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This blog post was written by a big time producer friend of mine, and is reposted here with his permission. Mike owns a production company in Minneapolis, Minnesota called Odd Lamps Productions. You will see his work scattered across the country this Fall. I am reposting it in it's entirety, but it is not to trigger a political discussion (for which this forum will close the thread). It's a raw success story, and an amazing story of mindset, motivation, and choices. If you dig this story, I would encourage you to drop a quick email to Mike at info@oddlamps.com and let him know what you thought of his story.
A Rallying Cry.
by Michael Wilson on Thursday, September 27, 2012 at 8:41pm ·
I feel like I need to say something... it will sound braggadocios. I don't mean it to. I mean it in a humble way. A way that says, "I've been to the darkest, shittiest places and I came out alive. And guess what? You can too."
Tonight, my biggest stress is, "how do I manage all this work, for which I'm being paid really well." I'm heading to Ohio on Monday to create some badassed spots over the course of the week. I'm bring a crew. I've got it all covered. Before then, I have to finish off an existing project and finish 6 commercials. It's a lot of work. And it's awesome. I'm fortunate, but I don't owe anyone but my clients anything.
FLASHBACK: In 2008, when everything crashed, while I was preparing dinner, my daughter (5 at the time) looked on the stove and asked me, "Daddy, why's there no hamburger in the Hamburger Helper?" It was because I didn't have $4. I've told this story publicly and I'm not ashamed. It was a turning point. But during that time, I barely survived. I'd lost everything. I honestly thought the world and everyone I loved might be better off without me. But I got up the next day. The next day sucked too. But I got up again. And again. I kept getting up until the world couldn't tell me I was worthless. I knew I had no work, so I learned to do new things (there was a 4-month stretch where I had so little work, I became a F*cking expert at Apple Motion). There were tiny little writing and editing jobs here and there that got us enough to get some groceries. During that time, I was eligible for all kinds of government assistance. But in the same way I wouldn't beg you, dear reader, for help, I wouldn't go to the government to have them point a gun at your head to MAKE you help. I refused to do that. It was immoral. I was responsible for my family. It felt wrong to force YOU to pay for us. So you didn't. And you shouldn't.
And then, finally, someone gave me a job. Chuck DeVore hired me for free (Yup. Free. What can I say..? He took a chance on me...). I took the gig. I turned out spots for free that I now charge... well... a LOT for. But he gave me a chance to prove myself. And I did. Before long, Chuck (and even other folks) were paying me $200 a spot! Most of the time, half of that went to Carr Hagerman, whose golden voice is the soundtrack of Odd Lamps' stuff now, and forever. He was doing me a favor by doing voiceover on the cheap because he loved me, and I had a hundred bucks. It was a fair deal. And then it was $500. Then thousands. At the end of the most fun and important losing campaign anyone will ever be involve in, Chuck paid me my "full rate" (well, a full rate for someone who, unlike me - though he didn't know that - wasn't desperate) at the end of the campaign when I did about 225 hours in 2 weeks. It meant the world to me. And in my mind, it meant that I had money in the bank and could stop editing on a 4 year-old laptop. So I invested in my business and bought a decent iMac (one of the "loopholes" they want to get rid of). I was on my way.
There have been close-calls since then. Lots of them. Tight times? Even more. When Chuck paid me what I was worth, I knew I was worth it. It changed my life. I occasionally do stuff now for less than our going rate, especially for new clients we want to win. But mostly, I finally know that what we create in this little company I've built one day at a time (sometimes with less than $4, while feeding a baby a bottle with my left hand, holding a phone on my shoulder and typing with my right hand), where I've learned from scratch how to do it, how to manage the roller coaster, and build a team... what we do matters. It literally changes the goddamned world. And yes, Mr. President... I DID build this. Without a dime of your money, without a moment of your time, and in defiance of your ideas. I. BUILT. THIS.
Here, in this place we call both home and work? We are Americans. I sure wish the people who think that 4 more years (or, for that matter, any more moments) of this sad excuse for what we've become is a good idea could climb into my memory and see what it takes. I'm so proud of what we have been and can be again. We're not that right now. We need to find that place inside that reminds us of how powerful we are. It lives there, in that place that makes you want more... not just the material shit, though that matters... but the "stuff in the basement" that is crawling around telling you to keep fighting. We cannot stop fighting if we have a breath left. We cannot.
Epilogue:
A few years later, I sat at lunch with Fred Davis, the most powerful and influential ad-guy on the republican side that has ever lived. He'd done everything for all the Republican presidential candidates since he was, like 14 years old or something, and he did all of Chuck's opponent's ads (remember the DemonSheep ad? That was Fred). He was willing to hang out and I took the chance. I looked him in the eye and told him I'd wanted to beat him to prove I could. I meant it. He told me two things. One, it wasn't my fault we lost, because money matters. And two, if we'd released the second ad I ever made, we might have won before the race started.
When the best in the world tells you you've got the juice, you know it's time to become the best in the world. I'm working on it.
A Rallying Cry.
by Michael Wilson on Thursday, September 27, 2012 at 8:41pm ·
I feel like I need to say something... it will sound braggadocios. I don't mean it to. I mean it in a humble way. A way that says, "I've been to the darkest, shittiest places and I came out alive. And guess what? You can too."
Tonight, my biggest stress is, "how do I manage all this work, for which I'm being paid really well." I'm heading to Ohio on Monday to create some badassed spots over the course of the week. I'm bring a crew. I've got it all covered. Before then, I have to finish off an existing project and finish 6 commercials. It's a lot of work. And it's awesome. I'm fortunate, but I don't owe anyone but my clients anything.
FLASHBACK: In 2008, when everything crashed, while I was preparing dinner, my daughter (5 at the time) looked on the stove and asked me, "Daddy, why's there no hamburger in the Hamburger Helper?" It was because I didn't have $4. I've told this story publicly and I'm not ashamed. It was a turning point. But during that time, I barely survived. I'd lost everything. I honestly thought the world and everyone I loved might be better off without me. But I got up the next day. The next day sucked too. But I got up again. And again. I kept getting up until the world couldn't tell me I was worthless. I knew I had no work, so I learned to do new things (there was a 4-month stretch where I had so little work, I became a F*cking expert at Apple Motion). There were tiny little writing and editing jobs here and there that got us enough to get some groceries. During that time, I was eligible for all kinds of government assistance. But in the same way I wouldn't beg you, dear reader, for help, I wouldn't go to the government to have them point a gun at your head to MAKE you help. I refused to do that. It was immoral. I was responsible for my family. It felt wrong to force YOU to pay for us. So you didn't. And you shouldn't.
And then, finally, someone gave me a job. Chuck DeVore hired me for free (Yup. Free. What can I say..? He took a chance on me...). I took the gig. I turned out spots for free that I now charge... well... a LOT for. But he gave me a chance to prove myself. And I did. Before long, Chuck (and even other folks) were paying me $200 a spot! Most of the time, half of that went to Carr Hagerman, whose golden voice is the soundtrack of Odd Lamps' stuff now, and forever. He was doing me a favor by doing voiceover on the cheap because he loved me, and I had a hundred bucks. It was a fair deal. And then it was $500. Then thousands. At the end of the most fun and important losing campaign anyone will ever be involve in, Chuck paid me my "full rate" (well, a full rate for someone who, unlike me - though he didn't know that - wasn't desperate) at the end of the campaign when I did about 225 hours in 2 weeks. It meant the world to me. And in my mind, it meant that I had money in the bank and could stop editing on a 4 year-old laptop. So I invested in my business and bought a decent iMac (one of the "loopholes" they want to get rid of). I was on my way.
There have been close-calls since then. Lots of them. Tight times? Even more. When Chuck paid me what I was worth, I knew I was worth it. It changed my life. I occasionally do stuff now for less than our going rate, especially for new clients we want to win. But mostly, I finally know that what we create in this little company I've built one day at a time (sometimes with less than $4, while feeding a baby a bottle with my left hand, holding a phone on my shoulder and typing with my right hand), where I've learned from scratch how to do it, how to manage the roller coaster, and build a team... what we do matters. It literally changes the goddamned world. And yes, Mr. President... I DID build this. Without a dime of your money, without a moment of your time, and in defiance of your ideas. I. BUILT. THIS.
Here, in this place we call both home and work? We are Americans. I sure wish the people who think that 4 more years (or, for that matter, any more moments) of this sad excuse for what we've become is a good idea could climb into my memory and see what it takes. I'm so proud of what we have been and can be again. We're not that right now. We need to find that place inside that reminds us of how powerful we are. It lives there, in that place that makes you want more... not just the material shit, though that matters... but the "stuff in the basement" that is crawling around telling you to keep fighting. We cannot stop fighting if we have a breath left. We cannot.
Epilogue:
A few years later, I sat at lunch with Fred Davis, the most powerful and influential ad-guy on the republican side that has ever lived. He'd done everything for all the Republican presidential candidates since he was, like 14 years old or something, and he did all of Chuck's opponent's ads (remember the DemonSheep ad? That was Fred). He was willing to hang out and I took the chance. I looked him in the eye and told him I'd wanted to beat him to prove I could. I meant it. He told me two things. One, it wasn't my fault we lost, because money matters. And two, if we'd released the second ad I ever made, we might have won before the race started.
When the best in the world tells you you've got the juice, you know it's time to become the best in the world. I'm working on it.
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