So this is it. Last post of 2023.
And while we don’t break up till mid next week, It’s time.
For you and for me.
A month of peace, quiet, overeating and underwhelming presents.
So I was thinking how I could end this year of blogging before realising there’s a whole other year of it to come – so instead I’ll end on two things.
First of all is thank you.
Thank you to all the people who read my rubbish. Who get in contact because of my rubbish. Who send me emails telling me it’s rubbish.
I do miss not reading comments on the blog, but removing them has let me become a hell of a lot more productive given I don’t have to continually check what has just been written. [Though the daily emails I get from John, Andy, George and – occasionally, Lee, keep me questioning how to fill in my weekly timesheet]
The other good thing with the blog silence is that I don’t have to deal with the couple of assholes who kept sending me shit. And by ‘shit’, I mean threats and attacks that were far more personal than the threat and attacks everyone else used to write every day.
So it’s a win:win.
Secondly, thank you to everyone who has made this year special to me.
From my family … to my friends … to my team mates and colleagues … to my clients … to the conference organisers who stupidly invited me to be a part of their event … to Nottingham Forest for staying up … to basically everyone who added to the year rather than took it away.
Because I’m in NZ, I get an amazing break where everything and everyone shuts down. As I wrote here, it’s probably the greatest example of protecting mental health than anywhere I’ve ever lived.
But while NZ is a wonderful place, don’t go thinking it’s perfect.
It’s not.
Not even with it’s amazing beauty – as demonstrated in the photo immediately above, which is from the bottom of my street.
And for the record, I don’t mean it in terms of ‘Dream Small’ sense – where too many of the younger generations here feel tolerated rather than welcomed.
No … what I’m talking about is in the alleged kindness and politeness of the people.
Now before any Kiwi reads this blows their gasket, bear with me …
You see on face value, when you arrive here you can’t help but think the people are the nicest bunch of kind, happy, considerate folk you’ve ever met. Always smiling. Always accommodating. Always calm and casual.
You may think they must be heaven sent given the aura of wonderful that radiates out of them.
Then one day you’re in a workshop and a client asks you to write what you think of their brand personality and someone writes something that makes you realise that under that soft skin of compassion and encouragement lies a bubbling cauldron of utter evil bastard.
And while this should make you like them less, it makes you love them more.
Especially when it came from our ever-lovely CCO, Simon Vicars.
Did he say?
He said this:
How amazing is that?
Better yet, he read it to everyone in the meeting.
Which is why I cannot think of a better way to leave this blog for the year, especially as his words could be as much about me and this blog as it was about this brands personality.
[For the record, the client agreed … and it was why they came to us to help them with it]
So to all of you … have an amazing break wherever you are and whatever you do and may you embrace truth over harmony like Si embraces truth over harmony.
Thank you again. For everything.
Till next year … specifically, Jan 15.
Love ya.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Family, Hotels, Technology
A long time ago, I was working on an innovation brief for a prestigious car brand.
As I sat there, listening to all the engineers talking, I realised their focus was more on optimising and evolving rather than innovating.
By that I mean, they were more focused on what they do and how they could make it better and more useful than embracing issues that were bigger than just the industry that they’re in.
So I said it.
Silence and incredulity.
“So what would you suggest?” one of them asked.
Now in these situations, it can only go one of three ways.
1. You go blank.
2. You say something they’ve already done/thought about.
3. You say something that makes them stop and think.
In the vast majority of cases – let’s be honest – it tends to be numbers 1 or 2, but on this occasion, I said something that fell into the last bracket.
“What if you made the car the most private, personal space they could be?”
That shut them up.
They weren’t expecting that.
To be honest, either was I … but while they came back at me with all sorts of technological and legal reasons why this couldn’t be done or wouldn’t be wanted – from car data through to our desire to be always contactable through our digital devices – the chief engineer was suitably intrigued for him to ask me to work with them on exploring what it could mean and who it would appeal to, most.
Which led to a year of one of the most interesting projects I ever worked on.
I should point out that when I talked about privacy, it was not about ‘isolation’ … though there is a value in that … I was talking literally about privacy.
Or said another way, ‘what goes on in your car, stays in your car’.
And while there was a bunch of fascinating research and explorations that went on in the quest to see where this could end up, it never got to where I hoped it would. And it certainly never manifested into an actual product I thought it could become.
Which is why this graffiti I got sent recently, hit home:
To me, this encapsulated where my head was at.
The desire to have a place where we are assured privacy and/or solitude.
A cross between a hibernation and a cultural vacuum, if you will.
To be honest, this was all influenced by work we did for Taj Hotels back in 2007 … where we blocked all mobile access at certain Taj resorts.
Back then, it was less about social media and more about the intrusion of work on family holidays … but the premise – and benefit – was the same.
[For the record, it was only possible because of where technology and the law was at back then. Plus all customers opted into this experiment with the acknowledgement there were alternative contact methods available, even if not as convenient]
Of course, I appreciate that was slightly different to what I put forward with the car idea. That was more about having a ‘social kills switch’ when the car was more a mobile ‘black hole’ … but I do believe the value of privacy – even momentary privacy – will soon rival that of FOMO.
We’re already seeing it.
From VPN’s to quiet luxury.
Not because we don’t want to be connected with the world around us.
But because we want to feel we have greater control over it.
Filed under: Advertising, Age, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Colleagues
OK, I appreciate the last couple of days of posts have been long and self indulgent, so I thought I’d reward you with one that’s more concise and takes the piss out of me like you used to take the piss out of me. When I let you comment on here, haha.
So a few weeks ago, I saw a photo on a Facebook group I’m in that’s connected to an old agency I worked at.
Under the photo was this comment by the ‘star’ of the photo about the guy in the corner.
“I recognise him but can’t remember his name – a planner I think.”
This was the photo …
Immediately, I knew who they were referring to, because that bloke with the serial killer stare is me.
FUCKING HELL.
Look at the state of me.
I look like the sort of person who should be appearing in a ‘Police most wanted’ TV show rather than an ad agency party.
And why do my fingers look like they are a bad AI version of fingers? OK, I know they’re wrapped around a glass but what the fuck?!
My hair looks like a bad Chopper Read and my 5 o’clock shadow looks like it’s 8 o’clock.
Or more specifically, the Eric Band version of Chopper.
In fact the only bright side is that as questionable as I look now, I look less dodgy than I did around 30 years ago.
I know that’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got which begs the question, why aren’t skincare companies targeting ad agency people for their products – or at the very least, using us as people to demonstrate the ‘before/after’ efficacy of their product – because if anybody can prove its powers, it’s us.
Filed under: 2023, Advertising, Agency Culture, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Cannes, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corona Virus, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Holiday, Individuality, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Martin Weigel, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Paul, Paula, Peace, Prejudice, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Revenge, Review, School, Shanghai, Travel, Trust, Truth
So with all the focus on Otis’ 9th birthday, I only just realized this is going to be the last week of this blog for this year. Which means you get a month off and then – when I come back – I will be entering year number 18 of writing my rubbish.
EIGHTEEN YEARS.
An adult.
And will my posts reflect that maturity?
Errrrm, probably not.
In fact a while back, I got called ‘immune to maturity’ by Metallica’s management which they quickly followed up with, “… and I bet you think that’s a compliment.”
That’s why we’re still working together after 7 years … we understand each other so well, ha.
2023 has been an interesting year for me.
Definitely more highs than lows.
In many ways, it has been a standout year for me – both personally and professionally.
I feel almost embarrassed to say that. I totally appreciate how many people are suffering right now. I have friends in tough places and there’s those dealing with everything from mental health challenges through to terrifying conflicts … which just reinforced how privileged and lucky I am.
For the first time in my life, I started this year with a resolution, and it was to say ‘yes’ to everything I was asked to do.
I don’t know why I decided to do that – maybe it is because for all of NZ’s magic [of which there’s tons] it can sometimes feel a pretty isolated, inward-focused place – so to counter that, I decided 2023 was the year of yes and I got to do a lot of that.
Saying yes let me travel literally around the world for work … including some countries/cities I’d never been to in my life. [Not to mention, having the gift of visiting my childhood home again, even though I burst into tears when the lovely new owner opened the door, haha]
I got to speak at a bunch of ace conferences. from Cannes – with my mates Paula and Martin – the magnificent State Of Social in Perth right through to the WWD World Fashion Conference in China [with the incredible Phoebe Philo and, bizarrely, being interviewed by Fashion TV] with a whole bunch in-between.
I was a guest speaker at a bunch of institutions from Cambridge University, the Ecuadorian Advertising Federation right through to the House of Prada.
I got to be part of some incredible creative projects. From the huge: helping design the 72 Seasons world tour stage set for Metallica. The cheeky: offering the All Blacks rugby coach a free curry for a year if he brought home the World Cup, then taking away his naan bread because he didn’t. To the most awarded: watching the wonderful fools at Colenso pick up Gold gongs and Agency of the Year title’s all over the place.
Top that off with seeing 3 members of my team become parents for the first time [and another about 3 months into that magical journey] and to see the 3 newbies from overseas not only fit in with the gang like they were here for years, but make an even bigger difference than I hoped – and you can see why I feel it has been a hugely satisfying year for me professionally.
But it’s the personal side that made it truly memorable.
First of all, we’re all happy and healthy. Like properly happy and healthy.
Then, for the first time in 7 years, we had our first proper family holiday. And while It did not last long in terms of duration, the glow still is with me months later. Yes, I appreciate that sounds more sickly than being force fed 5047389 sticks of candyfloss, it’s true.
Jill started her new company, Tiny Riot … a jewellery company dedicated to say the words women feel, but don’t always want to say out loud. She also felt she had found her peeps … letting her feel she was part of a community she loves and thrives in. I cannot tell you how happy this makes me, especially as we know we’ll no doubt be moving to another country in the not too distant future, hahaha.
Just to be clear, that has not been decided yet, we just know it’s coming … especially as we’ve already lived in NZ longer than we have lived in the last 4 countries we have been in. But I digress …
Which leave Otis …
Brilliant, wonderful, fantastic Otis.
Well, he has flourished and blossomed this year.
From seeing his mates network evolve and develop … with their own codes, games and slang … through to watching him throw himself into new activities, like tennis and swimming, yoyo’s and messing about with Roblox, Reels and video games … to seeing him love his budgie, Sky [which he made me a t-shirt to wear on the Cannes stage to ensure I admitted I cared for it as much as Rosie, ha] and then of course, watching him deal with his dysgraphia diagnosis with positivity, openness and conviction.
Given I have seen adults literally burst into tears when they had to move desks at work – true story – seeing an 8, now 9 year old – embrace a challenge that will affect him for the rest of his life with understanding, openness and a desire to not let it define him or make excuses for him is honestly one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.
[I also have to add Forest staying in the Premiership was a highlight, because while Jill and Otis may not like to hear it … that team are family to me, hahaha]
But of course, you can’t have good without bad and there’s been a couple of things that have shaken me deeply.
One in particular made me question everything I thought I knew and could rely on.
The impact it had on me was – and still is – huge. I would say it has been the most emotionally confronting situation I’ve experienced since my parents died. It has been that big.
What makes it even worse is that in reality, I may never really get over it as the impact affects me and my family for the rest of our lives.
And we’re the least affected in this situation.
It has taken me months to try and come to terms with what has happened … to try and accept things I thought I knew and could rely on, have failed.
If truth be told, I’m still working on it … because while I appreciate life can take unexpected turns, it’s why – and how others deal with it – that determines how you feel about it and in this case, they are the things that ended up being disastrously dealt with.
Which is why 2023 can never be seen as a spectacular year for us, merely a very good one.
And as I said, that is still a hugely positive outcome given so many are suffering in ways that make my pain seem insignificant.
Which is why I was so impacted by some graffiti that someone I vaguely know, told me about.
It’s this …
… they’re not wrong.
Which is why, while I know 2024 will face it’s challenges – especially with the US election and the likelihood America will lose its mind and vote for Trump [while acknowledging the Democrats have failed to find and develop a single worthy candidate in 4+ years] – I hope by this time next year, more people can say they had a more positive than challenging year because the World needs it. Because for all the hell that Covid subjected the planet too, the anxiety created by people [read: old, white men] who feel entitled to do and have whatever they want is arguably, even worse. And without wanting to sound like a hippie … some peace would be nice.
I know no one will have read this far, but then this is not for you … but I can assure you the last 3 posts of this week won’t be as indulgent, not for your sanity, but because I can’t be arsed to write so much rubbish again.
Filed under: Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, China, Confidence, Dad, Daddyhood, Education, Emotion, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
Hello I’m back.
And the good news, it’s not for long …
Not because I’m going away again, but because it’s almost the holiday season so you – and I – get a break from this blog for a month.
A MONTH!
So with all the horrors on in the world, at least there’s that positive news to look forward to.
Anyway, as you can tell, I am back from the UK and there’s one main reason for it.
Today my beloved, wonderful, brilliant son – Otis – turns 9.
All those cliches of ‘they grow up so fast’ turned out – as many cliches do – to be true.
And while I wish it wasn’t, because it means we’re already at the halfway point to official ‘adulthood’, the fact is I can’t turn back time and every year with him just keeps getting better and better.
Oh, don’t get me wrong, there’s moments that test us … but even that is a sign of good stuff.
His desire for more independence.
His interest in things we don’t know or yet understand.
His network of mates with their codes and slang that reduces them to giggles.
But all of this is through the filter of being a good kid.
A compassionate, considerate, thoughtful boy.
Certainly more than I ever was at his age. Hell, more than people 5 times his age.
His awareness of issues such as equality, gender neutrality, prejudice and racism is wonderful. As is his assurance of which side of the fence he lands on all these issues.
Yes … we have had a big part to play in that, but it’s his curious mind that led him to the questions that allowed us to have conversations with it.
But it’s his perseverance in the face of adversity that is inspiring.
As I’ve written before, Otis has dysgraphia … a form of dyslexia that severely affects how he learns, specifically when requiring motor skills.
It means using with a pen is very difficult for him. As is his ability to process information in certain situations.
He knows he has it. He knows it can frustrate and challenge him … but he also has accepted and embraced it in the knowledge it can never be ‘cured’, only managed.
That he has been able to deal with that in a way where he is still able to thrive at school – especially in subjects such as reading, maths and creative writing – is testimony to his character and his desire to learn and do things well.
As I have also written about, his school deserves a lot of credit for this.
They have actively created the conditions for him to be able to do this. Not only that, they appreciate there’s little value forcing him to use a pen when that causes him problems and distress … especially when he shines so brightly when allowed to use a keyboard or use talk to type.
It not only means they appreciate the issue is HOW Otis learns rather than his capacity TO learn, it means they are focused on his potential rather than his challenges – which is exactly what a school should do, but we know rarely does for a whole host of reasons that I wrote about here.
What is also wonderful is how he is supported by his friends.
Back in my day, kids seized on the slightest weakness and used it to taunt you mercilessly.
But this generation aren’t like that. They’re supportive, encouraging and helpful.
In fact his friend Archie recently said to him, “I wish I had dysgraphia so I could use a computer all the time too”.
I hope that continues … but I am grateful for it happening now.
And today he turns 9.
NINE!!!
I remember that day in Shanghai when he was born like it was yesterday.
The early morning realization it was happening.
The 300 step walk to the new hospital near our home.
The wait.
The pushing.
The birth.
The tears of happiness.
The stupid first photograph. [See below]
The phone call to Mum.
The pink onesie.
The takeaway delivery.
The utter exhaustion. [Sorry Jill, I know you did all the work but …]
The constant wake up and marvel at him while checking he’s alive.
And now … 9 years and 4 countries later … we’re here.
I love you Otis. You have done so much for me I can’t put it into words.
But I’ll try.
You’ve made me a better person.
A better human, a better husband and – hopefully – a better dad.
More open.
More understanding.
More aware.
More appreciative.
More desperate to make you proud.
I wish with all my heart my Mum and Dad could have met you.
I know they would have loved the hell out of you.
Not just because you’re their first [and, let’s face it, only] grandchild … but because you’re a curious, cheeky, kind and happy, compassionate and passionate kid … bursting with energy, imagination and a deep sense of righteousness, all held together with a deep respect for being precise, considered and thoughtful.
Bloody hell! Talk about showing me up.
I’m proud to be your Dad.
I love seeing you develop and grow every day.
Watching you commit with a fierce focus on things you want to master … whether that’s Rubik’s Cubes, Yoyo’s, swimming, Mario, finding the funniest Reel or getting Robux out of me.
But it’s more than that …
It’s your understanding of who you are, regardless of others influence or pressure.
Your vegetarianism.
Your disinterest in sport.
Your physical and emotional boundaries.
There are adults who haven’t worked that out yet, let alone feel comfortable enough to acknowledge it … but you have and do. It’s amazing.
It’s one of the reasons I have more faith in your generation to take us to a better place, than I do of mine.
And I promise I’ll do my best to stop us fucking it up so you have a chance to make it happen.
Because the greatest gift I could have is to see you grow and blossom for as long as possible.
To be able to watch you discover your life of adventure and fulfilment.
To witness the choices you make for the life you want to create.
That would be everything to me.
Not because I have any expectations, but because I just want to see you live and embrace your life.
I love you so much Otis.
Never stop being just who you are.
The happiest of happy birthday’s to you my wonderful son.
Dad xox
