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Being an artist, I found getting through undergraduate a bit easier than most of my fellow starving scholars. And that’s because I sold out. Big time. When the opportunity presented itself, I began freelancing at an ad agency in Fort Worth, Texas. I got to write copy for brochures and print campaigns, I composed jingles for TV and radio spots, and I designed logos. Lots and lots of logos. This was during the early to mid-1990s, mind you, and I still see some of those logos today — relics from a lifetime ago — still standing as it were. But the longevity of my designs from that era has everything to do with the individuals cracking the whip behind my desk chair. Perfectionists. Draconian, idealistic, 50 and 60-something perfectionists who dressed well and ate well. And they could drink. From nine in the morning to midnight and then repeat the next day. Work hard, play hard. That was the mantra.

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