Babbling Point

.

WHERE ARE THE KEYS TO THE TIME MACHINE?

Our meeting at client ended around 7pm. We were heading back to the office to work on the revisions. We saw our client at the elevetors. I smiled and asked, "Going home?"

"Not yet," she smiled weakly. "Seems like even if I come here at 7:30am in the morning, I still don't have enough time to do everything that needs to be done. Maybe I should start coming here at 6:30 in the morning. And maybe that's not even enough."

After dinner, one of the art directors said the same thing. That even if he comes to work early, he still doesn't get to finish his workload and still needs to do over-time.

I sometimes tell the team, "Okay, while you guys work on that tri-media campaign due tomorrow, I'll go and make a time machine!"

Or I'd go to our Traffic Department, who's in charge of getting us freelancers, photopgrahers, and our suppliers, and ask them, "So... you know anyone good hitmen? Are they cheap? How about a freelance ACD who can take over for me sometimes? No?"

I think we all need a time machine.

Allow us take a break from so many things.

For me, Saturday is my time machine.

Time stops and I go into hibernation.

I wish Saturdays would stretch for an extra day or two.

So, we'd call it SaturOne and SaturTwo and maybe even SaturThreeDay.

I think that would be fun.

11:03pm-- time to go home. I think this is the earliest I've gone home all week.

(Apologies to everyone who emailed. Haven't had the chance to reply. Apologies to the contributors of the book. Will try to reply before the end of the month.)

God bless this weekend.

God bless May 10.

Popular posts from this blog

Couple of weeks ago, Ms. Diyco featured another campaign made by the creatives here at Harrison Communications. Here's her review about the Neozep "Neozerye" TV campaign: Romancing the mighty colds cure ADS AND ENDS, Nanette A Franco-Diyco BUSINESS WORLD Vol. XX, No. 139, Friday-Saturday, February 9-10, 2007 http://www.bworldonline.com/Weekender020907/main.php?id=marketing_diyco The four television commercials that serialize the life of pretty housemaid Luwalhati, culminating in a storybook wedding to her once-upon-a-time señorito from the imposing mansion belong to an ad campaign awards class all its own. There have been other spoofs of soap operas selling other brand categories in the past. But for several reasons put together, the Neozep series of commercials that began with honest-to-goodness ad teasers that looked and sounded like teasers for true-blue soap operas proved ultra entertaining and more importantly, "reinforced Neozep’s leadership and further s...

The Mini Manifesto

LET'S BURN THE MAPS. Let's get lost. Let's turn right when we should turn left. Let's read fewer car ads and more travel ads. Let's not be back in ten minutes. Let's hold out until the next rest stop. Let's eat when hungry. Let's drink when thirsty. Let's break routines, but not make a routine of it. LET'S MOTOR.™ This is the copy for the MINI “Let’s Motor” campaign. The creatives who created this campaign said they weren’t just writing copy on how great it would be to own a Mini, they were writing a manifesto, a way of life for people who drive a Mini. I just love how the copy has rhythm, how it just flows and rolls off the tongue, how it just wants you to go out and drive and just keep driving. Makes me also wish I could write copy like that. More wonderful copy ads can be found at: http://www.libraryofmotoring.info/miniprintads.html

the sons and daughters of Kanlaon

Last Friday, we attended the 40th Anniversary of KBS, the Kanlaon Broadcasting System, where my mom and dad once worked. I was still a baby when my dad worked there. I barely remember the people there. One of the first people to greet me was Lando, my dad's old driver. Him, I remember. As the story goes, when I was a baby, I could not pronounce his name and just started calling him "Agoong". Hence, he got that nickname and that's what everyone called him. I remember how we used to play chess while waiting for dad to finish work and how I always forced him to make me win. (Makes me wish I forced him to teach me how to play chess better and learn how to not win things so easily.) As expected, as my mom re-introduced me to her old office mates, they all looked surprised and delighted to see me. They would then immediately extend their hand, palm down, and show me how small I was when I first met them. Some would pretend to carry me and tell them they were the ones who ca...