Hi, I'm balance, have we met?

Those of us in the ad world know that balance is at times a four letter word and at times, the holy grail. from my boyz at American Copywriter, Tug writes on Mark Fenske's trip to the ballpark. (note: check our new blog design. courtesy of sethy g.)

Excerpt from Mark's post:

The first day of baseball season is a good time to remember how lucky we are to work in the business of advertising.
We can take the afternoon off and go to the game.

Is the world going to miss one afternoon's worth of advertising?
Will anyone be able to tell if you withheld an afternoon's worth of effort from a campaign?

However, leaving work to go to a baseball game will make a difference inside you.
Leaving work to go to a baseball game opens something inside your heart that advertising has been doing its best to lock up.
The quest for award-winning work keeps you at work late.
The struggle to do better than those around you makes you work through dinner, get up early, cancel the vacation you planned.
There are times these sacrifices bear fruit.
Mostly they don't.
Because greatness at writing ads comes only partly from how hard you work at reaching inside yourself.
A greater deal of it has to do with being a person worth reaching into.
Leaving work to go to a baseball game is a sign you have taken charge of your life.
It's a sign you accept death is coming and have chosen what to do about it for today.
It will do you no good to learn to write from your heart if you have nothing in your heart.
I was slow to learn this.
Here's hoping you won't be.

Can I get a what what, or an amen? Give it to me. What a post. This has been a crazy-busy week in the world of Woolard. Crunch time for a great client. Chopping block for ideas. Pitted out shirts and a lack of sleep for me. But here's the sick/wonderful thing: I'm freakin' thrilled with what this week has produced. We have places to go still, sure. But it's nice when the sweat equals something you can be proud of.

Do I drive home late at night, look my Labrador in the eyes and wonder why I do what I do? Sure. Sometimes. But I also know that his Equine-sized bag of food takes money to buy and I'm happy to make that money doing what I do.

Here's to advertising. Here's to bags under the eyes. Here's to taking on a few hours of sleep knowing you created something. Cheers, Mark.

Listening to: My bar-b-que chicken sizzle on the grill.