Filed under: America, Birthday, China, Dad, Daddyhood, England, Family, Jill, Love, New Zealand, Otis
So on Sunday, it’s Otis’ 8th birthday.
Eight.
He is basically growing up way too fast.
So fast, I wish the police would come and tell him to slow down.
It seems like only yesterday I took this ridiculous photo of him, mere minutes old …
… but here he is, 8 years later, full of life, love and joy.
He is such a wonderful boy.
Of course I’d say that, but he is.
Kind, considerate and always trying his hardest.
If anything, I wish he pushed the rules a bit more – but even his teachers say what a good kid he is. And given the challenge of recently being diagnosed with disgraphia, that’s even more wonderful to hear.
That he had started to suffer anxiety because he thought he wasn’t good enough because he couldn’t keep up with the other kids in class with writing – breaks my heart. But fortunately his teachers noticed quickly, designed a different way for him to express and contribute in class and now he’s growing back in confidence which makes me so proud.
Both of him and his teachers.
But then, where he’s concerned, he has consistently revealed his compassion and resiliance.
From moving country so many times to choosing to cutting his long hair to help ‘kids with cancer’ to being a tough little cookie when he got rushed into hospital for an emergency operation within a week of turning 7 … he’s a phenomenal human.
And now he turns 8.
EIGHT.
While there’s many thing I could wish for him this year, I think the main thing would be to continue with what he’s got.
Stability.
A safe, calm home environment.
His network of buddies and mates.
Outlets for his energy, interests and cheekiness.
A range of people who support his individual needs personally, accadmically and emotionally.
Of course he may want different things … of which I assume Superman and Transformers would feature heavily … but having a place he can continue to be connected to and enjoy is one he may – in time – also appreciate.
We’ve always known this.
And wanted this for him.
So to be able to give him it – and see how much he has blossomed because of it – is a dream.
And while we know we won’t be here forever, like all parents, what we do want is for him to be happy and fulfilled.
To not fear the unknown.
To embrace his interests and curiosity.
To feel safe in being able to express who he is and how he feels.
Maybe that’s a pipe-dream … after all, the world can be a challenging and tough place.
But NZ does offer – at least until kids are 11 or 12 – an environment where this way of life is more possible than anywhere else we’ve lived.
And he deserves that.
He deserves to be in place where he feels he can belong.
Not that he didn’t have that in other places, but he was either too young to realise its importance or we were not there long enough for him to feel it.
And that’s something I still regret.
I have a photo of him saying goodbye to his friend on our last day in America that still breaks my heart.
There he is, in his socks and on our drive – after running out the front door of our house – giving Jack a big hug after he realised he may not see him again.
The guilt I still feel about that is one I don’t know I’ll ever get over.
Which is probably what I deserve, given I was the reason for it.
I just hope Otis knows I never want to hurt him … never want to rob him of the people who mean so much to him. Which is why I’m so glad Elodie is still in his life, despite it now being filled with what seems a 1000 new friends from his school and community.
Watching that develop and evolve is one of the most beautiful and special things I’ve ever witnessed.
Sure, there’s the odd drama, but generally it’s a really happy and healthy group. Kids who look out for each other. Supportive, encouraging and just kind. They’re a better example to society than my generation … which is why I hope we don’t fuck the world entirely before they can come in and fix it.
Not that they should have to take on that burden, but that’s the generosity of that generation.
A desire to help everyone prosper, not just the usual suspects.
Of of which my son is one of them … reaffirmed by the goals, ambitions and hopes he tells us he has for his life.
Which is why I want to leave this post with this message to him.
Otis.
My wonderful, beautiful, brilliant Otis.
I love you.
Not a day goes by where I am not proud to be your Dad. Where you make me laugh at your observations of what’s happening in life. Where you blow me away with your passion and enthusiasm for life … from watching endless Kids Youtube, to your love of all things Marvel through to the way you literally transform into this powerful, confident, graceful human fish the moment you enter water.
And every little thing in-between.
You’re brilliant Otis. Proper brilliant.
Not just for what you do, but who you are.
I am so proud of you …
Proud for how you embrace life.
Proud for how you embrace challenges.
Proud for just being a kind, compassionate, considerate kid.
And as much as I wish you weren’t growing up so fast, it’s offset by the joy of seeing who you are becoming. Go forth in life with courage and optimism. It’s very easy to just be seized by the cynicism and darkness of the world … but people like you give it light.
You give it to me.
You light up my whole world.
Happy birthday Otis … you make your Mum and Dad the happiest parents in the World.
Rx
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Corporate Evil, Crap Campaigns In History, Marketing, Marketing Fail
OK, as I wrote yesterday, this week has been full of loving and nice posts.
Or as long and nice as I can get.
And tomorrow – as it’s the closest day to Otis’ 8th birthday – I’m going to drown you in it.
So I thought I’d better show I’ve still got some hate in me before you call the hospital.
And Police.
Fortunately, Uber have made it easy for me to do this. Again.
Because for all their claims ‘we’re a good, people-focused company these days’, they show they’re not.
Or, at the very least, lacking any sense of self awareness whatsoever.
Have a look at this ..
What. The. Absolute. Fuck?
Like seriously, what the hell?
Now to be honest, this may be a joke tweet. I didn’t see it myself but was sent it by a friend.
But the fact I can imagine it’s real, highlights how questionable Uber are.
Because – lets face it – anyone that uses the death of a loved one to try and guilt trip you into hiring their taxi service has some major issues going on.
And they don’t even get it right because they suggest the reason you should do it is to ‘treat yourself’ rather than respect the loss of your grandfather.
They even dare say it’s what ‘grandpa would have wanted’.
The evil pricks.
But why would I think they’d understand how disgusting this behaviour is?
For all the fluff PR pieces they’ve put out … we all know Uber don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything other than lining their own pocket.
So here’s hoping anyone who falls for this lets grandpa’s ashes fall out all over the back of the Uber Black seats and force it off the road for a few days so it can be cleaned. Because annoying someone who is trying to bully and manipulate their grandkids is what grandpa really would have wanted.
Assholes.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Death, Empathy, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Sentimentality
This week has seen quite a lot of sentimental posts so far.
Or should I say, has seem more sentimental posts that usual.
The reason is likely because it’s Otis’ 8th birthday on Sunday and I’m building up to it.
I’ll be writing a big post about that – and him – on Friday, but this post continues the sentimental theme.
Except this has nothing to do with me and is just something I couldn’t help be touched by.
A story of love and loss.
Friendship and light at moments of loneliness and darkness.
No, it’s not the storyline for a documentary.
It’s not even about humans.
But it is real. And I do love it. Especially as the world feels more divided and broken than I’ve ever experienced it and so any sign of genuine emotion and love goes a long way.
Have a read of this … though the real impact comes in the form of the photographs.
Those beautiful, gentle, loving photos.
Especially the one with the ‘wing’ around the other.
Who knew that we could all do with being a bit more penguin!
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Colenso, Comment, Family, New Zealand
This is a photo of my home. Obviously taken at night.
I love this place.
It’s probably my favourite place of all the places I’ve ever lived.
Of course, being able to have any home is a total privilege … so having one you really love is bordering on obscene. I get that.
And it’s obscene how much I love this place.
The fact it’s built into the trees.
That it’s surrounded by nature.
That it has outside decks on multiple floors.
That it’s close to work and yet feels a million miles away.
And then there’s the fact we bought it without having seen it – or even being in the country – which just makes it feel like we won the lottery. Except we paid a shitload for the ticket, haha.
So knowing one day we’ll leave it makes it all the more difficult.
Of course we don’t know when, but it will happen.
And while we’ve talked about trying to build an exect replica wherever we end up next … we know even if it was identical, it wouldn’t be the same.
Because a home is more than those walls.
It’s the environment. The surrounding area. The community. The moment in time.
Which is why I especially love the top pic.
Because while it doesn’t show much, it shows just enough.
A big steel door that holds a warm, inviting shelter.
A place where my family could blossom again after the challenges of covid.
A building where my son, wife and cat could connect to the privilege of living in New Zealand.
In many ways, it’s the most ‘family’ home we’ve had.
I don’t mean that in terms of size, but in our connection to it … which given we’ve lived in other places for far longer is testimony to what it means to us.
What New Zealand has done for us.
What Colenso made happen for us.
Leaving it will be terribly, terribly hard.
And while people reading this may rightfully say, “stop wishing your life away” … the reality is it means we’re not taking anything for granted. We notice and embrace every detail. We remain thankful for what we have. And in my book, that’s an act of love … which may be the most mature thing I’ve ever said, let alone done, in my life.
Filed under: Advertising, America, China, Collegues, Planners, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, Shanghai, Wieden+Kennedy
So a little while ago, the wonderful human that was Dan Wieden sadly passed away.
A lot of amazing things were written about this amazing man.
And I added my own little story to the compendium as well.
But there was one that was not published.
Mainly because it was a conversation between some people who worked at Wieden about how sad we were that Dan had passed..
It’s possibly the weirdest tribute written.
Not specific to Dan, I mean ever … and yet, it is a tribute that was expressed with as much love and respect to the man and the legacy he built, as any of the others.
I should point out Dan – and I – are not guilty as charged. The person in question is simply referencing the fact that I sent them to Portland for a W+K meeting and Dan happened to have started W+K in a city where this particular form of ‘entertainment’ was everywhere.
Don’t be hard on the person who wrote it.
They were young.
They were from China.
This was their first overseas trip.
And he was given these experiences by people who wanted to ‘introduce them to the West’.
I personally would have chosen a different approach, but each to their own and I know the intent was to explode this visitors mind in good ways, not damaging.
Given he still remembers his trip so vividly – maybe 10 years+ after it happens – I guess this means they succeeded.
Which results in Dan getting the most unique, but well intentioned tribute ever written.
I think he may have liked it.
Or the sentiment of it at least.
Miss you Mr W.
And you LL.