Missing the Benjarmins

It seems like every time I see a movie now it's shot in New York or LA. In places in New York in LA that I know well. It makes me homesick. I've been out of work for ten months, and in school for five. I miss the money. I miss the travel. I miss buying stuff I want. It sounds a bit crass to actually come out an say it, but it's true. I see friends' vacation pictures on Facebook... from Switzerland, Africa and France. I had to turn down the annual President's Day family gathering in Gatlinburg 'cause we couldn't afford it. And damn it, I feel sorry for myself.

I think about looking for a job. And it's not just for the money, there's something else I miss. It's a longing that's almost physical. Until recently I'd thought the longing was for the old life in New York: the big office, the secretary, and the travel. And although intellectually, I know and accept that that life doesn't exist for anyone any longer, it's still difficult emotionally. At least that's what I thought in my personal pitty party. (I read something just last week that Grey has had to hire a team of industrial psychologist to help people adjust to the new, open office. I have very strong views on open office, but will save that for another time....suffice it to say that I believe strongly that it's what put Chiat Day/NY and Wells Rich Green out of business.) Anyway, I haven't quite been able to recognize exactly what this longing is for; really. But after spending some quality time with former colleagues over the past week or so, I've realized the thing I miss even more than the money, is being with smart people and discussing ideas. That is really what I use to do all day. That's the part I loved. That's the thing I miss. It wasn't staying at the Mondrian and hanging out at SkyBar. It was the people I was with at SkyBar and the plans we made and the ideas we had. It wasn't driving up the PCH first thing in the morning, or the West Side Highway at night, or having breakfast at the Waldrof; it wasn't the places and the furnishings. It was the people and the ideas.

Isis and I talk about how we miss those Benjarmins from our old lives. She use to make thousands of dollars a week selling drugs. Now she's workin' fast food for $8/hour. She says what she likes about her life now is that she can sleep and spend time with her kids. "'cause when you is selling drugs, you get calls all day and all night. And you think 'I can make $1,200 just by drivin' twenty minutes' -- so you go, and then you get another call... And you never get any sleep. I was just SO TIRED all the time. I could never turn down that money." I sure as hell know that feeling.

A new experience

Yesterday, in my Jesus-y mode, I agreed to give Asia a ride downtown so she could get her bus card. (She needed a ride because taking two busses AND stopping to get the bus card would make her late for work.) Since we were going downtown anyway I offered Ruby a ride too. The minute we were in the car they told me they wanted to go to the tattoo/piercing place on Glenway to get their tongues pierced. They've been talking about this for weeks and asking me to come along. Ruby said to me "you want new experiences, right? That's what you said. So come on, do it! I need you to hold my hand Miss Cynthia." So I'm thinking "okay, this is something I've never had the opportunity to do before (and hopefully won't again)." And off we went.

I was kind of freaking out the whole four minute drive up the street: "It's dangerous, there'll be blood, you'll ruin your teeth, your tongue will swell up, I'll have to take you to the emergency room, you'll get blood in my car...." Asia told me "God, you're actin' like we're going to rob a bank and you're driving the get-away car. Calm down."

So we get there, and the place is PACKED. At 3:30 on a weekday! Seems all sorts of people want piercings -- a woman with her ID from University Hospital still affixed to her scrubs, a 55 year old hippish women and her 28ish boyfriend hanging all over each other and both wanting their nipples pierced; two 19 year olds getting bars through their ears, a FAMILY (getting God knows what). We had to wait about twenty minutes and during that time more and more and people came in. The waiting room was as crowded as a New York subway -- packed shoulder to shoulder. God only knows what these other people in the waiting room were thinking about my little threesome. Especially since we were asking everyone about the pain involved and after-care of a tongue piercing.

I think my hands were sweating more than Asia's, or Ruby's (she was freaking out a bit and I didn't think she'd go through with it). After all it wasn't bad. Not that I watched. I tried to take a video with my phone. Told Ruby I'm putting it up on YouTube. But I only got about four seconds and not the actual piercing.

If you're under 18 years of age you need parental consent -- and they have this nice Hello Kitty clip board for the form; so kid friendly.

Frankly, the only thing this experience had in common with anything in advertising was that everyone I know in advertising, under the age thirty, has something unusual pierced; or a tattoo. So really, this is another time when it's "an age thing."

Hours and Hours before I sleep....

I just saw a story on the news about last year's commuter airplane crash in Buffalo. The pilots are underpaid, undertrained and over tired. But here's the shocking thing -- they need only 250 Hours of training to get a job as a pilot! Compare that to my 1800 hours to be a "managing cosmetologist!" Seriously, has the world gone mad? And when you think of all the bad haircuts, bad perms and bad color you may have gotten from someone with AT LEAST 1500 hours of training ..... just think about how dangerous it is to get on that little plane to get from, let's say Cincinnati to Pittsburgh!

I want this....

A client comes into the salon with a picture of Rihanna and wants you to make her look like "that." The client is older and heavier than Rihanna and has a round face. She also has very curly hair. But "I really want this cut, I think it'll look good on me."

A client comes into the final creative presentation for the new campaign. He says he loves the spots, his boss loves he spots, he loves the directors treatment and reel, it's a "go." But he only has $180K, the production budget has been slashed to a third of what it was yesterday. "Can we use stock footage for the canyon shot? stock music? shoot locally? make the spots all :15's? Use an 'up and coming director?'" "We have to have this spot that everyone (back at marketer X) loves, but we have to "squeeze out" $300K.

...the milk for free.

At Beauty School there are a few themes the faculty try to drum into our heads. Principles of cosmetology that are so important to our future careers that if one doesn't practice them religiously they will fail. Things like sanitation, through client consultation, and most important off all DO NOT WORK FOR FREE. An exception can be made for immediate family as long as you live in the same house. Or for a close friend and/or family member who does things for you that would otherwise cost money (like making your kid elaborate Halloween costumes or watching your dog) Again and again we are told of the dangers of doing hair for free. "If you do it for free, they'll expect it forever, there is no going back. When you get a job they will not come to you as a client....If you compromise on money, you compromise yourself. You'll die in poverty." We're told that the friends and acquaintances who let us "practice" on them now should at least cover the cost of product. And even then, we really should charge them AT LEAST SOMETHING beyond our cost of materials.

Why don't advertising agencies do this? If this message had been drilled into us advertising professionals throughout our careers (and from the very beginning), how different the business would be today. If getting paid a fair wage for our work was the widely accepted way of doing business, marketers might be embarrassed to ask for reduced fees, or no fees. There'd be no "tuck ins" We wouldn't even think to offer reduced commission rates; it would humiliate us in front of our peers. It would peg us as an inferior shop. Unfortunately, like I'm being told a couple of times a week THERE IS NO GOING BACK.

What's in a Name?

My husband and son (brother and best-friend's husband) are named "John." It's a pretty common name. If we're out in public, in Target for instance, and John's on one end of the aisle and I'm on the other and I shout "John," it is likely that at least one other guy will turn towards me thinking I'm looking for him. If I call for my husband in a very crowded venue -- say the St. X game at Nippert Stadium -- at least four other guys will turn around thinking I'm calling to them. Because my name is somewhat unusual, I've never had the experience of someone calling for me and finding it's not me they want but the other "Cynthia." Until now.

There's "Cynthia" in one of the other classes, so when all three classes are together on Saturdays we're in the same class. This other Cynthia is about 21 years old, small and thin, missing a couple of her front teeth and has hair of many colors often including at least one fantasy color. She has a strong Appalachian accent and it's difficult for me to understand her speech.

Last Saturday Cynthia and I were working in the same class room. Because Cynthia is at the end of Phase I and knows a lot of stuff, students from her regular class kept calling out to her from across the room to come help them with the assignment (which was foils). Every time I'd hear her name, I would turn around. After about three times I was getting really irrattated but would then think "so this is why it drives John so crazy." It kept happening all day, and every single time I'd respond by turning my body toward the call and having that quizzical look on my face that says "Yes? Can I help you?"

Yesterday the classes were together again for a special lecture. Seeing the other Cynthia reminded Ruby and Tomeesha of the hilarious joke they were playing on me last Saturday. Once they noticed that I turned around every time my name was called, they started doing it on purpose. You really have to hear them tell the story to fully appreciate it, but I'll try: "Miss Cynthia, it was so funny. You turnin' around every time we call yo name and looking all like 'what?' Then we'd be actin all like we don't know who's calling you. And you getting all aggravated. Then we'd wait a minute and do it again. We was weak. It was so funny."

I remember when I first enrolled, but hadn't started school yet, a friend of mine told me "you're going to need a beautician name." Kind of like a stripper name. And it's weird but most of the ladies' names do end in a vowel or a "y." Along with the - ishas and - tricas, the Brittneys and Ashleys, "Cynthia" really kind of fits right in after all.

In advertising and marketing I noticed that there were a lot of men with very powerful jobs named "Lou" or "Ed." At one point I was working for a CMO named "Ed," (Lands' End) a CEO named "Eddie" (Kmart) and my actual boss-boss Ed Meyer (the former grand poo-ba of Grey Global Group). I'd call them "Ed, Ed & Eddie" -- you know, that Nickelodeon

show?

Bringing Sexy Back

A bunch of people needed to do "check outs" (practical tests) so I volunteered to be the "client." I got a manicure, make-up, and my hair styled. Ruby had me in the chair while she flat-ironed my hair and it went like this:

Ruby: Miss Cynthia we gonna make you sexxxxxyyyyyy... your husband gonna be all "'baby, baby, whoa baby'.. when you get home"

Asia: You should go to the club with us Miss Cynthia, you be all sexy and everything. You got yourself some heels?

Me: The only heels I have are business-lady pumps (which isn't really true because back when I worked in advertising my friend Cheryl inspired me to get some really nice shoes -- but they really hurt my feet)

.

Ruby: (in a sing-song voice I can't even begin to figure out how to describe here) sexy, sexy, sexy.... Miss Cynthia is so sexy.....

Me: Ruby I am too fat to be sexy

Asia: What you talkin' 'bout?? (said with indignation and incredulousness), fat girls is IN right now!

Who knew?