As for slamming doors, Creativity is put together in a sea of cubicles, a sprawling workspace fondly referred to around here as Dilbertland. However, management, realizing the importance of installing the latest in stress-relieving devices, has thoughtfully provided doors on the bathroom stalls, and I've slammed those in my rare moments of angst and frustration. (Hence the new washroom sign, "Employees must bandage hands before returning to work.")
In retrospect, it really wasn't necessary to wake up screaming every night during the weeks after I'd been hired but before I started the job. For starters, my predecessor, Anthony Vagnoni, provided enough gentle handholding to make Florence Nightingale seem like a crabby tyrant. Then there were the many people who called to wish me well, and to kindly assure me they think I'll do a splendid job-when they weren't too busy telling me about Anthony's astronomical shoesize (as in, "Whoa, you've got some big shoes to fill, buddy").
Yeah, I've had a Maalox moment or two. But in all, I'm really thrilled to be here. I've already made some important changes that have amazed and inspired people in this company, judging from exclamations like: "Wow, you got yourself a new desklamp?"
Another good thing about my new job-and I'm serious here for a change-is being able to bask in the positive feelings that Creativity engenders in the advertising community. As far as people in the business are concerned-many of whom I know, more of whom I've yet to meet-this magazine can seem to do little wrong. So I'm making a promise that Creativity is not going to go through exceedingly radical changes. But we're not going to rest on our laurels either.
How will we find the comfortable middle ground between revolution and evolution? Here's a brilliant thought: tell us what you want. I'm at firstname.lastname@example.org (plain text only, no attachments), or you can send regular mail to 220 East 42nd Street, 9th floor, New York, NY 10017. Then again, you could call (212) 210-0280