Ah, the epic saga of ham sandwiches—a tale where a minor work crisis transforms into an unexpectedly hilarious life episode. Though I’ve long lost track of the exact year, the memory remains vivid. Picture this: I was freelancing for a global agency in town and I’d been slaving away on a Sara Lee Deli Meats project for weeks, only to have the grandiose Group Creative Director (GCD) decide that we needed a creative twist. And what better twist than crafting an entire booklet of sandwich recipes?
Now, I get it—creative teams are expected to juggle a lot of tasks. Tossing together some sandwich recipes so the client “gets it” didn’t seem like a Herculean feat. However, our GCD had a boner for this idea. He envisioned a legendary booklet, not just a collection of recipes, but a revolutionary digital download segmented into roast beef, turkey, chicken, salami, and—drumroll please—ham sandwiches. He was convinced that this was a groundbreaking concept, a veritable Holy Grail of marketing—never had a brand dared to compile such a booklet!
Despite my protest that Sara Lee likely employed a degreed culinary squad specializing in this very type of thing, my words fell on deaf ears. The GCD was on a mission to make his mark. A few weeks later, during a two-hour internal conference call—where I was dialing in from my upstairs office in Wilmette—things took a turn for the chaotic. As we dove into the ham sandwich section of the booklet, there was a relentless pounding from above. It grew so loud and noticeable that I had to interrupt the call, exclaiming, “Sorry, but something's going on upstairs, and I need to check it out.”
My teammates were fine with it, but the GCD grumbled about the interruption muttering about ham sandwiches. I hung up and dashed out of my office, flung open the door to the 3rd floor and barely had time to shout, “Everything okay up there?” before my wife’s distressed voice came through: “Call 911 now!”
In a frantic scramble, I managed to get the paramedics to my house. They whisked my wife away to Evanston Hospital. I hastily followed the ambulance and briefly rejoined the call to inform everyone I couldn’t continue. My team was understanding, but the GCD was pissed. As he ranted about the critical importance of ham sandwich recipes, I couldn’t help but think, “What in the fuck am I doing?” I cut him off, saying, “I gotta go! I’ll check in when I can.” The last thing I heard was the GCD losing his mind: “Goddammit Marran! We’re almost done! Ham Matters!”
As it turned out, my wife was suffering from severe kidney stones. A few weeks later, recounting this debacle over beers with fellow freelancers, my friend Ed suggested that “Ham Matters” would be a perfect title for my autobiography.
And so when I decided to start this blog, “Ham Matters” seemed like the ideal title. It captures the essence of life’s absurdities and the moments when something as trivial as ham sandwiches can turn into a laugh-out-loud, life-affirming story. Feel free to leave your comments and share your own “Ham Matters” moments!
By the way, when we presented the sandwich recipe booklet, the Sara Lee client said. “I appreciate the recipe ideas, but we’ll have our culinary team develop the booklet.” So, in the end, ham didn’t matter.
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