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
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Apple, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Confidence, Consultants, Creative Development, Creativity, Design, Distinction, Emotion, Empathy, Focus Groups, Management, Perspective, Professionalism, Standards
McKinsey.
Oh McKinsey.
I’ve written a bunch about them in the past.
Hell, they were the reason one of my tweets went viral.
Scared the shit out of me.
I mean going viral, not the tweet.
And while I appreciate McKinsey have some very smart people working there and there are stories of their bullish confidence that are mildly amusing … let’s not forget they would recommend killing their grandmother if it made them an extra dollar.
Note I said ‘recommend’ … because like a Mafia boss, McKinsey never get their hands dirty, they make others do that. Then they can blame them when it goes wrong … similar to financial institutions who pay out millions to make problems go away rather than face the music in a court of law.
Which is why I found this interview they ran with Jony Ive so interesting.
OK, so Jony Ive is an interesting person so it was never going to run the risk of being bad … but what was fascinating was the headline they ran with it.
Creativity.
Unpredictability.
A great idea cannot be predicted.
Jesus Christ, that must have been like Kryptonite to the ‘everything is a process’ Kings.
I also love how they call it ‘provocations to ponder’.
Why is it a provocation?
Why is it something to ponder?
That’s literally the creative process … except, I suppose, for companies like McKinsey, who would regard that perspective as a celebration of the subjective and the inconsistent, which means it’s seen more as an act of wilful danger than the liberation of possibility.
But because it’s Jony Ive … McKinsey have turned a blind eye. After all, Jony is a global design icon. The driving force behind so many Apple products. Steve Jobs trusted sidekick. Being seen to walk in his circles can only be a good thing, despite the fact he represents the total opposite of what McKinsey do and value.
Oh hang on … someone’s going to say, “creativity is in everything”.
And they’re right of course and – despite what I said a few paragraphs ago – it’s fair to say McKinsey do embrace some elements of creativity.
However the creativity Ive is talking about is not the creativity McKinsey value.
Or practice.
For them, it’s approached functionally and economically, whereas for Ive, it’s about enabling change. An ability to see, think or feel differently. And while they may share similarities, it’s in the same way mathematicians and musician are similar.
Both do things based on numbers … except one uses it to shine a light on problems or solutions, whereas the other is the byproduct of the light.
Both have their value.
Both are about moving forward.
But how they do it are totally different.
Chalk and fucking cheese.
Which is why if I’m going to end this post with anything, it’s this:
Don’t let anyone try to tell you the light doesn’t matter.
Filed under: Comment
… because while the worst of the pain from that terrible day has gone … I know the scars and memories remain. Biggest, big hugs. Will call you later today.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Bands, Colleagues, Comment, Confidence, Craft, Creative Development, Creativity, Music
One of the things that rarely seems to be mentioned in the creative process is chemistry.
Where different people – often from different backgrounds and disciplines – just know how to work together.
I don’t mean in terms of their craft. Or understanding the process as to how things work. But in terms of being on the same wavelength of the people around them and respecting what each other does and what they need to do to help them be as good as they can be.
I don’t mean some corporate ‘kum-ba-ya’… where everyone is superficially polite to each other so as not to offend. I mean a group of talented people coming together with the same values and vision. Who know the importance everyone brings to the party. Who have such regard for the abilities of each individual, they are equally as comfortable pushing, provoking as they are listening and encouraging. Where everyone is given the space to experiment and explore … because everyone respects who they are, what they do and how they do it.
It’s also worth pointing out that there tends to be one person who ignites it all.
Someone who you all respect that little bit more.
Not for what they’ve done, but for how they think.
So they act as some catalyst to make everyone come together.
To be better together.
To want to be better for each other.
Elevating standards, ambitions and possibilities simply because of their presence.
It’s rare.
Very rare.
That’s not to say every time in-between is bad or fractious … far from it … it’s just that sometimes, a certain combination of people just click in a way where the capabilities of what can happen and be achieved are greater than when you’re apart.
In my professional life, I’ve had 4 occasions where this has happened … though I didn’t really realise it with 2 of them, until they had ended.
And it tends to end … because life has plans for each and everyone of us, so you accept it, enjoy it and hope something like it will happen again.
In the main, if it does happen again, it’s rarely with the same people.
I’m not sure why …
Changing times.
A change of personal circumstances.
A pressure to make it happen rather than it just happening.
Not always, but often.
I say all this because I recently watched an interview with ‘The Revolution’ … the backing band for Prince from ’79 to ’86.
Though ‘backing’ isn’t the right term … because even though they played Prince’s songs, Prince valued what they all brought to them.
But that said, they haven’t played together in decades.
They are all at different points and places in their life.
But there is a bond. Bound by history, experience and the realisation that what they did together – albeit with ‘the master chef’, Prince – became immortal.
Not in an egotistical way.
Not even in a sales of record way.
But in terms of the intensity of what they created as individuals, to elevate the whole.
Different people.
Different backgrounds.
Same chemistry, values and vision.
If you are lucky to find this, hold on for as long as you can.
Because magic rarely happens on its own and some combinations keep casting the spells.
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.