I am an easy man to befuddle.
About ten thousand years ago I slugged out production design in an advertising agency that, at the time, confused my soft brain at every turn. This particular collection of memories sits around my mid-twenties, the agency itself my second or third hop in the industry.
The place was set up in that weird post-90’s way that attempted a callback to the Mad Men era that never really cascaded over the midwest like you’d picture, yet every Boomer in a leadership position with a hard-on for denim jumpsuits and day-drinking ensured their version had brick walls, a kitschy set of values, and only implied that there was coke dust in the ventilation. …