Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Dad, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Parents, Paul
While I grew up in a very middle-class family, our income was definitely not.
There was never much money around and there were some seriously tough times.
One of them – the worst of them – will stay with me until I die. It was horrific and traumatic and had a huge influence in how I live my life.
I should point out none of this was not because my parents were out spending beyond their means. While they had good jobs, they didn’t get paid much at all and so they faced a constant battle to make ends meet.
Not that I knew any of this when I was young.
My parents ensured I never went without.
Only when I got older did I see what they sacrificed to ensure I didn’t have to.
It’s a big reason for my work ethic.
I know … I know … many of you think I haven’t got one, but I do. Honest.
And it’s not because I don’t want to be in the same position they found themselves in [I mean, I don’t … but it had nothing to do with their work ethic, which was huge] … it’s because I don’t want to feel all the sacrifices they made, were in vain.
That despite all that, all they ever wanted for me was to live a life of fulfillment is incredible.
Hell, they even backed me when I explained to them why I didn’t want to go to university – which was something I know was important for them.
It’s probably why I have been so open to living around the world … because deep down, it is something I imagine would have made my parents proud. Even more so given it has enabled me to forge a life free from many of the things they had to endure.
Because that’s another thing they wanted for me.
Security.
But not through the repetition of something I didn’t enjoy, but as a byproduct of something I did.
I’m 53 and still coming to terms with how amazing my parents are.
It’s also why I feel a bit guilty as to how I was as a kid.
Because I liked stuff.
Expensive stuff.
OK, by today’s standards it is nothing … but back in the early 70’s and 80’s, it was. Even more so when your parents didn’t earn much.
Raleigh Grifter. Tin Can Alley. Astro Wars. Etc etc.
I discovered a lot of it because of the Argos Catalogue.
My grandmother had it and when I went to see her, I read it religiously.
Cover to cover. Forwards and backwards.
For me it was like a bible … a portal to another world. One filled with possibilities and opportunities that I didn’t even know were a possibility.
The other way I found things I liked was through friends. Specifically, my best friend, Paul.
You see Paul had 2 things that inspired and influenced me.
One was an older brother and sister who owned things that were so outside my frame of reference, they could have been made by an alien lifeforce from the future.
The other was wealth.
Put simply, his parents were loaded.
They had TWO cars.
Their house had TWO bathrooms.
Their house had TWO televisions.
Their house had an electric organ annnnnnnnd, they had this.
Yep, that’s a Hostess trolley.
Actually that looks like the Hostess tray, which I assume came out prior to the trolley … which had room for plates, not just food.
For those who don’t know what it is, it’s a machine designed with compartments to keep different food warm.
Not in the kitchen … but at the table!!!
It’s like a hotel buffet … lift off the lid and the grab the warm food inside.
The advertising used to say, ‘The Hostess With The Mostest’. Which is shit, yet also ace.
Owning one could only mean one thing … you had events at your house where lots of people would come and eat and to me, that was peak-posh.
Now if I’m honest, I don’t know if I ever saw them actually ever use it – maybe for family Christmas, but that would be it – but the fact they had one and my parents wouldn’t even have enough plates to fill one, was a big sign to a little boy that his family were doing a hell of a lot better than we were.
If I’m honest, I kind of knew this already …
They would go out to dinner every week, we would go to a $4.99 Berni Inn steak and strawberry dinner once a year.
They went on overseas holidays every year whereas we didn’t go anywhere for year after year after year.
But I was never jealous – not even when Paul came back from HK with the first ever Casio Calculator watch. Not just because my parents made sure I didn’t go without – especially in terms of love – but because Paul’s family were/are like a second family to me.
[That said, I was jealous of his Fisher Price Garage, Speak & Spell and Race & Chase … but he let me use those a lot, so I got over it pretty quick]
However since someone sent me the picture above of the Hostess Trolley, I’m wondering if I’ve been keeping my jealousy deep down. Because despite having not seen or thought about that product since I was probably 10 years old, I really want it.
Not a new one, but one from the early 1980’s.
Not because we’d use it – and we wouldn’t have even turned it on if my parents had it – but because back in 1980, I saw that as a real symbol of status and I’d like to own one.
Ironically, not so I can feel ‘I’ve made it’, but to remind me what I used to think success was. Not to ridicule myself, but to be grateful and thankful to my parents for all they did for me, including keeping my feet – and taste – [mainly] on the bloody ground.
Filed under: Advertising, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand Suicide, Cannes, Colleagues, Communication Strategy, Content, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Egovertising, Experience, Fake Attitude, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Perspective, Point Of View, Professionalism, Relationships, Resonance, Respect, Standards, Toxic Positivity | Tags: om
Obviously I have a soft spot for Google.
From cynic to Colenso, they’ve been a constant in my professional as well as personal life.
They are intimately involved in so much of what I do every single day and I appreciate the possibilities they have enabled me to embrace because of them existing.
I know … that sounds unbelievably gushing doesn’t it.
That doesn’t mean there’s not stuff that drives me nuts …
From the way some of their products work [Google Slides, I’m looking at you] through to the passive behaviour they are increasingly showing in the face of challenges that their smarts/money/tech could fundamentally change for the benefit of millions – if not billions – of people. However even with all that, it pales into comparison to this:
What. The. Hell?
Not only is it an absolutely terrible attempt to make a terrible pun, I still don’t know what ‘the new way to cloud’ is. Or means. Or why I should give a second of attention to it.
For a company so full of smart people, how can this happen?
Seriously, this sort of work does the absolute opposite of what Google want.
It makes people question how smart the company is.
It makes people ask if Google know how to talk to people.
It makes people wonder if Google know how to make tech that understands our needs.
It makes people ask if this is the sort of organisation we should trust to shape our future.
Sure, it’s just a random billboard … but for a brand that once represented humanities hope for ensuring technology enabled and empowered a better, brighter, more equal future for all, this work feels more like a politician pretending to smile while they’re busy oppressing us.
I know this isn’t the case, but bloody hell, it’s rubbish.
Which leads me to this.
I don’t know who is behind it. I don’t know if it’s an agency or an internal group. But I have to believe this was made because senior people mandated it or influenced it. Either directly, or indirectly. Which serves as a really good reminder about the dangers of corporate structures.
As Martin, Paula and I said in our Cannes talk, toxic positivity is ruining brands and people.
The idea that ‘team’ is now interpreted as blind complicity and conformity is insane.
But it’s happening. We all see it or have experienced it.
Worse, there’s an underlying attitude that the only way to get ahead is manage up. What I mean is that rather than do the right thing for your audience, you do the right thing by your boss. Doesn’t matter if it makes no sense. Doesn’t matter if it actively confuses the people it is actually designed to communicate to. As long as it hits the ‘cues’ your boss likes, you’re good.
As I wrote recently, toxic positivity is leading to the systematic destruction of knowledge and experience. Great ideas and people are literally being moved out of organisations to be replaced by conformists and pleasers.
Yes, company culture is important.
It has an incredible power to achieve great things.
But here’s the thing too many companies just don’t seem to get.
If you’re mandating it, you don’t have it.
Because real company culture is born from the people within the company. Yes, the people at the top shape and influence it – often through beliefs and a way to look at the world – but the moment you try to dictate or define it, you lose it.
But here’s the thing …
Even when a company gives you something to believe in, they know the real key is to give every employee the power to feel they can be themselves. That they trust them to want to make things better, rather than break things apart.
Which is why they encourage debate.
They value different opinions and ideas.
Because as long as it’s not in a self-serving, divisive manner … it’s almost the ultimate demonstration you want to help make things better.
There are a lot of companies who get this.
There’s sadly far more who don’t.
And everyone loses because of it. Because if companies stopped thinking of company culture in-terms of efficiency and optimisation – and more about standards and quality control – we would all get to better places faster.
Or at the very least, less ads that say everything by saying absolutely nothing.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Childhood, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Government, Lego, My Childhood, Play, Toys
I love Lego.
I played with it.
I’ve bought it for others.
I once applied for a job there.
I’ve had the privilege of presenting to people there.
Lego is a brand with infinite possibilities and made with real consideration.
But recently I saw this note they used to put inside their boxes and it reminded me how over the years, Lego has seemingly moved more towards instruction than imagination:
Now I appreciate Lego has never been so successful. Or adored.
Nor do I think they’ve changed their belief that play is an important way to learn.
But while kids may well use their product as they see fit, there was something brilliant about a brand openly celebrating you had the power to use it as you choose. That the power of your imagination was more important and valuable than any specific direction or instruction that they put forward.
OK, so even in the past there were Lego ‘kits’ … but they seemed to be more about inspiration to get you started rather than a goal to know when you’ve finished.
Maybe that is one of the reasons for Roblox’s rise.
That’s almost all imagination … or said another way … less direction.
Who knows, what I am sure of is the World needs Lego and I just hope that somewhere along the line, that note to parents makes a comeback, because in a world that is increasingly structured and defined by the actions of the privileged and powerful … imagination is the only thing that can take us all to somewhere new and better.
Might be worth companies taking note for how to get the best out of their creative partners too.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Business, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Customer Service, Effectiveness, Food, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Membership, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Strategy, Trust
So Kevin Chesters recently posted some work from the far distant past.
It was work that I adored at the time and even now, I feel is one of the best pieces of communication ever made.
EVER. MADE.
But it’s not NIKE. Or Apple. Or anything approaching ‘cultural cool’ … it’s for a supermarket.
Oh, but wait … there’s more.
Because it’s not a brand ad – though it does a ton for the brand – it’s a retail ad.
But instead of starbursts and shelf wobblers … it’s a masterclass in craft and smarts. Where the majestic charm and wry humour not only treats the audience with intelligence, but communicates price in a way you see value both in the product and the company selling it.
Regardless of the item.
Regardless of the audience ‘segment’.
Regardless of whether it’s selling food or their loyalty scheme.
It’s incredible and what’s more … it’s from the early 2000’s.
I think.
But despite being almost 20 years old, it’s still one of the best examples of a brand that knows who they are, knows who their audience is and knows the relationship they would like to have with their audience.
More than that, they know the problem they’re solving.
Not just in a general sense … but in terms of the potential barrier for each item.
In a world of wish-standard Nike knockoffs, this is an example of advertising not just communicating, but undeniably contributing to the growth, value and reputation of the company it represents.
When it wants to be – and when it’s allowed to be – this industry can be outstanding.
While we can’t control the standards other parties may demand, we can control what ours are.
Of course, in these ‘procurement-led times’ you could say ‘you get what you pay for’.
And I get that.
But watching the value and standards of what we do fall down a drain doesn’t seem a particularly good business approach.
Which is why I find myself repeating what an old boss of mine used to say to me.
“What happens next is up to us”.
He’s never been more right.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Bands, Bangkok Shakes, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Education, England, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, Nottingham, Parents
So on Sunday, my beloved Dad would have been 85.
Given he died at 60 – and I’m 53 – that means he has been gone for almost half of my life.
And in some ways it feels it.
Memories made up of different moments from the distant past.
But when anniversaries approach … the context changes.
Backgrounds become foregrounds … and despite all the years I’ve had to come to terms with things, they still have the power to take me on an incredibly emotional rollercoaster.
Part of that is because of our history … the other part is because of what I wish I could share and discuss.
He always had questions.
Not for judgement but connection.
OK, mainly for connection – hahaha.
And with so many things having happened in my life since he passed, I can only imagine all the things he’d want to know about.
God I’d love that.
I’d love to watch his eyes as he met my wife, my son …
Saw the life we live, have lived and plan to live.
Feel I’d made him proud.
Because so many of the decisions in my life have been driven by my desire to do just that. To feel my actions and behaviours would be things that made him feel a sense of pride.
Of course I’ve done stuff that would not come anywhere close to gaining that reaction, but in the main I think he would believe I’ve made him proud more times than I’ve disappointed him … but then my Dad, like my Mum, saw their role as encouraging me to always chase fullfilment rather than choose conformity or contentment.
And they did.
Sure, there were some gulps when I told them I didn’t want to go to university …
And when I was going to spend 10 years of savings all in one go on guitar amps …
But once they knew why I was making those decisions, they supported me.
Proper support. Encouragement. Interest. Help.
It was only when I was older that I realised how lucky I was, how this was not ‘normal’ parent behaviour.
So on what would be my Dad’s 85th birthday, I’d like to talk about a story of this encouragement.
I’ve written it before, but – to me – it’s a moment where his [and Mum’s] reaction changed the course of my life in a good way.
I was alright at school.
I was one of the cleverest in the thick bunch and one of the thickest in the clever bunch.
So basically bang in the middle.
But I worked hard. I put in effort. And the teachers knew I really tried.
However when it came to exams, I was a disaster.
Didn’t matter how hard I revised, the moment I was in a situation where I felt ‘everything came down to that moment’… I fell apart. While my parents did all they could to help – including getting me extra lessons – I now realise it was probably driven by anxiety … however in 1986, anxiety didn’t exist so while my school work continued to be good, exams still continued to be a major problem for me.
Nothing highlighted this more than when I was sent to the local careers advisor.
I told them I wanted to be a lawyer or a journalist [more on that in a minute] but the moment they looked at my projected qualifications – despite my solid schoolwork – they said:
“Have you considered a career in catering management”.
Now there is nothing wrong with catering management. I have some friends that work in that industry who love it. But even then I knew absolutely that it wasn’t for me. And at that moment, that careers advisor stamped all over the hopes and dreams I had for the future.
Aged just 16.
Of course I sort-of understand. They said what they saw from the ‘data’ in front of them … however while I appreciate they couldn’t give me any false hope, pointing me in a direction I had no interest in was equally as bad. Despite this all happening 37 years ago, I still remember the lack of interest he showed in understanding me. I was just another kid he was contractually obliged to see. Another kid he had to ‘tick off’ his register.
I left that building in a bit of a daze.
I caught the 45 bus back to Mum and Dad’s.
I remember the day because it was the day Andrew and Fergie got married.
It was sunny. Except in my head and heart.
Frankly I was devastated. I had – in my mind – been told the most I should aspire for was what I imagined at the time, a ‘mediocre’ life.
(I appreciate this would not be necessarily the case, but I was young and at the time, I just had my hopes crushed and so I only saw stuff in black and white)
When I got home, I found Dad in his chair watching the pomp and ceremony.
He loved the history of the Royal Family, but didn’t really love the Royals … so when he saw me, he could tell something was up. I tried to fake it at first. Put on a smile. Not just because I was trying to process what had just happened … but I didn’t want to disappoint him. But my Mum and Dad knew me well and so slowly I let things out.
I remember he listened intently. Taking it all in. And when I got to the point of ‘catering management’ he asked what I thought of that. And I probably cried … because it was absolultely not what I wanted to do.
And despite my family all being incredible lawyers, he asked, “why aren’t you looking at music?”
This was a revelation for a whole host of reasons.
One … the idea of a career in music was so far outside my frame-of-reference that it sounded even more crazy than me saying I wanted to become a lawyer.
Two … while I had been playing the guitar – and done some gigs for a few years – I always assumed my parents saw it as a hobby. Or worse, an educational distraction.
And if that wasn’t amazing enough, then he said something that changed my life.
He told me he loved me.
He told me exam results don’t define the future of me.
He told me a person who only spent 15 minutes with me knows nothing about me.
He told me history was littered with people who achieved more than others said they would.
He told me he wants me to chase what I’m passionate about, not what others want me to be passionate about.
He told me he sees how hard I work and how much I can – and have – achieved because of that hard work.
He told me he and Mum will always do what that can to support me.
He told me he was proud of me.
This is all I needed to hear. Because all I wanted was to be seen. Recognised for my effort and interests not just my school results. Actually that’s wrong, just seen for my exam results.
Of course I knew whatever I did wouldn’t be easy … but I never expected it to be. But here was my Dad – followed by my Mum when she came home from work – telling me he loved me and believed in me, despite what some careers officer thought … and that changed everything.
Within a few years, I got the 3rd highest mark in law across the country.
Within a few years I became a session guitarist for a bunch of 80’s popstars.
Within a few years I was in a band that signed a record deal with Virgin.
Within a few years I started a career in an industry that has helped me experience a life beyond my wildest dreams.
My Dad did that.
My Mum did that.
And in later life … my wife did that.
I’m not saying I didn’t work hard for it … I’m not saying I didn’t have many twists and turns along the way … but they were the reason I was able to go for it.
A belief in me that is probably more than the belief I have in me.
Never blind and blinkered … but also never dismissive or undermining.
What a gift.
What a Dad.
Happy birthday. I love you and miss you so much.
A kiss to you and Mum.
Rx