Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Childhood, Children, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Otis
Recently I heard an interview with the Led Zeppelin singer, Robert Plant.
Of course, Led Zeppelin is a long time off – but as I wrote here – his and the bands place in musical history is cemented.
Anyway, in this interview he talked about his kids – and his grandkids – and it got me thinking.
Despite the fact he is 77 years old, I never imagined him as a grandfather. To be honest I’d probably not thought of him as a father either. But of course he is, which made me wonder what it must be like for his family.
I am sure they just see him as ‘dad’ or ‘granddad’ … but even then, they must know he holds a huge place in millions of people’s hearts and minds.
But more than that – as he talked about going on small tours for the sheer fact he loved playing live – I wondered what his family thought of it.
Is it weird?
How do they connect the family member with the man on stage?
Do they see it as a family member doing their hobby or still holding court as a legend of music?
Having spoken to a friend – who photographed and interviewed Rockstars and their kids – I suspect, depending on their age, they find it amusing, confusing and wonderful. Something they know their family member has always done, but is about as far from their world as they could get.
But that’s not the point of the post, it was the fact they would always be able to hear him and see him even when he’s past.
Whether at his Rock God peak or in his older age, he would always be present.
Not just emotionally … but visually and sonically.
And while I appreciate that could have moments where it is hard, I would imagine it would also be reassuring.
I don’t have that with my Mum and Dad. In fact – apart from photographs – all I have is one short message my parents sent me on voicemail on a birthday.
Dad had had his stroke by then and Mum was trying to help him get the words out to send me best wishes. It’s both beautiful and heartbreaking and I know they’d love me to have had other things to wrap myself up in.
Which is why this blog is important to me.
Because for all the rubbish it spouts, it is me.
My voice. My thoughts. My conflictions. My beliefs … even when they change over the years.
But it’s not enough.
And while I’ve been ending all my talks with an image of my son … I want to do more. I want to make sure that when I’m gone, he has the choice to hear more of his old man. Not because of what I say, but more for him to know how deeply I love him and how proud I am of him.
Hopefully, he knows that already but I’ll never be able to express just how much he means to me … which is why I’ve decided to do the Temu version of Robert Plant in so much as from now on, if I am invited to talk at presentations or anything in the public domain … I’m going to make sure part of that is me saying what he means to me. Not for any performative stance … but just because should he ever be in a situation where he needs to hear his old man’s voice or to be reminded what he means to me, all he has to do is turn to the internet.
He may not want to, and that’s cool.
But – as I know my parents would have wished for me – he could if he wants to.
And sometimes, that’s all you need to feel a bit more peace about knowing you won’t always be there for them.
I say this as both a warning and an invitation to anyone who wants me to come speak at their conference/podcast or seminar, haha.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Business, Childhood, Clients, Comment, Confidence, Creative Development, Creativity, Dad, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Family, Friendship, Loyalty, Marketing Fail, Mum, Mum & Dad, Tom Stoppard
First of all a huge thanks to all the people who got in touch about my good eye news yesterday. Given how much your support through the challenge of last year meant to me, you just added the icing on the top.
So back to the post …
A while back, the great playwright, Tom Stoppard, died.
His death affected me because he was someone my family didn’t just respect highly, but knew well.
Especially my Auntie Silvana, who first met him when they worked at the iconic Aldwych theatre, London.
If truth be told, I’d not thought about Tom for years but on hearing he had died, I realized the people in my life who would be the most upset at this news – namely my Mum, Dad and Aunt – had all gone, and somehow that made the news the more potent.
Unsurprisingly, news of Tom’s passing led to many stories about him being told in the international media.
Stories about his talent.
Stories about his stories.
And stories about his integrity.
The word integrity is one that is often overused and incorrectly used.
Too often used to justify a one-off decision and/or a small act of consciousness within a big pattern of complicit acts.
But Tom wasn’t like that.
Even those who would label his decisions as ‘stubborn’ would grudgingly acknowledge – and respect – he was simply being Tom. Doing what he said he would do, regardless of opportunity, pressure, money or fame.
At a time where people and companies will seemingly destroy any relationship, promise or agreement for the ability to squeeze out $1 more than they had before … it’s beautiful Stoppard would never entertain doing such a thing.
Nothing sums this up more than this story of when Spielberg wanted him to write the screenplay for Jaws …
Isn’t that amazing?
It was also smart … because not only did it make Spielberg want to work with him even more, it had the same effect with the people at the BBC.
As I wrote a while back, our industry loves to talk about integrity and relationships but rarely seems to understand what those words actually mean, let alone how deeply entwined and interconnected they are.
As I wrote a while back about a private client of mine – the biggest street fashion investor and most profitable retailer on the planet – powerful, valuable and sustainable relationships aren’t built on convenience, but on inconvenience … and how your actions, honesty, transparency and focus continually demonstrate how you never lose sight of what you’re building together, how you want to build it and what each other is able to do because of it.
Also known as integrity.
Thank you Tom. We need more people like you … or at least acting like you.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Dad, Death, Family, Love, Parents
OK, so we got to the end of the first week of 2026.
Or should I say the 3rd week … but you know what I mean.
Anyway, I started the TWENTIETH year of this blog with a couple of nice posts.
Then I followed it up with a couple of things that were frustrating-the-fuck out of me.
And now I am going to end it with something deeply personal to me.
Today is the 27th anniversary of my dad dying.
That not only means he has been out my life for just under half my life, but in just 5 years – I’ll be the age he was when he died.
As I’ve written before, when I turned 50 I went through a real emotional wobble believing that meant I only had 10 years before I too died … and while I’ve thankfully got past that, it increasingly shocks me how young he was when he passed.
Now I’ve written a lot about how much my Dad meant to me … how much he means to me … so this time I’m going to post something else altogether. Not because I don’t want to celebrate my Dad, but because I think this celebrates him in a way he would both want and respect.
To do that, you need to watch this …
This not only hit me, it made me really think hard.
And I get it and I think my Dad would have loved it.
Don’t get me wrong, I wish my Dad was still alive with all my heart and soul.
I miss him every single day and I hate I haven’t been able to share any of the past 27 years of my life with him.
But while he is still in my life and still relevant in my life, I know he would want me to refer to him as dead rather than ‘passed away’… not just because he wasn’t religious in any way, but because the word ‘death’, honours him and acknowledges him with greater dignity and love than any of the more ambiguous terminology that is often used to soften the reality rather than respect it.
Put simply, ‘passed’ sounds temporary and death represents permanency … and the reason that is so important is – as Labi Siffre so brilliantly articulates – the permanency of death not only justifies, but enables the full expression of grief because ultimately, grief represents the deep love you had for someone and the importance they played in your life.
And my god, did I love him.
So here’s to you Dad.
Dead, missed but absolutely not forgotten.
Filed under: Anniversary, Birthday, Bonnie, Childhood, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Otis, Relationships, Respect, Rosie, Sky, Travel
Today is a complicated day for me.
Because on the positive it would be my brilliant Dad’s 87th birthday … but on the negative, it reminds me that he has been gone 27 years.
Or said another way … almost half my life.
HALF!
That seems both impossible and insane.
Of course, because I think about him so much, he has never truly ‘left me’, but I also begrudge the fact I’ve not been able to share so many of the experiences I’ve had in the intervening 27 years that I’d have loved to have shared with him to see, hear and learn his response and reaction to.
I never got to introduce him to my wife, my son, my cat, my dog and Otis’ bird – Sky.
I never got to talk to him about Singapore, Hong Kong, China, Japan, America, New Zealand.
I never got to seek his advice on dealing with challenges, loss, possibilities and tough choices.
I never got to watch his face as I told him about my career, clients, colleagues and work.
I never got to hear his laugh as I helped him enjoy the experiences, he always wanted to try but never had the chance to do.
But most of all, I never got to keep telling him how grateful I am for the person he is and the person he helped me become.
The irony – as I’ve written before – is that so many of those things I’ve not been able to share with him happened because I am driven by a desire to make him and Mum proud. To repay the love and faith they always showed towards me … whether that was when I was failing exams or when they told me I should still travel despite the fact Dad had experienced a terrible stroke.
So to my wonderful Dad ….
You may not be here but know you’re with me every day … which I know you’d be very happy about, even if I also know you’d also be telling me ‘that I have to get on with my life rather than be held back by yours’, hahaha.
So, with that let me end this post by reassuring you that you – and Mum – never held me back. In fact, you’re two of the biggest reasons why I’ve been able to – and want to – keep moving forward, because in many ways, it’s not just how I repay my gratitude for all you did [and continue to do] for me, it’s how I can say – and show – how much I love you.
And I do. A shit-ton.
So happy birthday Dad.
I send you – and Mum – a big kiss and hug.
I hope you’re holding hands and smiling at the life your son is living more than frowning,
On the bright side, while I still seem very capable of causing all manner of trouble, at least the stuff I get up to these days has a lot less ‘police involvement’ than my earlier years, which has to be a positive doesn’t it? Haha.
Miss you.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Family, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
I appreciate that in some ways, I’m a total fucking hypocrite writing this.
I work too much.
I travel too much.
I – if I’m being honest – love what I do too much.
That doesn’t mean I don’t love my family with all my heart … however as I wrote recently, I also realize I’d not shown how much of a priority they were to me as much as I want them to feel.
Given my wife has enabled me to have the career – and life – I/we enjoy … and the fact my son is 10 years old … it’s pretty fucking appalling it took me so long to fully grasp this concept to be honest.
That doesn’t mean I’m no longer ambitious, nor does it mean my family have stopped generously encouraging me to go after the things that interest and excite me – it’s just that I’ve chosen to stop being a Labrador Puppy who chases everything that captures my attention and, in terms of my time, my family now always wins … which is something I’m ashamed to admit was probably not always the case, all of the time.
Now I am not trying in any way to suggest I have got it all sorted out. I’m 55, so to have only recently worked this out shows that’s definitely not the case. Nor am I judging anyone who lives or thinks differently. Plus I am still hardwired to fuck myself over – literally today I realized that throughout my entire career, wherever I’ve worked, I’ve been the first person to be in the office day after day after day. All the time. Everytime. Everyday.
Idiot. [Though in my defense, it is often the only time I get to do my work before the mania begins of colleagues, ha]
But the point of this post is one thing I hear from lots of people is their desire to have a better work/life balance.
What ‘better’ is, is up to them … but the likelihood is they want more time with the people that matter most to them than the people who employ them. Yes, that’s an assumption, but I don’t think it is entirely unjustified.
And recently I heard something that not only helped reinforce why this matters, but could ensure you do all you can to make sure it does.
It was this.
If you’re a parent … your role as father or mother will outlive you.
That’s it.
That simple.
And while we all know that, I doubt we think about it in those terms.
I know for a fact that even though my Dad has been gone 26 years and my Mum 10 … their presence and impact in my life continues. And the older I get, the more I realise, respect and am grateful for all they did to ensure they were active and present in my life. Whatever the challenges they faced – and they faced a lot.
Now compare this to work life.
However popular you are, if you’re lucky … you’ll be remembered for maybe a few weeks after you’ve left.
That’s it.
Hell – as I wrote recently – that even applies to those people who started the company, let alone just work for it.
So while I am not saying work or ambition isn’t important – for all manner of reasons – it’s a good reminder of what deserves our focus and who will actually value it the most, for all the right reasons.
Of course, being able to even think this is a privilege, given there’s a shitload of people who want to spend much more time with their family but can’t … or aren’t able to.
But for those who do have that opportunity, I hope you realise it sooner than I did … because regardless how much we love what we do – or how important we think we are – the only place we’re not replaceable is with our kids.
Hopefully.
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In typical fashion, I am away again – I know, less than a week after I was away for over a week – so there’s no more posts till Monday. So enjoy the additional time away from me and hopefully you can spend it with someone you love, not someone who wastes your time. Like me and this blog.