Who's Name is on the Door Anyway?

This weekend I met up with someone from my old agency, the San Saba Agency. When I say old agency, I really do mean old agency. Charlie has such an antiquated way of looking at the Hispanic market. The problem with being the president of a small agency is that you have total creative control over everything. If you don't like an idea, you can veto it on the spot. If you love an idea, no matter how ridiculous it is, it's gold, baby. It's gold.

Like some of the smaller agencies in Chicago, Charlie San Saba ran his agency in full dictatorship mode. He was a brilliant king among his many stupid peons, and he made no qualms about it-he rocked and we could all kiss his Cuban ass if we disagreed (I just wish he would have told me this before so I would have known what to expect). The Charlie-Fidel connection was always spoken of and, though never confirmed, always passed-down from generation to generation. "He must be related to Fidel," some would say, "only Fidel is less demanding, smarter, and not as prickish." Yeah, compared to Charlie, Fidel Castro is a chocolate-covered kitten-sweet and cuddly.

Charlie always spoke of "expertise" and "wisdom" and "excellence." He said that because his name was on the front door of the agency, that his reputation was on the line. He would not lend him name to crappy commercials or spots, he would say, because they represented him and what he stood for; they made his reputation.