Sh-Boom

by Don Potter

  “There are never enough,” Pete grinned. “Not for a young man like you. Ed Gardner will tell you that, although he’s not the swordsman he thinks he is.”

  I left Pete’s office richer if not satisfied and wondering why he downplayed his role as my mentor. He had a way of calming down my ego without deflating me. Pete could say no yet make me feel as good as if he said yes. The phone was ringing, which interrupted my mental masturbation, as I got to my cubicle. It was Ed. He was in Pittsburgh for meetings. We made dinner plans.

  Ed parked his rental car at what was now my place and we walked over to the Hollywood Social Club, a place noted for good food and good-looking ladies.

  “Anything important happening?” I asked to get the business discussion out of the way.

  “In New York or here?”

  “Both.”

  “That might take some time.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “New York was made for me and vice versa.”

  “You know that after only a few months?”

  “Yeah. It’s an unbelievable place. The absolute center of the universe when it comes to advertising.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “And the chicks are phenomenal. Getting a date is like shooting fish in a barrel. Of course, they expect dinner and maybe a show, so you have to spend some bread. But, after a date or two, you have a good chance of scoring.”

  “That happens here too.”

  “But, young feller, New York chicks don’t live at home. Most of them have a couple of roommates and are aching to get out of their tiny apartments for a few hours or even the entire night. It’s a much more liberated place than Pittsburgh.”

  “Tell me what’s going on at the office.”

  “New York is a big city, but the advertising community is close-knit. It’s hard to break into the inner circle. That’s what today’s meeting was about. We might be buying an agency there real soon.”

  “Who?”

  Ed straightened and looked over my shoulder. “No more business. Pleasure time.”

  He left the table and did his rehearsed suave-gentleman lope toward the bar where two young women were sitting. He grinned, pointed me out, grinned again, said something to them and promptly shepherded the lovely ladies to our table.

  “Bev and Ginger I want you to meet the most creative adman in all of Pittsburgh, and possibly the world, Rob Fleming,” he said and made a polite sweeping gesture for them to sit. His next gesture, equally flamboyant, was to the waiter. I bet he practiced it in front of a mirror. The girls ordered gin and tonics. Ed switched to scotch, and I figured the best way to pace myself after the two martinis before dinner was with a beer. A couple of rounds later, Ed suggested we head down the street to a place that featured soft jazz.

  The noise level was lower in this bar and I was able to talk one-on-one with Ginger. Ed had latched on to Bev, which was fine with me, because I was attracted to Ginger from the start and wanted to know more about her. Her beautiful auburn hair, flawless white skin and alluring green eyes were accented by a shapely figure that swayed ever so slightly when she walked. Ginger appeared to be the complete package. The final question was did she have some smarts as well?

  “Judging from the accent, you’re not from Pittsburgh,” I said then realized this statement demonstrated that I was the master of the obvious.

  “You noticed,” Ginger responded kindly in a tantalizing southern accent. “Daddy was with Reynolds Aluminum in Richmond and moved here to head up a division of ALCOA.”

  “You’re called Ginger because you were born in Virginia or because of your red hair?”

  “Actually, my name is Virginia and the baby pictures show me with no hair to speak of until I was a year old. But put all those reasons together and I guess it was my destiny to be Ginger.”

  “Guess so. Where are you living?”

  “Just moved into Fox Chapel.”

  “My parents live there.”

  “It seems nice enough, but I haven’t made any friends yet.”

  “It takes time.”

  “Bev works at Carnegie Tech. I met her when registering for next semester, and she has been showing me around town.”

  “You’re studying engineering?”

  “I graduated from Virginia Tech and will be doing graduate work at Carnegie.”

  “An engineer? I must say you are the most beautiful engineer I ever met.”

  “Well thank you, kind sir. Ed says you’re the best copywriter west of New York City or something like that. I have always had a fascination for writers.”

  “Ed exaggerates things and a copywriter is quite different from the kinds of writers you find fascinating.”

  “Let me decide if I find your writing fascinating or not.”

  “Challenge accepted. Now, may I drive you home?”

  “Thank you kindly. You are a gentleman and I presume a scholar as well.”

  I drove Ginger home and we sat outside and talked for hours. A kiss goodnight at the front door sealed my fate. I belonged, heart and soul, to the lovely Ginger Jones.

  13

  The Pittsburgh steel mills go on strike. Hawaii becomes a state. Gas goes to twenty-four cents a gallon. Ginger is not ‘that kind of girl’. And Rob gets promoted all the way to Manhattan; Ed gets sent home.

  * * *

  I spent as much time as I could with Ginger, and it wasn’t long before I got to meet her family. She came from an old southern family with a solid set of values. Attending church services every week was one of them, so eventually Ginger asked me to go to church with her and join the family for Sunday afternoon dinner afterward. The Jones’s were Methodists and we Fleming’s were Presbyterians, but that was close enough for my folks to encourage me to join her family for worship services.

  Her parents were graceful southerners and, unlike the Fleming dinners with grandpa raging about the steel mill top brass - the table conversation at the Jones home revolved around gentler matters. One subject was Hawaii, which would be confirmed as a state once President Eisenhower signed the bill, bringing the total to fifty states. They had been there on a family vacation and talked about the beauty of this soon-to-be state. It made me want to pack my bags and go there immediately.

  After dinner, I put the top down on the Ford and Ginger and I took a ride up the Allegheny River and back before ending up at my apartment in Shadyside. We did some necking and I tried to turn this into petting, because it seemed like the right time for us to go all the way. Ginger thought otherwise.

  “Please, Rob. Let’s keep your hands above board,” she said as she gently pushed me away.

  “Don’t you care for me?”

  “I care for you very much. That’s why I need you to stop.”

  “We should know each other in every way, and there’s no better time for the sexual way than now.”

  “This may sound silly to you, but I’m saving myself for the man I marry.”

  “That could be a long time from now.”

  “It will be worth the wait.”

  We called a truce and I drove her home. Not much was said, but there was a lot for me to think about. One of the things I liked about her was the way in which she stopped me from pushing without showing any animosity, just firmness in her beliefs. I still felt a little stupid about the whole thing, though. She was quite a girl, but I certainly was not thinking about marriage nor would I consider marriage just to get a little. Besides, how would I know if we were sexually compatible unless we did it? We could still date for the time being, because I really liked her. But unless she had a change of heart, there was a good chance we would not be going to this year’s Christmas parties together.

  I went to the office early Monday morning and my phone rang as soon as I sat down. It was Ed calling from New York. “What are you doing there so early? Trying to make brownie points with the boss?”

  “He’s not here. It’s not even ei
ght yet.”

  “Wrong. Check out the main conference room upstairs and you’ll find all the top and middle management people in a pow-wow. They called me at my apartment. Good thing the stewardess who stayed over last night had an early morning flight and was gone when they called.”

  “You can tell me about your conquests later. Right now I want to know what’s going on around here.”

  “This is big; really big.”

  “Come on. Stop with the tease.”

  “Carlson/Andrews is about to purchase not one but two ad agencies. One is a hot boutique-y consumer shop here in New York that got into some financial trouble, and the other is an industrial agency in Chicago lacking a new business program.”

  “Guess they couldn’t decide which way to go and took the easy way out. Were they fire sales or what?”

  “Maybe, but-“

  “Call you later,” I interrupted and hung up as Pete walked in and waved for me to follow him. He led me into his office and closed the door.

  “You’re in early.”

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Got some news for you. This morning we put the finishing touches on the agency’s offer to buy a consumer agency in New York and an industrial shop in Chicago, which has a satellite office in Dallas.”

  He paused to light a cigarette, and I said nothing, although I had a million questions. “This is great for the agency and for you too.”

  I waited.

  “You will be moving to New York to work under one of the best creative people in the business. Now you’ll really get to learn the ropes.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Your major assignment is Continental Baking. They want all aspects of their account, including creative, to be handled in New York. There you’ll be under the wing of someone who wrote lots of great stuff for Y&R and more recently DDB before starting her own shop a few years back. She got tripped up by agency financial issues rather than doing what she does best: create great advertising.”

  “She?”

  “We just purchased Mary Parsons agency and she will be your new boss and mentor.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Mary’s shop has about twelve million in billing, if it all sticks. She’s got Noxzema, Breck hair care products, Welch’s juices and jellies, Chock full o’Nuts coffee, and a new product assignment from Revlon, along with a couple of highly visible fashion accounts - although highly visible, they don’t spend much money. Add more than three million dollars in billings from the consolidated bakery business to that and we have a good starting point on which to build the office. You’ll be in on the ground floor of it all.”

  “Never thought I’d be going to New York this soon.”

  “This move will take place in the next couple of months, so the office can be firing on all cylinders when 1960 arrives.”

  “Ed Gardner will be excited about this.”

  “Ed is coming back to Pittsburgh and his boss will be moving to New York to head up account service and make sure the office runs the way management wants it to run.”

  “How can Charlie O’Brian run the office, oversee the accounts and run a new business program without Ed’s help?”

  “New York is too much for Ed to handle. He’s having too much fun being a bachelor and using his expense account to feed his habit of wining and dining ladies all over town. And, New York is a very big town with lots of ladies.”

  “He’s fired?”

  “No, Ed’s a good account guy, but he needs to grow up a bit. So we’re bringing him home where we can keep a watchful eye on him and help Ed to mature. He’ll be able to move back to his old apartment, which you’ll be vacating.”

  “Does he know?”

  “Yes. Because Ed’s a friend of yours, perhaps you can pass on what you heard about why he’s heading back here. It could help him. If not, what I said may prove helpful to you. The party line is that Ed is taking over Charlie’s responsibilities on consumer accounts here in Pittsburgh, someone else will do the same with the industrial clients, so the ‘Big O’ can get the New York office off to a great start. It’s a win-win.”

  “I liked working with Ed.”

  “Pittsburgh is not Siberia. Who knows, you two could be heading up this agency someday,” Pete said with a smile.

  “Yeah, who knows?”

  “Anymore questions about New York?”

  “I’m sure there will be plenty to come but not now. I need to let the shock wear off before I can think straight.”

  “Good enough. Want to hear about Chicago?”

  I could not shut off my head, but I knew Pete wanted to paint the whole picture for me, so I said, “Sure.”

  “There are lots of smokestacks in and around Chicago. That simple fact led Mister Carlson to turn his attention from New York to the Windy City in an effort to make us an even bigger factor on the industrial and corporate side of the business. It also can help our public relations department gain a foothold in that part of the country.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous to fight battles on two fronts? Napoleon and Hitler didn’t do so well when they tried it.”

  “Good point, Rob. The difference is the agencies we’re buying have established beachheads in their respective markets, and we have people like you and Charlie O to help make the New York transition a rousing success. Chicago will be watched over by several people from here. It’s going to work if we all give this opportunity our best shot.”

  “And where does Pete Erskine fit into this grand scheme?”

  “Carlson needs someone to watch over the creative products coming out of each of our offices. So Rob Fleming won’t be getting away from me, at least not totally.”

  “Congratulations. You deserve it.”

  “With your help and the cooperation of others, we just might make this one of the best agencies around. You and I will be taking a little trip to New York as soon as the agreement is signed. We’ll talk about that later. Oh, and there will be a raise coming so you can afford to live in New York. Two raises in one year. That’s unheard-of around here. So keep it under your hat. You’re traveling on the fast track, young man. Next stop Grand Central Station.”

  New York was an exciting thought. But I had two more thoughts that were troubling. Friendship aside, if Ed Gardner crossed over the line, why didn’t they fire him? And what would it be like working for a woman, particularly the one the industry trade papers referred to as the dreaded Mary Parsons?

  14

  Charlton Heston, aka Ben Hur, races his chariot across the silver screen. Murray the K spins all the latest tunes. Xerox announces a new kind of copier. And Rob meets Mary Parsons.

  * * *

  I told Ginger I would be leaving but we could still see each other, hoping that would encourage her to put out. She wouldn’t budge. So, I left for New York with us not being on the best of terms. Ed Gardner was on his way back to Pittsburgh. The trucks carrying our belongings must have passed each other on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Ahead lay a new job and a new boss.

  Mary Parsons surprised me from the beginning. Our first private meeting was held at the Golden Dragon, a Chinese restaurant near the Parsons agency’s Madison Avenue office. She stood up as I entered and shook my hand with a firm grip. “How does it feel to be a New Yorker?”

  “I’m not one yet.”

  “Have an apartment?”

  “Yes. Found one when I made a quick trip here with Pete Erskine last month. Can’t believe what a one bedroom goes for.”

  “This is not a cheap place to live, but it’s worth it. Hang your first picture and you’re officially a New Yorker. Sit down, and let’s get started.”

  We sat and she handed me a menu. I looked at the menu but peeked over the top at Mary. She was strikingly beautiful: tall, slender, and blond. My new boss, now somewhere in her late thirties or early forties, could have been a model when she was younger. Yet she had a hard edge about her. One that said,
I’m all you see and more; so don’t screw with me, buddy.

  “I hope you like Chinese,” she said and woke me from my moment of infatuation.

  “Sure,” I lied. “Anything you like is fine with me.”

  “No.”

  I failed to hide my surprise. “What?”

  “I said no. If you don’t know about Chinese food, say so. Don’t waffle around.”

  “I don’t know much about Chinese food.”

  “Then I’ll order for us. You’re in New York, where things move fast, the people are tough, and even minor mistakes can damage your career.”

  The waiter came as I was processing how my lack of knowledge about Chinese cuisine could stifle my career. Mary fired off a list of dishes and sent him away.

  “Ever had a woman boss before?”

  “No.”

  “Same as a male boss but with high heels. That’s the woman wearing the heels, although in this town you never know.”

  The food arrived and we ate. Some of it was hot, spicy hot, too hot for me to handle but I just keep eating.

  “You’ll get to like food like this. Like everything in life, to be good it should have a little kick to it,” she said, watching with amusement as my forehead broke out in sweat and I gulped down water. “Eat some rice. Water just prolongs the agony. Now for my thoughts on the business: at my shop, we work hard to create great advertising. I expect maximum effort and total concentration on the task at hand at all times, understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, and don’t eat that red thing, it’ll melt your teeth.”

  Life immediately got busy, Mary saw to that. She gave me creative assignments for a variety of clients and also involved me in account planning meetings. This was definitely Mary’s agency and she was totally in charge. I also learned the truth behind Ed’s move back to Pittsburgh. Mary told me one morning when she was reviewing one of my creative assignments. “This is good work,” she said. “Do you know why Ed Gardner was run out of town?”