aboutus
There is no us. Just me. But this is what Wix had as a template for this section, and why mess with a good thing? Am I right? Check out the split-color headline. "About" is in white, while the "Us" is in like a charcoal, I'd say. Or like a deep forest green. Neat.
Speaking of green, at one time, I only worked on green brands. CenturyLink. Angie's List. And Fidelity. Isn't that funny? Then I worked on Progressive. But Progressive is blue. And white. And orange, now that I think of it.
Do you know that funny commercial where the young adults turn into their parents? Haha. Yes, of course. Those really are so relatable. And funny. Well, I didn't make those. My friends did. My idea was the one the client didn't pick. And for the last few years, I've been reminded of that decision every 15 minutes. Lastly, that is not a photo of me. I took that of my daughter riding her bike.
Ok, here goes.
I'm probably in the top 10 creative directors to ever come out of historical
Quincy, MA. Maybe top 25. Top 50, at least. I mean, he's pretty good, I think. And by he, I mean me. Matt McGowan. A creative director. Hello.
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Meth or Advertising
I lived on a porch. They called it a lanai in Hawaii, which sounds lovely, but it was still a porch. I was a licensed bus driver in Colorado—like a city bus with actual passengers. I've been carjacked. I was a taxi dispatcher at Logan Airport. I've worked in flea bag bars and Five Diamond resorts as a busboy, dishwasher, line cook, hostess (the emphasis on ess is mine,) waiter, and bartender. I've served garbage men, Fortune 500 CEOs, professional athletes, and celebrities—most notably MacGyver. My father taught me how to sneak into movies when I was a kid. In 1984, we saw Friday the 13th IV in the theatre. I was nine. I worked on big union construction sites as a non-union member and never once had a wrench thrown at me. I walked the red carpet at the critically acclaimed High School Musical 3: Senior Year premiere and sat next to Mickey Dolenz, but more importantly, in front of Barry Bonds. I've driven cross country by myself twice and was detained at the Canadian border in British Columbia once. I was jumped by a pack of teenagers in Quincy Center. I was once described as the husky smart aleck in a police report. Until I lost my wallet, my fake ID was a Mookie Wilson rookie card. I have a dog named Scraps because I was obsessed with the Airplane movies. I also lived in a bathroom because I liked the location.
Yes, the toilet worked.
All of this has served me well in life, and especially in my career.
I didn't go to ad school. I didn't even go to art school until I was already working in advertising. In fact, I wasn't enrolled in the prestigious day school at MassArt, but instead the night program which required considerably lower qualifications. Mainly money. Which I had.
Barely.
So they kept me around even though I sucked. Eventually, I went from sucking out loud to just being really bad. I worked my ass off, and soon became bad. My professors tore into me and my middling work. They questioned if I was in the right field. And they were correct for doing so. But I kept coming back, and six years later when I finished the 3 year program I knew a thing or two about the fundamentals of design. I was better. I wasn't good, but I was better.
But before we all start chanting, Rudy! about my courageous path to mediocrity at this point in my career, I'd like to mention that I've always been this way.
When you begin a professional career in your late 20s, there's some catching up to do. I certainly wasn't the most talented guy in the agency, but I knew that nobody could out-hustle me. I subscribed to the Ugly Guy at Last Call doctrine and never turned away an opportunity. I took any project that came down the pike—even the ugly ones. Especially the ugly ones. Soon, I was known as the reliable slut who would work nights and weekends. Sure, I was being taken advantage of, but I knew that this was my only hope of crawling out of the Digital Ghetto. Bring it on. I was thrown on pitches, emergencies, and brands that nobody wanted to touch.
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Because of the long hours, my career should be measured in dog years. They are dense. Packed with horrible ideas that were horribly executed. I learned from all of them. I honed my craft. I emulated people who were good and ignored the hacks.
Eventually, the ratio flipped, and I got the chance to work on better brands and better projects. While I've come a long way, I'm still chasing the dragon and want more.
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I want to be surrounded by the best in the business. I'm not afraid to look or sound foolish—obviously—but I'm deadly serious when it comes to my work. I love this stupid industry.
Everything else should fall into place.
What success looks like.
This is what the kids call a CV.
Which is French for Curriculum Vitae.
2021-Present
Executive Director of Marketing
Quincy College
I decided to trade in my jeans for pleated khakis and became a suit. This position taught me a lot about being a better creative, and as such, I've made amends with most of my Account Directors in the form of a handwritten note and/or an edible arrangement. I'm sorry; I had no idea what you/we did.
2017-2021
Executive Creative Director
Zozimus (Don't ask)
I got the chance to run the creative department at a small agency with one of my friends. I loved the idea of working at a small and nimble agency compared to a behemoth global conglomerate. Learned how to run a business and managed the department's P&L which up until that point, I thought was a real estate term.
2014-2017
Associate Creative Director
Arnold Worldwide
How many hours in the day? 27, it turns out. Finally made it to the big leagues and created some of my best work. I was surrounded by insanely talented people and loved the experience as a whole. It was just an unsustainable lifestyle, and I decided to remain married and be a part of my kid's life. It was a great decision.
2011-2014
Associate Creative Director
SapientNitro
This place, for a moment in time, had some really incredible people. What I loved most about my tenure there was how technology and creative were connected at the hip. There was always some really smart person in the room who would see a complex problem as a challenge and say the sweet, sweet words: I think we can build that.
2007-2011
Senior Art Director
DigitasLBi
Not a place known for its creativity, but boy, this was a fun place to work at for a spell. I was part of The Powerhouse, which was a small group within the creative department—a band of brothers and sisters who loved to tinker with new things. We were dorks, ok. There I said it, but it was a blast, and despite the smarts and creative talent, we could never fully realize our potential, which was sad, and the main reason I left.
2005-2007
Production Designer
Mullen
I loved Mullen. I hated the commute from North Quincy to Wenham, which is on the border of Maine, I think. This is where I caught the advertising bug and realized this is what I wanted to do with my life. I probably should have stayed here, but Digitas dangled that cheddar at me, and I jumped at that 48k. And really, who could blame me? It's not everyday that a person gets an offer on a rocket ship to wealth.
2002-2005
Just a Bum
Freelance/Vagrant
What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, I've heard. I was living in a "garden level" apartment in an alleyway in Kenmore Square with raccoon-sized rats and a kid I grew up with named Burkie—who once took a quick dip in the penguin tank at the New England Aquarium. I eeked out a living with miscellaneous freelance gigs, house painting, and credit card debt.
2001-2002
Surf Bum
Maui, Hawaii
After 9/11, I re-connected with my roommate in Colorado, who was now living in Maui. I slept on his couch along with 8 other dudes. We had like 38 surfboards at the house. I worked at the Ritz Carlton, slinging Pina Coladas and Mai Tais at the pool bar. I eventually upgraded my digs and moved in with the real-life Spicoli, who generously offered me his lanai as my bedroom.
2000-2001
Multimedia Designer
LuxorMedia
I landed my dream job, allowing me to experience air-conditioned office space in a suburban office park. I animated corporate videos in Macromedia Flash. Yeah, boi. Macromedia. I was responsible for such epic tales as "How to Fill out your Timesheets" and "Filling out Your Expense Reports Properly." Then my boss laid me off on September 12, 2001. What a peach.
1997-2000
Ski Bum
Vail, Colorado
Heavily influenced by Warren Miller films and Hot Dog: The Movie I bought a van and moved west to Colorado. I was a long way from the Blue Hills Ski Area and finally stood on the peaks of mountains I had only seen in magazines and movies. I worked miscellaneous jobs in the Vail Valley to support my obsession with snowboarding deep freshy pow pow, brah.