Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Friendship, Humanity, Life, Love, Loyalty
Got to be honest, I am glad to see the back of September.
There’s been some really good bits, but there’s definitely been a cavalcade of bad.
They say bad news comes in 3’s, well September proved it can come in much bigger numbers than that.
Which leads to the point of this post … and it’s bleak. Especially for a Tuesday. But it’s also real.
You see, the older you get, the more you welcome death into your life.
I’m not talking about celebrities, I mean friends, family members or friends of the family.
Of course, this can happen at any age – after all, I lost my Dad when I was still in my twenties and the posts I wrote following Mum’s death capture the emotional rollercoaster it can trigger in all of us – but growing old does tend to increase the level of loss you feel when learning of someone passing.
I know that sounds counter intuitive given you experience it more, but it’s true. Mainly because you never really get used to it happening.
Sure, the pain and sadness varies depending on who it is and the relationship you had with them, but it always affects you.
Even more so when the people are younger than you.
Over the last couple of months – literally 8 weeks – I’ve learned the sad news that 6 people I knew, had died.
SIX.
Three were ex-colleagues, one was a generous soul who I’d met a number of years ago and 2 were dear friends.
While I got on well with all of them, we weren’t living in each-others pockets beyond the odd note, the odd Instagram comment and the annual ‘birthday’ best wishes.
It wasn’t always like that, but life has a way of impacting availability even if you really try for it not to … which may explains why – bar Billy – I discovered their sad news via social media.
I wish I could say my first reaction was shock, but it wasn’t … it was confusion.
In each case I would read the ‘update’ on social media and then look at attached photo and not understand how these two things were connected.
One representing the worst of life. The other, showing them in the most vibrant expression of it.
And then, when I finally registered the reality of the situation – I found myself just going down a rabbit hole of their life.
Trying to understand what had happened.
Trying to know more about the life they had lived.
Trying to learn about the relationships that mattered most to them.
Trying to make sense of the last days, weeks and months of their life.
Trying to find the last time we had spent a good amount of time together.
Of course none of this changes the tragedy of it all, but in a weird way it helped me feel connected to them while also honouring them.
And I have felt a real need to honour them because they were all amazing people in a whole host of amazing ways.
Much better than I will ever be.
Now I appreciate this may all sound like I’ve gone mad but this approach has really helped me come to terms with their loss and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the dealings with death – what works for you, is all that matters.
But that doesn’t mean it hasn’t hurt.
Hasn’t left scars.
If truth be told, the impact of their loss – underpinned by the shitshow that is my eye and another friend dealing with the rapid decline of a parent who has been in my life my whole life – has had a pretty devastating effect on me.
It’s made me question a lot of things …
Decisions I’ve made.
Decisions I’ve yet to make.
The things I put my energy into.
The things I am expected to put my energy into.
All the sliding doors moments that I have walked past rather than walked through.
And while that all sounds bleak, the reality is it has served as an important reminder that so much of how we live is focused on what we should do rather than what we want to do.
That does not mean it justifies any act of selfishness … but it does validate embracing the opportunities, possibilities and people who bring you the greatest happiness, pleasure or excitement.
I’ve not always been the best at this.
I’ve allowed life to get in the way of what – or who – energises my life far too often.
I’ve seen people, places and opportunities pass me by that – had I stopped worrying about what I am expected to do – could have had a profound effect on many aspects of who I am and how I live.
That doesn’t mean I am disappointed with what I have and what I have done – far from it – I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be so bloody blessed in so many ways. But it also doesn’t blanket the fact I’ve let moments, people and possibilities slip through my fingers that I felt at the time were potentially hugely important to me or good for me, because I allowed things I shouldn’t have regarded as more important at the time, be more important.
Maybe out of duty.
Maybe out of routine.
Maybe out of fear for realising what I’d settled for versus what I could have done or had.
A long time ago, a friend of mine told me their approach to life was “live a little bit more stupidly”.
I still really like that.
A little bit more stupid might be the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard.
Which leads to the point of this post …
Life’s short.
Far too short to spend it with pricks, processes and problems that take more from us than add to us … and yet most of us find ourselves doing exactly that in some way. Every single day.
Of course I appreciate it is rarely out of choice, but it happens because life is always happening … but what the results in is us often failing to appreciate what’s passing us by.
Or worse, what’s getting ready to say goodbye.
I think about ‘lasts’ quite a lot.
Last meal.
Last hug.
Last laugh.
Last conversation.
A last and final goodbye.
And while we rarely know when the end is going to come, the one thing we can do to counter it is to be present in the things that make us happy and the lives of those who matter most.
Not just when death is approaching, but when opportunity is screaming.
Which is why I hope this post might inspire someone to make the time to make that call.
To a loved one.
A friend.
A family member.
A colleague.
A significant other.
A significant other, you’ve never shared that with.
A person you’ve let a pointless disagreement become a stranger.
Because if losing one of those people hurts, I can assure you knowing you let them go before they even left is even worse.
Life isn’t perfect.
It can be messy and complicated.
Which is why the connections that matter should be all that matters.
However unlikely, inconvenient or challenging they may be to sustain.
Last thing.
I get this sounds like I’m sad. Well I am. But here’s the thing – so I should be. If I wasn’t, that would be far scarier … so know that I write this because I am good, just frustrated I’ve needed the worst of times to remind me to seize the best of life.
So to September, I say goodbye.
Apart from a couple of special things that happened, you were an asshole, which is why I hereby lay you to rest.
Thank God.
Filed under: Chaos, Colleagues, Cynic, Death, Life, Love, Loyalty, Respect
Earlier this week, I – along with the rest of the cynic mob – received some terribly sad news.
Billy … known as Billy Whizz, and an old cynic colleague and prolific insulter in the early days of this blog … passed away.
He was 45.
He was a brilliant, talented, infectious maniac.
Writer.
Partier.
Trouble maker.
Mischief conductor.
Failed philanderer.
He was the storm that whipped up the best trouble.
And as much as he would do his best to hide his smarts behind his dumbass chic, he never could quite contain it.
Of course not, it was brigher than the sun.
Now 45 is far too young an age but to be fair to him, he used to tell us all he was shocked he was still here when he was 21.
Part of that was because he was always lived like he was driving at 100mph.
Along a narrow road.
On a sheer cliff
At night.
With the lights off.
In the rain.
And while he knew he was being dangeorous – always on the cusp of having a crash – it was also where he was his happiest, the beautiful idiot.
In many ways he was the glue that made the chaos of cynic produce infectious harmony … and while the photo above is not the typical ‘in memory’ pic, I know if anyone would approve of it, it would be Billy.
Taken at the cynic Christmas party in 2003 … it will be forever be known for being the precursor to what we called the infamous ‘vomit bucket’ incident.
He was so proud of causing that, which sums up every part of his manic, foolish brilliance.
I hoped I could be at his funeral in Rome this Saturday, but sadly my eye has put paid to that. I am devastated I will not be able to pay my final respects and say my last goodbyes, but I’m so glad so many of the cynic mob will be there to do it for the rest of us.
Which is why I want to leave this post with this.
Hey Billy. You asshole. Why did you go and die?
Well you have so I need to tell you something.
Some of my best ‘terrible memories’ revolve around you and your wild ways.
I hope that makes you happy and proud. It should, because the best lives have the stupidest stories and you were the author of more than a few of mine.
They say “you only live once but if you do it right, once is all you need”. Well, you definitely did it right … which helps me come to terms with why you left so soon.
I’m so sorry and sad you’ve gone my friend. I’ll think of you in every storm.
Till we meet again … probably in the back alleys of hell.
Love you.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Bonnie, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Family, Fatherhood, Jewellery, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Relationships, Resonance, Respect
On Friday I talked about the ring that had replaced my lost wedding ring.
A wedding ring that had been made to combine both my Dad’s wedding ring and the one given to me by Jill.
I wrote how this new ring had – thank god – been able to incorporate some of Dad’s ring [that I’d had left when I had it resized] as well as some things from Jill’s ring [that she kindly donated to me] so that it was something of real significance and sentimental value to me.
I treasure it.
It’s far more than the metal it’s made of.
But recently I saw something that reminded me why it is so significant.
This …
I don’t know why, but the thought I will [hopefully] know Otis more as an adult than a kid completely fucked with me.
Of course he will always be ‘my child’ but being the person I see every day … the person I watch growing up in front of me … the person he turns to for laughs, help, advice or an audience … the person who loves and hugs his dog … is something I treasure deep in my psyche and soul.
As I wrote before, while all parents know their kids grow up fast, what makes it tolerable is that as they develop … they learn or express new things that you adore, which helps offsets the sadness of seeing the old things you loved, fall away.
But there will be a time where you don’t get to see this growth every day.
Where you aren’t their World, you’re just a part of it. One associated more with the past than the present.
Back in 2016, I wrote about that – based on an brilliant article in The Guardian – and fuck me, if it was hard to deal with then, it’s even harder to accept 9 years later as we get closer and closer to a time he will move on, that you know is coming but wish wasn’t.
That doesn’t mean you don’t want your child to have their own life.
To forge their own interests and passions and journeys moving forward.
But the idea of being relegated to ‘observer’ is hard, even though – as my parents showed with me – it is one of the greatest gift you could ever give your child.
The values to live.
The lessons to progress.
The encouragement to explore.
The freedom to build write your own story.
What brought this all to a head was a video I watched of Michelle Obama recently, talking about her Mum.
“Wow, this went fast”.
Not just watching your child become an adult, but life.
And as much as Mae West said: “you only live once, but if you do it right … once is all you need”, the reality is life does go fast.
What makes it more bizarre is that as you get older … as life passes-by slower … it all seems to accelerate at the same time.
Which is why it’s so important to treasure and value what you have.
Not take it for granted.
Not get swept up with the things that – in the big scheme of things – don’t matter.
It’s taken me a long time to learn this.
It’s taken watching my wonderful, brilliant son grow up to really understand this.
Despite watching my amazing Mum and Dad pass, it’s Otis who has helped me appreciate time and life.
Not just with him, but with everyone around me.
Which is why that video of ‘knowing your child more as an adult than a kid’ hit me.
Not because that is bad, but because the moment is so special.
And while growing up is a good and natural thing – which I have obviously been trying to come to terms with for a long time, given I wrote this about Otis becoming an adult back in 2021 – it’s still a reminder that you rarely know you’re living the time of your life, until after it has passed.
It’s why both those videos may have been uncomfortable reminders.
But also beautiful gifts.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Fatherhood, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Nottingham
When I was in Nottingham recently, I walked a lot.
Not simply because that’s what I do these days, but because it had been 18 months since I was last there and I sensed it would be even longer till I’m next there.
I walked around the streets I grew up in, down the roads my friends grew up in … through parks, past shops, along roads I’d only ever driven past when I was older. It was quite an emotional thing and I was left realizing how lucky I was to grow up in West Bridgford.
I never properly understood that.
For me, it was simply where I grew up … but because I’ve now lived in many places, across many countries [and because it was very sunny when I was there – ha] I appreciated what a special place it was. It is.
Of course, a big part of that is how much it has developed over the years – filled with cafes and independent shops, where previously there was just a ‘hot potato’ cafe and a Boots Chemist – but still, it always felt a haven to me. And in many ways it still does.
Not that I have any intention of moving back there. Maybe once I did … but no more.
The place, as much as I like it, is one filled with ghosts and memories – and while there is a lot to be said for that, I don’t know if I would ever be able to look past that if I moved back.
But it will always be important to me … it will always be a part of me … because it holds the house I grew up in. A house filled with love, memories, laughter and pain. A house where my parents ashes are scattered around their beloved garden.
I drove past the house a few times when I was there.
And I looked at it, feeling it was calling out to me.
A lot has changed since I lived there, but it still has the garden planting pot attached to the house that my Dad built and still has the note we left in the garage when we sold it. That last bit was added to the terms of the sale. That they couldn’t remove it for 20 years … which, having visited it 18 months ago, they have thankfully respected.
I loved that house.
I loved that street.
And while everything is the same, everything is different.
Which is why I was so happy when I went to pay a visit to the cemetery where my parents funerals were held.
Neither were religious and neither had their ashes there, but it was obviously a significant place for me – even if associated with deep sadness – which is why I had ensured I honored their life by having plaques made to be placed on display.
One for Dad in a beautiful rose bush.
One for Mum in a bright sunflower bed.
And then, for both of them, this …
A bench in the grounds of the cemetery, looking out onto the gardens.
It was very emotional finding it.
It felt very personal being with it.
A reconnection to my parents, my childhood, my home.
I’d looked for it – and the rose/sunflowers – last time I was there but couldn’t find it.
The cemetery is vast and would take days to walk everywhere, so was sad when I went away empty handed. But this time, I was determined and while I still couldn’t find the flower plaques, I somehow stumbled on the bench and it made me so happy.
Suddenly my parents were in the present. We were all together again.
And given so much has happened since my Dad passed in 1999, it was a moment for me to bring them up to date and introduce them to the life their beloved son has managed to pull-off. I say ‘pull off’, but the fact is, they gave me the lessons and encouragement that helped so much of it happen.
I miss my parents.
I miss West Bridgford.
But what this visit reinforced to me is you can take the boy away from his roots, but you can’t take the roots away from the boy.
And I’m so, so grateful for that fact.
Filed under: 2025, A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Ambition, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Augustine, Authenticity, Bassot, Blogosphere, Bonnie, Business, Cannes, China, Clients, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Community, Context, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Death, Doctor, Dolly, Dream Bigger, Education, Emotion, Empathy, End of Year, Experience, Family, Friendship, Happiness, Health, Hope, Human Goodness, Imagination, Jill, London, Love, Loyalty, Luck, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Metallica, Miley, Mischief, Music, New Zealand, Nottingham Forest, OnStrategy, Otis, Paula, Perspective, Planes, Planners, Planning, Presenting, Professionalism, Relationships, Relevance, Reputation, Resonance, Ridiculous, Shanghai, Singapore, Standards, Stories, Strategy, Sydney, Tattoo, Wieden+Kennedy
So I know that I’ve only just got back to writing this blog after being away for my eye-op, but today is going to be the last post of this year. Yes, it’s earlier than it normally is. Yes, I will miss reporting on some stuff like the shitshow that was Fuck Off And Pie ’25 [which happened yesterday and was renamed to ‘Fuck Off And Die’ … because the theme was ‘hot spice’] but there’s 2 main reasons why I’m ending this year’s blog today:
1. My eyesight is still pretty bad so typing takes me a bloody age. [Don’t get excited, this blog will be back when I’m back – which is the 19th Jan – over a month away]
2. It’s Otis’ 11th birthday tomorrow and so the rest of this week is all about him.
That said, this will be a long post … not because it needs to make up the 5 weeks or so this blog will be quiet or because I think people want to read what I’m spouting [let’s be honest, does anyone even read this blog anymore?!], but because it serves as a reminder for me of what I’ve done over the past 300+ days.
The reality is, while this years been dominated by my health, it’s been a generally good year.
Yes, there have been some incredibly hard moments … from the tragic passing of 8 people I knew and cared about – that bizarrely all occurred around the same, short period of time – that still deeply affects me to this day through to the individual I once valued and respected highly, who ended up showing me how fragile trust becomes when someone stops meeting you with the same honesty, then denies it, takes no accountability for it, then runs from it.
But even with all that – and it was pretty shit, made more painful by the fact I was contending with my own health dramatics – I feel very fortunate that I still experienced more high points in 2025 than sad. And given how tough this year has been for so many people, I appreciate how fortunate I am to say that.
And what high points they were …
Getting Bonnie … who has not just added such joy to the family, but has helped Otis in ways we could only dream of.
Watching the family thrive, shine and be happy makes everything worthwhile.
I got some lovely new tattoos.
Finding a brilliant new school for Otis that specialises in kids with his particular contexts and conditions.
Seeing some old friends I’ve not seen for years … topped-off by not just seeing Paula after 2 years away, but speaking with her at Cannes, which was extra-special.
Getting a new car … which I appreciate is as indulgent as hell, but it made me very happy until I had to stop driving it because of my eye. Fucking karma, ha.
My Life Vs Time thing that seemed to touch the nerve of a lot of people all over the place.
Wednesday, September 24th … where I found myself sitting on the steps outside Wieden+Kennedy Shanghai on a very warm night – around midnight – chatting to someone I’d met on that trip that turned into one of the seminal memories and moments of my life, despite the fact all we did was chat for a couple of hours and I’ll never see or talk to that person again. But grateful for that moment.
Talking of Wieden+Kennedy …
I went back to see them after 8 years and not only was it lovely – and surprising – to see some old faces, I got to leave some new stickers all over the place.
Now back to other stuff …
I bought a suit. A good suit. Which surprises me as much as it likely shocks you.
Seeing Ange Postecoglou get fired after 39 days of destruction and arrogance.
Working on some incredible projects for people who are truly wonderful, talented and creative humans.
Being overwhelmed with the kindness and generosity of people and clients in relation to my health and wellbeing … with special thanks and gratitude to Peter, who – on behalf of his clients – organized the surgeon who invented the surgical procedure I was going to have, to be part of the team who took on the drama and trauma of my operation. While we are still waiting to see if it was as successful as we all hope, I know I would not be even in this situation without him, the surgeons, the medical staff, my GP – Stephen Sohn – and the optician at Specsavers in Glenfield Mall … who all contributed to this having a shot of a happy ending.
Hanging out with some of the most famous and talented people in the World. Yep … at various points in the year, I found myself having dinner with a music/fashion superstar, an international model, one of the World’s most famous and iconic humans, a Hollywood screenwriter, the family behind one of the World’s most powerful and desirable Italian luxury brands, some Rock Gods and – on a wild 16 hours in NYC – gatecrashing the birthday party of the wife of one of the music industry’s most famous managers where I spent the evening sat between the wives of 2 different Rockstars who were so welcoming and epic before Taylor Swift entered the restaurant. [Culminating in a gift from one of them which was their way of telling me I was now ‘family’, which still blows my mind]
Having Metallica come to NZ after over a decade away, including a cup of tea at my house for some special guests.
Travelling a lot … including FOUR visits to my beloved China where, on one trip, I got to show some of my Colenso colleagues around for their first time there.
Talking of Colenso ….
We made some properly good work [of which, I’m particularly proud of the Family Roast stuff we did for Medibank for a whole bunch of different reasons and you can see the ad here, and the game here] , launched the brilliant ‘Dream Bigger’ book, won a bunch of international awards [though seeing us not win, we should have, was annoying – ha] and got to host/meet Fergus and his OnStrategy podcast in NZ.
In addition, while it was sad to see Martin and Augustine leave Colenso, I got to see them do great things on their new adventures while also getting to welcome James and Miz – who fitted in like they had been here for years. [Not to mention the wonderfulness of the team at large, who kept me learning, thinking]
As you can see, that’s a lot of good things … more than I probably deserve … but I am grateful for all of them.
Almost as grateful as I am for my son Otis.
Tomorrow, he turns 11. ELEVEN!!!
How the fuck has that happened? And while he has gone through many schools and classes in Shanghai, LA, London, Hundson and Auckland … the fact he is about to end his ‘primary school’ journey seems particularly momentous.
And yet, despite all these changes … and despite his dysgraphia challenges … he has handled it all so brilliantly of which one thing I am very proud of, is his ability to express when it is all getting too much for him.
I appreciate that may sound weird for a parent to be proud of … but I am.
Because if he feels comfortable enough to say when stress and anxiety is beginning to take hold, not only we can help him deal with it – in collaboration with his teachers who have generally been very supportive – it means we have created an environment where he feels safe and seen, and that means the World to us. And hopefully to him too.
He’s such a good kid, surrounded by other good kids.
Cheeky, mischievous, supportive, funny, passionate, compassionate. honorable, curious and independent.
And while they will all be going to different schools in the new year, I am confident they will maintain their friendship. Part of that is because of the way New Zealand works … but part of that is because of the bond they have. One built on more than just proximity, but a real connection based on shared interests, values and energy.
It took me a long time to realise how much energy plays into just how much you connect and relate to people.
Maybe that’s because I’m slow and stupid … but energy matching seems to be the real heart of connection. At least deep connection. And while Otis has met kids who share that with him in every country we’ve lived – most notably, his beloved Elodie in LA – he’s met more in NZ.
Of course, part of that is because he’s older and exposed to more … but for a kid that doesn’t really love the ‘outdoor life’ as is celebrated by all Kiwi’s [which, to be fair, is just like his old man] he’s definitely met his ‘peeps’ here. Maybe that’s why he has said that – while he knows we will leave NZ at some point in the future – he will want to come back and live here. And if that’s not the biggest compliment to the people of NZ, I don’t know what is. Which explains why that as much as my heart belongs to China, my gratitude will forever be with NZ.
So to my dear Otis …
Happy birthday my wonderful son.
I can’t put into words how much I love you but I can say how proud I am to be able to call myself ‘your Dad’.
I hope you have a wonderful day playing Geometry Dash and I can’t wait to celebrate your birthday with you and your friends this weekend.
Big love, hugs and laughs from your Dad, Mum and pooch.
Love you.
Rx
I’ve probably missed stuff to celebrate but this post is already too long so let me end it by saying a big thank you to everyone who has played a part in the good parts of my year as well as those who have popped by to read my rubbish on here.
Without wishing to sound too sentimental, but I am more grateful to you than you may ever know and I hope – whatever you are doing or celebrating – it soothes any pain you are feeling and/or elevates any happiness you’re experiencing.
Just don’t have a better time or better presents than I hopefully will receive over this period – hahaha.
And with that, I’ll see you on the 19th Jan 2026, and here’s to it being a better year than the shitstorm it has been for so many.
Hopefully … with almost 6 weeks of blog freedom, I’m starting it off on a positive.
See you on the other side.
Rx