Hello LaLaLand …

For reasons even America doesn’t deserve, I’m going to be in Los Angeles – and SF – next week.
And while I’m supposedly there for working reasons [with he common thread being the letter M] – that’s not why there’ll be no posts until I return. Nor is it because I’ll be catching up with old friends or buying the latest Apple gear because I can’t be arsed to wait till it gets to NZ.
OK, there is an element of truth in that …
But the real reason is because I’ll be trying to work through the menu of my favourite restaurant there in the whole wide world.
The Cheesecake Factory.
A restaurant with a menu that is thicker than the bible and tastes that belong in the 1980’s.
Apart from Sammy’s [RIP] in Manhattan Beach that we would go to every Friday night … the Cheesecake Factory was THE restaurant for me.
Yes there’s your In & Out Burgers and your Taco/Tacky Bell … but nothing could beat the bad taste of a good meal at the Cheesecake Factory.
Though – ironically – I never did eat any of their cheesecakes.

It’s going to be weird going back to LA.
Yes, I popped in on my way to see Forest in the premiership final.
And yes, I went there when we were living in England – pre-pandemic.
But while my time in LA was not my favourite time of my life or career, there were a lot of brilliant friends I made and experiences I had – even the weird ones – which means I’m quite excited to be going over and reconnect to the things that made a lasting impression on me and the people who changed my life.
So I’ll see you when I’m back. Possibly having had a heart by-pass. Either way, if you’re in LA and want to catch up, you know where to find me.
See you in 10 days or so.
Be Metallica, Not The Eagles …
September 22, 2022, 8:15 am
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15

I was recently in a client meeting where we had a discussion about ‘scale’.
The person in question was suggesting – as many do – that the only way to achieve it was to make sure you offer something for everyone.
Now there’s two ways you can do that …
Literally offer something for everyone or be so bland that you don’t alienate anyone.
And when we had this discussion, it reminded me of the Ferdinand Porsche quote that – paraphrased – reads something like:
“Be everything to someone not something to everyone”.
But it was early in the morning for me.
I was talking to clients in America.
So instead, I gave the worst analogy I may have ever used …
I pointed out The Eagles are the best selling American band in history.
That their ‘easy listening’ songs were designed to literally appeal to the widest audience possible. That their repetitive approach has been used to reinforce their position.
Or lack of one.

However the second best selling American band of all time is Metallica.
OK, I’m biased, but no one can say their music is designed for mass appeal.
Even their more ‘audience friendly’ albums still targeted a particular type of music fan. A fan that is anti-mainstream and anti-easy listening.
And yet Metallica’s fierce focus on who they are and what they believe – matched with their desire to continually explore and experiment with formats and approaches for their music – has resulted in them attracting ever bigger audiences rather than chasing them.
But its even more than that …
In the fickle, fast-changing world of music, Metallica haven’t just been able to maintain their credibility and authenticity, they have managed to still be seen as a contemporary band.
A band that is more popular now than they’ve ever been, while not changing who they are, what they believe or who they’re for.
I finished this rant off with the words:
“Be Metallica, not The Eagles”.
Fortunately, given I was doing this call at stupid o’clock, people let it pass.
However, while the analogy may be bollocks, the reality isn’t.
We live in an industry that is increasingly falling into rules of how things should be done.
And there are some – without doubt.
But we are in danger of ignoring the power of culture and creativity in favour of box-ticking and formulas and yet it’s the brands and bands like Nike, Metallica, SKP-S, Kanye, Liquid Death who not only hold – and set – the cultural attention and narrative, but continue to fast-track growth and profit compared to a category who blindly follow a system designed to play more to the ‘safety’ of the middle rather than the power and influence of the edge.
I’m not saying it’s easy.
I’m not saying it’s not without risk.
I’m not saying it happens in a smooth, straight line.
But when you do it well … when you know who you are, who you’re for and what you believe, it’s definitely worth it, against pretty much every metric you can measure it against.
Was He A Genius Or A Joker …
A lot has been written about Steve Jobs.
Hell, I’ve done a lot of it myself … however generally, everything said about the man is always about his genius.
That makes sense, because he was one, but rarely do you hear the human side of Jobs.
Sure, there’s his university speeches and occasionally his corporate ones, but there’s not often anything that reveals a sense of humour.
Now I’ve been told there were occasions where he definitely had one, but all I ever found ‘on record’ was his view on working with the designer, Paul Rand – and that’s more respectful dig than laugh out loud.
And then someone sent me a letter he wrote in the early days of Apple.
A letter that reveals his real sense of humour.
Smart. Dry. Slightly self-depreciating. Self aware.
Or at least I hope it is, because the alternative isn’t funny but terrifying.

Peak Planner Cat Lady Who Is A Bloke …

As you know, I love my cat Rosie.
I have written A LOT about her over the years.
Like this.
And this.
Or this.
And this.
To name but a very, very few.
But recently, I got the opportunity to give a presentation about her to senior members of our clients.
Better yet, it was about what they could learn from her.
Yep … an entire presentation about my cats superior brand building capabilities.
Of course it went down well …
By ‘well’, I mean they didn’t report me to my bosses or the Police.
Which is why I am of the opinion I’ve achieved all there is to achieve and can now bask in the glow of having just achieved the top level of the classic planner game ‘things you can learn about brands from _________’.
And I can tell you, that is better than winning any Cannes, Effies or WARC Grand Prix.
Oh, have to go, there’s a knock on the door and I can Doctors and Nurses outside holding a jacket that has no arms in just my size …
Have a great day.
A Great Big Cup Of Shite …
A few weeks ago, Otis told me I was wasting my money.
I asked him if he meant the breakfast I’d just bought him but he said it was everything I spent my money on.
I don’t know what brought on that exclamation – and he was laughing as he said it – but I looked him dead in the eye and told him I was much better than I used to be.
And I am.
Oh my god, the shit I’ve spent my cash on.
From remote control balls and robot dogs – lots of robot dogs – through to … well, stuff that cost a lot more than either of those gadget stupidity.
Even Jill told Otis I was much better, which I consider one of my life’s true achievements.
And that would be the end of the story had my colleague not had the shittest weekend ever recently.
Without going into too much detail, they discovered their toilet plumbing had decided to impersonate a fountain underneath their entire house.
A fountain of shit.
It was so disgusting and deplorable that even the professional shit specialist plumber announced, “For fuck’s sake mate” when he saw the photos sent to him.
I don’t mind admitting that I found this hilarious.
Please don’t mistake my laughter for revenge – I really, really like this colleague – but it was so horrific, that you had to laugh.
And laugh I did … everytime I told someone about it.
My family.
My friends.
They even walked in on me telling a client who had just flown in from Australia.
But I appreciate that while I found it funny … for them, it was no laughing matter.
Which is why I decided to make it up to them by buying them a present.
This …

Yep, they’re very own ‘shit cup’.
Not – as Jill first thought – a cup made from the shit in my colleagues garden [what sort of psychopath does she think I am] but a cup featuring photos of the shit in his garden.
Which is far more hygienic and thoughtful.
But as horrified as my colleague is, I’ve given them an even better gift.
Because the next time they see Otis, they can show him their present and tell him:
“Hey Otis, you’re right. Your Daddy does spends his money on shit. Literally.”