Filed under: Age, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Cats, China, Death, England, Family, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Otis, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore
I want to apologise to someone.
Her name is Denise and I worked with her for a few months back in 1996.
While I don’t remember much about her, I do remember this …
1. She was a freelance media strategist.
2. She was a wonderful human.
3. She had amazing ginger hair.
4. She loved her cat.
The reason I want to apologise is that one day, we heard she wasn’t coming into work for the week because her cat had passed away. And frankly, I was a prick. Not because I said anything to her or about her – but because I distinctly remember thinking her reaction was a bit extreme.
A week off?
For a cat!
But of course it wasn’t just ‘a cat’ and it wasn’t just ‘a pet’. It was family.
I know some people may think calling a pet, ‘family’ is a silly statement to make … but unless your pet is a ‘working animal’, I can only imagine the reason you think that way is because of how you treat it, rather than how it treats you.
Because pets love you.
And they want you to love them.
Sure, they show it in a myriad of ways, but to them – you’re most definitely family.
Even those independent, demanding, constantly judging beasts-on-four-legs known as cats.
They may make you work hard for affection.
They may turn their back the moment they get what they want.
But they love you … almost as much as you will likely love them.
So why do I want to apologise 28 years later to a person I have no knowledge of where they’re at and who I only knew fleetingly?
Well, even though the moment I had that thought I was angry at myself for how fucked-up selfish I’d been letting that thought enter my head even for a second, I want to apologise because it breaks my heart to say I now have first-hand experience how losing your precious pet feels because earlier today, we had to say goodbye to our wonderful, cranky, seven-country-living, Singaporean street cat: Rosie.
We’re all devastated.
Totally adrift in grief.
And even though we know she had an amazing 17 years of pampered, spoilt, and deeply-loved-and-cared-for life – which is much, much longer than the average tenure of a street cat [which is 2 years] – it still doesn’t feel long enough.
No where close.
While she’d had a kidney problem for a long time – as well as some arthritis in her back – it was being managed by a special diet and us putting little steps around the house so she could climb on whatever she wanted. But that aside, she was generally in good health. In fact it wasn’t that long ago the vets were surprised how old she was as she seemed so much younger in her spirit and overall well-being. And over these 17 years, there had only ever been one occasion where she had become properly ill so she was a strong little thing.
But then one day recently – about a month ago – things changed dramatically and suddenly.
Loss of appetite. Her meow sounded like she was smoking 70 cigarettes a day and she was restless. The vet had given her an injection to relieve the arthritis pain and some meds to help with her kidneys and it worked for a few days but – even though her spirit, meow, calmness and complaining returned with gusto – her loss of appetite kicked in again.
We took her back to the vet and her blood test showed a huge decline in her kidneys function – far more in a month than we’d seen in almost a decade – so we took her to the cat hospital for a few days to see if more intense treatment could help.
It was very sad in our house because while we hoped for the best, we feared for the worst.
For me, it all felt a bit like the last days of my Dad. I described it at the time of someone walking around their big, old house and closing all the windows, turning off the lights, closing the doors. One by one. Bit by bit. Getting ready to depart for the last time.
And that’s what it felt Rosie was doing.
Still loving – in her own, unique way – but spending more time in her own world.
Ironically, in the days leading up to her going into the hospital, she was more loving than maybe she’d ever before. Wanting us to wrap our arm around her while she slept next to us in bed rather than adopt her normal practice of balancing precariously on our hip. Like she was trying to say goodbye. A final loving cuddle. I even thought that at the time but I tried to put that idea out of my mind, not wanting to contemplate it or consider it in case I tempted fate. But the reality is, I knew things had changed and nothing reaffirmed that more than when we went to see her in the hospital and it was obvious the treatment wasn’t working.
She was happy we were there.
She came out for a cuddle and a brush.
But she was not great. Not just because of the sedatives, but because she was not well.
And maybe, that was the first time, we accepted we had to make a decision.
A decision no one wants to make.
A decision where you actively have to fight your instinct to be selfish and keep them around.
But while she was not in pain, her lack of eating – and the increasing effects of her kidney disease – meant she was getting very thin and her quality of life was starting to be impacted and that was the very last thing we would ever want for her. Would ever do to her. So after a call from the hospital, we brought her home today, Monday 12th, … spoiling her with love, kisses, brushes and walking her all around the house, including the deck outside, where she loved to be for hours, in the sun, in nature, watching the birds fly by … before gently letting her go this afternoon, at 2:15pm, surrounded by us by her side.
And we’re inconsolable …
For her loss and the feeling of confusion and pain we felt making this decision.
Knowing it was the right thing for her, but hating it at the same time … all while trying to fight off the feelings of guilt that we knew when her last day would be, before her.
And even though it honestly feels like she knew it was time and wanted it to be, it still feels so wrong and hurts so deeply … to the point I feel sick thinking about it, physically sick. That’s how much our wonderful little Rosie meant to all of us.
I mean Otis had had her in his life, his whole life.
Even my Mum had met Rosie, that’s how long she’d been part of our family unit.
Hell, anyone who has read this blog at anytime over the past 17 years, would know her as she made her first appearance within days of her coming into our lives.
And yet for someone so small, it’s amazing how much she filled our house.
Her presence. Her sounds. The little signs she left to make sure we knew this was ‘her house’.
Without her, it all feels quieter, emptier, less welcoming now.
Every corner reminds us of her. Every little place and piece.
Of all the places she lived – and there were a lot, from being a street cat in Singapore to HK, China, America and the UK – she loved this place most.
She loved the peace, the nature, the hiding places and the opportunity to run out the front door when we would come in and then annoyingly sit under my car until finally being tempted out with Friskies.
In fact, to remember her we’re going to make a decal of her, as mocked up above, that we’ll place on the window at the side of our front door. The place where she would come sit, meow and greet us whenever she heard our cars come down the drive. And we’ll also scatter some of her ashes in the trees she loved to look at from the deck at our house as well as get another tattoo in her honour to go with the one I’ve got of her nose and whiskers from years ago.
If you think this is all a bit over-the-top, I don’t care … because I cannot put into words how much I loved that cat.
I cannot tell you how grateful I am to Jill for finding her and bringing her into our life.
And while she was my first proper pet, she was more than that to me.
She was a member of my family.
Crazy I know, but she was.
Hell, I even turned down a job – ironically at Colenso – because of her. Well, partly because of her, because the New Zealand authorities wouldn’t let people based in China bring their pets to the country. Fortunately, having moved from China to the US and the UK, it was all good.
In many ways, I don’t want to end this post because then it means it’s final. Official. The end. And while I know her memory will stay with me/us forever, the reality is our wonderful Rosie has gone. Which is why I end the last post for this week with this …
Rosie. I love you.
You made an old man very happy – even when you made me bloody annoyed.
Like the time you broke my brand new X-Box. Or destroyed that expensive lamp.
But you always did it with style.
Just like the way you would find new places to hide.
Giving me a heart attack thinking you’d got out and run away.
Like when you made Jill climb up onto the roof of a block of flats in London … only for you to be found an hour later sleeping in our wardrobe, having purposefully stayed quiet while watching us run frantically around, shaking a bag of treats shouting, “Rosie, where are you?”
I am so grateful for all you were.
I am so glad we could give you the most loving of homes.
But most of all, I’m so grateful for all we were together.
We’ll never forget you.
Please don’t forget us.
And please forgive us.
Because we love you so much.
Always will.
Thank you for everything you gave to us.
We send you off with hugs, kisses, brushes and Friskies.
Sleep well our dear Rosie.
Sleep well.
Rosie. 1st July 2007- 12th August 2024.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Apple, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Loyalty, Management, Wieden+Kennedy
I’ve written a lot about office culture in the past.
Like here. And here … to name but two.
I’ve talked about how I was deeply skeptical of companies who claimed it until I worked at Wieden.
Mainly because that was the only place where I felt they truly had one.
Shaped by the philosophies of Dan and Dave but evolved by the people in the agency.
Born rather than planned.
A byproduct of the people in the place, not a mandate from the people running the place.
A culture that created the identity of the work but also held people to account for what they did and contributed.
Some people hated it.
Some people were made by it.
I was definitely in the latter camp … but recently I saw a quote that kind of summed up why I thought it was so good.
“Culture is the worst behaviour management will tolerate”
I love it.
I love it because it represents what culture is.
Not Hallmark Card happiness, but a mishmash of weird and wonderful.
Where people are allowed to be themselves but everyone knows what they’re there to do.
Wieden was great at it … giving freedom to people to express who they are, however weird it was. Or should I say, however weird they are.
Because the main thing was as long as it was serving the work – and not damaging others – they were OK with it.
In fact I once asked what it took to be fired from the place given all the ‘unique’ things I had seen. OK, that I had personally done and got away with … to which the answer was, “it happens if you don’t care about the work and don’t push to keep making the best work of your life”.
That – ladies and gentleman – is culture.
Not beanbags or dress down Friday … but self-created, self-policed expression.
But that self-policed bit is important.
Because as much as Wieden felt like an art school a lot of the time, people knew was only possible if people respected the freedom they were given and trusted to embrace. Anyone who took the piss was often dealt with by the people in the place. Not to put them down or dictate how they should behave … but to ensure they knew the responsibility they had in maintaining the openness everyone else got to enjoy.
Which is why you can’t plan culture, you can just create the conditions for it.
And that’s what separates those who get it and those who don’t. Who can’t.
Which is why writing this post today is especially appropriate given it’s Colenso’s founders day.
A day where the agency shuts its doors so the people inside can go and play.
Because Colenso is another agency who ensure creativity always wins.
It has – and does – continually do it, regardless of employees, leadership or client.
And in Colenso’s case, we’ve been doing it for over 5 decades.
Because there’s something in the water of the place.
Let’s be honest, any individual or company can have a good year or two … but only those who have a true creative culture get to perform at that level for so long.
Of course that doesn’t mean other agencies are bad – far from it – but it does mean many are in the business of trading creativity whereas some are actually believers in the power and creation of it.
Filed under: Comment
Just a little over 4 years ago, I wrote this post to accompany this photo.
It was me announcing I’d been made redundant by R/GA.
In the post, I covered a lot of things.
How I was genuinely happy it was me, rather than the people who often end up being the ones affected in these horrible shitshows. How – by announcing I was ‘available’ – I hoped I could stop some of the shame associated with being made redundant … often perpetuated by the organisation who let you go so you keep quiet and they can protect their ‘reputation’. And how I was genuinely hopeful and optimistic about what the future may hold, with some reasons to explain why this wasn’t blind optimism.
And 4 years down the road, I stand by every word I wrote.
Sure, I appreciate that – apart from the Red Hot Chili Peppers fiasco – everything has turned out pretty amazing, so that may influence my judgement. But at the time of writing it, I didn’t know any of the stuff that has happened to me/us was going to happen so I feel/hope whatever the outcome, I’d still think that way.
Don’t get me wrong, redundancy sucks.
It’s hard, it’s challenging and it’s confronting.
I also appreciate I was in a position of huge privilege compared to many, and had my situation elevated and amplified by The Guardian Newspaper when they did a piece on me because, at the time, I was apparently one of the first people trumpeting their redundancy.
But while 4 years and 2 Cannes Grand Prix’s later, I’m in the ridiculously lucky position of living a life that’s arguably even more fulfilling than the life I had before, a friend of mine recently told me something that ensured I’d feel OK with things even if that wasn’t the case.
Well, at least feel ‘better’ about things.
You see my mate went through a similar situation as me at around the same time as me.
Except where R/GA were relatively fair to me – with some pretty major caveats, hahaha – his company were absolutely bastards to him.
Actively encouraging the perception he’d contributed to his redundancy due to failings as an employee and as a person … then double downing on it by coming out in the press to say “they were a fitter and healthier company having restructured the inefficiencies out of the business”.
The motherfuckers.
Given this all happened when COVID was in full swing and the damage they contributed to his confidence, mental health and reputation were huge – taking a good 2+ years to feel strong enough to face the World again.
But it was during this time he sought out help from a therapist who asked him one question that was the trigger to a major breakthrough for him and it was this:
“How many rounds of redundancy have they had since you?”
He didn’t know.
And he didn’t know why it mattered until he looked into it.
They’d had 6.
SIX!!! In about 3 years.
To which the therapist pointed out this was proof his redundancy was more about his bosses failings to run a business than anything to do with him. And while he knew there are many factors that force a company to have to ‘reorg’ – many outside of their control – it still helped. In fact it helped him a lot. Because he finally saw the people who were so happy to discard him and harm him were the ones who were inadequate. And while it was not fair they kept their job and income while they ruined others … he could point to them as the real failures rather than continue to put it all on himself.
So if you’re going through a similar situation, try to remember 2 things.
1. It’s not your fault.
2. It does get better.
And if you can’t – or if you need someone to talk to about what you’re going through – then know that while I can’t solve your situation, I am a good listener.
So till then, look after yourself.
Filed under: Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Collaboration, Colleagues, Comment, Complicity, Context, Corporate Evil, Culture, Differentiation, Diversity, Equality
Yes, I’m back. Kinda.
A storm in New York meant I missed my connecting flight to Auckland so ended up in Houston.
But if that wasn’t a big enough come down, maybe the hotel I found to spend the night was …
Because in NYC, I stayed in the utterly swank Crosby Street Hotel in Soho, in a room that – as a friend described – as “main character, intimidating-as-fuck, energy”.
Look at it!
How bloody New York awesome it is?
I got to spend 4 nights in that bloody gorgeous room and while I should have left on a cloud of joy and happiness, I found myself – just 12 hours later – in a room that I described to Jill as “the sort of place that could double as a crime scene in an episode of CSI. Houston Airport edition.”
There are 2 especially amazing things about that room.
The first is it wasn’t exactly cheap.
Sure, it was a lot cheaper than the Crosby Street Hotel, but when you take into account the city it was in and the location in the city that it was in … then the proportional difference in cost between the two, wasn’t much at all.
Or said another way, certainly not enough difference, hahaha.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with dodgy hotels – hell, I’ve stayed in enough of them in my time and they’re my ‘go-to’ when I’m footing the bill, but this was dodgy but at a premium[ish] price.
What’s funny is that when I saw it advertised – basically as the only hotel available at 11pm at night, when I got in, it was labelled as ****.
Naturally I assumed **** was its hotel rating, but as soon as I walked in, I realised it was actually just blanking out the word ‘SHIT’, hahaha.
Anyway, I survived and got back to NZ at 5am this morning – so this is the most up to date post I’ve ever written.
But it will also be the last post till Thursday as I now have to fly to Australia for a couple of days – so with that in mind, I’m going to leave you with the post I originally wrote to be shown today, mainly because I’m already tired of this post and I can’t be bothered to type anymore.
So until Thursday, let me ‘welcome you back’ with the first of my ‘piss and vinegar’ posts for this week.
The photo above is from a trip to Memphis – or more specifically, Memphis – way back in 2006 … and while it is both alarming and amusing that the local council seem to hate anything on wheels or 4 legs … I can’t help but feel this is a perfect metaphor for how many companies hire these days.
For all the conversations about diversity … conformity prevails.
Not just in terms of heritage, but backgrounds, interests, education.
A production line of parity.
But the really fucked-up bit is I believe many companies do want to ‘evolve’. They just can’t.
Or should I say, they just can’t help themselves stopping themselves from doing it.
So what happens is they do hire people who are different to everyone else in the company, however – if they then don’t conform to how the majority behave – they get let go for “not being the right cultural fit”.
In essence, they’re fired for being exactly who they were hired to be.
In nature, there’s this thing called ‘the edge effect’. It’s basically where different eco-systems – often found at the ‘edge’ of natural habitats – merge together and create something new. New possibilities created by new combinations. Evolution created by the acceptance of possibilities rather than the denial of them.
This is basically why we – as in, ‘humans’ – are still around, because despite humans giving it our best shot to kill the planet … nature keeps evolving to find ways to beat our bollocks.
In essence, it is constantly growing, evolving, adapting, and creating.
But in many companies today, they have adopted an opposing view.
More focused on denial, destruction, distain and dismissal.
In Japan there’s an old saying that goes, ‘the nail that sticks out gets hammered down’
Sadly, in a lot of companies, anyone who stands out does not even get viewed as a number anymore. Instead, they’re a nail to be beaten down by a bunch of tools … and when I say ‘tools’, I mean that literally and metaphorically.
See you Thursday, which will be before my family get to see me. You lucky people.
Ahem.