I was leaving to buy a keg for a party in the mountains outside Missoula when the phone rang. I picked it up in a hurry. A woman asked if I had recently applied for a job with a radio station in Whitefish.
“Uh, yeah, did I get the job?” I replied, anxious to move the conversation along.
“Not yet. Are you available for an interview?” I wondered if she was in town and wanted to meet right then.
“Not for the next 24 hours,” I said. "To be honest, I'm on my way to buy beer for a party in the mountains."
“I meant next week," she said. She no doubt heard me hit myself in the head with the phone. Well, I blew that I thought.
But I was wrong. I somehow landed the job and showed up for work two weeks later, shaven and sober. After a couple years punching out radio copy on a Smith Corona and doing odd jobs like radio play-by-play for donkey basketball games I headed west.
Eventually, I ended up in Portland where I caught on with a series of ad agencies. I got into everything: print ads, brochures, radio and TV spots, creative disputes… Many words were exchanged. Nobody got hurt.
One day in the shower a hair circled the drain and it dawned on me. I should use my head and get off this manic ad agency merry-go-round. Go to work for myself and provide creative help to anyone with a good company or cause.
That day Les Overhead was born. Freelance Creative Director/Copywriter. A man of his word