Camel

It is a long time ago now and I can't remember the exact year but it was in the early nineties. At that time, yet another bandwagon rolled into the educational landscape. This time the driving notion was that secondary school teachers knew zilch about the commercial world. By allowing them to spend a little time in industry or commerce, they would be able to return to their schools better able to advise children on working life beyond the school gates.

I believe that the initiative was called Teachers into Industry (TiI) and for a brief spell it received substantial government funding. I jumped at the chance and was able to specify that I wanted to experience work in the advertising industry.

Of course the beating heart of all advertising in Great Britain is London but some advertising agencies do and did exist in other parts of the country. Unbeknown to me, Sheffield was home to a thriving little business called Camel Advertising. They were housed in a big stone house on Queens Road.

I worked there for two weeks and enjoyed every minute. There were no switched off children in sight and every member of the thirty strong team was pulling in the same direction - keeping the company above water and spreading its tentacles into new fields. There was a real buzz about the place. It felt like being a bee in a productive hive.

Outside in the car park, leading members of the team parked their shiny new cars. There was a yellow Ferrari and a silver Jaguar. Camel Advertising was proud and profitable and what I liked best is that it was a hotbed of creativity. There were graphic designers, a photographer and a creative director. They had begun to specialise in promoting computer games.

In the late 1970s I had investigated a potential alternative career in advertising and even sent out speculative letters. Camel was all that I hoped an advertising agency might be and I know this might sound stupid but in my two weeks with them, I sought to make a good impression partly because in the part of my brain marked "Fantasy", I was hoping they would offer me a job. 

Then I would be able to get off the treadmill of secondary school teaching and leave behind all the pettiness of school politics and recalcitrant kids who were resistant to education. Drawn from a large neighbourhood of social housing, there were many such pupils. Sometimes it could feel as though you were banging your head against a brick wall. Couldn't I use my energy and natural abilities in a more positive, creative workplace?

Anyway, my ploy did not work but they liked me right enough. I even appeared in our local newspaper "The Sheffield Star" as the project was deemed newsworthy and it reflected well upon Camel.

Amongst other tasks, I wrote the copy for a few double-page magazine spreads, including two computer gambling games called "Casino" and "The Big Deal" - "Enough to get Cool Hand Luke hot under the collar".

On the afternoon I left Camel, they presented me with a framed version of that very advertisement. On the back was a label that read: "To Neil - from your friends in The Camel Group". I received it gratefully but it was not quite as good as being offered a career switch.

Anyway, all of this came to mind when we recently disposed of a bunch of framed pictures that had been residing in our dark underhouse area. And now Cool Hand Luke has got to go too. After all, you cannot hang on to everything  - even pipe dreams from long ago. At least I will have the memory - here in this blogpost.

The building on Queens Road that was once home 

to Camel Advertising - now sadly demolished