The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

For those who don’t know what Gaviscon is, it’s a treatment for heartburn.

Right, with that, get your eyes around this …

What a nice final super …

“It’s like a fireman came in your mouth”

So does that mean Gaviscon tastes salty? Actually lets stop this talk right here …

Look, I don’t know if this is genuine – so if Gaviscon’s lawyers are reading this and want to sue – may I suggest you aim your legal guns at Andy, because not only was he the person who sent it to me, he was chuckling like a hyena on laughing gas.

Apparently the innuendo occurred because the copywriter behind the ad has English as his/her 2nd language.

I was so alarmed at this behaviour that I set up a blog and asked for your thoughts.

The effect of all this unwanted attention was that Freddie stepped back from the edge of the marmite motorway and normal family life prevailed.

Whilst this news was of great relief to his family, my almost-a-cliché gay mate Dean was devastated, as he’d had his eye on our Swedish lovely for quite a while … and while his spirits soared when I posted this photo of Fred …

… he was to end up disappointed once more when he found out the snaps were simply Fred at the TBWA Christmas party.

Now I find the whole ‘hidden homosexual’ thing quite interesting.

Not in a schoolboy snigger kind of way, but from a human interest perspective – because I can’t imagine how hard it must be to feel one way and act another.

Yeah … yeah … in some ways, we all have a false/aspired image we try and keep up, but this isn’t about some pathetic ‘status’ goal, this is something far deeper and emotional.

The reason I bring this up is that I think I may have found a person I can ask about this … and it’s no other than my oldest and best friend, Paul.

As I’ve said before, I’ve known this man all my life.

We have been through all our life’s highs and lows together and he is the closest thing to a brother I have.

I used to even joke that if he was an attractive woman, I’d of married him … but something has come to light that makes me believe there’s the possibility he would of wanted to marry me just as I am.

Yes I know he’s very happily married to a bloody wonderful woman …

Yes I know when he was about 14 years of age he’d occasionally risk everything and go into the one-eyed [that’s not a euphemism] newsagent opposite Nottingham’s main Police Station to buy the latest copy of ‘Razzle’

[Sidestory: Once, after buying a copy, Paul was waiting at the bus stop to go home. For some reason, the magazine fell out of the brown paper bag he was clutching with all his might and landed with an unceremonious splat on the pavement. To make matters worse, it had somehow opened up to reveal the ‘centre fold’ in all its gynaecological glory. Of course I burst out in hysterical laugher which drew the attention from the fellow bus passengers which resulted in them starring at the magazine … then at Paul … then the magazine … then at Paul until the bright red fool managed to bend down, pick it up and stuff it in his jacket. The icing on the cake – for me at least – was that one of the people who saw this sad little perv was a woman who worked as a waitress at the restaurant I was a pot-washer at. Paul stopped popping in to see me for about 6 months. Hahaha!]

Yes I know he’s too ugly and unfashionable to be gay …

Yes I know he’s about as sensitive as an Australian male …

… but something tells me that despite all this, he’s hiding something – not just from me, but possibly from himself.

To be honest I had my suspicions when he decided to get a Superman tattoo even though it was a well known subliminal emblem for homosexuality.

He claimed he got it because Jon Bon Jovi had one – which I admit, threw me off the scent for a bit – though now, 20 years later, I realise that was possibly his first attempt at broaching the subject with me.

Of course I could be wrong … maybe all this behaviour is not a cry for help … so to ensure I don’t upset him and ruin 38 years of friendship, could you have a look at the evidence I’ve compiled and tell me, IS PAUL SECRETLY GAY?

Aged 3 or 4 … and he’s wearing a tie!!!

The heavy rock phase. Or the ‘look-like-a-woman’ phase!!!

Experimenting with ‘high-camp’ photo poses.

Dear God, what was he thinking?

The closet doors finally open?

I must of re-written the thing literally about 20 times, and yet on each occasion, I’ve never been able to capture exactly what I am trying to express.

To be honest, my writing ability has never been that good.

When I read how Marcus or Fred or Age or Kaj express themselves, I just put my head in my hands – they’re bloody brilliant – however I know I will never be like them, so even though I’m not happy with what I’ve written, this will just have to do.

In short, I think I am married to the best wife in the whole, wide World.

I’m not saying this because she occasionally reads this blog or because she lets me do stupid things to her [ie: The Jillyism blog or writing messages on her head when she’s asleep like the one above which reads “I LUV SATAN”] … I’m saying it because in the 5 years she’s been in my life, she’s demonstrated a level of loyalty and faith that takes my breath away.

I know marriage is about ‘for better or worse’ but I would assume most people go into the ultimate commitment with the expectation that neither party will be a total fuckwit and yet in our marriage, I can’t help but feel I’ve let her down on this assumption.

Of course I could argue the clues were there from the beginning …

Let’s face it, when you’re dragged to Asia within weeks of meeting and made to spend your Boxing Day watching Nottingham Forest in the freezing cold before being taken to my beloved Shalamar Restaurant in West Bridgford for a dodgy curry … you should know you’re getting involved with someone rather sad, but despite that, I still think she deserves better.

I know she knows I love her ridiculously … not just because I tell her every day, but because of a whole bunch of other things, things that are actually quite small but mean a great deal to her … however the fact is I still travel too much, I still let work creep into our personal life and I still get grumpy when I’m tired [which is approx 89.6% of the time] yet despite this, she’s always there for me, offering advice, encouragement and support with her beautiful smile and her infectious laugh.

How the hell did I get so lucky?

OK, a trip to Graceland and a cat probably helped but when you consider the circumstances I’ve put her in – especially in the last 12 months – she has gone beyond the call of duty.

Someone recently asked me what was one of the biggest challenges in being married.

Well maybe it’s because I am an only child … but for me, it’s the fact I have someone who actually wants to take away my problems … wants to help … wants us to move forward together.

That’s not saying my parents weren’t like that – they were, as was the odd previous girlfriend – but Jill does it in a way that makes me feel like I can achieve more and do it in a better way. In short, she makes me a better man.

I know this post probably doesn’t make much sense – and I appreciate it’s unbelievably indulgent [and possibly sickening] – but I wanted to write something because even though I try and always tell her how I’ve noticed the things she’s done for me/us, it’s important she understands how much I appreciate it and what it means to me.

Thank you wifey … you’re the best.

Whilst you’d think Mexico is probably the hottest bed of press activity, I’d say HK and Singapore would give them a good run for their money.

It all stems back to the SARS crisis a few years ago and how it adversely affected the respective countries reputation both economically and organisationally … which is possibly why their reaction to the situation has been slightly over-the-top to say the least.

Just last week I had a pitch in HK where the client wore a surgical mask throughout the entire presentation.

You try and pay attention to what’s going on when you’ve got Dr Dick Turpin’s eyes staring right back at you.

Seriously, everytime he asked a question I must of said, “I beg your pardon” about 500 times … it was ridiculous.

But as usual, Singapore could trump it.

Despite there being NO confirmed swine flu cases when I was there, I was still asked to provide written evidence of my last 7 days travels before I would be allowed into my meeting … a meeting I had been asked to attend by a client and had to fly over 3 hours to get there.

When the receptionist saw I had previously been in China and HK there was almost a stampede to the bloody Doctors …

Now don’t get me wrong, I know how serious this ‘flu’ can be … but this all seems abit of an overkill … but then, compared to the Singaporean Uni that has MANDATED all students have to take their temperature twice a day and record the results on an electronic database [worse: they all have to have their own thermometer and if they cannot provide it when asked by a teacher, they will get sent home] I suppose I got off lightly.

I guess advertising strategy is quite like Government attitude in so much as both seem to follow the belief that a public in panic is a public you can control and manipulate …

Buy this and be successful with the opposite sex.

Invest in that and you’ll be successful and a pillar of society.

Of course it doesn’t have to be this way.

One thing I still find amazing is that even now, some people talk about Obama’s ‘media election strategy’ as if that was the only reason he became President.

Of course it played an important part, but like many in media planning companies forget, what you say and how you say it is just as important.

Obama could of gone with political cliché and focused on fear … hell, he’d of been justified given the state the World was/is in right now … but instead he offered an alternative to ‘fear control’, he offered people the power of hope so that regardless of race, sex, age, wealth or culture, they could believe that together they could create a better life for themselves, their communities and their country.

Yeah … yeah … I know he’s actually got to do it rather than just talk about it and without doubt, it’s going to be tough given the pedestal people have put him on – but he’s making some of the tough decisions … he’s talked about how it will probably get worse before it gets better … he talked about the need to think interms of ‘we’ not just ‘me’ … he’s acknowledged the need to talk ‘future’ not just today … and whilst anyone could say they are easy words and an obvious strategy for a country that was/is on its knees, you think how many brands or Governments talk in those terms, or at least talk about it without sounding contrived or worse, unbelievably delusional.

NEW SUNNY DISHWASH FLUID MAKES ALL YOUR DAYS SMELL BRIGHT.

Give me a fucking break.

My pension plan!

As much as I wish the days of false promises in advertising were over … I genuinely believe we are heading to a period where brands are starting to appreciate the importance of creating proof rather than creating ads … and whilst ‘fear’ may seem the most effective method to drive action, if companies and Governments started to look beyond the next quarter or local election, they may see they are capable of amazing things and that people may actually want to help them in their goals.

I’ve said it many times that adland should be more like the manufacturing industry – CREATE stuff, of which ‘ads’ are just a part – but for all the rhetoric spouted by multinational agencies and clients about wanting to do ‘new things’, the reality is still they remain firmly entrenched in doing what they know rather than embrace what they know but just can’t fathom how to do.

One of the best lines I’ve ever heard to get these sort of people to starting acting rather than just talking is simply: “What do you want your legacy to be?” … and whilst I accept that’s unlikely to change their decades of inaction, I doubt they would answer “I helped increase Pantene’s gain 2 percentage points of marketshare over the 07-08 financial period” and if they did, then we should do them – and us a favour – by shooting them dead in the head.