Once upon a time, advertising agencies were just that: somewhere you went to get your advertising done. They were a one-stop. You got your advice on how to advertise your product. You got your copywriting, art direction and photography. You got your typography and printing. You got your TV and radio taken care of. They even bought your space in newspapers, magazines and on the networks. One stop, no probs, 15% commission.

Not any more. Advertising advice is no longer a heavily guarded secret. It is available just about anywhere; on the web; in books; from consultants, seminars, even from your own marketing director. Media buying now comes through specialized shops. Print you can get direct from the printer, and save money. TV you can shoot on your camcorder and place direct. Ads and logos, your kids can put together with Illustrator. As for those pesky fact sheets and brochures, why, there's a ton of freelance writers out there on the web.

In other words, advertising agencies no longer serve any useful purpose.

Yet they continue to exist, dinosaurs already fossilized.

Like latter-day Tyrannosaurus rex's, they lumber around, yelling nonsense like "brandmark!" "paradigm!" "synergy!" "customer centric!" win-win!" "marcom!" and "core competency!". They do this with such fervor that even they begin to believe their own horse feathers.

They've invented disciplines like strategy, branding, and convergence to give the illusion that they are relevant, that they still exist.

And you, the client, with competition going berserk, the dollar in the twilight zone and energy going bananas- you don't need that.

Ad agencies, it's business as usual. Top-heavy business as usual. More than in any other sector, the average ad agency carries a greater percentage of fat cats with fat salaries. Your creative director; your strategy director; your account director; your VP of this, that, and just about anything on the face of the earth. Fat cat payola, new Beemers every year, country club memberships, all in the name of growing your market share.

Which means, the moment you, the client, walk through your agency's door, you going to pay for those Beemers and country clubs, whether they have anything to do with growing your market share or not. Why, you'll probably never ever meet them.

You, the client, with competition going berserk, the dollar in the twilight zone and energy going bananas- you don't need that.

"Mister Schlomberger will be with you momentarily, sir/madam/whatever. Please take a seat." Schlomberger is your account guy, God reincarnated. You sit. You wait. You look around.

Cool, huh? A world away from your cruddy cubicle in the industrial park. You are sitting in a Marcel Breuer Wassily knockoff. Smells like real leather, not vinyl. That daub on the wall has to have cost a fortune, it's so awful. And the marble. Looks like real Carrera. Nice. You got Home Depot plastic in your bathroom. And the receptionist's monitor. I mean, wow.

You know, after you've contributed to the fat cat pay checks, you're also gonna pay for the marble, the Mac, and the artwork.

You, the client, with competition going berserk, the dollar in the twilight zone and energy going bananas- you don't need that.

The meeting starts. The agency people look relaxed, like someone else is paying their utilities. The usual PowerPoint. "The target: to grow your market share. Jesus. So that's why I'm here today- to grow my market share. Then they shill a glossy brochure, agency commission plus kickbacks. Ten thousand trees slaughtered, end up trashed or filed away, never to see the light of day. They shill a new logo. Totally unnecessary, and your kid could do it anyway, fraction of the price. They shill a micro-site, and a plethora of webmeisters and links that none of your customers could ever hope to navigate. They're having enough trouble working out your main site, as it is.

You, the client, with competition going berserk, the dollar in the twilight zone and energy going bananas- you don't need that.

And you notice something? Your agency is not stretching. They not really trying. Their propositions are kind of duuuh.

This is because they are scared shitless. Competition is cutthroat. It's sharksville out there. They know you have on your desk each morning a dozen or more propositions from other scared-shitless advertising agencies. They know they are holding onto your business by this much. So. It becomes a case of "what time would you like it to be?", or "watch carefully, I'm only going to do this once." You can bet your sweet ass they are not going to try anything out of the envelope with your business. Something that could grow your market share beyond your wildest dreams. Or, at least, your CEO's moderate dreams. No. Your agency, looking after their Beemers and country club subscriptions, are going to play it safe.

You, the client, with competition going berserk, the dollar in the twilight zone and energy going bananas- you don't need that.

The answer?

Dump the agency. Go personal. Hire people who will moonlight for you. Will push the envelope for you. Who will propose low-profit, high-yield solutions like text messaging, podcasting, and Internet advertising. Who will go the extra mile for you, because they don't have a top-heavy structure to pay for, and because they are not commission-driven.

In other words, get a partner, not a dinosaur.

David Lovattsmith has been around advertising for a long time. Despite this, he is no dinosaur.