Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Authenticity, China, Content, Context, Corona Virus, Creativity, Culture, England, Environment, Government, Perspective, Social Media, Technology
So I’m back.
I had a lovely time and Croatia is proper beautiful.
I know that’s a big call given I spent 2½ days there, the rest travelling, but it was.
God I miss travelling.
You’d think after almost 20 years of basically living on an airplane, I’d be over it … but there’s something so magical visiting new places and meeting new people.
Of course the environment is even more important – and COVID has shown we can do a lot without having to be in the same room – however being in another country and culture is a powerful and important experience. Especially given all the nationalistic bullshit going on … so having people engage with each other in different environments and geographies – rather than just stay in their own bubble – is probably better for the state of the World than just keeping to your own shores.
Nothing highlights this more than the paranoia regarding TikTok.
All apps are harvesting data, but because the parent company of TikTok is Chinese, governments and business are telling their employees they can’t have the app on their phone.
And yet TikTok, unlike other social media firms, have not – as far as I understand – been caught using the data in illegal ways. And even if they have, I am sure it’s no where near to the level of other companies that have been caught.
But here we go … the classic racism and prejudice towards China.
I know I’m biased.
I also know China has many issues.
But as I’ve said many times, the actions of other governments are equally as bad … they just hide it better, package it better [if that’s what you can call something as sick as Guantanamo Bay] or use the focus on China to distract people more convincingly.
Then there’s the fact some of the stuff the Chinese Government do get away with – and they do – is other politicians wet dream. Specifically the Republican and Tory parties.
Anyway, I don’t know what the problem is because as you can see from the photo above, if TikTok thinks I’m 15, then the data they’re harvesting is nothing to worry about.
Oh hang on, unless that’s my mental – not physical – age, and then we have a lot to worry about indeed.
Sorry for the rambling, jet lagged, post.
I wish I could say tomorrow will be better, but we all know it won’t be.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, China, Corona Virus, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nottingham, Otis, Parents
The above photo was taken back in 2020.
We were living in Fulham.
Everyone was working from home.
And we suspected Otis may have had COVID.
As it turned out, he didn’t – thankfully.
But I love that photo.
The closeness.
The intimacy.
The caring Mum and the curious kid.
A shared moment ruined by me coming in and taking a pic – as usual, hahaha.
But who can blame me? Those two are everything to me.
And the older I get, the more I realise how much time I didn’t spend with them.
That realisation started with COVID.
While the pandemic was so devastating to so many – it was very good to me.
I got to be with my family for longer than I’d ever been in our time together.
Waking up together.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner together.
Putting Otis to bed and then going to bed with Jill at the same time.
EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Now I know for so many that’s a regular thing but for me it wasn’t and the experience was wonderful and confronting.
Wonderful for how it made me feel. Confronting for how I had allowed that to happen.
Don’t get me wrong … I love work. Or should I say I love parts of work.
And as much as it may not be cool to say anymore, but I loved the travel.
Not being on a plane for the COVID years – bar, moving to NZ – felt like a genuine loss.
Not at first – initially it felt amazing, given how regularly I had been travelling – but after 2+ years, I was ready to hear those engines whir into life. Just not so regularly as I had before … because flying internationally at least once a week, every week for years was just plain idiotic.
And while I don’t want to let all of it go, I have been changing big parts of how I am choosing to live and it all came from something my Dad once said to me.
You see, my Dad had quite an eclectic early professional life.
Not just changing jobs, but whole industries.
I remember asking him why he had done it and he said this:
“I love you and your Mum. So if I’m going to be away from you both for most of the day, I better like what I’m doing because nothing would be so disrespectful as being away for something I hate”
Now I appreciate the privilege in that statement.
There are many who don’t have the opportunity to chase after things that interest them.
And for my Dad, that was enabled by the stability of my brilliant Mum – similar to what Jill has done for me in allowing me to uproot us every few years for an adventure in some other far distant part of the world.
But while I’ve generally enjoyed what I have done … as I get older, it’s becoming more and more apparent that I want to ensure my family is given even greater prioritisation in what I do. That doesn’t mean they weren’t before … but I realise they could have been prioritised a fuck load more.
In some ways, it’s a perfect time for this to happen.
I’m approaching a point in life where some decisions will have to be made regarding my future.
What do I want to do?
Who do I want to do it with – and for?
What do I want to explore, experience and achieve?
Where is the best place for us to be located?
What are the conditions we need to protect what we have?
For me, these are revelation questions.
Previously, I just went with whatever excited/scared me/us the most.
And while this doesn’t mean we’re now happy to settle – because let’s face it, I suck at it, thanks to my only-child inspired, competitive, curious and annoyingly ambitious energy – it does mean these questions ensure my/our decisions are focused on ensuring my family get the best of me, not just what is left of me because the one thing covid taught me is nothing is as important as being together.
It’s pathetic I needed a global pandemic to really drive that home.
But to paraphrase my dad, nothing would be as disrespectful to my family than ignoring what became one of the most precious times of my life with my family.
Thanks to Easter, I get to spend the next 4 days with them … hopefully eating chocolate.
So wherever you are and whoever you’re with, I hope you get to spend it with someone that matters.
Even if that’s just yourself.
Happy holiday … and I apologise for the indulgent, happy-clappy post of today.
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: 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.
Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Food, New Zealand, Nottingham
I am – and have always been – a sentimental fool.
And I appreciate the last couple of weeks have seen me write a bunch of particularly sentimental posts …
Identity.
Belonging.
My childhood in Nottingham.
… and guess what, here’s another one, albeit a slightly more tragic one.
Chips.
No, not the stuff Americans and Kiwis think they are … I mean hot chips.
The stodgy magic you smother in ketchup, mushy peas and gravy.
God I love chips.
British chips.
Golden pillows of burning hot majesty.
Food that fills you up and warms you up.
When I was growing up, you could get chips on almost every corner.
20 pence for a bag of them or a tray of them.
It could be a reward … a celebration … or just a way to bond with your mates.
But it was only when I left the UK that I realised the magic ingredient of chips.
Vinegar.
Specifically malt vinegar.
Specifically Sarson’s malt vinegar.
Acidic drops of heaven … sour death on their own, addictive temptation on chips.
I am still in shock how few people outside the UK like vinegar on their chips. I am horrified at how many look at me with revulsion when I suggest it. But then I also look at these people with pity because they don’t know what they’re talking about and have absolutely zero taste.
Ask me what I’d want as a final meal and after a massive bowl of pasta [olive oil, salt, no sauce – sorry Mum] I’d say a tray of chip shop chips, mushy peas and gravy with some salt and positively drowned in vinegar.
OH. MY. GOD.
You can screw your Michelin restaurants …
And why am I saying all this?
Because like a few weeks ago, when I got some mushy peas I recently got a bottle of Sarson’s.
Oh my god, how happy I was.
Sarson’s … the fluid of fantasticness.
But better yet, it was a present … a present from Jill.
Let me tell you, nothing says love like a bottle of Sarson’s.
So thank you Jill. You may regret your decision, but I’m so grateful for your bad taste.
Literally. Hahaha.