As I snapped this smug shot of Sean in what is now his front yard yesterday, I couldn’t help but think about my own first piece of
The agency life that was McRae fit me like a pair of Kelly bootcut Citizens of Humanity jeans. Sure, the place had its quirks. I got stuck in the elevator. Twice. A walk from the creative lounge to account service saw a 15-degree dip in temperature. And I never did figure out what one particular colleague, armed with a briefcase full of cosmetics and hand towels, did in the bathroom from to every day. But, it also had its charm.
Aesthetically, the office had a killer view of
In early March, I sought the guidance of one of my favorite creative mentors for this year's St. Patrick’s Day card. Without skipping a beat, he was onboard, and the below masterpiece hit the Flynnbox the next day. That's McRaezy. More accurately, that's you, Bill.
Without further ado, in honor of St. Patty's—
the very day that answers The Killers' query "Are We Human, or Are We Dancer?"—let the day of the 24-hour, jig-ified disrumption begin with this, my parting e-gift from McRae.