of the concrete floor. My eyes, blurred from the smoke and haze, dart back and forth frantically. Then, all of a sudden, it's as if destiny is speaking to me with the voice of a GPS navigation system: "Turn left at silver confetti." I reach down and wipe away a pile of glittery paper pieces and there it is ...the Pick of Destiny!
Fast forward 26 years later and I'm back at the Blake Hotel about to see Ace Frehley in person. He's there to sign autographs at a strange little convention called the "Mad Monster Party", featuring C-list celebs like wrestler "Rowdy Roddy Piper" and Rutger Hauer from "Blade Runner." I finally make my way into Governors Room 6, where an assistant greets me and asks me what I want. I tell him I'm there for an autograph. After handing him a crisp $20 bill, he gives me a ticket and leads me back to another room.
As I start to walk in, I'm met by a security guy in a leather coat. He, too, asks what I want. I explain that I've brought the Pick of Destiny that Ace threw out to me in 1976 and I want him to autograph it. He just laughs and says in a thick Brooklyn accent, "You want Ace to sign that? It's too small! How's he gonna sign that?"
At this point, out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ace getting up from a table across the room. He is ready to leave. I've held on to this pick, the Pick of Destiny, for 26 years just for this moment. I'm not giving up until I get this pick autographed. So, I pull out a silver Sharpie from my pocket and told the security guy, "He can sign it with this."
Ace starts to walk out of the room. I know I've only got one shot. So, I pull out an old photo of me dressed up as Ace, playing guitar in my Kiss cover band in high school . I show it to Ace and explain that I played guitar with the same pick that he threw out at the Kiss concert 26 years ago.
As I wait for his response, I glance up at him. The first thing I notice is that he is much taller than me, even without his platform boots. He is wearing dark shades, a black leather jacket and lots of silver rings. He has a thick beard, long hair and a bumpy nose. Finally, after a dramatic pause, he takes the pick and the Sharpie from my hand. "Oh, really?", he says. "That's cool." And, in a silvery flash of a pen, he signs his name on the pick with a capital "A" that looks like a star. My throat is now dry and I can't think of anything to say, so I just blurt out, "You're my inspiration." With that, he shakes my hand and disappears.
I turn to leave, almost in disbelief that I just met my guitar hero. I walk down the hallway and notice a man asking a security guard for directions. As I pass, I hear the guard explaining that Ace has left and is no longer signing autographs. The man is visibly and understandably upset. He is shouting at the security guy, who is apologetic but powerless to help. I begin thinking to myself if I had been just 30 seconds later, I would have missed out on the chance of a lifetime to get that pick autographed. But, then I'm reminded that this has been a pre-destined meeting from the foundation of time itself. Yes, this is no ordinary pick. This is the "Pick of Destiny."
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
IF AT FIRST YOU DON'T SUCCEED, TRY, TRY, TRY, TRY, TRY, TRY, TRY AGAIN.
This is for anyone who has ever wanted something really bad, only to get rejected. This is for anyone who is contemplating giving up. This is the story of how to battle rejection and keep pursuing your dreams …no matter what.
“Energy and persistence conquer all things.” ~ Benjamin Franklin
From the time I graduated from E.C.U. in 1984, I always wanted to work at The Martin Agency in Richmond, Virginia. I had seen their work in “Communication Arts” and other award shows and I loved everything they did. They have since become the largest, most-awarded agency in the southeast. They are best known for their smart, humorous work for brands like Geico, Wal-Mart, JFK Library, UPS, Wrangler, Mercedes and more.
In 1988, while working in Atlanta, I finally got up the nerve to send my portfolio to The Martin Agency. After a few weeks, I was excited to see a reply letter in my mailbox. As I ripped open the envelope and began reading, my emotions quickly turned from excitement to embarrassment. It was a rejection letter, with a stinging critique of my work.
It started with a positive statement saying they’d received my book. Unfortunately, that was quickly followed with the word “unfortunately.” After that came the obligatory, “your timing isn’t great.” Then, I read words that would haunt me for quite a while:
“Your ads are a little too self-conscious in a design sense”
“I think you can do more with your craft”
“The puns are pretty awful”
Now, if you haven’t heard, creative people are some of the most insecure people on the planet. And this letter definitely didn’t help. I could have easily been crushed by it.
But, whenever a person faces rejection, they have 2 choices. We can let it deflate us. Or motivate us.
Take Edison, for example. He made 1,000 unsuccessful attempts at inventing the light bulb. When a reporter asked, “How did it feel to fail 1,000 times?” Edison replied, “I didn’t fail 1,000 times. The light bulb was an invention with 1,000 steps.”
Have you ever been rejected or turned down? Did you give up after the first try? Are you going to let rejection FOOL YOU (into quitting)? Or FUEL YOU (into action)?
I took the rejection letter as a challenge. The Martin Agency has high standards. I needed to work harder to raise my game if I ever hoped to get my foot in the door there.
So, spurred by rejection, I continued to work on my book and send it to The Martin Agency whenever I could get up the nerve.
Each time I would send it, I would get a rejection letter. But each letter fueled my competitive fire. Getting hired at The Martin Agency had become my life’s mission. So, I kept trying. Year after year …for 7 years straight! I even saved the letters.
Here are just a few of the reasons Martin gave for not hiring me:
“unfortunately, I’ve blown my budget”
“we’re fully staffed”
“we recently hired three new art directors”
“we currently don’t have a position that would be suitable for you”
Had I become a stalker? Did I want a date with a very attractive ad agency and she wasn’t giving me the time of day? I kept writing her year after year, “I like you, do you like me?” She kept checking the “No” box.
And, as if the rejection letters weren’t bad enough, it was about to get worse. In 1992, I was working at Team One in LA. I remember my copywriter partner, Ron Huey, walking into my office and informing me that he had taken a job at another agency. “What agency?” I asked. “The Martin Agency,” he replied. While I was happy for him, it felt like I’d just taken a dagger to the heart. The agency I had been courting for years was now dating my best friend!
At this point, I would’ve had every right to stop my silly, futile pursuit. But, I didn’t.
After taking a 2-year stint as creative director at a small North Carolina agency in 1993, I decided to send my book up to The Martin Agency …again. My ol’ buddy, Ron, who was ACD on Mercedes, got me in the door to interview. I just knew that the stars had aligned and they would offer me the job on the spot.
But, it didn’t happen. Once again, I was told that my “timing just wasn’t right.” My romantic novel about how to court an ad agency was quickly becoming science fiction.
All was not lost, however. In 1995, Ron got me in the door to freelance at The Martin Agency on Mercedes. Afterwards, I freelanced at various agencies around the country like Rubin Postaer, Merkley and TBWA-Chiat/Day.
Little did I know that the tide was about to turn for me. It was at Chiat, in 1996, that I got the opportunity to join some brilliant people and help create some of the best work of my career. It was the kind of work that gets noticed and wins awards. The kind that magazine editors write about and people talk about at the water cooler …even the water cooler at The Martin Agency!
Almost overnight, I was no longer looked at as the dorky kid with tape on his glasses. I was suddenly transformed into a studly super-jock George Clooney look-a-like rock star with washboard abs.
The next thing I know, I’m sitting in Mike Hughes’ office. He and John Adams are offering me a full-time job …and a key to the executive toilet …and a foot massage …and a company Mercedes. Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite like that. But, it seemed like that in my mind.
I remember thinking, The Martin Agency wouldn’t go out on a date with me for 7 years …and now they want to marry me!
Just a few days after meeting with Mike and John, I received a letter from The Martin Agency. Would today be the day? Or would this just be another cruel rejection notice to be tossed in the stack with all the others? To this day, there are no words that can describe the elation I felt as I opened that envelope and read the following sentence:
“Dear John,
“I am pleased to confirm The Martin Agency’s offer of employment to you as a V.P., Associate Creative Director beginning March 17, 1997.”
In one fell swoop, all of the rejection letters seemed to melt away. Everything became crystal clear. Everything had been leading up to this moment. For once, my timing was not only right; it was aligned with the precision of the Official Swiss Chronometer Testing Institute in Geneva.
Do I regret experiencing 7 years of rejection? 7 years of heartache? 7 years of failure? Of course not. As with Edison, it wasn’t 7 years of failure. It was simply a job application that required 7 steps.
What step are you on? Step 1? Step 2? Step 7? Let me know if this inspires you to take the next one. Or, if you have your own story of overcoming difficult obstacles, let me know.
Epilogue:
David Oakley and I opened an office of The Martin Agency together in Charlotte, NC in 1997. We ran it for 3 years, winning several clients and tons of awards. We would fly to Richmond every 3 weeks or so for meetings and presentations. During our tenure, we learned from some of the most intelligent, creative and caring people on the planet. Oakley and I took what we learned in those years and started our own agency, BooneOakley, in 2000. We’ve been in business for over 11 years. Our mission is to create an agency that people dream of working at.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
WE FIVE ELVISES
As I got about half-way through Peter's book, I had a flashback. I remembered a time when I had the distinct pleasure of seeing Peter in action. Before BooneOakley, myself and David Oakley were manning a Charlotte outpost of The Martin Agency, the southeast's largest and most-awarded ad agency.
We had somehow managed to weasel our way into a pitch for the Charlotte Hornets account. For 11 years, the Hornets had witnessed sellout crowds. But, after their owner George Shinn went to court for sexually assaulting a former Hornets cheerleader, fan support began to dwindle. Our job wasn't to pass judgement. Our job was to win the account and win the fans back.
Peter was flown down to Charlotte to help us put together a winning pitch. He was the perfect guy for the job. First, he was a presentation guru. But, on top of that, he stood about 6' 7" and was a former basketball player at Princeton. So he not only talked the talk, he walked the walk and could speak from experience.
While Peter was coming up with a winning strategy and presentation, David and I were coming up with several creative campaign ideas. But there's only one that I actually remember. Probably because it was completely insane.
You see, the idea was to personify the names of the opposing teams. For instance, imagine Chicken McNuggets on the court playing basketball. A basketball shoe comes into frame and crushes one of the nuggets. Type comes on the screen: "Hornets vs. The Nuggets."
Another commercial, entitled "Hornets vs. Pacers," featured AMC Pacers sputtering around and dripping oil on the court. A third spot in the campaign opened with several Santa Clauses shooting hoops. It was for, you guessed it, "Hornets vs. The Knicks."
To bring the campaign to life for the pitch, we reached out to a local production company to see if they would shoot one of the spots for us. To our amazement, Susan Cody, the executive producer of Bridge Productions, agreed to shoot it on spec and started making a flurry of phone calls.
The next thing I know, we're in a high school gymnasium with a production crew and lighting equipment. Then, right on cue, our opposing team runs out onto the court.
It's not one ...not two ...but five guys dressed as Elvis! They have the sequined flare pants, the white leather boots, the lambchop sideburns. One of them was known as the "Thai Elvis." They start dribbling basketballs, passing, shooting and (with a help of a ladder) even dunking. They go through a series of warm-up drills, just like an NBA team would before a game. And, of course, after each shot they do a classic Elvis pose. The opposing team's name?
"The Kings."
I don't know what the other agencies presented in their pitches. But I guarantee they didn't present anything like this. And, after the presentation, while the client was deliberating, we sent one of the Elvis Impersonators over to their office with a bouquet of roses. He sang "It's Now Or Never."
Needless to say, we won the account.
But we couldn't have done it without the help of Peter, Susan, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis and Elvis.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
DON'T JUMP!
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9v_ucof81sqpgGtzWOTR4NdJHiSKeI27pIqZWtEMJxWFJlppJ5_FKmwLH2IFY8P-SXLQncDOnphaCWYAy6FrKGJB4v7Wgps8kQvOg83FKjdkBzytqTWgkK-dotqJnOquVMoulKIL4vE4/s400/IMG_1479.jpg)
While anxiously awaiting to find out if we won the account we just pitched, I'm reminded of some of our early efforts at pitching. Usually the pitches that I felt we did horribly at, we won. And the ones I thought were "in the bag," well ...they weren't. It's so hard to predict. There are so many variables. So many unknowns. And, at best, it's subjective. Even when we win.
One of our very first pitches, 10+ years ago, was for TNT in Atlanta. We were less than a year old, with 3 employees (including the 2 founders) and we were pitching against some of the best agencies in the country, including Goodby Silverstein & Partners. TNT had decided to reprogram their station to be all about "Drama". So, David Oakley and I decided to give the most dramatic presentation of our lives.
First, we decided to turn the conference room on the 6th floor at Turner Broadcasting into a living room ...because that's where people watch TV. So we ordered six La-Z-boy recliners from a local furniture rental store. We also brought in 4' x 8' sheets of wood paneling to cover the walls. Oh, and I disassembled my daughter's trampoline and threw it in the van, too (but more about that later.)
As in every pitch, something is guaranteed to go wrong. And it did. Right when we arrived at TNT's Atlanta headquarters, we were excited to see the rented recliners arrive. But the excitement turned to panic when we realized the recliners were in boxes ...unassembled! With the help of 2 student volunteers, David Oakley, Adam Roth and myself scrambled to assemble 6 recliners faster than robots on an assembly line. The only difference is, robots don't sweat.
As the TNT clients filed into our makeshift, wood-paneled "living room", they sat in cushy recliners and we served them popcorn to begin our presentation. And present, we did. With passion and enthusiasm. Things were starting to go well and we were on a roll.
Our presentation was all about how they should "own" drama. Everything they do should be done in a dramatic way. But, right when were were about to unveil our big idea, there was a commotion outside. We ran over to the window and looked down. The clients got out of their comfy recliners and joined us by the window. They couldn't believe what they saw.
Down below on the sidewalk, 3 firemen were holding a safety net. The fire chief was looking up and yelling through a bullhorn, "Don't jump! Sir, step away from the ledge! Do NOT jump!!!
What was going on? Right in the middle of our presentation about drama, it looked as if someone was going to jump off the roof of the 12-story TBS building.
"Sir! Step back! Do not jump!!!", the bullhorn continued to blare.
As we all had our faces glued to the window, the unthinkable happened. A human body flew past us at 100-mph. We couldn't believe what we had seen. Startled, we all looked down. To our amazement and relief, the firemen had caught the body in their safety net.
After what seemed like an eternity, the client whispered, "What just happened?"
Without missing a beat, we simply replied, "TNT needs to be just as dramatic as that."
The clients' eyes lit up. "You guys were in on this, weren't you?"
"Yep. We set the whole thing up", we replied. "One of our art directors, Adam Roth, threw a blow-up doll off the roof. The firemen are student volunteers from a local ad school. Oh, and the safety net is my daughter's trampoline."
They laughed, probably more out of relief than actually thinking it was funny. And, after the presentation ended, we thought for sure we had won.
But we didn't.
Goodby did.
As bold as our presentation was, theirs was, apparently, even bolder. They presented an idea where TNT would announce their new positioning by shutting the station down for an entire day. They would go dark for a full 24 hours! Then, after getting everyone's attention, they would come back on air as a whole new station.
And, thus, the "We Know Drama" tagline was born. And it's still in use today.
Every time I see it, I think of the day we gave the most dramatic pitch of our lives. It's something that I'll never forget. And, I'm pretty sure they won't either.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
BALL FOUR
Hey, John,
My favorite book of all time is BALL FOUR. It's the journal of a once great...now mediocre knuckleball pitcher in 1969.
He talks about his old pitching coach, Johnny Sain (a Southerner). And Sain had a saying called, "The cool of the evening."
It's the feeling you have when you pitched a good game.
It didn't matter if you won or lost. Just the satisfaction of a job well done.
Give me a shout when you can. Would love to hear more about it.
But for now, enjoy the cool of the evening, John.
--Michael
Thanks, Michael, for the timely email. We did pitch a good game. It was a job well done. And regardless of the outcome, we will enjoy "the cool of the evening."