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While at Salina Technical College, I was fortunate enough to be accepted to continue for a second year in the graphic design course. My first assignment was to illustrate a vintage car that was extremely tedious, using small brushes and a ruling pen. This was my first time painting in such detail, and I couldn't help but admire it. They had us illustrate in a paint that has some of the characteristics as tempera paint called gouache, which came in tubes, unlike the blue squeeze bottles of liquid tempera we used to use in elementary and high school during art class. ❦

My first job as a graphic designer was conveniently located in my hometown of Abilene, Kansas. The job was with Alco Duckwall, a discount store with 198 stores in 23 states. It centered around the Alco bi-monthly circular, with a fashion illustrator and me, the illustrator of everything else. That's all I did, every day, all day, illustrate black and white products for the circular. It was delivered to customers in and around each location as an insert in the town newspaper. ↓

The inside shows a sample of the “everything else” I mentioned previously. I illustrated radios, tools, stereos, furniture, and toys, to name a few. ❦

The Executive Marketing Director eventually gave me added responsibility to design the promotional signage for inside the Alco stores. The above exemplifies my extraordinary design abilities for an Alco poster and banner created with clip art (graphics clipped out of a book.) This was the beginning of my career, a time I like to call my DESIGN BLIND period! ↓

Tidbit: While working for Alco Duckwall, I went on a business trip with the Executive Marketing Director and Creative Director to Oklahoma City. We were taking the trip on an eight-passenger, twin-propeller plane. I was on a plane only once before, in the seventh grade. My dad knew a pilot and arranged for my brother and me to accompany him. My brother had fun, but I was a bit uptight because of my secret fear of heights, which I tried to hide. I enjoyed the experience, but at the same time, I was happy to touch down.

We boarded the plane at eight a.m. at the local Abilene airport, just outside town. I was nervous, not only because of the heights but also wondering what was in store for me on my first business trip. I knew just enough to be dangerous in the real advertising world. We got in our seats in that small flying coffin, and we were off to Oklahoma City. The flight was smooth and short. We arrived early because the pilot said we had a tailwind that day.

The meetings went well, and I didn't even get a chance to embarrass myself. Later that afternoon, we again boarded the plane to take the short flight back to Abilene. I was tired and ready to get home, but just as we reached our cruising altitude, we saw in front of us a vast expanse of isolated thunderheads extending as far as the eye could see. Immediately, the pilot’s voice came across the intercom and said we may have a rough ride home. I was thinking, "Oh great, my career could come to an abrupt end." The pilot began to thread the plane through the clear spaces between the thunderheads, trying to keep as far away from them as possible. As we flew between the first two clouds, the plane began to bounce lightly and shutter. I could feel my body tense up as my sweaty palms grasped the armrest. Suddenly, the first drop came out of nowhere, and we all glanced at each other, trying not to show fear. The further we went into this forest of thunderheads, the worse the bouncing and dropping became. We would sometimes drop hundreds or maybe even thousands of feet, I don't know, but it scared the hell out of me, and I'm sure the others, too! I could feel my stomach moving up toward my throat, and for a few seconds, when dropping, I felt weightless. I bet my hand impressions are still on the armrest of that plane. There was absolute silence on the plane. I could sense fear from the other two passengers as well, and I surmised they probably had never experienced turbulence to this magnitude before, but when they got off the plane, there was no mention of it. To this day, I have not encountered turbulence to that degree. ❦

These headers sat on top of the metal frames of the product price signs inside Alco. The artistic skill displayed here is absolutely stunning. NOT!

It's reassuring to know they are safely stored away for posterity at the local landfill. ❦

Tidbit: It was late at night in 1977, just outside my hometown of Abilene, on a curve of an old lonely highway sparsely lined with hedge trees. I had worked for only a few months at my first job as a graphic artist with Alco Duckwall discount stores when a car accident tragically ended two lives and profoundly affected the other.

On a Friday night with my 8-track blaring, I was driving my beloved green 1972 Chevy Nova, cruising up and down the two main drags, Buckeye and 3rd St, hoping to hook up with someone. This was the routine on weekends among Abilene's young people.

After completing a couple of courses, I pulled into the local Alco store parking lot that faced Buckeye, hoping to meet up with some chicks or one of my buddies to put down a couple of brewskis. It had been only a few minutes when two friends pulled up next to me and hollered over, “Hey, do you want to go with us to pick up some beer and cruise around?” “Hell yeah!” I said, so we bought some beer with their stereo cranked and began cruising the streets.

I had only known these two friends for a few years; Geno was from Galeton, Pennsylvania, and Nathan was from Bath, New York. A couple of hours had passed, it was getting late, and the cars were thinning out. Nathan was driving Geno’s car and decided to head out of town so we didn't have to worry about getting caught with open containers. At that time, the cops would only dump your open container on the ground, confiscate the rest of your beer, and tell you to go home. Geno’s car happened to be the same model and year as mine, except it was the sports edition called the Rally Nova with a larger engine and racing stripes. I was in the back seat, and we were heading east on old Highway 40 toward Champman, drinking beer and listening to 70s rock. We were about five miles out rounding a curve when I suddenly saw the headlights fixated on a single hedge tree. There wasn't much time to say or do anything except throw my arms in front of my face in a praying mantis-like fashion.

Upon impact, I felt like I was diving through the air in slow motion off the top board of the Abilene city pool. I was unconscious for a short while, and when I awoke, there was silence for a few minutes, then it was broken by screams and moans of pain coming from Nathan. I was in shock and didn't feel much of anything until they put me in the ambulance on the stretcher. My uncle Daryl, my dad's youngest brother, discovered us and told me through the back window to hold on; he would get help. Geno owner of the car, expired instantly, and Nathan the driver, died later at the hospital. I learned afterward the engine was partially in the front seat, and the speedometer had stuck at 110 mph on impact. See the newspaper article.

I was transferred from the Abilene hospital to Salina Saint John’s, hospital with multiple fractures, several broken teeth, and facial contusions. For most of my stay at the hospital, six weeks and two days, I was in traction. It was later expressed to me that they had been at a beer party earlier that night and were more than likely well on their way to being intoxicated before we even hooked up. I was eternally grateful to Alco Duckwall for their support and for allowing my employment to continue over several months of recovery. ❦

Good bye Alco!

Hello whatever comes next! ❦

An ABOMINATION! It's the worst ad ever created by a primate! This may be the first ad I designed in my professional career at The Professional Advertiser, also known as PA, in the late 70s in Topeka.

I think I was even proud! ↓

I designed this masterpiece long ago for Dale Sharp, and is now on permanent display at the prestigious Le Corndog Museum in Paris. Notice the date Jimmy Carter was president: there were no desktop computers, no smartphones, and gas was 86 cents a gallon.

Bitchin' car, though! ❦

I designed/illustrated this ad while I was with PA for one of our clients, Nelson’s Electronics Super Stores, in Topeka and Salina, Kansas. Nelson’s was one of our larger accounts at the time and utilized all media, but the primary advertising vehicle was the newspaper ads, which were my burden. The Sacrifices was a famous quarterly sales event in which Nelson’s products were substantially reduced in price. I was the lucky one designated to create the Sacrifices, a full-page newspaper ad with listings of electronic products.

The owner, Jim Nelson, was large in stature and had a strong personality with a deep, intimidating voice. In meetings, we couldn't help but be a bit on edge. He would lean back in his chair at the head of the long conference table with his giant arms crossed over his burly chest, looking like he wanted to disembowel each of us. His minions would sit on one side of the table while we sat on the other. If Jim disagreed with or didn't approve of something you said, he wouldn't hesitate to call you out and force you to explain yourself. Luckily, we survived all future meetings without sacrificing our bowels or ourselves! ❦

This is, quite possibly, my first brochure design while working for PA. Notice masterfully crafted drawing.

Kinda brings a tear to my eye. ❦

I designed and illustrated this beauty long ago, also at PA. Notice the sleek computer in the rendering.

The company claimed, “This incredible PC will make your work more efficient and has the amazing ability to grow your business.”

Sign me up! ❦

HomeStore was the local hardware store in Manhattan, Kansas. I designed and illustrated this promotional shopping bag in the early ’80s with “The Professional Advertiser.” This long-legged fellow sure looks dapper with his baggy pants and oversized clown shoes. ❦

"The Professional Advertiser is where my journey began with the same four people for over three decades, along with three agency name changes.

Tidbit: It was in the early to mid-80s when you could feel the tension in the office - the two owners' partnership had begun to fray. The founder of The Professional Advertiser started in Manhattan, Kansas, and shortly thereafter moved to Topeka. She was ambitious and dedicated to making the agency succeed. She worked long hours and wore many hats. The other partner, on the other hand, believed that hard work didn't pertain to him and that 8:00 to 5:00 was more than enough time to dedicate to the fledgling agency. He had to go! The only problem is he wouldn't, even when offered a generous buyout. So, the founder decided she would leave instead and create a new agency.

A few employees quit and went to work for her; even several accounts followed her to her new agency, Admark, Inc. She wanted us all but could not yet afford us, so we continued to work for the other partner, secretly knowing that when the time came, we would also leave The Professional Advertiser and go to work for Admark. To me, there was no question as to which partner I wanted to work for. I knew PA was doomed to fail because this partner didn't have the passion or mentality to run a successful business. Unfortunately, I was the artist who worked with his largest accounts, so he valued me and didn't want me to go with the other partner. He began to suspect my loyalty and surmised I might leave, too, so he started harassing me daily, trying to find out my intentions. He soon began calling me at home in the evening and even on weekends with bribes of significant salary increases. But I kept him guessing, not letting him know my true intentions because if he knew, he would fire me on the spot, and I would be without a paycheck. After several months, Admark was ready to take me and others in. Close to a year later, The Professional Advertiser closed its doors for good, and I opened a new one with Admark. ❦

Cover for Econo-Clad Books catalog, a national book company: The Egyptian burial chamber with a mummy reading an Econo-Clad book was my crazy concept, which implied that Econo-Clad books could last over 4,000 years - the time of the pyramids. The design turned out to be a big production for a client with a small budget. We built the sarcophagus, painted the hieroglyphs, and mummified a fellow employee. We did the photoshoot in the ruins of an old rock building west of town. This was my first experience at art directing a photo shoot. As you can tell by the props, we spared no expense! ❦

While with PA, I paraphrased Charleston Heston, who portrayed Moses in the movie "The Ten Commandments." Whenever I sensed skepticism aimed in my direction, I would let loose the phrase: "TEN TIMES you have seen the miracles of Larry Graham, and STILL, you do not BELIEVE!" The Pharaoh of Egypt, played by Yule Brener from the same movie, was another one I quoted when I felt strongly about my decision: "So let it be said! So let it be done! So let it be written!" I know I was mental! There was something about the film that stuck with me when I was a kid. My fellow artist found this drawing of Moses in a magazine and added the text with a picture of me at a costume party dressed as who else but Moses. When my therapist was informed about this behavior, he immediately demanded I be restrained and institutionalized. ❦

Tidbit: The Professional Advertiser's first office was on SW 29th Street, across from where I lived (Rain Tree Apartments in Topeka). I was one of only two artists with the fledging agency at the time. As artists, we wanted the creative department to look progressive, modern, and artsy. So we got fired up and designed a graphic of the word "Art" to be displayed on the creative department wall. It was in a classic 70s style, approximately 4ft by 3ft. We picked a three-day weekend so there would be plenty of time to complete the task. We used spray paint to blend the colors easily and masked off the graphic with tape. The immediate area was then covered with plastic trash bags, newspapers, and drop cloths.

We sprayed the wall graphic with red, orange, and yellow paint, blending the colors. We removed the mask once the paint had dried; it looked perfect! We then cleaned up, picking up all the newspapers and drop cloths. Just as we finished, the owner walked into the room. We were startled. We didn't know she was even in the office. She glanced at the graphic and said, "Why are my shoes sticking to the carpet?" We glanced at each other, then began explaining how we created the wall graphic and covered the carpet near the painting to protect it from the overspray. We admitted that the spray traveled further than expected, landing on the uncovered areas. We planned to get a carpet cleaner at the Dillons just down the street. Without saying a word, she then turned and walked out of the creative department every step, making a sticky carpet sound. It was apparent she was upset with us. We immediately hopped into the car to rent a heavy-duty carpet cleaner from Dillons. We were exhausted and still had several hours ahead of us cleaning the overspray off the carpet. We ran the machine over the sticky spots several times trying to get it to come clean. We knew our butts were on the line. Lucky for our jobs, it eventually came off! The owner later said she was impressed with the graphic and appreciated the effort we put in to make the agency look like a great place to work. ❦