First Person: Mike Baireuther, Copywriter
Why do I want to work in advertising? Square-rimmed glasses, that’s why.
When I was in fourth grade, I saw the movie Major League 2, and it changed my life for three months. Charlie Sheen returns from the first movie in this series as Rick “Wild Thing” Vaughn, a flame-throwing pitcher with control issues from a prison league.
He loses his dominating power during the first half of the movie. Until--he dawns his trademark specs.
Black, thick-rimmed, Buddy Holly-style frames with lightning bolts down each side and a skull-and-crossbones on the bridge in front.
Suddenly, the “Wild Thing” is lighting up the radar gun with devastating fastballs and leading a rag-tag group of Cleveland Indians to victory in a dramatic final game versus the Yankees.
Yes, as a nine-year old, I thought Charlie Sheen was the coolest guy in the world. As a young pitcher, and rebel at heart, I wanted the same kind of absurd glasses that could instantly make me throw world-class heat.
I began to feign reading difficulties in my classes to convince my mom to schedule an eye appointment. I forged my way through several different vision tests, arbitrarily choosing which images I could or could not discern.
All of this was in vain, as the optician saw through my shallow ruse. God cursed me with something close to 20/20 vision.
Having yet to see Top Gun and begin dreaming of becoming an ace pilot, I had little appreciation for my sound ocular health.
As I grew older, my taste in eyewear changed. Sadly, my piercing vision has yet to dull. I now yearn for the Helvetica-crisp look of square-rimmed glasses.
Everyone in advertising wears them. I already own stylish jeans and a worn-in pair of Chucks, but I just can’t fake near-sightedness.
Despite a whole-hearted endorsement from the much-maligned Sarah Palin, and hordes of suburban housewives peering over the right angles of their frames at convenient Borders locations everywhere, hipsters and artists alike cling to these stylish stalwarts of face fashion.
My face remains unadorned. Sure, I’ve get some knock-off Ray-Ban shades, but I always end up bumping into tables when I wear them inside.
Without the high-priced, designer equilaterals framing my baby-blues, I’ll never have brilliant ideas. How will I ever reach the nirvana that is convincing a direct mail recipient to spend an extra couple of dollars to pick up name brand paper towels?
How will I ever sublimely boost traffic to a “viral” website that is begging to illuminate consumers on their credit score from all three of the major credit agencies after they enroll in a monthly credit monitoring service?
How will I ever mount the Everest of an entire industry, and push a significant number of people to buy a Microsoft Zune?
Two years of school, staring at the blinding light of computer screens in dark rooms, and God willing, I’ll get my square-rimmed glasses. That’s how.
