Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Birkenstocks, Colleagues, Confidence, Culture, Daddyhood, Death, Doctor, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fear, Happiness, Health, Jill, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Perspective, Socks
Back in November of last year, I wrote about how I was eating healthy.
It was quite a big thing for me to talk about – which is weird, given I have absolutely no problem writing about death, unemployment or the size of my best friends appendage, to name but a few of the subjects I’ve waxed lyrical about that many smarter people would rather shut-up than share.
But since then, more things have happened and while I genuinely feel uncomfortable to write it, I am also quite proud of myself, so here we go.
You see what happened was back in August, my doctor asked me to spend 3 months focusing on my health. To try and retrain my habits. To make different choices about my diet. To see what might happen by doing it.
And while I’ve been a helpless – and willing – slave to the seductive powers of pasta and sugar for basically my whole life … I decided this was the time I was going to go all in.
So I did.
65g of carbs a day. 25g of sugar a day. 1700 calories a day.
Every day.
And while it was hard at first, once I knew what I could do – and eat – it was satisfying. Well … more satisfying than I imagined. And that only grew when the results of those first 3 months came in.
I’d lost 22kg.
I’d dropped 4 sizes in clothes.
I saw every one of my health measures hit ‘healthy’.
My doctor called to ask if I was OK as the results were so extreme, he thought either the original results were inaccurate or I was doing a different sort of damage to myself.
[For the record, he was wrong on both counts – I was just in a very intimate relationship with chicken and spinach]
And as good as all that was – and it was very good – the biggest change was that I have started to like myself for the first time in a long time.
Yes, I appreciate that sounds tone deaf and dramatic given there are people who face real challenges and problems, whereas I have an amazing family, a wonderful life and lifestyle and a rewarding and fulfilling job … but it’s true.
In my defence, I didn’t really realise it until I started coming out the other side. Mainly because I think the impact was over time … slowly but surely, bit by bit … until at some point, it found a way to settle permenantly just under my surface.
And while it only popped up to mess with me at certain times and moments – and I suspected what may be behind it all – it is only recently that I was able to confirm my concerns about my health, maybe more than my actual health, was the cause of it.
Or should I say, the concerns about my sub-optimal health.
Just to be clear, what I’m talking about is self-esteem.
God it’s a weird thing.
It’s in your power and yet you’re also powerless to it and I felt I was in its grip.Putting me in a corner that I didn’t think I could get out of so I adapted my ways and choices to try and counteract it, without realising I was just giving it more power over me in more ways.
Which is why as I have got more in control of my health, I have felt a bit of a rebirth.
A bit more confidence about what I can do.
A bit more happiness about who I am.
From the superficial to the deeply, deeply personal.
Part of this is because I’m now wearing smaller sized clothes than I have in literally decades and I’m almost ashamed at how much that has affected me. Of course, it’s also bankrupting me as I have to basically buy new t-shirts that no longer look like I’m wearing a man tent dress … but it has changed more than just the size, but what I choose. Because frankly, more things are now available to me and so I’m experimenting with clothes like I’m a 10 year old kid. Well, I say experimenting, but it really has come down to a few t-shirts in colours that aren’t black and some socks [which is, let’s be honest, already a shock given my Birkenstock obsession] in a range of ridiculous colours. Fuck, I even colour coded my t-shirt and socks once … something never ever done in my life. And – to be honest – never to be done again.
But it is in terms of my family that I am the most indebted.
Because I’ve likely increased the time I’ll be here for my wife and son.
OK, so there wasn’t a identified risk that was going to cut it short … but health is always going to make it last longer and that means everything to me.
Because I love my family.
Love every little thing about them.
Of course they can annoy the fuck out of me, but I am sure I am far worse to them – even though this shocks me as I’m obviously a saint.
But as my son is just 9, I want to be around for as long as I can. I want to see the life he builds, I want to be there for the choices he wants to make. I want to just be in his life and have him in mine for as long as possible. With my wonderful wife by my side. Building new adventures and sharing them. Together.
Now I appreciate that all sounds very Hallmark card … but I do, that’s maybe all I want in some ways … and I’d be denying the truth if I said I hadn’t wondered if this was going to be as possible as I hoped it would be.
And yet … I felt it was an impossible situation to change.
I wanted it.
I knew what could help it.
But I didn’t have the skills or the energy or the willpower. Always having an excuse why I couldn’t dedicate the time and energy to it. Which is mad given I have a fuck-ton of energy and willpower to do a bunch of other stuff … but I had convinced myself that I’d met my match and so that affected me deeply in my head. Loving my family but not knowing how to make sure that love could be around for longer.
I know, it sounds pathetic, but I bet I am not the only one who has faced this psychological prison. And just to be clear, it’s not that I hadn’t tried things to change it. I had. And failed … over and over again. Which not only made me feel a bit more shit about myself, but also convinced myself I was not going to win this battle.
Which is why the pride Otis has in what I’ve done that makes me almost cry with joy. And what breaks my heart is that he obviously had the same worries about how long I’d be around. Not overtly. Not daily. But he tells me how proud he is of me and how happy he is I’m ‘healthy’ … and so while no one knows when the ‘end day’ will come, removing some of the more blatant concerns that it could be sooner than you hope, is a psychological gift in itself.
Now I am not going to say if I can do it, anyone can.
I couldn’t do it for 53 years and you don’t have to be healthy to be happy.
I hate that attitude.
And I was happy … I’m just saying I’m happier now.
With myself.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t have issues – I do, bloody loads of them – but it means I have less than I’ve been carrying, which is nice.
In fact, as of today, I have 30kg less problems I’m carrying – ha.
But let’s not ignore the reality that doing this is really fucking hard – especially at the start – and I needed a Doctor to basically scare me into it and needed to actively choose to not make excuses for not sticking with it. Which is why if anyone resonates with my story and wants to chat about their situation – or what I did to try and get out of it – then just get in touch and I’ll listen and share.
While there is a conscious mental decision to be made, at its heart it’s simply about food choices and portion choices. Oh, and investment … both in time and – sadly – money.
Because it’s a privilege to be able to do this, because – ironically – eating less costs more. Or it does if you want to make it easier.
But the good news is there’s choices that actually are good … and you’re talking to someone who thinks kebab and chips is fine dining. So if you want to know more, I’ll tell you what worked for me and how I did it and then you can decide what’s right for you.
Which leaves me to say a huge thanks to my family, doctor, clients, colleagues and whoever the fuck invented 99% sugar free buffalo sauce … because they made this happen. They made this possible,
And while I may fuck up occasionally, I now know I won’t fuck up every single mealtime and that’s a win in my book, because this journey has taught me things about myself and my habits that have been a revelation.
In fact the only thing I am disappointed about is I’ve still not used the overpriced bloody treadmill I bought. Though I’m glad I got the cool, foldable, wifi and bluetooth enabled one … which means there’s some things about me that will never change.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Confidence, Men, Stupid
A while ago, I saw the wonderful Iain Tait post this on his insta.
God I laughed,
In many ways, it encapsulates the over-confident male.
The one who thinks they can deal with anything and everything. From DIY to Corporate Espionage … and anything in-between.
Which means I’m talking about 99% of all men.
Including me.
I discovered this disease when I was in my early teens and started playing the guitar.
I had a very shitty Fender Strat copy … and yet, despite not even having played enough to earn callouses on my fingertips, I decided I had the skills to take it apart to reset the neck.
As crap as that guitar was, it did not need it’s neck resetting.
Breaking maybe, but not resetting.
What made this decision even worse is that the last time I attempted any sort of DIY – at my school woodwork class – I managed to basically saw my finger off. Like properly through the finger. Which my best friend Paul, thought could be put back together by just shoving a plaster on it. Despite it spurting with blood. Until sane adults saw it and sent me to hospital.
The scar is still there …
But did the trauma of that memory stop me?
Of course it didn’t.
You see the way karma works is it not only makes you forget your past mistakes, it actively lulls you into a false sense of security.
Because it makes the first half of whatever the fuck you’re doing, feel dead easy.
And within seconds of starting, you think you’re a natural.
A master.
Hell … you start believing you could become a millionaire from doing it for others.
So you carry on, with a devil-may-care attitude and it’s that exact point, it decides to strike.
I still remember holding the neck of the guitar in one hand and the body of it in the other and wondering how the fuck I was going to reconnect those 2 parts.
Nothing seemed to fit.
It was like one piece had grown and the other had shrunk and were now sworn enemies.
I also remember losing screws and spending ages rubbing my hand back and forth over the carpet hoping I’d feel it and find it.
I didn’t.
They’re probably still in there. Somewhere.
And that was my first lesson in discovering the male brain is a massive bullshitter.
Over the years it’s tricked me a few more times.
Once it convinced me I could jump over 12 of my mates lying down on the ground while I rode my bike – the incredibly heavy Raleigh Grifter – as fast as I could to hit a ramp that was made up of some bricks and a piece of wood [result: Colin Bowler has never had children] or the time it encouraged me to buy a BBQ and invite friends over that evening to christen it [result: I somehow built it back to front and almost blew everyone up when I turned the gas on] and then there was the time is hyped me up to detail my car [result: a $1000 bill for adding scratches rather than removing them]
And while I’ve accepted I need to ignore the over-confidence that is a part of the male psyche, it still occasionally shows its power – just to remind me not to get any big ideas – though fortunately it’s more about me stupidly believing I can write a presentation … or a brief … or do a project in a fraction of the time than it actually takes me.
Or said another way, it has evolved from me breaking my possessions, to me breaking promises to my clients and colleagues.
Which is why that pic from Iain Tait really resonated with me. Not just for the laugh, but for the reminder the male brain can be a dangerous and stupid weapon.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Context, Emotion, Friendship, Love, Mum, My Childhood, Parents, Paul, Television
I know, the title of this post must freak you out.
Frankly, it freaks me out as well.
Seriously … what is going on?
First I have lost a ton of weight.
Then I have started wearing shoes. AND SOCKS. COLOURFUL SOCKS.
And now I’m being positive? What the absolute fuck?!
The good news is all you have to do is look at the posts of last week and see that my default remains a sentimental, sarcastic, mischievous piece of shit.
Thank God.
But today is about being nice … and let’s face it, we all need it on a Monday.
So as a kid, I grew up watching the TV show, ‘Happy Days‘.
Many of you who read this blog – if there’s any of you – may be too young to know what the hell I’m talking about, but if you recognise the picture at the top of this post, or the name ‘The Fonz’, then that’s what I’m talking about.
While Happy Days was set in the 50’s, it was from America [which immediately made it cool in my eyes] and bridged the gap between kid and adult entertainment.
I used to watch it with my Mum and I still remember one episode where she laughed at a scene in the restaurant to the point tears were rolling from her eyes.
For that alone it would always have a place in my heart … but the reality is, like The Wonder Years that came along later, it was about relationships.
Relationships with family … friends … maturity … individuality … responsibility and life.
Sure, it did all this in a more light hearted, less poignant way than Wonder Years … but it was still there and I loved it.
The reason I am saying this is because of this …
That picture features one of the characters from Happy Days called, Potsie.
He was a funny character … good natured, enthusiastic but also undeniably naive.
Anyway, the photo shows him – aged 73 – getting married.
If that wasn’t lovely enough, he had recently beaten cancer, so it was a double celebration.
But even those 2 pieces of brilliant news aren’t the reason I love this photo so much.
The reason is that the other man in the photo, is his best friend Don Most … who was also his best friend in Happy Days when he played the character Ralph.
This news made me happier than I ever imagined.
Sure, I’m a sentimental old fart … but I was quite emotional reading this.
Maybe it’s because I am about as far away as I have ever been from my best mate, Paul.
Maybe it’s because the conflict in every aspect of life is starting to get me down.
Maybe it’s because it connects me to the times I would watch that show sat next to Mum.
Or maybe it’s just because it’s lovely and reassuring to see that good, gentle and long-lasting things can still happen – but whatever the reason, seeing ‘Potsie’ happy in love, life and health has also made me very happy.
Especially for a Monday, when it’s needed most.
Now let’s hope tomorrow sees me getting back to my usual cynical-bastard-self … because I can’t deal with this sickening level of positivity either.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Brand Suicide, Business, Communication Strategy, Complicity, Corporate Evil
So this is the last post of my first week of writing them in 2024.
And what a rollercoaster its been …
Loss.
Love.
Life.
Standards.
Mischief.
Well, I thought I’d top it off with a post about stupidity.
Corporate stupidity.
Last year, I read an article that said the movie company, Warner Bros, was reportedly shelving the completed John Cena film ‘Coyote vs Acme’ and would take an estimated $30m tax write-down from the $70m cost.
Or said another way, they had chosen to lose US$40 million dollars.
This was after they also cancelled the release of the $40m sequel ‘Scoob! Holiday Haunt’ film and announced they’d lost $417 million in the last quarter.
What makes this even more bizarre is that in testing the movie, Coyote vs Acme rated at a level that tends to suggest a strong level of success.
It’s so baffling … to the point that even the writer/director Brian Duffield – of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – tweeted:
“I have seen this movie and it is excellent. It also tested in the high 90s repeatedly. It also had interested buyers. The people working at Warner Bros are anti-art and I hope multiple anvils drop on their heads.”
Now I don’t know what the real reasons for this decision are.
Maybe there’s a whole of complications that – on disclosure – will make it make sense.
However – and it’s a big however – if a company loses a total of almost half a billion dollars IN A QUARTER … then their ability to be trusted to make smart decisions is pretty much over.
And here lies the ridiculousness of business …
Someone will get a bonus because of this.
It’s similar to the time Citibank fired 50,000 employees and their share price went up in value … despite the fact that [1] they no longer had the people to offer a satisfactory banking service to their customers and/or [2] if they could, then the people who fired them were also complicit in hiring that many in the first place.
Putting aside the fact defining ‘Coyote vs Acme’ as art is a bit of a stretch [though I appreciate it’s an art form] … I totally understand why director Brian Duffield claims Warner Bros are anti-art … even though I would suspect they’re even more guilty of being anti-common sense.
_______________________________________________________
PS: For those who haven’t got the faintest idea who the Thora Hird referred to in the title of this post is, you can check out the brilliant woman here. And just to be clear, her reference to ‘queer’ was about general human quirks … it was not a reference in any way to the LGBTQ+ community. Both because that was not a known terminology back in her day and she was not criticising it, just highlighting we’re all different and that’s what makes us, us.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Apple, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Experience, Positioning, Resonance, Standards, Status, Stubborness
Over the years I’ve written a lot about the importance of craft.
About taking pride in doing the right thing, not the easiest.
Sweating the details, not just the obvious stuff.
Caring about how you do something as much as what you do.
And yet, despite so many companies talking big about how they’re a ‘premium brand’, it is amazing how a closer inspection, their actions and values reveal something else.
At least where craft is concerned.
Instead, everything they do is evaluated purely by their ability to design, manufacture and scale down to a price point rather than up to a definitive and differentiated standard.
It’s like their attitude is craft is vanity, cost is sanity.
And while the cost element is important, the irony is craft attracts profit, rather costs it.
Even more ironic is that it can do this without needing to make a big deal out of it … because to the people behind it, it’s not a big deal. For them, it’s simply about living up to the standards their brand deserves/expects through the professionalism and passion they live by.
Now I appreciate that may sound – at best – counter-intuitive and – at worst – pretentious as fuck. But the reality is that to the people who buy what they make, they can sense it.
And I say ‘sense’ because sometimes it’s literally a feeling.
A feeling everything has been deliberate, considered and fussed over.
It might be the materials.
Or it might be the packaging.
It may even be a tiny detail they don’t even see until someone else notices it.
A great example of that last point is this from PlayStation.
I love this.
I love it with all my heart.
Many would never know it. Many may not even feel it.
But when they eventually discover it … it will change how they feel about it.
Reinforcing what makes this brand special. How much it cares about standards. And who it is.
But even if that doesn’t happen, it is OK.
Because often this is not done to benefit the end customer, but to satisfy the values and standards of the creator.
And far too often, that attitude is viewed as an indulgent expense when the reality is, it’s the greatest investment you can make in helping create who you can become.
Which is why Steve Jobs talked about the importance of ‘painting behind the fence’.
Or in the case of Playstation, texturing behind the controller.