John Ham passed away a week ago. No relation to Jon Hamm. But there was a connection.
Jon Hamm, the actor, is best known for playing the character of Don Draper, a cigarette-smoking ad agency man in the 1960s, on Mad Men.
John Ham also was quite the character. He was a cigarette-smoking ad agency man in the 1960s. And the 70s, 80s, 90s and 2000s, too.
I worked with John from 2000-2005. He was an illustrator, and a damn good one. He did a lot of the packaging artwork for the original line of Star Wars action figures and toys. He created the illustrations for a Cincinnati beer company’s souvenir six-packs of the Reds World Series Championship way back in 1976.
By the time I joined the agency where “Hammy” worked, he was 62 years old… the wise (and wisecracking) elder statesman of the creative team. He didn’t really need the money – he and several friends had broken away from a big agency to form their own small ad agency decades prior. They grew the business, and were eventually bought out by a big national firm. But John was a people person through and through. “Gregarious” is probably the best adjective. He genuinely enjoyed the camaraderie of a creative environment. Always smiling, always generous with his time. He was much older than the rest of the creative team, but it never really felt that way. He was one of us. And when he wasn’t pursuing his art at work, he was engaged in his other passion: playing tennis.
Toward the end of his career, John would often get tapped to create a “farewell” caricature. It was usually for a bigwig who was leaving P&G (our largest client by far). But occasionally he’d create them for co-workers. I was lucky enough to get the Hammy treatment when I left the agency.
When John retired in 2008, Keith Neltner, our mutual friend and co-worker, turned the tables and created a caricature of Hammy in that same style.
The Yoda in the illustration is fitting – not just because of John’s Star Wars experience, but also because he was a lovable, wise mentor to all of us.
I shouldn’t feel so bummed out about the passing of a guy with whom I haven’t worked in 15 years, especially someone who made it to 83 (despite the smoking habit) and lived a very fulfilling life. But that smile, man, it was incandescent. We’ll miss that light.
Well, this past week was a whole ‘nother level of abnormal, wasn’t it? I mean, we thought Kim and Kanye would be together forever, amirite? Oh, and I think something happened in D.C. too…
First, a couple of notes to the folks who are saying “this is not who we are” about the ugly rioting by Trump’s thuggish, domestic terrorist minions:
This is who we are. 74 million Americans voted for Donnie Dumpsterfire. (74 million is the real count, not the mythical one.) And he topped Gallup’s 2020 poll for the most admired man in America.
But today, let’s talk about the folks who allowed The Ego in Chief to run rampant for the past four years. The ones who work in the building that was overrun on Tuesday. My friend Greg summed it up nicely yesterday:
Ever since he won the nomination he has had enablers of various types. Hypocritical sycophants– Cruz, Graham, et al. They declared Trump as unfit, citing the clear proof. After Trump’s election they became full-blooded Trumpists. Another type–Jim Jordan, Matt Geatz, Nunes, et al. Suddenly highly noticeable like stink on shit by ratcheting up their always wacko selves. And finally the many. Think Portman and many others. Stayed as unnoticeable as possible. Too chicken to call out Trump on so many opportunities, thereby being perhaps the worst enablers of all. And even after the latest episode some of them still yammering about needing a solution to the nonexistent problem of voter fraud. The ones who went on record before and even after the riot, opposing electoral votes that Biden won. Wenstrup, Jordan, Chabot.
I couldn’t agree more. By not speaking out against Baby Donald’s baseless claims, by not calling him out on his blatant lies, his egregious (and seditious) acts, they gave a whiff of credibility to the circus… they gave oxygen to the dumpster fire. Not just about the non-existent “stolen” election but to all the stunts he’s pulled for four years.
In the days leading up to the Electoral College certification, 13 senators and 100+ members of the House (all Republicans, of course) were, as the Washington Post so eloquently put it, “more interested in placating Trump than protecting democracy.”
Heck, even after the Capitol was overrun by Trump terrorists, eight senators and 139 reps still voted to sustain one or both of the objections to states’ election results, based on spurious allegations of voter fraud. (To quote our incoming Prez, “c’mon man!” Heck, even Bill Barr said there was no evidence... yes, the same Bill Barr who, on most days, could give Trump a colonoscopy with his nose.)
I hope these politicians realize there’s blood on their hands. Brian D. Sicknick, an officer with the U.S. Capitol Police, passed away Thursday night.
Acting attorney general Jeffrey A. Rosen said in a statement that Sicknick died of “the injuries he suffered defending the U.S. Capitol, against the violent mob who stormed it on January 6th.”
I hope their consciences haunt them, much like Lady Macbeth’s did…
No, their hands will never be clean. And it’s time to clean house (and Senate).
In the same Gallup poll where DT was the most admired man, Michelle Obama was voted the most admired woman. Here’s what she had to say after Tuesday’s events:
If we have any hope of improving this nation, now is the time for swift and serious consequences for the failure of leadership that led to yesterday’s shame… Thankfully, even in the darkness there are glimmers of hope… But make no mistake: the work of putting America back together, of truly repairing what is broken, isn’t the work of any individual politician or political party. It’s up to each of us to do our part. To reach out. To listen. And to hold tight to the truth and values that have always led this country forward.
Harry Shearer’s splendidly satirical radio program/podcast (he’s cross-platform!) Le Show does a great job pointing out the folly and foibles of humankind. His two-minute intro to the first show of 2021 made a great point about the silliness of a “brand new year”:
It’s so true – we put waaay too much stock into a single, solitary day on one particular calendar.
“Does the fate machine restart each time one of those flips a year?… We could just take the alternative path, resign ourselves to the ‘random now’…”
Harry Shearer
I love that phrase, “the random now.” Instead of making grandiose resolutions and year-long goals (most of which end up in the dustbin or collecting dust within a couple of weeks), just focus on the here and now. That way you won’t “break” your resolution irrevocably or feel like a failure.
Don’t take on the extra burden to create a “New You” in the “New Year.” The ‘year’ is arbitrary… the ‘you’ is always evolving, moment by moment.
Can you spot “Creed Bratton” from The Office in this band!
My birthday is New Year’s Eve. (My dad always liked to say I was a “last minute tax deduction.”) But on Facebook, my birthday is erroneously listed as New Year’s Day. Probably because my Facebook account was created without my knowledge or consent. Several years ago, my desk at work was in a “quad pod” with Jason, Navendu and Gopal. (Yes, I know, it sounds like the uber-nerds who kept getting shoved into a corner at the fraternity rush party in Animal House. )
Jason, Navendu and Gopal would always be talking about the latest Facebook happenings, and I’d be out of the loop. Blissfully so, I might add — I loved playing the cranky, technophobe, “get off my lawn” old man of the group.
But one day, as a practical joke, Gopal secretly set up a FB account in my name. (He even created a gmail account to set it up… it’s the gmail address I use to this day.) Then he, Jason and Navendu friended this account before letting me know that I actually was on Facebook.
I’m guessing Gopal just picked the default 1/1 as my birthday. When you’re creating a clandestine account (probably when I was sitting three feet away), you don’t have time for those details.
Every year on January 1st, I get several “happy birthday” notes from fellow Facebookers. They’re not only a day late, technically they’re an entire year late.
I probably should correct the date in my FB profile, but I’m not on FB enough to care… and part of me likes knowing that Marky Mark Zuckerberg and his Funky Bunch of Data Miners don’t know everything about me.
Plus, the fake date makes me look younger than I am.
My old radio boss is finally calling it quits on broadcasting. Gary Burbank was the last of his breed, a radio personality who did “theater of the mind” comedy sketches. Mel Blanc may have been called the “Man of 1,000 Voices” in Looney Tunes cartoons, but Gary probably did more voices than anyone else, including Mel. And unlike the current breed of “morning zoo” personalities, his bits were funny without being prurient and/or insipid.
Photo credit: The Cincinnati Enquirer/Michael E. Keating
Gary’s show was syndicated to multiple stations in the mid- to late-90s, which is when I was part of the cast and crew. I learned a lot from GB -about humor in general, about doing character voices, about comedic timing, about how to deal with freelance writers and how to organize a show. Every day was a new adventure. It wasn’t always easy, but the end result was always entertaining. In many ways it was a dream job for me, but I was born about 20 years too late to be able to make a decent living at it.
In 2007, Gary retired from his weekday afternoon radio show on WLW-AM (known as “the nation’s station” because as a 50,000 watt clear channel AM station based in Cincinnati, it would reach 38 states at night). He created dozens of indelible characters (a partial list is on this Wikipedia page) but the one who lasted the longest was Earl Pitts, a blue-collar, ‘murica-loving redneck. Even after he retired from his daily show, Gary continued to record Earl Pitts commentaries, which are syndicated and air on several stations around the country. Now, at 79, he’s finally calling it quits on Pitts.
Gary’s already in the national Radio Hall of Fame — deservedly so — and at this point in his life he’s certainly earned the right to call it a day. But it’s a sad day for radio, because they don’t make ’em like Gary anymore. The good news is, Gary is turning his attention to a podcast that will feature several of the characters he created. So we’ll still be able to hear his voice(s).
You can read more in this article from John Kiesewetter, formerly of the Cincinnati Enquirer and now with WVXU (the former Xavier University station!).
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
You done said…