Old Dogs
Old Dogs
The man who gave me my first job in advertising is now in his mid-seventies. His mind is sharp as ever; his creativity is better than it was when we first worked together; he continuingly develops his skills in computer graphics and web technologies; and his work as a digital photographer and graphic designer is as powerful and relevant today as it was when he was in his thirties. He reads Wired, The Rolling Stone, and the Wall Street Journal. He watches The Office and South Park. His favorite band is Nickel Creek.
But he can’t get a job that pays him a decent living. Freelance projects from large corporations stopped coming years ago. Corporate ad managers and agency creative directors look at him and see an aging relic who spends his days watching TV-Land reruns. Today he gets by on a meager Social Security check, occasional sales of paintings and photos, and a few web design projects he does for friends. Though he is still a vibrant and active man, his lifestyle is nothing like it was a decade or two ago.
I, alas, appear to be following in his footsteps. Early on, I was told that the working life of an advertising creative lasted only until about age 55; after which you’d better have some savings put away, or start working for a real estate license. At age 65, however, I was still going strong. My creativity was still in demand, I was busy, and I could see no reason that I wouldn’t continue to be for a long time to come.
One year later, at 66, I found myself dead in the water. In the past, periods of no work would arrive occasionally and last a few weeks or months. That’s normal. But this dry period has lasted the better part of a year, and shows no signs of abating. Some of it may be due to the economic recession, but not all of it. I see that most of my younger friends in the business are working. Even freelancers like me are busy—the younger ones I mean. So I must conclude that I too have finally reached the age of invisibility. People
The man who gave me my first job in advertising is now in his mid-seventies. His mind is sharp as ever; his creativity is better than it was when we first worked together; he continuingly develops his skills in computer graphics and web technologies; and his work as a digital photographer and graphic designer is as powerful and relevant today as it was when he was in his thirties. He reads Wired, The Rolling Stone, and the Wall Street Journal. He watches The Office and South Park. His favorite band is Nickel Creek.
But he can’t get a job that pays him a decent living. Freelance projects from large corporations stopped coming years ago. Corporate ad managers and agency creative directors look at him and see an aging relic who spends his days watching TV-Land reruns. Today he gets by on a meager Social Security check, occasional sales of paintings and photos, and a few web design projects he does for friends. Though he is still a vibrant and active man, his lifestyle is nothing like it was a decade or two ago.
I, alas, appear to be following in his footsteps. Early on, I was told that the working life of an advertising creative lasted only until about age 55; after which you’d better have some savings put away, or start working for a real estate license. At age 65, however, I was still going strong. My creativity was still in demand, I was busy, and I could see no reason that I wouldn’t continue to be for a long time to come.
One year later, at 66, I found myself dead in the water. In the past, periods of no work would arrive occasionally and last a few weeks or months. That’s normal. But this dry period has lasted the better part of a year, and shows no signs of abating. Some of it may be due to the economic recession, but not all of it. I see that most of my younger friends in the business are working. Even freelancers like me are busy—the younger ones I mean. So I must conclude that I too have finally reached the age of invisibility. People