‘In the Michigan town where I was raised, you could hear the corn growing on hot nights. I snuck up on Chicago slowly, by way of outlying cities. When I finally got here I was 40 years old and confirmed in my colloquial ways. ‘People in my home town thought of Chicago as a kind of Rome to which all roads led – beckoning, majestic, maybe a touch or two wicked. ‘Unlike New York, however, which was a mythical place, Chicago was real. Everyone had an Uncle Charlie or Aunt Mabel living here, in Glen Ellyn or somewhere. Whether people approved of Chicago or not, it was “family”, rather like a son who had gone off and made good in an impressive but controversial way. So my little town had a proprietary feeling about Chicago, and when we rubes came flocking in from all quarters of the cornbelt, we recognized each other and knew we were home. ‘I guess what I’m getting at is that Chicago is the Midwest – the heart, soul, brains and bowels of it. Its ad-making ranks are filled with folks whose heads are stocked with prairie-town views and values. ‘Now I don’t intend to argue that Chicago is in any way a worthier city than, say, New York. But I am suggesting that our sod-busting delivery, our loose-limbed stand and our wide-eyed perspective make it easier for us to create ads that talk turkey to the majority of Americans – that’s all. ‘I like to think that we Chicago ad-makers are all working stiffs. I like to imagine that Chicago copywriters spit on their hands before picking up the big, black pencils. I like to think that the language of our ads has been ventilated in the fresh Chicago breezes and rinsed in the clear waters of Lake Michigan. ‘It seems to me that Chicago Advertising draws up a lot of nourishment from the richness of American folklore, restores it, and perpetuates it in a keen and lively sense. ‘I like to think that hereabouts a man can write ain’t into his copy