Stan Freberg’s Poetry By the Bushel

Stan Freberg is among the reasons we know that those who feel God doesn’t have a sense of humor are just not paying enough attention.

  

Steve Roberts three eye glasses logo

My logo alone, much less everything else I’ve birthed that tickles me over the past 40 years, is a celebration of Stan Freberg’s place in my professional life as number one creative influence.  You’d need more fingers than the Mormon Tabernacle Choir to count those who, today, with reverence, with gratitude, and with a smile at a wacky memory, hold a similar sentiment in the wake of Stan’s recent earthly exit at age 88.  

“Playful, Loving & Deep” reads the banner that flies over the only tribe I’ve ever been interested in being a member of: crackpots who feel a duty to delight.  Stan Freberg’s work in advertising, just one manifestation of his multi-faceted genius, taught me that, while the tribe may be small, it did exist…and that he was one of its princes of light, although he preferred the title “guerrilla satirist.”

Of course, we didn’t need Mr. Freberg to tell us that most communication of any sort––ads, architecture, films, resumes, automobile design, sermons––fails to nurture a human being’s three vital organs: heart, mind, and funnybone.  But we needed him to remind us, to teach us, how full of fiercely intelligent, laugh-out-loud, smart-alecky, boundless love effective, cash-register-ringing communication could be. 

“If it ain’t a pleasure, it ain’t a poem,” wrote poet William Carlos Williams.   By that standard, the creative legacy of Stan Freberg is poetry by the bushel. 

Back and white photo of Stan Freberg

Stan Freberg is among the reasons we know that those who feel God doesn’t have a sense of humor are just not paying enough attention.

 

 

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