The following conversation occured in the revolving restaurant of the Hollywood Holiday Inn: another time, another place:
APPLAUSE
Thank you all so much for braving the earthquake and coming out tonight for this special event! And because the quake caused several of our speakers to have to cancel, we are thankful that two representatives of Livingston, Gentry and Mishkin West could make it tonight to fill the gap, as it were. Mr. Kip Wilson and Mr. Henry Desmond!
APPLAUSE
CFR
Kip, if you'd like to say a word?
At this point, Mr. Wilson took the lectern and began to speak:
KIP WILSON (KW)
Thank you ladies and germs!
SILENCE
(Taps microphone) Is this thing on? Advertising! What is it? It's Ads, yes. It's ver...maybe. But it's definitely tising. It always comes to tising...(Looks at note-cards, shuffles note-cards; note cards flutter out into audience). Ads! What's in an ad...an ad by any other name is a "spot." Or a "clip"! Or a "promo"! An ad, by any other name might smell as sweet! As sweet as new Squeezably soft Charvin toilet tissue! Now, in new kiwi, banana and kumquat scents! (SINGING) And Guacamole from Texaco! Mmmm-mmmm, that's good...as good as soup; because SOUP IS GOOD FOOD! (Takes a sip of water) And now I'd like to introduce my esteemed colleague, Mr. Henry Desmond, with his thoughts on all of this. Henry...? (He CLAPS and the audience joins in. A follow spot travels to stage left where the curtain is moving. Kip takes another sip and then does a SPIT TAKE as a petite blonde woman haltingly walks on to the stage. She's wearing a blue dress and high heels and carries a bone-hued handbag. She shields her eyes from the light, stumbles around and then the heel snaps off her shoe and she goes down. She finds the heel, puts it in her purse and crawls to the podium. Mr. Wilson helps her up).
(Bad stage whisper) Hen--Hildegard--what are you doing? (Covers microphone-UNINTELLIGIBLE)...supposed to have the visuals...(UNINTELLIGIBLE)...are you out of your...(UNINTELLIGIBLE)...ladies and gentlepeople, I've just been informed by Mr. Desmond's sister that he got stuck in a crevasse on the 101 due to the earthquake, so she's filling in...(UNINTELLIGIBLE)--
HILDEGARD DESMOND (HD)
--cleaners lost my suit! Oh, this is on... His suit. The cleaners lost his suit. My brother's suit! Right before he drove into that crevasse. Ahhm, so I'll be helping out. I helped him with his notes, so it'll be fine. Uhhm, I believe we were supposed to have some visual material of some kind?
Mr. Reidy runs onto the stage with several posters.
CFR
They're right here! Got 'em! One moment! Bear with us!
He puts the posters on easels:
Thank you Chrissy Baby. So, aahhh...what do we have here? Looks like a kid's book. Kip, what do you make of this copy?
Mr. Wilson looks at artwork as a look of confusion crosses his face.
KW
Are these idea boards for Lucky Charms?
HD
What's a "gonotions"? Sounds dirty.
At this point, Mr. Stephens of McMann and Tate came on stage carrying a martini glass and a cocktail shaker. He placed the shaker on the podium, reached down and retrieved a jar of olives, put some in his glass and refilled it from the shaker. He joined Mr. Wilson and Miss Desmond.
DARRIN STEPHENS (DS)
Irish fucking Shhhhhpring. That's what that is! I slaved over that goddamned account until I bled green. Green blood, green sweat, green tears! Where is that son of a bitch Larry Tate? Is he here? Roll the goddamnned clip!
Mr. Stephens, can I ask you something?
DS
Call me Darrin, honey...and can I just say that you're really a knockout, baby!
HD
(Blushing) Oh, well, awww...go on!
DS
You look like my ex-wife. She left me for Larry Tate. Turns out, he was a witch too! What did you want to ask me sweet-cheeks? (Pinches her bottom).
HD
Ooooooh! Easy there tiger...yeah, so, I always wondered when the man cuts open the soap, like, what's that supposed to prove?
DS
Prove, baby?
KIP
I always wondered about that too Hen--Hildy! Like, what does he mean by two deodorants? Why does it have two deodorants? Why would it need two deodorants? Do the green and white colors have some scientific implication? What does it mean?
At this point, Mr. Don Draper sauntered out onto the stage and leaned insouciantly against the podium, lit a Parliament cigarette and took a disinterested puff and exhaled with a small SIGH of ennui.
MR. DON DRAPER (DD)
Nothing. It's a lot of something that adds up to nothing. Or ads, if you prefer.
HD
Wow. That's kind of deep. In a shallow kind of way.
DD
It's my speciality. My other one was pseudo-science. I kind of invented it.
CFR
Can I bum one of those? That's my favorite brand!
DD
Sure, as a matter of fact, take a couple of cartons.
He reaches under podium and produces several cartons of Parliament cigarettes which he thrusts at Mr. Reidy, whose eyes light up like a pinball machine.
CFR
Wow, thank you Mr. Draper! I believe you brought a clip with you. (Mr. Draper nods ambiguously). Roll the clip!
Hey pal, I got news for you. Howard McMann invented phony science--God rest his soul--and don't you forget it!
DD
Have another martini, Stephens.
DS
Thhhaaannk you. I believe I will. (To Miss Desmond) You want one shhhweeetie?
HD
Okay. I prefer mine with a twist--
DS
How about a cherry baby? (WINKS)
KIP
You know, it does my heart good to know that fake scientific explanations live on in our biz. I particularly enjoyed this depiction of the human colon for Metamucil by Hearts and Science Agency. Let's take a look!
Why is the shit fluorescent green? Do they have radiation poisoning?
HD
It's pretty, but chartreuse is really hard to wear.
DS
Come down to my suite baby...you won't have to wear anything!
CFR
Mr. Draper, can I just say that I loved your reality series, Mad Men?
DD
That was a drama, Chrissy Baby.
CFR
Oh my gosh! Really? I thought it was real! I gotta say, that actor they got to play you looks exactly like you. And he's so good!
DD
I thought he was a ham.
CFR
No! No, no, no! One of my all time favorite moments in entertainment, ever, was the time he brought his wife to Howard Johnson's and she hated the orange sherbert.
DD
That actually never happened.
CFR
Regardless; there was a moment during the actor's reaction to what his wife was doing; which was, I suppose, rejecting his entire ethos; that for me sort of captured a haunting moment of humanism. I would show a clip, but I can't find one...how about a GIF?
DS
We handled that account. "Choosy mothers"? That was me. Larry Tate may say other wise. Where is that son of a bitch? Roll the clip!
No, not Jif! GIF!
DD
Technology only exists in order to sell more goods.
CFR
That is a bold statement Mr. Draper. You seem somewhat jaded in regards to your occupation.
DD
And that's why my agency pulls in (REDACTED) dollars a year and has a storage closet full of Clios.
KW
What's a Clio?
DD
Religion? Advertising is the opiate of the masses.
KW
Simmer down there Mr. Gray Flannel Suit. Some of us just want to make laxatives fun to think about.
HD
You know, Mr. Draper, I just realized that your show and Mr. Stephens's show are like the same show, except yours doesn't have witchcraft. And it's an hour long.
DD
Pitch me.
HD
Well, here's a quick Powerpoint with a grid of your show and Mr. Stephens's show...*
At this point, a power-point comparison ensued, including opening titles of both shows:
Both feature figures floating above the New York skyline. Both are animated. Both end with the screen blacking out...if you play them both at start mark of 36 seconds, why, it's uncanny!
DD
I'm not disagreeing with you. So what are these mock-ups on the easels? Is this what I'm here to talk about?
CFR
Yeah. What's your take?
DD
Well, they're clearly out of context; but I can give you my observations. They strike me as illustrations from children's books; so the material is pitched to the kiddies or people who aren't necessarily kids; but not grown up either. It's infantile. And what's the text in the middle? It doesn't make sense. It's gobbledygook. Is it Ireland? Why are the clovers the size of dinner plates?
CFR
Let's all watch the extended commercial spot, shall we?
DD
Roll it. I don't have all night.
Hmmm. Well, it has an unpleasant quality. It seems to have nothing but disdain for the people I'm watching; if not complete revulsion and hatred. The leitmotif of the mud makes me immediately think of shit; that these people are so backwards they actually dance and play in shit; which I'm pretty sure is the Freudian take to the letter, regarding infantilism. These people are on the level of a donkey. Actually lower than a donkey; or an ass, if you will. They are barely capable of speech; and when they do speak, it's a kind of Pig Latin. This made-up language is clearly making Gaelic the butt of some kind of joke. Who made this?
CFR
The comapany's in house ad agency. They were so enamored of their own work, they made a behind the scenes featurette and all sorts of supplemental material.
DD
You seem to have taken great offense to this.
CFR
I didn't at first; but the more I looked at it; the more offended I became. I'm Irish.
DD
Oh, I'm sorry. Just kidding.
DS
I have a cousin who's a leprechaun. Did I mention my wife is a witch?
DD
Join the club.
CFR
I think what bothers me the most is the smug, self-satisfaction of the people that made it. They kept talking about how the idea came about and then they never actually say where.
People suffering in abject poverty and dancing in mud makes them laugh?
CFR
Their CCO talks about the correlation of things leading to ideas, like a song you heard ten years ago or a "little thing you read over here" and one day they come together and you have an idea. But he and his staff are super cagey about mentioning specifically what those "little things" might be.
Oh, it's called stealing...or creativity. But then, all things have been said and done. There is really nothing new under the sun...yet. For humans, anyways.
CFR
That sounds a little dire.
DD
I calls 'em like I sees 'em. I understand you do the same; that you feel you are often the creator of a lot of "little things" that get...shall we say...jacked?
CFR
Well, I did find it quite the coincidence that a recent screenplay I put out there into the Etherweb featured a music lesson where a guy couldn't play the uilleann pipes. Just like the piper in the commercial.
DD
Well, they are the national bagpipes of Ireland.
CFR
I said it was a coincidence.
I think this image of one of the execs making the commercial kind of sums up what I think their attitude towards Ireland and it's culture was. I think she's reacting to a sip of Guinness and yeah, it's not my favorite; but it's like the national drink of Ireland...so you think maybe they might've left that one on the proverbial cutting room floor. And if she's reacting to something else; Ms. Kung is certainly welcome to rebut me in the comments section. Or send me an email at [email protected] and I will print a retraction. Or correction. Or whatever.
Hey Henry, remember that weekend we stayed up for 72 hours, ideating Peronie's Pocket Pizza?
HD
I'm Hildy, Kip...
Oh, right...you two just look so much alike...like identical cousins...
At this point EVERYONE on the stage lauched into a rendition of "Let's Get Together" from The Parent Trap, for some reason.
Wasn't that terrif, ladies and gentlefolk?
Hildy, remember the moment when we figured out how to fold the pizza? That EUREKA! moment? Oh, the sweet smell of success!
DD
Pepperoni is the actual smell of success. It's a pseudo-scientific fact.
DS
It's bacon, Bozo. Why don't you hit the bricks, battle of the bulge?
HD
Yeah Kip, it was good times; that is, once we solved that lint problem.
DS
(To Ms. Desmond) Speaking of bacon, babe...howz-bout you come down to my room and we can open up the mini-bar, wink, wink!
HD
Mr. Stephens, I'm not that kind of girl!
DD
(Holding out room key) I'm in the Presidential Suite, gorgeous.
HD
Maybe I am that kind of girl!
Miss Desmond grabbed the key and was hot on the heels of the now EXITING Mr. Draper.
DD
(To Mr. Wilson) Care to join us?
KW
The more the merrier! (EXEUNT).
At this point Mr. Stephens grabbed his jar of olives and scurried after them.
DS
What about me? I've got olives!
He exited, leaving Mr. Reidy alone in the room. Mr. Reidy wandered over to the projector and picked up the remonte and pointed it at the screen.
CFR
It's uncanny...
*
Meeting adjourned
CFR
I suppose I'll go ennuinate by the pool...
*SIGHS*