Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Cannes, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Holiday, Jill, Love, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents, Paul, Paula, Planners, Planning, Queen, Shelly
So let’s start with the good news …
This is my last post until the 26th June.
That’s over 2 weeks of peace and quiet!!!
You lucky people. [Though who knows if anyone reads this now comments have stopped]
The bad news is this post is going to be loooooooong. Proper long.
And possibly ‘jealousy inducing’ … or at least insult igniting, given the blagging I’ll be acknowledging.
But there are valid reasons behind it all. Honest.
First up is that I have a bunch of birthday’s to acknowledge …
First of all is mine, because on Monday, I turn 53.
FIFTY FUCKING THREE!
This means I am closer to 70 than 30 …
Normally that would be depressing as fuck, but I was recently given the best present ever when Metallica’s management said I was, “immune from maturity”.
Of course, I appreciate under normal circumstances this would be a big diss, however at my age – and when they represent genuine Rockstars – this may be the best compliment ever.
Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be because there’s not many more reasons to be happy.
But 3 days later, it’s my darling Jill’s birthday.
Whereas I get more immature with age, she gets more wonderful.
I wish that was simply my attempt at being a romantic husband … but she really is.
I would love to detail how, but as I’ve mentioned before – she hates the attention on her, especially on this blog – so just know it makes me very happy to see because she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and is more than I deserve.
Happy birthday my darling Jill, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day.
Now you may think I have suddenly become a soppy-sod – and I am OK with that – but you may feel a bit differently when I tell you that on the night of Jill’s birthday, where most people would be having a celebratory dinner – I will be waving goodbye to her, getting on a plane and flying to England because the next day it’s …
Paul’s birthday.
That’s right, for the first time since 2020, I’ll be spending Paul’s birthday with him and seeing him and Shelly for the first time in over a year.
I’m so, so happy I can do that. I’m also so excited to see them.
The older I get, the more I want to be closer to them – even though I appreciate how ironic it is to say that when I have chosen to live just about as far away from them as I possibly can.
Who knows what will happen in the future to change that [actually, I do, I just don’t know when] but I’m thrilled I’m going to get to spend Paul’s special day with him and hang out with him and Shelly for a few days.
That I get to be with 2 of my most special and treasured people on their birthday .. means that however hard 2023 is, it is going to be a great year for me.
Thank god for horrific timezone difference between NZ and UK.
Which all leads to the final journey of my blog silence …
And that is me leaving Nottingham to fly to Cannes to present on stage with 2 more special and treasured people – Paula Bloodworth and Martin Weigel.
Like Paul, the last time I saw them in person was a year ago, so to not just see them … but present with them … is an utter thrill.
I say that, but at the time of writing this post, we have only written 4 slides so unless we pull our finger out, it may be a case of being happy to see them but a total nightmare to present with them – hahaha.
And finally, as much as Cannes can drive me nuts, it gives me an opportunity to see a bunch of old friends from my past which will be bloody wonderful – especially as George and Lee will be there and so it can feel like I’ve let comments back on this blog, haha.
So there you have it.
That’s why I’m not writing any posts for a couple of weeks.
And while some of you will claim its a massive holiday, it’s actually me reconnecting to life.
That’s honestly how it feels.
I appreciate that sounds overly dramatic … after all, it’s not like I don’t talk to them all pretty much every week.
And obviously, in the case of Jill, I get to see here every single day.
I also appreciate the privilege of being able to fly over there to see the rest of them – not to mention I am the one who put myself in the position of being away from them.
But this is more than just being in their physical company – which will be special in itself – it’s about the undivided time.
No zoom time limits … or snatched moments before the next interruption … actual time.
Time to go on endless tangents.
Time to go down multiple rabbitholes.
Time to enjoy the pregnant pauses.
Time to talk shit … rather than maximise the time allocated. Or allowed.
Time to be cocooned away from the other stuff that likes to interrupt and dictate.
And while many may think they get this every day, I’m not so sure.
Yes, being physically close to people you care about does – in theory – make this easier to do.
But proximity doesn’t automatically equate to intimacy.
You have to want it. Demand it. Not be satisfied with a different version of it.
And most of the time that’s not the case …
We don’t even realise it’s happening because we get so caught up in the whirlwind of life.
Dealing with the pressures, demands, expectation and – for some – the self-importance of our own lives.
And that’s why there is something to be said about living away from those that matter.
I know … that sounds the opposite of what I’ve just written … but hang in there.
You see I used to think the benefit of living around the world was that you could discover and explore possibilities you never knew even existed … let alone were actually possible.
And it’s true.
I’m not exaggerating when I say everything I have in my life – outside of Paul and Shelley – is because I chose to explore the world rather than stay in Nottingham,.
Every. Single. Thing.
That doesn’t mean people who stay where they are from can’t also discover new possibilities, but it’s definitely going to be harder which is why I will be forever grateful for the opportunity – and my naivety – to go and explore what life was made of, despite not having the faintest idea of what I was doing.
It’s why I always tell people who have been offered the chance to live overseas that they shouldn’t let the things they’ll miss, hold them back … instead, they should think about all the things they may discover.
And I still stand by that.
But of course, missing the people you love is a big thing.
A huge thing.
I definitely missed my parents every single day and I went through a lot of emotional challenges on that journey.
But I was also extremely lucky my parents wanted me to explore.
Of course they missed me.
Of course they would have loved me to be closer.
But they wanted me to forge my own life, not be restrained by theirs, which is an act of love that still takes my breath away.
Even more so when they could have – and maybe should have – asked me to stay, given my Dad’s health situation that happened 6 weeks before I was due to leave for Australia.
I offered.
I meant it.
But they said no … and I swear it’s because they knew if I didn’t go then, I may never go at all.
That’s just so typical of my parents … always wanting the best for me while also understanding the reality of me.
And while part of this was them having faith in the values they’d taught me – for example, chase a life of fulfillment, not contentment – I think another part is they realised something I’ve only just started to discover.
Distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes your relationships more present.
Greater focus, awareness and understanding on what makes you work together. The confidence to dismiss the differences that stand in the way of your connection. The willingness to be vulnerable – not just to enable greater intimacy – but to acknowledge their desire to want to help you, even if you feel they shouldn’t need to. And an openness to the uncomfortable in the knowledge, you’re not being judged … you’re reaching out.
I appreciate this all sounds like a post-rationalisation for being away from the ones I love and care about.
And maybe a bit is.
But as I’ve said before, creating space so the people who matter get the best of me rather than what is left of me is important.
It’s not easy.
It comes with challenges and sacrifices.
But while proximity keeps you near, maybe – just maybe – distance helps close the gap.
See you in a couple of weeks.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Bank Ads, Business, Customer Service, Emotion, Empathy, Finance
This has been a week of big posts. And tomorrow is going to be mega-big … as I’m going to be away for a couple of weeks and given there’ll be no posts, I have a lot of stuff I need to bang on about before I get on that plane.
I know … I know … the thought of that fills you with dread [me too, to be honest] so to make us all feel ready for that nightmare situation, I thought I’d write something a bit smaller … a bit lighter. Albeit it revolves around identify theft. Specifically mine.
You see a few weeks ago, I received this:
It was real.
Apparently someone had got hold of my NZ Credit Card details and was attempting to buy stuff with it in the US. Specifically DoorDash food.
Personally, if someone is going to steal credit card info, you’d think they’d spend your cash on something massive and ridiculous … and certainly not something where you can easily trace where they are by simply following where their food is being delivered. I’m almost insulted to be honest. I remember the good, ol’ days where my credit cards were used to buy computers at Apple in NY and – best of all – tickets for the Orient Express.
But I digress … because in this situation, the bank noticed straight away and shut any spend down before they could go to extravagant.
So far, so good.
Understandably they wanted me to call them to confirm information … so I was just about to dial when I noticed their fraud departments ‘opening hours’.
I must admit, my first reaction was that it felt a bit strange.
Surely a fraud department would be open 24/7? Ready to respond.
But no.
Worse, as all this happened at 9:30pm on a Friday evening, I was in financial no-mans-land.
To be fair, when I called them the next morning, they were very helpful – but then they informed me that my card was now blocked forever and it would take approx 5 working days to get sent a new one.
Five days.
And just as I was about to plead with them to speed it up, I suddenly realised that this meant I wouldn’t be able to buy any more wifi/gadget trash off instagram. Given in the previous week, I’d purchased an ‘ink stamp’ of my cat, a wi-fi/automated Rubik’s cube and 500 stickers of Nottingham Forest … this was an act of mercy.
Which leads me to this.
Banks have a bad reputation.
A lot of it is entirely justified.
But sometimes – just sometimes – you feel they’re actually being proactive and it feels shocking. Good shocking … but still shocking. Maybe they should try it more often, they may be amazed what it does for their reputation and loyalty.
Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Business, Communication Strategy, Confidence, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Egovertising, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Strategy
Not too long ago, Campaign – in the UK – asked me for my point of view on Byron Sharp and the obsession with brand assets etc.
Specifically, they wanted to know if I felt he was hindering creativity as well as making it harder for small business to ever stand a chance of breaking through.
Now I have some issues with Mr Sharp’s character, but if I put that aside to answer the question, I said this:
First of all, I don’t think Mr Sharp wants to kill creativity.
From my perspective, he recognises its value far more than others in his position. If I’m going to talk about who is undermining the power of creativity, I’d say it can be aimed far more at the companies who outsource all their training needs to the same few individuals because it’s easier and cheaper for them to do.
God, that’s started off controversially hasn’t it?
The reality is what Mr Sharp says isn’t wrong, it’s just not the one-size-fits-all approach that so many seem to have interpreted it as.
And that highlights what the real problem is for me: conformity over possibility.
Or said another way, the modern equivalent of ‘no one got fired buying IBM’.
Look, I get it … marketing is expensive, complicated and influenced by a whole host of factors that you can’t control, so if someone say’s “this will stop you making stupid mistakes”, it’s pretty compelling.
But the reality is not making stupid mistakes doesn’t mean you are ensuring success. Worse, blindly following these rules creates a real risk you will commodify yourself … looking, talking and behaving just like everyone else. Let’s be honest, you don’t have to look too hard to see that already happening …
And that’s my problem with terms like ‘brand assets’ … they’re talked about as if you can buy them off the shelf.
Simply choose a single colour, add a logo and some category cues … then sit back and count your billions.
But people are confusing visual distinction with brand value.
Sure, being recognised in some way helps … but it only becomes an ‘asset’ if it has meaning built into it and to do that requires distinctive and deliberate acts, actions and behaviour over time.
Or said another way, you don’t ‘create’ a brand asset, things become a brand asset.
The industry is continually looking for shortcuts.
I get it … I really do … but the irony is the thing that can deliver so much of this, is the thing the industry continually tries to diminish or control.
Creativity.
At its best, creativity rewrites rules and changes the odds in your favour.
Creativity helped Liquid Death get men to want to drink water.
Creativity helped Gentle Monster become the fastest selling and growing eyewear brand across Asia.
Creativity helped Roblox go from niche player to the single most played game by kids and teens across America.
Creativity even helped Metallica use a 30 year old album to attract more fans resulting in them becoming the second most successful American band of all time.
They didn’t achieve this simply because of smart distribution of their brand assets. Nor did they achieve it by placing their logo as a watermark throughout their TV commercial [which has to be the laziest and most misguided attempt to achieve ‘attribution’]. They achieved it by allowing creativity the freedom to push forward in ways that – as a by-product – meant their voice created value in their numerous assets.
I get it’s not easy.
I get it requires real energy and openness.
But little can achieve what creativity can do when you commit to letting it loose.
My problem [and I appreciate this may just be me] is that many seem to have interpreted the words of Sharp [and others] in a way where they see creativity as simply the ‘wrapping paper’ to execute their rules and processes.
But creativity isn’t the wrapping, it’s the fucking present.
A gift that offers value to brands that goes far beyond the fulfilment of singular commercial objectives and goals.
There are countless examples of brands achieving incredible success and growth following different rules so much of the industry feel is the only way to progress.
That’s not meant as a diss to Mr Sharp, he is obviously very good – though I note he and his peers choose to not highlight that many misinterpret and misuse their guidance, which suggests there is an element of complicity and profiteering from the one-size-fits-all blandification that is happening all around us.
But even then, the real blame should be aimed at the industry for fetishising the learnings and viewpoints of the same few people, because however good they may be – and they are good – it means we’re literally choosing to narrow our own potential and future.
Don’t get me wrong, brand assets are definitely a thing. But they don’t make creativity valuable … creativity makes them an asset.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Emotion, Empathy, Football, Leadership, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Resonance, Respect, Talent
One of the people who made my childhood so amazing was someone not connected in the slightest to my family.
Brian Clough.
Over the years I’ve written a lot about him.
How he led my beloved Nottingham Forest to glory no one could have ever dreamed about.
How he led the football league in terms of standards and reputation.
How he led the Nottingham through its darkest days of Margaret Thatcher.
How he’d serve me at his newsagents in West Bridgford on a Sunday morning.
How he put a city on the map again.
Hell, I even did a presentation about the management lessons you could learn from him.
He was a hero to me.
It’s because of him I travelled to the other side of the World to see Nottingham Forest get into the Premiership again. He made me love them so much. He made me feel the sadness of 23 years in the wilderness.
Now it is fair to say at the end of his management at Nottingham Forest, the effects of his alcoholism had taken hold. He was not who he had once been.
He said he drank because he got to celebrate more than most … but everyone knew. And yet, despite that, everyone still respected him.
Even at his last game at the City Ground – where we lost – the entire stadium, including the opposition fans, rose up to applaud him and shout his name.
Can you imagine that happening for anyone else?
Hell, even with his long successful reign at Forest ending in relegation, all the fans – and the TV pundits – still loved him. Still wished he could get better to stay on.
And while there are lots of stories that help explain why he was so loved, I heard two new ones recently that really showed how important character and principals go a long way in having people follow and believe in you.
The first is how he talked a man off a bridge who was planning to die by suicide.
He was driving home and saw a large group of people on Trent Bridge, congregated in a particular spot.
Rather than drive past, he pulled over – literally on the bridge – to find out what was happening.
There he found a Policeman trying to talk the man down.
From there, he took over, talking gently to the man.
Asking questions. Being interested in what he was going through. Offering to help.
At one point the topic of football came up and the man revealed to Clough he was a Notts County fan. Without missing a beat, Clough said that he liked them but he should come and see his team as they’re doing pretty well. [They’d just won the European Cup]
Eventually the man was coaxed down and the Policeman who was there nominated Clough for an award – such was his influence in bringing him down, and later he was given a certificate naming him ‘citizen of the month’ by the Police.
Clough was an enigma.
You never knew what you were going to get.
Hugely charismatic but with an ability to be ruthless and vicious.
By the same token, he was incredibly generous and compassionate.
He loved his family. He loved Peter Taylor [despite them having a huge fallout that resulted in them never talking again] and he loved helping those who needed help.
The story of how he took in 2 young brothers who were poverty stricken and in an abusive home reads almost like a soppy Hollywood story. Except it’s true.
However the other story I heard recently that revealed his generosity is from his last ever match as Forest manager.
The date is May 8, 1993, and James Scowcroft, was a youth team player for Ipswich Town.
Scowcroft would become a popular striker for them – making more than 200 appearances – but back then, however, he was 17 and yet to make his first-team debut.
This was an era when apprentices had a list of match-day chores and his was to look after the away dressing room. His job was to make sure everything was tidy and organised and he would go in five minutes before kick-off – while all the players were waiting in the tunnel – so he could get a head start making sure everything was ready for half-time.
That day, however, was different.
This is what James said:
To the end, he cared about the game and especially the youngsters entering it.
No wonder the BBC Commentator, Barry Davies, summed up that day – and Clough’s career – with this:
“Clough emerged from the tunnel and, always keeping it interesting, hugged a policewoman before taking his seat. I reported that by saying “An embrace for the law on his last home appearance. The man with the green sweater. Whatever his failings, whatever his foibles, he’s been a power of good for the game of football.”
It’s a pretty perfect summation.
Clough was flawed but he was also a genius.
Many thought he was a maverick, but there was always method to his madness.
And a big part of that method was his belief in the potential of others.
He would fight for them.
He would protect them.
He would help them.
This article from The Athletic captures so much of the great man … from his earliest days to his lasting legacy.
And it is a lasting legacy … hell, he has 3 statues of him for a start.
They say if you remember people, they’re still with us.
Well I remember him. He helped write a big part of my brilliant childhood.
54 years ago, five twenty somethings – Hylton Mackley, Vern King, Michael Wall, Mike Hutcheson and Roger MacDonnell – got together to start an agency.
Only problem is they didn’t have any clients or any cash.
Step in Hylton’s wife, Eileen, who handed over her student loan to help them get started.
The rest, as they say, is history … one we are continually encouraged to push, stretch, provoke and mess with.
Bu we can’t forget we wouldn’t be here if they weren’t there which is why today is Founders Day, followed by the weekend, followed by a National day off [not for Colenso, though it should be] so see you Tuesday. If anyone is still bothered to visit and read my rubbish.