Tell me about Dan?Here are a 12 answers, one being Dan Wieden’s eulogy..______________Paul Riswold brought me into this world. Dan Wieden gave me my world.Both are now gone.I was the first copywriter Dan Wieden ever hired.What an honor, epitaph-worthy even. Thank God Dan did not know to hire properly in 1984.Dan taught me how to write. (1) He was fond of telling a story where one time, about three months into the job, he found me under my desk, “stone sober,” as he put it, telling him I wanted to quit and go back home to Seattle because I missed my sisters. Dan told me to get out from under my desk and start writing because “writing solves most everything.” I listened, Dan was always worth listening to, and I guess things turned out okay as far as writing ads go, no offense to my sisters.But. Words fail me right now. Utterly. Completely. Sorry, Dan, I have no fucking clue what to write. I want to hide under a desk again. Like forever.Of course, there is a world of interesting and amazing facts about Dan I can throw out there. Born March 6, 1945, same day some guy in Iowa invents the trampoline. (2) On March 6, 1475, 470 years before Dan’s birth, Michelangelo is born. Michelangelo said, “The greater danger for most of us is not setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low and achieving our mark.” Dan said, “You’re not useful to me until you’ve made three momentous mistakes.” Make glorious mistakes. Got it, gentlemen.Dan is a Pisces. The Pisces sign is the fish of the zodiac. Pisces are sensitive, intuitive, compassionate, empathetic, and tend to go emotionally overboard. (3) George Washington and John Wayne Gacy are fellow Pisces. Dan once got a fishing hook stuck in his nose and had to go to the emergency room to have it removed.Dan has a younger brother, Ken. As noted above, Dan and BFD serial killer John Wayne Gacy are Pisces, and according to Ken, Dan tried to murder him three times when they were young. Time #1: When Ken was two years old, Dan threw him out of his crib. Time #2: Dan tried to walk Ken across Neskowin Creek, knowing full well the water was well over Ken’s head. Time #3: Dan hit Ken over the head with a hammer while the two were building a boat out of 2x4s.Sticking to murder, Dan plagiarized “Just do it” from convicted murderer Gary Gilmore. Gilmore’s final words before his execution were, “Let’s do it.”Dan liked Nietzsche. Both men had outstanding facial hair. Both men were crazy smart. Both men embraced chaos. Nietzsche said, “You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.” Dan said, “Chaos is the only thing that honestly wants you to grow. The only friend who really helps you be creative.” Nietzsche was a much better dancer than Dan, but Dan could really cream him at advertising.Dan once had a parrot in his office. The parrot had a tendency to swear a lot. Dan preferred to be the only one, regardless of species, who swore a lot in his office. (4) The parrot lasted only one day and, rumor has it, may have ended up as the lunch special at the W+K Counter. (5)Facts, even odd ones, aren’t Dan.I suppose I could rehash a song I wrote about him for yet another big, fat-ass, lifetime achievement advertising award he got (along with Barry Manilow) and couldn’t have cared less about, aside from meeting Barry Manilow.Daniel Wieden was a man Yes, a big ad man Told America just do it While we just sat around watching TVDan and Kennedy made a few ads The ad world deemed breakthrough Unfortunately, none of these ads Were for Microsoft or Subaru Daniel Wieden was a man Yes, a big ad man He’s a titan of the industry Just like Barry Manilow, you see What a Wieden, what a wonder What a capitalist hippie was heBingo! That corny little ditty reminded me what Dan is and always will be—a wonder.Mr. Webster’s book of words tells us that a wonder is “a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.”Inexplicable Dan. Dan himself couldn’t explain his agency. When a big, fancy magazine with glossy pages and four-color separations asked Dan about the success of W+K, he answered, “I do not understand how this happened. I really truly do not.”Unexpected Dan. Dan swore by the slime mold theory. In a slime mold, a bunch of divergent cells come together and create something unexpected—in this case, the misfits who have, are, and will come together to make up W+K.Wondering Dan. Dan was curious. You cannot be creative unless you’re curious. Dan liked to read; however, he would not read used books because he believed the former reader had taken the book’s soul. (Sure, Dan, if you say so.) Dan always seemed to be in a constant state of wonder, and he never smoked marijuana. His greatest joy seemed to be when, seemingly out of nowhere, employees found their voice and rejuvenated his beloved slime mold. Dan never cared how something happened; he just cared that something happened. Sounds like wonder to me. “Dan never cared how something happened; he just cared that something happened.”Unfamiliar Dan. Dan didn’t do anything remotely familiar. Dan spent most of his 77 years as a vegetarian but returned to the Land of Carnivores a few years ago. Most vegetarians who throw in the towel usually celebrate with a big, juicy steak or by eating their weight in bacon. Not Dan. Dan’s first meat meal after quitting plants: a hot dog. (6)Beautiful Dan. In addition to teaching me how to write, this wonderous man taught me how to think, taught me love, taught me how to drink, how to drink less, humility, and Life. (7)There are—in Dan’s words—“a fuck of a lot” of us who have benefited from his beauty.It’s no secret our industry, country, and world could use some more wonder. Wonder makes Life joyous.Speaking of Life, Dan went peacefully in his wife Priscilla’s arms, surrounded by his cool-as-fuck family.This 'peacefully thing' is somewhat ironic, given the man LIVED AND WORKED OUT LOUD, but it’s deserved.Dan didn’t do anything peaceful. Hell, he didn’t even sleep peaceful—he could snore paint off a wall.Alzheimer’s is a horrible disease, especially for a man who changed the world with his brain.He’s in a better place, reunited with Kennedy and creating the greatest agency ever in the hereafter, W+K Afterlife. I can only pray Dan and Dave are stupid enough to hire me again when I get there, if I ever get around to dying.Dan Wieden is and always will be a wonderful, living, once-upon-a-time fairytale.Thank you, Dan, for letting me in on your magic.______________(1) As a philosophy major, I could write things with lots of footnotes called Hegel’s Theory of Punishment, Nietzsche Contra Hobbes, and some ditties about Spinoza, Kierkegaard, et al. Got good grades. Not sure they could make sense to normal human beings, let alone help sell shoes.(2)George Nissan. Coincidence?(3) You knew you were in trouble when Dan yelled at you. You knew he was yelling at you because his voice would jump a few octaves and he would sound like the second-string Hanna-Barbara cartoon character Tennessee Tuxedo (voiced by Get Smart’s Don Adams). Lots of swearing was involved, by Dan. Sometimes it was hard not to laugh. Sometimes.(4) Once upon a fucking time, a group of devout non-swearers asked Dan if he could tone down his and the agency’s language. Dan politely told them, “Fuck off.”(5) Tasted like chicken.(6) Speaking of carnivorousness, Dan wanted to die by being eaten by a wild animal. He didn’t get his wish.(7) Rest assured, Dan is still working on my humility from the other side. He still has work to do.Life was good with Dan Wieden:

In a kilt...

...a fez...

...a coffee shop...

...on a sidewalk...

...with Kennedy...

...with my mom... everywhere.

Tell me about David?Kath Kennedy asked me to write David Kennedy’s obituary.What an honor. What a daunting task. What a gulp. HELP!Goddamnit, it’s like trying to write Santa’s obit.What can you say about a man so humble, so averse to publicity, that his long-time business partner, Dan Wieden, once quipped he was shocked Kennedy even had a driver’s license? This is a man who wants to be buried in a pine box with nothing more than three simple words on his tombstone: He Was Old. Guarantee you, he’s pissed right now because someone is writing his obituary.Leave me and my pens alone, I got work to do!Sorry, Kennedy. Deal with it. You are loved.Like Santa, Kennedy liked giving. He considered it his job, his raison d’être—not that he would ever use a highfalutin set of French words like that, nope, no way, non. He especially liked giving to the misfits, the little guys, the kooks, the dorks, the confused, the flawed, the ungotten, the left behinds, the lost, the what if-ers, the WTF?!s, the wrong ways, the upside downs, the inside outs, the lunatics howling at the moon—Kennedy could howl at the moon with the best of them and the rest of them. Like Santa, he dispensed gifts—encouragement, smiles, sketches, wisdom, direction, rambling stories, the Pillsbury Doughboy’s life story, dumbass jokes—over and over again. Pats on the back, non-lethal kicks in the pants, hugs, perverted whimsy, birthday cards, handwritten notes galore—the man kept Post-it Notes in business for chrissakes! Green beans, candy, cookies, ouzo, handmade toys, photo ops, his incomplete complete attention, his heart, his actual blood (O-, BTW), his devotion, and his comfortable blankets. He was big on blanket giving; Kennedy was the biggest on giving.So, it should come as no surprise that Kennedy’s favorite thing at the agency that bears his name was playing Santa every Christmas for the last 435 years. He had the beard. He had the white hair. He had the disposition. He had the Ho ho ho’s. He had the belly. The only difference between him and the OGSanta: Kennedy Santa’d it up 365 days a year. In your face, OG Santa, you lazy SOB! Kennedy was all Santa, all the time.The world could use some more Kennedys. Call them Kennedy Clauses.Oh, that proper obit thing. Where to start? I guess you can start with the details. David Kennedy. Born North Pole…kidding…maybe…born Kansas, May 31, 1939. Grew up in Oklahoma as, in his own words, third-generation oil-field trash. Learned to shoot a gun, and did so, a lot. Hunted animals and fish, a lot. Got a job as a welder at 13, and didn’t accidentally light himself on fire, surprisingly. Went to college in Colorado. Liked the mountains there. Learned to give the finger—nobody gives the finger better than Kennedy. Got an art degree. Created the most immaculate handwriting in the whole history of handwriting. Worked in a bar with some guy named Robert Redford.Met and married his wife, Kath, in 1963. Out of his league, he’d tell you. Joined the Marines, became one of its top sharpshooters—a skill that would come in handy later when dealing with ornery advertising clients. Moved to Chicago. Got a job in advertising. Tried to murder the Pillsbury Doughboy. Had kids 1,2, and 3—Cathlin, Erinn, and Brendan. Worked. Had kids 4 and 5—Siobhan, Ian. Worked. Missed mountains. Moved to Portland, near mountains. Met Dan Wieden. Did wood ads with Dan at McCann-Erickson. Cast Dan as Noah in one of those wood ads. Started an ad agency with Dan. Let Dan put his name first. Found the agency’s principles in a rented dusty drawer. Worked on Nike. Did beautiful work on Nike, full of impeccable craftsmanship. Worked on every single account at his agency, no matter how small or soul-sucking. Hated meetings. Loved spray booths. Hated organization. Loved messes. Got mad at paper cutters. Got really mad at empty coffee pots. Got famous and couldn’t care less. Got mistaken for the janitor on more than one occasion. Got gifted the name Wichasha Owayakepi Chuntaby the Lakotas; it means He Who Sees the World with His Heart. Got his own totem pole. Who gets their own totem pole?! Beat that, Custer! Worked some more. Retired. Got a motorcycle and didn’t splatter himself all over the asphalt, another pleasant surprise. Worked even more. Cursed cell phones and computers. Worked more than ever. Died October 10, 2021. Last words: I don’t feel so good. Went to heaven or someplace else. Currently working.Loved family. Loved mountains. Loved work. Got it?Yep, that about sums up Kennedy. However, just as I’m trying to do this very instance, summing up Kennedy is IMFUCKINGPOSSIBLE, cheap even; so much so, you might as well go and try to dam a river with a toothbrush. Both exercises in futility, I tell you. Summation short changes Kennedy and us; Kennedy is beyond summation because Kennedy is spirit, soul, lifeblood, his own zeitgeist. Can’t sum that stuff up.If you’ve been lucky enough to bump into that zeitgeist, you know what I’m talking about. It was like one of his beloved blankets; it warmed and comforted you. It wrapped you up, and—bingo!—you were better for it. You thought better. You cared better. You worked better. You gave better. You shared better. You loved better. You gave the finger better. You grew better. You ignored meetings better. You succeeded better. You failed better. You bettered better.Now, if you haven’t been lucky enough to get spiritually blanketed by Kennedy, here’s a crash course, starting with those five principles he found in a drawer. Take notes.Don’t act big.No less than Francis Bacon said, All art is meaningless. If Bacon said that about art—ART—imagine what Kennedy would say about advertising. Recognizing something, in this specific case, advertising, for its meaninglessness in the grand circus tent of things makes for capital-B Better advertising. Armed with this Kennedy-ism, we get advertising that at least attempts to be more thoughtful, more humane, more respectful, less shouty, less rude, and less worthy of getting punched in the face over. Also know that Kennedy would take issue with being mentioned in the same paragraph as Francis Bacon, despite their common Irishness, occasional grumpiness, notoriously cluttered workstations, and affinity for the dram.No sharp stuff.Sharp stuff hurts. Don’t hurt anyone. Don’t coddle them, either; nurture them. Nurturing allows for two people to grow up better. (NB: The No Sharp Stuff rule does not apply to the following sharp stuffs: paper cutters, X-acto knives, and pushpins—three of Kennedy’s favorite things.)Follow derections [sic]. But use those derections [sic] as a starting point, a place to wander from, discover, and try new things. Consider yourself a tightrope walker and those derections [sic] your safety net. It’s a place you can always come back to after your journey. Wind yourself up and go; you are safe here. Send postcards.Shut up [sic] when someone else is talking. Interrupting somebody is just plain rude. But more importantly, the world is full of talkers, more so than ever, so listen more. Kennedy was a listener.The work comes first. Yes, it does. Yes, it always will. The work is the making—it’s what those seven licensed Disney characters sing about. It’s the work that gives all of us our jobs. It’s the work that brings us together. It’s the work that gives us the good times. It’s the work that gets us through the bad times, an all-too-common time in advertising. It’s the work where you find your voice, even if you trip over it, even if it screams, I CANNOT STAND ADVERTISING! LET ME OUT!! More power to that voice; it’s yours. Congratulations, don’t forget to thank the work for it on the way out. No offense to Karl Marx, another giant of a man with a giant of a beard, but Wieden+Kennedy is the actualized Worker’s Paradise, thanks to Kennedy, the man who, not without reason, came to the office with his name on it, dressed as a worker.

Heigh-ho!Kennedy would add one thing to the above rules: Fail harder.There’s a reason a zillion pushpins spell out those two words in the agency (in a true craftsman’s reverse). Oscar Wilde, a David Kennedy by another name if there ever was one, once said most of us will die of a sort of creeping common sense. Not Kennedy. Fuck you, Common Sense! If you’re not willing to fail, pick yourself up, and fail again, you really haven’t lived. You may have survived, but you haven’t lived—there’s a difference, a big one. Some of the greatest things in life are the results of somebody failing: Play-Doh, potato chips, the Slinky, saccharin, penicillin, pacemakers, colorful wardrobes, Post-it Notes (you’re welcome, Kennedy), Silly Putty, microwave ovens, Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, and LSD. Failing is life. Overcoming those failures is life-affirming.Think we’re talking about advertising? We’re not. We’re talking about priceless and eternal life lessons—humility, kindness, discovery, listening, growing, falling, getting up again. That’s Kennedy.Thank you, Kennedy.Kennedy’s obituary is a living obituary.Kennedy. The Man. The Spirit. The Soul. The Lifeblood. The Zeitgeist.The Blanket.God that blanket is missed.David Kennedy is survived by his wife of 3,489 years, Kathleen, daughters Cathlin, Erinn, Siobhan, and son Brendan, and preceded in death by son Ian. He is also survived by his 18,000+ stepchildren who are lucky enough to have ever worked for this man at Kennedy+Wieden.

Tell me about 12?W+K12 is an experimental advertising agency masquerading as an experimental advertising school. It is a yearlong free fall into the world of real advertising with real clients, real work, real ups, real downs and the occasional real unpleasantness associated with the business.It features guidance from jaded advertising professionals, Kafka, acid, art shows, Picasso, making things, destroying things, Hitler’s car, foolishness, fearlessness, chaos, creativity, and a bunch of shipwrecked boarding school boys.So, by definition 12 is an experiment. It takes a lot of interesting thinkers, doers and odd ducks not really associated with advertising and finds out if it can turn them into odd duck advertising thinkers and doers in 365 days or less. This is not an easy task. It may even be called a crapshoot.Sometimes it works.Sometimes it doesn’t work.Again, that is the definition of an experiment: it is unpredictable. If it were predictable, it would not be an experiment. Creativity exposes unpredictable things.Andre Breton said, “The man who cannot visualize a horse galloping on a tomato is an idiot.Furthermore, 12, while doing real advertising for real clients, is not a technical advertising school like VCU and the like; let’s call it a metric of success. It does a lot more creating and making than just creating and making advertising. It exposes its students to all kinds of stimulus outside of advertising; because I have always believed the best way to do the best advertising is to get out of advertising and experience the world.Furthermore continued: It seems that people want to apply reason to WK12, be it a very specific what, why or how---let’s call it a metric of success. Here’s a little quote about reasonableness from George Bernard Shaw: “The reasonable man adapts himself to the world. The unreasonable man adapts the world to himself.All progress depends on the unreasonable man.” (Perhaps Mr. Breton and Mr. Shaw would worthy 12 teachers.)In other words, W+K12 must be more than a farm system for big W+K. I’m not saying that the farm system thing isn’t one of its roles; it’s not just the only role. Hopefully, the school sends people who have lost the fear to be creative out into the advertising world, and yes, there is more to the advertising world than W+K.And, yes, it is good to have people graduate from 12 and not want to be in advertising, especially if they learned something from the school and used it to make a difference in a field of their choice.I’m talking specifically about 12.6’s Thor Drake. After graduation, Thor made decent money freelancing, but decided advertising wasn’t for him. He used the experience from 12 and put it towards his motorcycle fetish. He currently runs one of the most successful motorcycle/motorcycle art show in the country. He also runs his own custom-built motorcycle shop and Portland’s only motorcycle coffee shop. He says he would have done none of the latter if it weren’t for 12.So, maybe the metric of success is what the students have to say or do upon graduation, regardless of if they say or do it at WK or elsewhere.Was it worth giving up one year of their lives for a jump into this experiment of the unknown? Did they learn something about themselves? Did they change? Did they grow? Would they do it all over again?Let’s hope the answer is yes.After Sartre said: To be is to do.If Sartre is too heavy for you, you can go with ol’ blue eyes, Frank Sinatra: Do be do wah.Lil' Penny.