Sal DeVito 1947 - 2024

I feel like I’m right back in Sal’s class. A bunch of incredibly talented people have already shared their beautifully written tributes and now I’m feeling the pressure to come up with something Sal would like. Just like it was back during that first semester in the DeVito/Verdi conference room.

The struggle was real. I thought I could impress him with headlines featuring highfalutin vocabulary, but his only response was “‘Opprobrious’? What the f*ck’s that mean?” I tried to channel that razor sharp, book-smart/street-smart, NYC f*ck you attitude that he pioneered, but I just came off like a kid from the suburbs desperately trying to be edgy. I put in every ounce of creative strength I could into each one of my creative at-bats, swinging for the fences on every pitch, but he simply handed my ads back to me and bluntly said, “Keep swingin’.” (which I guess was fairly tame compared to some of the horror stories we’d heard. It was pure luck that we caught Sal in the toned down twilight of his infamous apoplectic era)

But after weeks and weeks (probably months) of striking out, I finally managed to make a little contact. In retrospect, it was probably more like a foul tip, but he looked at me in a new way, with a wry little smirk, as if to say, “Hm..alright, muthaf*cka. Let’s play ball.”

Sal’s teaching method was, let’s just say, a little unorthodox, but in that brief little moment, he tacitly let me know I might have, as he called it, “The Force” (Side anecdote: I’ll never forget the time he was giving feedback to another student and the kid kept interrupting him and Sal eventually got fed up and said, “Just sit there, listen, and say, ‘Yes, Yoda.’” ??)

Some time later, Sal brought Lex Beltrone and me on as interns and had us try our hand at real assignments (while also running out to pick up his lunch at The Pump). It was around this time he called us into his office one afternoon and griped about paging us as “Alexei and Jay”. “It’s too long!”, he bristled, and he suggested shortening it to “Al Jay” Luckily, Lex quickly suggested an alternate, “JayLex” and it stuck right up there with the likes of “Bennifer” or “Brangelina”.

Then, the day after graduation, he invited us out for dinner at Barolo and a few minutes after they cleared away the plates, he slid our premade DeVito/Verdi business cards across the table and offered us a job. Both of our titles simply read, "AD GUY".

With Sal as our boss, we went on to sell our first ad, go on our first commercial shoot, win some awards (including a few corporate league indoor soccer championships), and become Sal’s special operatives for a very important secret mission.

Nearly everyday, right around 4pm, we’d get the call from ext. 235. Sal’s voice on the other end, speaking covertly under his cupped hand, “Fire the missiles” Code for: “Get downstairs NOW and grab my seat before the woman with the book shows up and takes it for herself. I need ASSES IN SEATS”

And so we’d take the elevator down to street level, storm the Mesa Grill bar and secure Sal’s preferred seat tucked away in that tight little corner. Sometime later, he’d come down and we’d relinquish his throne to him, as Billy the Bartender served him his Southside, and he prepared to hold court with whichever loyal subjects were joining him that evening. Sometimes he’d bring a sketchpad and draw out whatever brilliant idea or line he was trying to extract from his brain.

You might think we were just glorified seat fillers (like the people at the Oscars) but Sal pretty much always invited us to stick around and have a drink (or seven) with him. I always enjoyed copying his order and clinking our Southsides together ??

Those were some of my favorite times with Sal. Sure, the classroom is where he taught us the ways of The Force, but these silly seat securing missions was him inviting us into his inner circle. There were plenty of goodfellas in there, but this was our little piece of it. Our own special corner of Sal’s life.

And though it’s sad to know his seat is now empty, it was an honor and a privilege to have held it for him.

To the man, the myth, the legend, the teacher, the mentor, the sensei, the boss, the mad genius, the Jedi Master, the Godfather…

Here’s lookin’ at you, Sally Boy ????

Rest in peace ??