Howard Luck Gossage was an inspiring man. A rogue gentleman who plied his trade in the City by the Bay. An academic who taught advertising at Penn State and wrote eloquently about the advertising business. A man who saw himself as a critic and reformer. A man of the people. A man with big ideas for the brands is his charge. His agency was in a restored firehouse, with characters like Marshall McCluhan and Tom Wolfe dropping by for an afternoon chat and tea. He was also a man of outrageous, but dead-on statements, like this one:
“Is advertising worth saving? From an economic point of view, I don’t think that most of it is. From an aesthetic point of view, I’m damn sure it’s not; it’s thoughtless, boring, and there is simply too much of it.”