The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


Drummers Are Animals …
July 26, 2021, 8:00 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Birthday, Cars, Comment, Creativity, Queen

In rock bands, the drummer is always seen as the crazy one.

The one who would throw a television out of a hotel window.
The one who would be the first to throw their head into drugs.
The one who would blow all their cash on fast cars and stupid houses.

And is it a stereotype?

Yep …

OK, so there were some high profile drummers who lived this life – Keith Moon of The Who, John Bonham of Led Zeppelin and Steven Adler of Guns n’ Roses to name but three – but the reality is this idea of ‘drummer crazy’ likely got burned in people’s consciousness thanks to Animal from the Muppets, the stories of the numerous drummers in the brilliant rockumentary, Spinal Tap and the fact drummers smack the shit out of things for hours on end as their form of musical expression.

But there is one drummer who seems to have a brilliant middle ground between crazy and cool and that’s Queen drummer Roger Taylor.

Not to be mistaken with the drummer of Duran Duran drummer who has the same name … Roger was always the most ‘rock star’ of the band.

Not just because he played the drums – though he did play drum solo’s in the early 80’s featuring timpani drums and a bloody enormous gong – but because he has a long history of buying and crashing exceedingly fast cars and big houses – not to mention having a vast number of relationships with a cavalcade of beautiful and intelligent women.

Hell, he even once wrote a song called, I’m in love with my car.

But while that might represent the wild side of rock n’ roll, the cool side is he’s a batchelor of science, a devoted father of 5 [of which one, Rory, was my doctor in England] a well regarded music producer and composer, passionately committed to preserving the legacy of Freddie, creator of a range of Taylored By London merchandise and still touring the globe playing sold out stadiums as the drummer of Queen.

He turns 72 today.

SEVENTY BLOODY TWO.

And while my loyalty will always be more towards Brian than Rog … the fact he is the drummer of my favourite band, has the same name as my wonderful Dad and is still cooler as a 72 year old than many ‘stars’ who are a 1/3rd of his age, he gets my best wishes and thanks.

Happy birthday Mr Taylor.

To celebrate, here are 3 videos that show the best of him.

The first is the insane drum solo he did when Queen were at their musical and performance peak. The second is him singing I’m In Love With My Car in concert. And the last is the drum solo battle he had with his son – Rufus – on the last Queen + Adam Lambert tour.



A Year Like No Other …

So this is it. The final post of 2020.

Congratulations on making it to here. Especially after a year like this one.

I have to say it feels kind-of bitter sweet for me, because as I’ve written before – this year has been pretty special for me and my family.

Sure I turned 50.

Sure, Forest still fucked up the promotion hopes they’d held onto all season in the last 15 minutes of the last game of the whole season.

And sure I lost my job

But even though they’re all pains in the arse, compared to what others have – and are – suffering, it was nothing. Hell, even turning 50 gave me the chance to do this.

When I originally wrote this post, I’d listed all the things that had happened to me this year.

It was a very, very long list.

And while I am super grateful for each and every one of those things – from new jobs to new houses to family happiness to Paul doing Frothy Coffee full time – it just felt wrong.

Not just because there’s a whole host of people going through a terribly shit time right now. Nor the fact I’m a over the self-promoting, self-congratulatory, soapbox shouting by people on social media. Or even because the brilliant Mr Weigel wrote it better than I ever could achieve [as usual] … but because of something I read in The Guardian Newspaper a few weeks ago.

Specifically the very first sentence.

Which was – utterly bizarrely – about me.

No seriously, and it went like this.

On a sunny Tuesday afternoon in July, Rob Campbell, 50, received a Zoom call from his boss at the advertising firm where he worked as a head of strategy.

When I read it, the number 50 stood out.

Like it was 50 stories high.

It confused and confronted me.

Part of it was because I don’t think I am that age.

Part of it is knowing I am.

And maybe it was at that point I realised just how lucky I am.

Not that I was naive to it before, but it became more apparent.

Because losing your job at 50 is shit.

It doesn’t mean it’s all over, but it’s unusual to have so many good things happen and frankly, it all made me feel a bit embarrassed which is why I deleted the list of stuff.

It happened. I just don’t need to share it because I lived it.

And while it would only have been there to act as a reminder of all that happened should I – or Otis, later in his life – wanted to jog our memory about it, the spirit of this post and those before it say all that needs to be said.

So instead, I want to use the rest of this post to say thank you.

There’s so many people I am grateful to have in my life.

So many people who made the worst year, in many respects, one of my best.

People on here.
People in the industry – some I knew, some I didn’t.
People who just read my instagram and got in touch.

You may not realise it, but it made a huge difference to how I saw the future.

Then there is my amazing family. Their unconditional belief and support meant I never had to panic. I never had to worry. I mean, I did have moments of it – but that was all because of me, never them. Jill never expressed concern. She gave me confidence by simply being confident in me so the whole experience never felt scary – which is incredible when you think about it. Then there’s Otis. God, I love that kid. Seeing him come home from his new teeny-tiny school in the country filled with stories and giggles meant the house never had a chance to feel bad.

My mates were ace. A check-in here, a word of advice there, a dollop of pisstaking and a whole lot of love. They ensured I never felt alone, and while I was perfectly fine with the situation I found myself in, they made sure I stayed perfectly fine with the situation I found myself in.

Of course I can’t forget my old colleagues. Not just from R/GA … but also Deutsch, Wieden+Kennedy and Cynic. So many got in touch. Offered to help. Made me laugh. They didn’t have to do that – especially the way I had treated them when we worked together, hahaha – but they did and it meant more to me than they may ever know.

I want to give a particular shout out to Blake Harrop.

Not only is he the most handsome, clever man in the whole universe but he is also the MD of Wieden Amsterdam.

When he heard what had happened, he sent me an absolutely epic note. I’ve always regarded him as a special man, but this just took it to another level and I will keep that note forever.

And then my clients.

Past. Sort-of present. And now, future.

Fuck me … what an impact they had on my confidence.

Not just in their kind words, but in their actions. Signing long-term contracts, introducing me to others and – in the case of two in particular – collaborating with me to start Uncorporated. As I’ve noted in other posts, the work it has let me be a part of is unprecedented and I cannot say thank you to them enough.

Finally to the wonderful folk at Colenso.

To have one of the agencies I’ave always loved reach out and ask me to join them was simply the icing on the cake. They were open, warm, encouraging and honest throughout the process before topping it off with most well written job offer letter I’ve received in my life. Seriously, it was a work of art and if there was an award show for this sort of thing, it would be a Black Pencil winner for sure. I can’t thank Scott and the team enough for the opportunity to play with them and I can’t wait to be there in March and cause some trouble.

What all this means is that I have been surrounded by wonderful people.

Not just the ones I know, but people who just reached out to see if they could help.

I don’t know what I have done to deserve it all to be honest [it must be Jill and Otis] but I totally get why people say it’s better to be lucky than rich.

So to each and every one of you, I want to say thank you.

Jill, Otis, Paul, Michelle, Mr Weigel, Mercedes, Paula Bloodworth, David Lin, Carina, Winson and Wanshi, Nils, my wonderful old planning team at R/GA London, Lesley Cheng, Ryan and Sam, Mike and Sam, Trudie, Matt Tanter, Group Think, Scott and Levi and all at Colenso, Blake Harrop, Karrelle Dixon, John Rowe, Mr Ji, Richard Green, everyone at Q-Prime, Metallica, RHCP, Richard David James, Paul Colman, Flash, Rodion, Charinee, Debbie, Leon, Jorge Calleja, George, Andy, Baz, Lee Hill, Simon Pestridge, Steve Tsoi and PT Black, Patrick the Dirty Ram fan, Michael Roberts, Ben Major, Holly Day, Lindsey Evans, Dan Hill, Rach Mercer, Donn the grandpa jumper wearer, Ben Perreira, Maya, Chelsea, Bree, James Thorpe, Lani, Tarik at Onroad, Leigh, Nic Owen, Bassot, Judd Caraway, Gareth Kay, Pickens, Wes, Hoala, Brixton Finishing School, Mark Lester, Ros and Hiro, Lea Walker, Phil Jacobson, Maria Correa, Sam Clohesy, Ian Preston, Doddsy, Lee Hill, the inspirational Murray Calder, Wendy Clark and every single person who has insulted, laughed or ridiculed me on here.

While I am sure I’ve forgotten some names, I assure you I haven’t forgotten your kindness.

To be able to have all this at 50, in one of the worst years the World has seen is insane. I definitely feel some guilt over it so I hope that in 2021, everyone out there gets lucky … and if I can do anything to help that, give me a shout – because it COVID has reminded me of one thing, we’re better together than separate.

May you all have an amazing holiday season. Or as amazing as it can be.

I send you thanks, love and best wishes.

And I leave you with the 3 ads that gave me hope that creativity still is a more powerful and deadly weapon than all the frameworks, funnels and optimisation put together.

See you on the other side. Specifically on the 11th.



Lucky 13 …

So today, Rosie is 13.

THIRTEEN!!

Yes, she’s slower than she was.
And definitely more bad tempered.
But overall, she’s in pretty awesome nick for someone who was once a Singaporean street cat.

Of course, part of this wellbeing is she got the best adoption ever.

Her life, since that day we got her back in 2007 has all been first class.

Not just in terms of the life she has gets to enjoy – which has seen us do all manner of things, from building her penthouses for the home to importing her favourite snacks – but also in the fact that she has lived in 5 countries and has entered each one in pampered luxury.

Hell, I even did freelance jobs just to ensure she moved to countries in more style than any other pet could dream of.

And you know what? I don’t begrudge a second of it.

Since the moment we got her, she’s given us nothing but joy.

OK, there have been a few headaches …

When she almost strangled herself to death with an elastic toy.

When she was so dehydrated they thought she might die.

When I turned down an amazing job in New Zealand because immigration wouldn’t let us bring her due to being based in China.

And when she broke my lamp and my X-Box all at the same time and I wanted to kill her.

But overall, she has been nothing but an absolute joy … which is pretty amazing when you remember she’s a cat.

Let’s be honest, cats are assholes.

They are the masters of manipulation.

They can become the cuddliest bundle of fluff when they want something and can be the coldest fuck when they don’t.

And yet you come back for more because you want their acknowledgement … which only encourages them more.

Which is why they end up thinking they can sit wherever they want because they think everywhere is theirs.

They’re not our pets, we’re there’s … and I hope we have many more years of being her servant because while many may regard her as an animal, I see her as family.

So happy, happy birthday my dearest Rosie … and to sign off I thought I’d show you a video I made when I was running The Kennedys.

I had given everyone an assignment to ‘make a video on their smartphones about a family member and their dirty little secret’.

I could have done one about Jill.

I could have done one about Otis … even if he was months old.

But no, I did it about you. THAT’S how much I love you.



A Half Century Of Beautifully Ridiculous …
June 16, 2020, 5:15 am
Filed under: Anniversary, Birthday, Comment, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Paul, Shelly

I know I’m on holiday and there should be no posts this week, but today – like yesterday – is a moment that needs to be celebrated, even if I’m not around.

June.

1970.

2 amazing things happened.

The first was I was born … hahahaha.

But the second occurred 4 days later, when Paul Hill popped out.

Though some of you in Nottingham will know him as the Frothy Coffee Man.

Since that day, we’ve basically been inseparable.

From discovering we lived on the same street – at least initially – to going through every school class together, every drama and hardship together and every exciting adventure together.

From kindergarten to college … divorce to death … mortgage to marriage … we’ve always been together.

Always.

And now my parents have passed away, he is the person I’ve known – and who has known me – the longest my life and that might be part of the reason why I genuinely regard him as family.

Hell, I haven’t bought a full page ad in a newspaper for anybody else … and that includes my wife and son!

I don’t know what it was, but we just clicked from the second we met.

A bond that has remained to this day.

And I genuinely mean a bond.

Even when I spent 25 years away from the UK, Paul was always my best mate.

We could go a month without talking – or a year without seeing each other – but the moment we were back together, whether in the flesh or on the phone, it was there.

The bond.

Solid as all fuck.

Like no time had been between us.

Now if you ask my wife, there is one thing that defines this … our immaturity.

You see, while life has changed for both of us, when we’re together, we return to being cheeky, mischievous 10 year olds.

OK, some of that is because Paul has done some momentously stupid things that makes me cry with laughter … and some of it might be that we have a lifetime of memories and experiences we’ve built up … but generally, when we’re together, we get younger.

Or more precisely, act younger.

I can’t tell you how grateful I am that our wives put up with it.

Just like I can’t tell you how happy I am our wives adore each other.

But there’s something even better than that, and that’s how Otis talks about his odd-parents.

Having my son see my oldest friend and his wife as part of his family is such an amazing feeling.

Maybe part of this is because Paul and Shelly don’t have kids of their own …

Maybe part of this is because Otis has spent so much time with them …

Maybe part of this is because Paul acts younger than Otis …

But whatever the reason, I am so happy he see’s ‘Uncle Paul and Auntie Shelly’ as being important in his life because I want all of them to know how important they are in ours.

To reach 50 with my best friend is a wonderful thing.

I would love to just sit down and talk about all the things we can remember together.

And while I could do that today – when I go to see him – it would take a long time.

But there are some things that stand out to me …

From him ALWAYS picking me as the ‘dog’ in the song ‘Old McDonald’ … so all the kids in kindergarten would smack me on the head.

To the time he came back from a family trip to Hong Kong with the first digital watch I’d ever seen with a calculator in it.

When we bumped into each other in LAX, not knowing our wives had spent 6 months secretly planning a trip for us all to go to Vegas and renew our vows with an Elvis impersonator.

That year he came back from the school 6 week holidays about 10 feet taller than when he left.

When we stayed up all night in Sheffield so we could get to the front of the stadium to see Queen – only to learn they weren’t coming and we got Five Star instead.

To Mr One Eye, Round Table Christmas Tree, shoes on the wrong feet, the girls at Glens, BMX petition, the ‘Jessops’ mirror, Duchess, the ‘Denmark’ incident, wheelie competitions, a coach reversing up his parents driveway at midnight, Rock City on Friday night, Bangkok Shakes tours, sawing my finger off, his insanely large appendage, Passport to Pornland …. he has been involved or connected to every single event in my life.

Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Big. Small. Fun. Stupid.

And yet in all this time together, we have only ever had one falling out.

One!

And all I can remember is that it was about a local radio DJ who had committed murder.

God knows what we disagreed on but all I know is we were waiting for the number 45 bus to take us into town from Greythorn Drive … we had an argument … and I walked off in a huff.

I think I rang him the next day in tears to apologise and he was like, “what are you apologising for?”.

And that’s him.

Kind. Generous. Stupid. Lovely.

The reality is, Paul and I have a friendship based on enjoying life rather than worrying about it.

That doesn’t mean we are immune from pressure, troubles and hardship.

We both have had – and will have – situations that have been challenging and devastating to us. And when they happen, we are there for each other. But when I think of my relationship with Paul, I think of happiness.

That I still think that 50 years down the line is both incredible and testimony to his character.

I am proud of who he is.

I am proud of what he’s doing..

I am proud I get to call him my best mate.

Happy birthday beautiful.

Can’t wait to see you.

Here’s to the next 10.

Rx

_________________________________________________________________________________

Oh hang on, I’ve forgotten the best part.

As you know I’m a sentimental fart.

When Paul turned 40, I wanted to get him something that would show him how much I adored him and so – as I mentioned earlier in this post – I bought a full page ad in the Nottingham Evening Post newspaper.

The ad is the picture showing Paul at different stages of his ‘development’.

What’s funny is the paper then interviewed me to find out more about my ridiculousness gift and for some reason, they kept referring to Shelly – his wife – as ‘second wife, Shelly’.

They even printed it!

Fortunately she took it in good humour, which is handy as I then bought her mugs and tea towels with it proudly emblazoned on them.

But 50 is a whole different age …

So while I wanted to get Paul something that celebrated his birthday milestone and showed how much I love him … I wanted it to be more subtle, more respectable, more in keeping with people of our age.

So I got him this … I hope he like it, it took me an age to edit it all together

Happy birthday big fella.

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Happy Birthday Jill …
June 15, 2020, 6:15 am
Filed under: Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Comment, Jill, Love, Otis

Yes, I’m on holiday.

Yes, I know I am not supposed to be writing any blogposts.

But today – and tomorrow – are exceptions, because it’s special people’s special days.

Starting with today, where it’s my wonderful wife’s birthday.

I am conflicted about it.

I love that we are growing old together.

I love that we have memories together.

I love that we have ambitions together.

But I hate how quickly it’s all going.

I am so grateful for all she is in my life.

For all she’s done … supported and encouraged.

I just wish it wasn’t happening so quickly.

For all the horror of COVID, it has been very special for me.

I get the privilege in that statement, but to be with Jill … to spend more time with her than maybe I have ever spent has been incredibly special.

Of course I wish it wasn’t at the huge cost that it has been for others, but I do look at this period as one I will remember for the worst and best of reasons.

Happy birthday my love.

You’re wonderful in every way.

You make everything better, including who I am.

I love you.

So much.

Rx

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