About

Like a lot of people, I got into advertising by accident. A friend’s mom, whose husband was CEO of a small, local agency in Utah you’ve never heard of, asked me one day, nonchalantly, “Hey Gage, you’re kind of funny, want to be in advertising?” And I’ve been “kind of funny” for brands ever since. At least, I tried to be, though I quickly realized that “funny,” “kind of” or otherwise, was not what the vast majority of brands were looking for—or, as I would learn, what made sense for them. So I spent much of my first few years desperately trying to convince healthcare providers to do essentially Saturday Night Live skits. It didn’t go great.But it led to an epiphany, one I’m still having, bit by bit, nearly 30 years later, about what makes advertising different, special, and a truly unique art form. It’s a cliché, but in advertising you aren’t just doing whatever you think is cool, or funny, or beautiful. You are solving a problem. A problem with a specific set of variables. What’s right for one product or brand can be catastrophically wrong for another. And despite it being a cliché, most people in this business don’t really take it to heart, or even much believe it. I have. And I do. As a result, I’ve spent nearly 30 years solving problems, figuring out the equation, building brands, coming up with ideas, and collaborating with brilliant people to create some pretty cool things. Plenty of it is more likely to make you cry than laugh. But again, that’s what I’ve discovered makes advertising what it is. When I’m not writing ads, I paint, sculpt, write things that aren’t ads (including a musical), and spend as much time as possible with Becca (my sometimes creative partner), our two boys Q (17) and Dizzy (14), and our dogs Foxy and Raptor.