A recent survey showed that on average, Facebook users clicks the ‘like’ button at least 6 times a day.  That’s a lot of ‘likes’ if you think about the total number of people on Facebook.  Nowadays, the once ‘liked’ can easily be forgotten or disregarded.  Things that are ‘cool’ don’t stay that way for very long.  The art of discovery has changed.  We find something that interests us, we click a button that notifies hundreds of our ‘friends’ within our social network that we ‘like’ it.  But, when too many people like something, it can also become quite unlikeable.

I just stumbled upon a European fashion retailer that displays Facebook ‘likes on actual articles of clothing that they sell in-store.  C&A enables customers to rate an article of clothing which tells shoppers which items are the most popular. This is supposedly a good thing which helps insecure shoppers, offering them a second opinion.  I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do is buy a jacket that I know 10,000 other guys think is ‘cool’.  I can hear the conversation now, “Hey man – nice jacket”  I dunno – would seeing a high ‘like’ count help you decide to purchase an article of clothing?

That ends next Tuesday. Because March 20^th is the first day of spring. It is the day more worthy of celebration than any other. Period. Christmas? We shop, eat, drink and pile up debt and if you miss a Charlie Brown Christmas, forget why.  On Feb 14 we celebrate love and chocolate and remembering to make a dinner reservation. We celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and Easter Bunnies. We celebrate every form of New Year with resolutions, more excess and regret. Really, there is only one date on the calendar that does something worth actually celebrating. THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING. The day that marks the end of the season that sucks.  Even the skiing’s better after that date. But the first day of spring is grossly overlooked and under-celebrated. We’re changing that. Why not? It’s our namesake.

On that hallowed day we’ll raise money for the Greater Vancouver Food Bank in the best and weirdest way we know, by jumping up and down on pogo sticks in public.  More on that later.

And yeah, there’s an element of self promotion, after all what good holiday goes without commercial content? Besides, it also happens to be our little company’s birthday and as we enter our 7^th year, we’re ready to make this day happen for everybody.

We worked on the names: Like: Solstice Day (too new age). Vernal Equinox Day (too literal) Spring Day (too self-serving) 3:20 (too stoner) Unwinter (meh) Blossom Day (really? really?) and landed on BOINK DAY.

It’s Boink Day because: That’s the sound that springs make in all better quality cartoons.  Boink because we’re all rebounding from the depression of winter. Boink Day because it has a nice ring to it. And spring is a time for fertility and reproduction and new life. Or for you “delete browser history” types, sex, or boinking if you will.

Every great day of celebration has its own rituals. There are rules. Rules such as giving, good will, and weird physical activities.  Here are those that belong to Boink Day.

1)   Giving: raise money for the local food bank. This time of year there is a real need.

2)   Goodwill: see above

3)   Weird physical activity:  Get on a pogo stick and for every bounce (boink) Spring (we) give 10 cents to the Greater Vancouver Food Bank. Last time we raised/donated over $6,000.

See you there and Merry Boink Day.  I will now compose a Boink Day Carol in its honour.

WHAT:       BOINK DAY

WHEN:       TUESDAY MARCH 20, 2012 6:30 AM TO 7:00 PM

WHERE:     NORTH SIDE VANCOUVER ART GALLERY PLAZA

WHY:         RAISE MONEY FOR THE FOOD BANK, CELEBRATE THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING, DO SOMETHING WEIRD.

WHO:        YOU

I’ve worn a lot of hats as an account services intern at Spring: coffee acquisition technician, pogo stick tester, VP telephone answering services – SW office regional division, account coordinator and so on. But electrician, NEVER. I’m not a scientist (THANKS Mom & Dad) but my understanding of changing light bulbs is that it involves voltage and electricity and other things that aren’t good for your brain. This situation was dangerous. Alas, the light bulb needed changing, so as the heroic intern my destiny was set.

Armed with only my nimble fingers and a step ladder that looked like it came from the set of “There will Be Blood,” I proceeded to tango with a needlessly complicated light fixture (THANKS Yaletown) for the better part of an hour. When all was said and done, I was shockingly (see what I did there?) still alive and the kitchen was awash in a warm halogen glow. Mission accomplished.

In conclusion, I’d like to thank:  gravity, Amir (for turning off the lights while I was changing them), and Spring for giving me the opportunity to change the light bulb…  and also work with a bunch of awesome people to accomplish some really great things. I’ve been an account intern for less than 2 months but the things I’ve learned have turned me on to a great career path and I couldn’t be more fortunate than to be here.  And hey, if all else fails, I’m going to get really good at changing light bulbs.

Update: The adjacent light bulb has now burnt out; such is the life of the Spring intern.

Exhibit A: Confused Intern

First thing we saw was The MET of course:

Though to my utter disappointment the one painting I wanted to see more than any other, Madame X, was not being shown because the American wing in which it hangs was under construction. I had to content myself with a different Sarjent and a side of Giovanni Boldini. As a treat I ran into a Jenny Saville painting which was astounding. I had no idea her paintings were so large.

A Sarjent and Jenny Saville

The Moma

As usual the Moma left me scratching my head more then it inspired, though parts of their more permanent collections certainly did the trick.

The design portion is a case and point of this. Seeing the simple sketch Milton Glaser did years ago turn into the symbol that it is today reminded me of why I’m in this business. Never before have I seen a museum focus an entire show to type and its influences.

Glaser and History of Digitized Type

Monet

The Frick

The Frick was great, but seeing as it’s a permanent collection and hasn’t changed since I had been there last, I wasn’t too excited to go. Did you know they have a bottom floor with a show that rotates? Me neither.

Anyway, this gallery at the moment was showing the work of Pablo Picasso. Picasso is somebody I have never really taken too seriously before. But seeing as I had about an hour to waste, I was intent on figuring it out. And yes, I realized why his work is so good. Though it did take seeing the work he had done when he was 15 to get it. Now next time I see a violin blown apart into a million abstract brush strokes, I’ll be able to think about the work he did to get to that point and appreciate it.

Society of Illustrators

This was probably the most inspiring part of the trip. To be in the same room as so many famous paintings was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.

We started off by eating lunch underneath the Norman Rockwell you see below. Then we were given a tour all the way up to the top floor where they keep the entire collection. Up there we got to pass around ridiculously expensive paintings as if they’re were, well, not ridiculously expensive. Quite unnerving…

Rockwell

Fuerza Bruta

All I can say is this was probably the greatest show I’ve ever seen. Just watch the video and you’ll see why.

Fuerza Bruta

Pencil Factory

Just a group of guys working out of a studio in Brooklyn with disciplines that range from illustration, to design, to motion graphics. Pretty cool and laid back space.

Pencil Factory Studio in Brooklyn and a WIP by Sam Weber

And some other stuff I did!

Found some Vancouver pride in NYC

Bought a bit too much

Drank way too much and went to the Museum of Natural History

All that being said it was a great trip. New York always is. I can’t wait to go again and I’ll be hoping, wishing, praying for the day I can say I work at Spring Manhattan.

Shon.

For anyone potentially looking to intern in account services, here are five reasons why I think you should do it.

1. Spring is an ad agency that is willing to take risks. This means that they will take risks on interns (for which I am ever grateful.) This means that you won’t spend every waking hour having to clean, take out the garbage, get coffees, or kiss feet. You also get do to things such as help with events, attend client meetings, create documents, and take brisk strolls through the brick footpaths of Yaletown as you go on bank runs.
2. Spring has done some really cool stuff which you can see for yourself on the website. You should be here for the next big thing. Whatever it is, it will be incredible.
3. Spring is funny. Everyone says funny things, shares funny videos, has funny posters. There is no lack of humour here. Even when it’s my turn to be the butt of the jokes, I still think they are funny.
4. Spring is in Yaletown, the land of Range Rovers and creative people. It’s right by the Canada Line, perfect for transit-using interns. It’s right by the water. Very pretty. It is generally just a nice place to be, and has an abundance of sushi and coffee.
5. Inside Spring there are not only some of the coolest people, but also trees, a straw covered wall, mussels, and an airplane wing. This is all true.

The last three months of being an account services intern have been a blast. If you’re lucky enough to be the next one, take advantage of everything you can, and laugh a little.

Everytime I call my parents back home in Sydney, I hear them shudder with how much my accent has changed. But who do i have to thank for this? My house mates (roomates) who continually mocked my pronounciation of ‘wart-ah’ to ‘wart -er’? My wonderful Albertan fiance who says he loves my Aussie-isms, though i think he’s secretly teaching me new Canadian words every day? I blame both!
Plus, of course, the kids in the Spring creative room that laugh when I use words like Sticky tape and Eskie.

So to help me stay Australian, and to teach you Canadians a thing or two, heres some translated words to help you guys out for anytime you might bump into one of us Roo-boxin’, Shrimp-barby’n, Koala-huggin’, upside down folk.

Oh and it’s not a Koala-Bear!

Last year, while at Future Shop, I decided to be a Hero. I purchased the camera along with LCD screen, head mount gear and all it’s sticky pads and began to shoot. I shot while boarding in Whistler, kayaking in Pt Roberts, riding the motorbike down ‘The Drive’ and I recently shot even more video on my latest vacation to Amsterdam and Italy about 3 months ago. I must have had about 50hrs of HD footage. It’s so tiny and easy to use. I managed to cut a video which you can watch below – but be warned, it’s a lengthy 14 minutes long ( which is short considering I was recording for what felt like 3 weeks straight )

Amsterdam to Italy from James Filbry on Vimeo.

This camera ( now available as the Hero2 and 3D Hero ) not only shoots 1080p HD while doing just about anything from surfing to rock climbing, but you can easily set it up to do hires time-lapse shots that range from 2 – 60 second intervals. I’m sure some of you are like ya, ya old news, but I still get excited when I wake up in the morning, see the mountains covered with snow and think about shooting my next snowboarding adventure. Have any of you shot with it and if so – where’s your vid?

It is always fashionable to thrash something.  Yet I cringe whenever someone makes a disparaging remark about Nickelback. In the faux sophisticated sphere of planet “creative professional” this happens a lot.

As Chad Kroeger must be tired of saying by now, you can all eff off. Sure I’m not a fan, but would you all please just think of something to hate that you actually hate? Going after a bunch of musicians who have slept in damp vans, starved and been shitkicked all over every small town in the land is just ignorant. They came out of the music business meat grinder to get a song on air and found success. They’re good Canadian boys.  I will now stand and produce a short round of applause…there, that felt good.

Nickelback wasn’t manufactured. They wrote their own stuff, they’re not fashion models with a producer. They‘re honest. We don’t have to like their music but we really have no right to beat on them.

Nickelback hate is an example of what I have just decided to brand as UTR  – Unimaginative Trendy Rejection. It’s OK to hate things, but not because the cool kids try to define themselves by hating something. We see a lot of this in hipster culture. Rejection of everything that isn’t completely alternative and brand new is no way to improve the world. In fact, those people seem like a much richer target to send our bile toward than the composers of When we Stand Together.

I say let’s put our hate energy into good things.  Let’s hate gas companies that collude on pricing on a minute-by-minute basis. Let’s hate the Groupons that force-commoditize the efforts of small business people. Let’s hate people who steal. Let’s hate things worth hating.  Why? Because anger is the energy for change. Point it in the proper direction and good comes of it. I will now post this classic example of positive hate that we loved a few years back.

So here’s what I beg of all of you. The next time you say you hate something ask yourself this, “Am I rejecting something that is truly negative and could use change? Or, am I just doing it to try to be cool?”

Love,

Rob

You see, I’ve been going to the Lotus Awards since it proudly held the record for the single biggest alcohol consumption night of the year at the Hyatt Ballroom.  Back then Wasserman and Cousins were the Staples and Grais of what was a pun and budget showcase of 80’s advertising brilliance.  They were my heroes.

Before long international judges were invited to deliberate on the city’s talent pool and we were amazed by the work of our local girls and boys. During both eras I never won so much as a door prize. Why?

This is why. It was the big agencies and their category blanketing.  It was the cozy relationships with the snob elite judging community. It was fake clients and fake ads. It was pornographic spots run at midnight in William’s Lake. It was pro-bono that smaller competitors couldn’t afford to get in the game with. It was calling in favours from well-paid suppliers. It was teams assigned to win awards while cash cow clients footed the bill.

Then (finally!) one year I won something. And my theories went down the crapper. This is what I learned. Like rock and roll, oil painting, filmmaking and all corners of art both commercial and non, you win when you get good. And you only get good when you work your guts out and fail repeatedly. The people who win at Lotus bloody well deserve it because they work very hard and have total commitment to their craft. Yes they have training, mentoring, education and support – so do ballet dancers. But like them, they have the hours of dedication and the long lists of failures and disappointments to show for it.

But as for you Lotus occupiers, you’re not just hurting yourselves, you are undermining what those dedicated talents are working hard for.  It’s like organizing a second Olympics for those who didn’t train hard enough or I’m sorry, didn’t have the talent to make the big show.  But what’s worse, you’re creating a false truth; that earned recognition is worthless.

For a little shop, Spring has had some good Lotus years. I haven’t the foggiest how we did this year but I do know one thing. If we didn’t win, it’s my fault.

For those of you “occupying Lotus” I suggest you give yourselves a very frank self-examination of the disciplines catalogued a few paragraphs above. Once you’ve done so, if you feel you’ve truly laboured at all of those things, then hold your head high while you occupy. If not, when winners win, losers should learn.

Love

Rob Schlyecher

Creative Director

SPRING

PS: No Spring is NOT represented on the Lotus committee.

If you get the idea that Canadians spend their summers in frantic enjoyment, you’re right. Canadian summer is a movie’s third act. Where warmer climates get warm sunny skies from as early as all-the-time to early March, we are a country of Julys and Augusts. To Canadians, the movie of our summer must be set up, acted on and resolved in one action packed reel of screen time.

This of course is followed by a winter of short wet and frozen days and long black nights without so much as a sniff of campfire or moonlit water skiing session. Yet like kids sent to bed at 6 pm we are still filled with energy. Sadly all we can look forward to are a few adventurous, cringingly expensive winter weekends and the odd midweek trip to artificially lit time-killing activities.

When the short film that is our summer comes to an end we are forced off the screen and into the audience. When that happens the screen is filled with one thing: Hockey.

Some may say we are a hockey-mad country.  I say we’re actually remarkably reserved about it.  Left with no where and no thing to expend our prodigious energy upon, only with one real sport remains. One where at least some of our own sons fight for the honour of our city in brightly coloured uniforms on brightly lit ice in front of people who have actually gone out into the godforsaken winter’s night to do something exciting, to do an activity!

Take any other slice of population. Give them two months of summer and 10 of winter. Give them too few cultural or population centres to increase the feasibility of other major league sports, cultural attractions or artificial summer pleasure domes. Blot out their local programming behind shinier, economies of scale produced foreign (US) TV shows.  Leave their the local media with nothing much else to talk about but hockey. Now, see how they do. In that particular version of doppelganger planet, I guarantee that local hockey players would be chosen by the populace on a regular basis for the position of dictator.

We cheer, yell; paint our bodies and from time to time our mentally and emotionally challenged set a police car on fire. Given the lack of other choices on offer during our deep chasm of winter, I call that remarkably civilized.