by David Russell

Today at most ad agencies, you're either a Writer or a Producer. But, in my day, being a Hyphenate was not unusual. In fact, the agency loved it, needing to cut only one paycheck for the two jobs. And as an aggressive kid, from my prospective what could be better than as the writer creating a concept and as the producer bringing it to life. I loved it, being a Hyphenate was as good as it gets.

How do you get to be a writer-producer? Serendipity helps. In my case, I responded to a radio school commercial hawking the great future in radio announcing. Unfortunately, my voice audition sounded like Mel Torme on a very, very foggy day. But, more serendipity, the school did a broadcast 8:30 Saturday Mornings airing a 15 minute drama, Not being a voice potential, yet paying my monthly check regularly got me titled "Producer" with instructions to get us on and off the air in 12 minutes so the station could make some money airing commercials. We were on and off in 12 minutes. Though voice students' weekly switched roles, it was always the same script every week. Wouldn't our two listeners become bored by week 3?

Naively (never having written one), I volunteered to write a new script to the school head, who was also Program Director of a major NYC Radio Station. “Do it”, he didn't care. Who would, other than our two listeners? The next Saturday we aired my new script. Ta-Da! I was now a Writer- Producer. 

A Hyphenate.

When the school term ended, the owner asked if I knew anything about music. Telling him I played clarinet and had that past summer worked with a trio at a New England Theatre, got me the (low-paying) gig to program music for a DJ while writing commercial copy. I was now a (minimally) paid Hyphenate!

Going way back, I believe my actual training began when 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Feldman, taught us “On a Street called Bye and Bye you come to a house called Never”. Since then, I've always honored every obligation is an obligation, to be delivered as promised. A necessary Producer prerequisite.

In 7th grade, I became aware of the power of the written word. After stroking a late inning homer to win a class rivalry game, in the school paper I wrote a gloating report. Noted by everyone. Loudly. But, what better preludes for a future Writer - Producer than those 2nd and 7th grade experiences?

I moved my act to scripting and producing a 6:30-7:00 nighttime Music Talk Show at an FM station five nights a week. Scheduled immediately ahead of us was News with Kevin Kennedy, later a NY TV News Anchor, News, and sports with Johnny Most, for years the voice of Boston Celtic basketball, Sports. (More soon).

Flash forward and for $37.50 a week, up from the FM $25, I was working in the Mutual Broadcasting’s traffic department. With OT, it rose to $50.
 Mutual was a National 24-hour broadcaster. Volunteering to fill a 6 am Sunday morning 15-minute slot no one wanted, my creation was “Echoes of Saturday Night”, which had a junior announcer reading my lofty words to stringy backgrounds; an attempt at word picturing the dying echoes of a city whose night had just ended. Inspiration by Norman Corwin.

Soon, upped to Traffic Department Head, my check rose to $50, but with no OT. Instead, since Mutual’s Channel 9, WOR-TV televised Dodger Baseball and my boss had a Press Pass he never used, it became my ticket to free park entry and free eats at the press Club. Where, who should I meet but old friends Johnny Most and Kevin Kennedy, both recently hired by Dodger owner Branch Rickey to air Dodger games outside Metropolitan New York. Rickey was first to realize the same broadcast could be sold as often as you could find buyers. When, Johnnie and Kevin invited “Come sit with us”, I smiled my way to their third base overhang box. Other than goffer-ing coffee, to keep busy I counted balls and strikes, and fed info to Johnny for use during his game call. When a statistic was needed, I dug it out of the fact book. It was fun and resulted in repeat welcomes.

Soon, as a “regular” I began to keep the commercial script folder in order while also digging up interesting trivia for Kevin's color coverage. In a way the trivia was Writing and keeping things orderly was Producing. I played Hyphenate for that one season. But, still young, I wanted more.

More was landing a real script writing job at a Mid-West Radio Station. Unfortunately, for a New York kid that small town proved just too small. But, my pseudo New York Television “Experience” got me on board when the Better Homes & Gardens Broadcast Division put a team together to build Mid-West TV stations.

If you've never spent summer in the mid-west, literally, you can fry an Egg on the sidewalk. What you can't do is get the Egg off the sidewalk. (Both tried with a live camera). My first National Award happened there; happenstance of the Missouri River overflowing its banks and moving towards mid-city. CBS covered it with film sent to New York, while Edward R. Morrow read my copy, continually phoned in while the program was still airing. That telecast won a National news award.

At the next station, a Kid's show included a daily animated Crusader Rabbit segment. I was show director when our sponsor, Blue Bunny Ice Cream asked if we would write the commercials. I grabbed the job. Since the episodes featured a 'Blue Bunny' so did the commercials. I positioned a guy in a Bunny costume against a far studio wall, sitting cross-legged on a black bench in front of a black backing. The camera lens I covered with black paper, except for a pin hole which made the bunny a miniature that allowed us to position him on the announcer's shoulder so they could talk to each other. With none of today's effects tools, the sequence was accomplished by two camera operators simultaneously “cracking” lenses half way, one to the right and one to the left. Voila! A man talking to a rabbit on his shoulder. 
No one move!!!!!


When that station was fully staffed and up and running, our start up crew moved on, only when we settled in we learned construction delays would keep us there and idle for two months. Though BHG moved the group on, I stayed, because a chance meeting with the owner of a local ad agency resulted in a Writer - Producer job offer. I was now a true $$ Hyphenate.

Taking one look at a Pontiac convertible the agency were scheduled to film with its deep green leather interior and cream colored exterior, for me it was love at first sight. Getting a huge discount because I saved them the cost of the commercial, I became a Hyphenate with wheels.

“Make us a TV commercial”, said our Bread Company client, “but make it good” and not too expensive. I recruited our agency Art Director with his 8-mm wind-up Bolex. Working day and night, we built and hand-manipulated, shot-by-shot, clay puppet characters against Papier Mache back- grounds, making four :60 commercials. After recording announcer tracks, my new Pontiac tooled me to the sole area film lab, where they processed one print per spot to get us on the air. The client sold a lot of bread because we did make it good and unbelievably not expensive. Total cost-$100 per spot X 4. How about that, you today $1,000,00 ad spenders?



A career move brought me to a Cincinnati ad agency with a solid client list including National Account Red Cross Shoes, Hudepohl Beer, sponsor of Cincinnati Reds Baseball, the Telephone, Gas and Electric Companies, Central Trust Bank and Gibson Wines. Early on, all agency creatives were told to meet to concept crash on a new Gibson product, Dry Vermouth. Back then, no mention of liquor was permitted on television. Our task was to sell Dry Vermouth without saying the word, Martini. As soon as suggestions began to fly, what flew from my mouth with absolutely no pre-thought was “Gibson’s Dry Vermouth and you-know-what, makes an extraordinarily dry you-know-what!” Absolute silence! The strangest looks! To his credit, the CD recovered with, “We'll put signs in every bar and on billboards showing waitress’ saying ask me about my ‘you know what'!” Soon, you couldn't go into a Cincinnati bar not having “you-know-what". My year in Cincinnati was fun, but greedy me wanted bigger and better.

That came in the form of The Island of Jamaica, where at a Miami agency, we wrote ads tempting wintering Northerners to the Island. With Batista's Cuba nearby and it being possible to weekend for under $150, life was good. But not bigger nor better.

3 years after leaving New York, thanks to a Head-Hunter, bigger and better happened at a Madison Avenue shop where I was brought in to write copy for Barney's, National Shoes, Elevator Shoes, Bonomo Turkish Taffy, Foot-Joy Golf Shoes, Ronzoni Spaghetti, Esquire Boot Polish and Manischewitz Wine.

Since my parents lived a subway ride away and they had the room, there I camped. In an apartment below them was a teacher who taught at the same school as my future wife. She introduced us. We hit it off, tying the knot in 6 months. I was now a married Hyphenate and soon a Father Hyphenate. Following three Mad Ave. years, a job paying double headed us to Detroit. My Detroit Creative Director was Jack Eliot. When he wasn't making ads, he had penned, “It's So Nice To Have A Man Around The House”, “Sam's Song” and “Elmer's Tune”, money makers all. Jack taught me how to marry lyrics to ad concepts, resulting in this first effort,

“You can eat in your car or come inside, sit down, relax and enjoy, the delicious food and atmosphere at your nearby Big Boy”.

Hearing it played on the radio was heady stuff; it was the first of many lyrics to follow. But music wasn't all we did. Our Gasoline and Beer accounts sponsored Detroit professional baseball and football. Sponsors then, not networks, owned the Broadcasts. We produced the broadcasts, which made me a hyphenate once more, writing and producing both the commercials and the broadcasts.

Advertising, though, had its ironic moments, here's one I lived through, though the laughs came later. Our account, Hygrade’s Meat had bought Chicago made Mrs. Grass Soups. I was asked to write the commercials. That night, thinking back to my Brooklyn days, I remembered when mothers would lean out their windows to call their kids to dinner. What appeared on my yellow tablet was:

WOMAN'S VOICE CALLING: 'Irving, time for Dinner'.

MAN'S VOICE: 'Momma was so smart, she used to say, Irving, practice a little more and I'll make soup for dinner.

SOUND EFX: VIOLIN PLAYING SCALE EXERCISE.

MAN VOICE CONT'D: 'No one could resist momma's soup. Neighbors were always saying, Mrs. Grass your soup is so good, you should open a business. And she did. Mrs. Grass' Chickeny Noodle Soup...etc... to the final line,

MAN: 'Try Momma's soup, You'll know why everyone loves it.


Two like scripts followed. Next morning they were on my boss' desk. He asked, 'What took so long? Where do you want to record them?” My suggestion was with a Hollywood source we regularly used. 15-minutes later, he called saying, “Go for it”. I phoned our Hollywood friend to set the session, faxed the scripts, went home, packed and flew West arriving in time to hear the recording of the mother’s line recorded. Next morning, Herschel Bernardi recorded the voice of Irving, six months ahead of his appearing on Broadway as Tevye in “Fiddler On The Roof”. With his warm, wonderful voice, Hesh milked the Schmaltz out of Irving's words.

When the spots hit Chicago Air, sales went through the roof. From #3 in sales, Mrs. Grass passed Lipton to become #1. Hygrade’s was ecstatic? Not!!! What we didn't know was they actually bought Mrs. Grass to be a tax loss against huge meat sales profits. Kill the spots. Do something not so good. We did, bringing in a famous comic. Instead of warm from the heart fuzzy, the spots were suddenly laugh funny. Sales fell immediately. Hygrade’s was happy and all was well with the world, except, I felt like an idiot. But my boss, so wise, handed me a check for $1000, saying, those were good words, great advertising. Keep it up.



I did, but from our Baltimore Office when the agency moved our family East, so I could to produce Baltimore baseball and football games. But more so because Baltimore accounts used a lot of music and needed a lyric writer.

My first effort was for Commercial Credit, sung by a young, studio guitar playing singer, one Glenn Campbell, a month before “By The Time I Get To Phoenix” hit. He sang the heck out of

“From here to Eternity, I bear the weight of three, wonderin, worrryin for my wife, my son and me. How to get out from under. How to break away. How to get out from under and begin a brand new day”.

An announcer added, Commercial Credit, that's what we're here for. To help you get out from under. Campbell closed it, echoing “and begin a brand new day”. That won an NAB first in category.

Typically, we recorded the music for our 6 beer brands in London to avoid U.S. residual payments. On one session, a Ringo starred on drums and a Clapton strummed guitar. One spot, a slow blues voiced by a male basso against broad organ chords, was:

“Sittin' on the front steps, just too hot to move. Sippin on a cold one, I've got nothing to prove. This is the life man, the way it is. What I got is mine, what he got is his.”

An announcer then voiced how our beer was part of way of life ... on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay.



So many challenges, so much fun with so many award rewards. But, 20 years of commercial hyphening and vagabonding about was enough, so moved the family, five of us by then to So. California. For the next two years I write and produced Educational Films, including work for the U. S. Office of Education, plus recruiting spots for the National Guard and U.S. Navy featured my song about Brandy, a girl on a distant shore, which, believe it, hit the charts in Denmark.

By then the Vietnam War had dried up Ed film funds, so it was back to Commercials. Part of a trio, we opened a Hollywood Animation, CGI and Special Effects House, where we competed for 8 years before being bought by a competitor. With more bodies in the combined shop, I could travel and began showing our Efx and CGI techniques internationally in Canada, South America, Mexico, Japan, Korea and England. Good billing followed and some neat stories for my current HUB “A La Carte” series. 


After fulfilling a three year contract and having had enough office politics, I opted out. What came next was a period of commuting to Mexico, where a growing reputation for delivering superior work garnered a number of top accounts and we made sufficient friendships to justify opening a Mexico City Office. Then, serendipity again. In my second year of commuting, a long time friend in the States opened the door to allow me to work as an independent hyphenate on Ford Motor’s business which lead to an 8 year involvement, eventually broadened to include work on commercials their Hertz division. Two years ago, at age 80, I took down my “Hyphenate” sign

Sadly today, few newcomers will ever know the privilege nor enjoy the challenge or have the fun I experienced along the way. © David Russell, 2009

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