I don’t know how they found me. Here, between the silent waving pines and drifting snow, I’d retired to a life of peace and minimalism. No more guns. No more explosive- laden arrows. No more sweaty rampages through wave after wave of enemy foot soldiers. I’d found my sanctuary. My past only haunted my nightmares now.
I don’t know how they found me. But I should have expected it. The Agency has its ways.
As the black helicopter approached, I could clearly make out the “GCG Healthcare” logo on the tail. At touchdown, the General stepped off and walked stiffly toward me. A glare of contempt was all he offered before I was given my orders. I knew what he was here for before he even spoke the words. They were sending me back. Back to New York.
The 2009 Medical Marketing & Media Awards were held October 29 in Manhattan, and as Kalyn noted here, GCG Healthcare was a finalist in the Best Corporate Advertisement/Campaign category. Our Children’s Neuroblastoma Cancer Foundation campaign, which had previously garnered a Manny Award as well as several ADDY awards, was among five finalists. With other contenders in our category doing great work for Johnson & Johnson, Abbott Laboratories and other heavy hitters, we knew we had some stiff competition.
As I’d previously done with the Manny Award trip, I kept a log of the experience for posterity. Here are a few excerpts:
Thurs, 8:40 a.m.
Sitting on the tarmac at DFW with large storm approaching. A delay would set us back several hours, endangering our ability to make it to the awards gala on time. Sweat beads on my forehead as I anxiously glance from side to side, mumbling under my breath how I wish they would get us off the ground. Turns out, this is a great way to meet the Federal Air Marshal on the plane.
Thurs, 10:45 a.m.
Successfully departed before the storm reached the airport. Now cruising at 31,000 feet somewhere over Missouri. My beautiful wife, Elizabeth, who is accompanying me on the trip, points out the absurdity of SCUBA gear for cats in the SkyMall magazine. I smile, nod, and fretfully try to remember where I kept that receipt.
Thurs, 3:00 p.m.
Arrived at La Guardia in New York City and easily got a cab. About $45 and one hour later, I no longer fear death, for I have stared it in the face and handed it a 16% tip.
Thurs, 4:40 p.m.
Checked in to the hotel in midtown and started getting ready for the awards ceremony. The wife nixes my bolo tie and hands me the boring necktie she packed for me. She just doesn’t understand that New York is all about taking fashion risks and daring to look like an idiot.
Thurs, 6:20 p.m.
As we arrive at the MM&M awards ceremony, at Tavern on the Green in Central Park, I can’t help but reflect on the decades of history the building is steeped in. I mean, this is the exact place where Rick Moranis was caught by the demon dog thing in Ghostbusters. Elizabeth refuses to help me reenact the scene and instead pulls me inside. The cocktails and hors d’oeuvres are nice enough, I guess, but disappointment is all I can taste for the moment. That was, like, the best scene in the whole movie.
Thurs, 7:15 p.m.
After cocktails, we’re ushered into a huge tent for dinner and the awards ceremony. Over our meal, we chat with fellow tablemates and learn about the history and cultural diversity of Jersey, including the bloody Springsteen-Bon Jovi War of 1989.
Thurs, 8:40 p.m.
Our award category is next. I’m as excited as Ray Parker Jr. must have been when his song Ghostbusters was nominated for Best Original Song at the 57th Annual Academy Awards.
Thurs, 8:45 p.m.
Another win for GCG Healthcare! It is a great feeling to know that the agency’s work is being recognized on such a national stage. Thankfully, no acceptance speeches are allowed for this ceremony. While I wasn’t necessarily nervous about speaking in front of 700 people, I was dreading the obligatory Kanye West jokes I would have to write for this blog.
Fri, 8:30 a.m.
Like my last trip to NYC, the day after the ceremony will be packed with as much sightseeing as possible before heading back home. With a camera and a shiny, new MM&M award in tow, Elizabeth and I head out into the city. I’m looking forward to seeing all the varied styles of architecture in midtown Manhattan. Elizabeth is looking forward to seeing the architecture of various fitting rooms on Fifth Avenue.
Fri, 11:50 a.m.
St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Saks Fifth Ave. and Grand Central Station are all very impressive, but 30 Rockefeller Plaza isn’t nearly as funny as it is on TV. Looks fatter, too.
Fri, 1:15 p.m.
Finally arrive at the New York Public Library. This place is thick with Ghostbusters history and, sadly, uppity attitudes. They’re pretty insistent that they be known as a repository of knowledge rather than that cool place where the freaky librarian ghost lives.
Fri, 3:45 p.m.
Turned the corner at 42nd and Broadway and caught my first glimpse of Times Square. Immediately fell to the ground in a frothing seizure. Hit my head against a curb three times before Elizabeth was able to shove a pencil between my teeth to keep me from swallowing my tongue.
Fri, 3:50 p.m.
Here, amongst the acres of flashing obnoxiousness that is Times Square, I saw what unbridled advertising could do when unleashed upon a city. This is what happens when you “make the logo bigger.” This is why they called it the Manhattan Project. Such power used for evil. Dearest Oppenheimer, now I understand your lament, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.”
Fri, 4:10 p.m.
There is an Olive Garden restaurant here in Times Square. There are people eating the food inside. There are people eating Italian food in New York at an Olive Garden. In New York City. Olive Garden. A single tear rolls down my cheek.
Fri, 4:45 p.m.
We’ve escaped the tourist hoards and naked cowboys of Times Square and retreated to Central Park. The leaves are in perfect form, offering a wonderful contrast to the city surrounding us. I’d continue waxing poetic if the couple on the bench next to us wasn’t actively procreating. Have to leave now.
Fri, 5:50 p.m.
Leaving Central Park and heading back south. As we pass the glass cube Apple Store on 5th Avenue, we take a picture using my iPhone. Triple bonus points.
Fri, 6:30 p.m.
Arriving at the Museum of Modern Art, we navigate the crowds toward the first exhibit, Water Lilies by Monet. My inner art dork is in heaven. Fortunately, the majority of the crowd seems to be high-school-aged kids. Rather than crowding around the works of Rothko, Lichtenstein, Warhol and Pollock, they all swarm toward anything depicting nudity, giggling like…well, giggling a lot like I was. I really need to grow up.
Fri, 8:30 p.m.
Having gotten our fill of culture, we left the MoMA and set out in search of some good, authentic Italian food for dinner. Tucked away at the back of a long, narrow hall, we found a quaint eatery serving handmade New York-style pastas and calzones. As we ate, Elizabeth and I looked into each others eyes and lovingly shared just how absolutely terrible this food was. Seriously. Extraordinarily awful. Oh, how we wished we had gone to the Olive Garden.
Fri, 10:20 p.m.
Looking for a good bakery for a little dessert. Heck, even a convenience store roll of mints would do. Anything to get this taste out of our mouths. We settle on a little shop selling an assortment of pies and pastries. Cheesecake for the missus, cannoli for me.
Fri, 10:45 p.m.
Exhausted from the day, we head back toward our hotel. As we walk, we reminisce on all we’ve seen in the city. What struck us most was the truly amazing diversity…of smells. A veritable living tapestry of perfumes, garbage, stale water, Halal carts, manure, rust, fish, flowers and exhaust. Stenches from all walks of life coexisting as one in this urban symphony.
Sat, 6:30 a.m.
Packing our bags and hurrying out the door to catch our flight, we take one last look at the city. Once again, New York has given us something no other city could. Specifically, another freaking heavy award that airport security is going to give me hell about. Thanks a lot, Big Apple.
