ARVO, ARVO everywhere, but not a drop to drink

FROM THE VAULT: November 2, 2012

You didn't think a hurricane wrapped in a twister wrapped in a typhoon wrapped in an angry swarm of bees wrapped in a Frankenstorm was going to keep us from our CMG-given right of drinking free hootch on the company's dime, now did you?

Well, maybe just this one time.

After all, we are the nuclear wasteland cockroaches of the branding world, accustomed to surviving even the most dire circumstances. We've learned to adapt and thrive this past year without working bathrooms in the ladies room, HR or IT support, working corporate AMEX cards and sporadic Cheezit deliveries. So what if we don't have (a) an office, (b) power, (c) hot water, (d) transportation, (e) internet access, (f) gasoline, (g) clothing or (h) food, we still have the most important thing ­the only thing that really matters—and the reason why we're kicking ass through this minor inconvenience of an unprecedented natural disaster—we have each other.

All week long you've heard heartwarming tales of FutureBranders banding together, overcoming great physical and geographic challenges, to get the job done and keep our client and new business needs moving forward. Many of you have been kind enough to share photos of these meet-ups and how you're pitching in off-site…Š

Here's one of Doug, Malozzi and Felix at John's place in Fort Greene:

And here's another of Catherine, Mona and Camilla (with a scooter-powered Cockerille not pictured) working from a bunker deep inside CMG:

Scott Williams sent along this photo of himself and several freelancers he hired to help finish the Dow guidelines:

Frustrated by the grounded transit system, Holmfridur and her Icelandic friends are offering free rides across the Hudson:

Here's the sign Beth posted on her front door welcoming visitors to her recharging center:

Here's one of Daniel, heading into the office to check on his birds:

And finally, a shot of the kids in Mindy's neighborhood, wondering when the nice lady will be going back to work:

Fellow FutureBranders, though we cannot be together tonight, in your own way and your own watering hole, toast to a job extraordinarily ­ and collectively ­ well done. And since we can't properly celebrate Mark's birthday, crank up the sweet musical stylings of the Chili Peppers, crack open a cold Bud and raise your glass in the direction of Murray Hill. Since birth certificates from Newcastle can be a bit dodgy, we're really not quite sure how old Mark is today. He could be 43, he could be 37 or he could be a number somewhere in the middle. We'll never know for sure. But we do know he is one year closer to the big Aruban retirement home in the sky, where 1994 is always in fashion, rivers of beer run freely and God himself is a Toon Army fan.