Well, THIS is Awkward…
Oh, crap. I really thought I was going to Cannes. I even went ahead and planned for a huge celebratory announcement, but it seems that's no longer necessary. Cancel the confetti!
What? We already paid for it? Well in that case, screw it. Release the confetti!
While I stand firm in my assertion that I am the World's Greatest Salesperson, it appears I'll have to keep pushing that theory from here in the States, because I was informed on Tuesday that I won't have the opportunity to do so in Cannes. I would like to wish a hearty congratulations to finalists Y. Lee Abbas, Todd Herman and Eric Polins, however, for somehow beating me in this contest. You guys must be pretty crafty, 'cause I really pulled out all the stops. Kudos!
Despite my disappointment over not making it to Cannes, this contest really has been a hell of a lot of fun for me. I finally got some use out of the video camera I bought years ago and have been shamefully neglecting, plus I put together what I feel is a pretty cool website. And I've been fortunate enough to meet some really nice people who were either running or participating in the contest. So don't feel sorry for me. I'm plenty good at that for the both of us.
And Ogilvy, you hard-to-get minx, you: thanks for keeping it classy. Mat Zucker called me personally to let me know I didn't win (much appreciated, if a tad anticlimactic), and Ogilvy even added me to an Honor Roll of people who aren't going to Cannes but still managed to make an impression. And if Brick is the New Black, then who's to say that Honor Roll isn't the new Contest Champion? Nobody, that's who. And that's why I made this:
Yes, that's a bumper sticker. And yes, you can actually buy one. Consider it a loving tribute to my fellow Honor Rollers. Because the Honor Roll just ain't the Honor Roll if you don't get a bumper sticker. Rock on, my compatriots.
I Was Born To Win This Contest
I swear, I couldn't make this up if I tried. It turns out I not only have the skills to win this contest, but I'm also extraordinarily well-bred for it. My father has worked in sales for more than three decades...and sure, that's not exactly uncommon. But get this: I recently discovered that my mother is a bona fide Brickonista. No kidding! And it would seem that this powerful parenting combo makes me some kind of brick-selling wunderkind. (And before you ask: yes, "Brickonista" is a real word. Inventing words is a perk you get when you're the World's Greatest Salesperson. It's a pretty awesome job.)
See, I was visiting my folks yesterday and updating them on the contest when my wife happened to notice that their house is littered with brick doorstops. I hadn't noticed it myself because my mother, Brickonista that she is, had creatively wrapped her bricks in handmade fabric jackets to match the look of the room they are in. And she's been doing this for years, people. YEARS.
Ogilvy, I've said it before: winning this contest is my destiny. And you simply can't fight destiny. Did you know my Mom's birthday is the week of the Cannes Lions Advertising Festival? A nice French knick-knack would really make her day, don't you think?
Take a hike, Martha Stewart. My Mom's the craftiest, and if anyone says otherwise, I'll whomp them with one of her fancy-lookin' bricks. Don't be fooled by the genteel exterior - these things really pack a punch.
Margins! Margins! Margins!
If you want to get straight to the good stuff, you can click here to read my essay. You might be surprised to find it's missing some of the attitude I usually exhibit in these posts. (Hey, don't blame me. Blame Strunk and White.)
But even if you're not the essay-reading type, you're still in luck. I whipped up a quick little dramatic reenactment of the World's Greatest Salesperson team reading my essay and the inevitable outpouring of joy. It's below. Enjoy!
Who you tryin’ to get crazy with, Essay? Don’t you know I’m loco?
Good news! I received an email yesterday with specifics about the contest's next steps, including the topic for the required essay. I'm glad to report that the topic has evolved from the one originally mentioned in the contest's official rules, which was "why I am the World's Greatest Salesperson." I wouldn't want to waste the judges' valuable time arguing a point that by now has clearly been established as fact. Plus, the essay is limited to 500 words. Not including this post, I've already written 4,966 words on this site and produced about 14 minutes of edited video in support of that topic...a short-form essay seems a bit redundant at this point.
Fortunately for everybody involved, the fine folks at Ogilvy wisely updated the essay topic to the following: "Sales is crucial to our clients but how we sell has changed. What does selling look like in the 21st century?" That's a much juicier topic, and it gives me a better launch pad for creating a concise and effective bit of prose. Thanks for keeping it interesting, Ogilvy. I know what I'm doing this holiday weekend: crafting the blueprint for advertisting's next hundred years. And maybe going to a barbeque. But mainly the blueprint thing.
And to my non-Ogilvy visitors: check back on Wednesday, June 2nd and prepare to have your minds blown. I'll be posting my essay on this site after the noon submission deadline has passed. WARNING: I cannot be held responsible for any effects you may suffer after being exposed to the sheer awesomeness of my thoughts on selling in the 21st century. It's pretty potent stuff.
I imagine my holiday weekend will look something like this.
Suffice it to say that my wife is making other plans.
And finally, before I get in trouble with any Cypress Hill purists over this post's title - I know that "ese" and "essay" are not the same thing. But I'm getting ready to write an essay for this contest. It's a pun. And everybody knows that B-Real loves a good pun.
Today: The Semi-Finals. Tomorrow: The World!
What can I say, Ogilvy? I'm simply following your blueprint, and it's all going swimmingly. Damn, you're good.
I received word yesterday that I was chosen as one of up to fifteen "potential finalists" that will be whittled down to three actual finalists. And those finalists will be flown to Cannes so we can fight to the death for the title of World's Greatest Salesperson. They say we'll be "pitching on-stage to the world's most influential ad men and women," but I think we all know what that means: steel cage match. I'll be the fighter in the brick-patterned Luchador mask. You may call me "El Vaquero Ladrillo."
But back to the point: Ogilvy, you are the wind beneath my wings. See, I paid close attention to your announcement video, and specifically the part about "turning no into maybe, and maybe into yes." And respecting that process has brought real results. If you asked me 24 hours ago if I could say with absolute certainty I'd be going to Cannes next month, I'd have to say "no" (but I'd still have said "yes."). Ask me today, and I can say "maybe." And I'm confident that once we meet face to face and I dazzle you with amazing feats of World's Greatest Salespersonry, I'll turn that maybe into a "yes." It's a beautiful thing.
Well, got to go now. Between preparing for the interview and pumping up for the impending rumble in Cannes, I've got my work cut out for me. I look forward to meeting you in person soon, Ogilvy.
