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.
Today is September 11, and while there are many young people out there who may not appreciate – or understand – its significance, it’s a date for many that will live on in history.
That’s not being disrespectful, I literally heard of a story where a young adult – in the US no less – who had no idea of its significance. Thinking, I kid you not, it referred to an overseas version of Seven-11, the convenience store group.
While it would be easy to judge them, they were not even born when it happened – even though I wasn’t born when man landed on the moon but I certainly know it happened.
Or did it? Haha.
[As an aside, I once had to do a talk to a lot of oil execs in Texas and one of my references was about the moon landing. After talking about it, I leant into the mic and said – jokingly – “that is if they did happen”. I wasn’t just met with silence, but also the look of 500 people staring back at me looking like they wanted to kill me. Oops]
But back to today, back in 2001.
Well, for me, it’s certainly a day I will never forget.
I was living in Australia at the time and just stared at the TV in despair as the horror unfolded.
But for some people in my life, what happened that day was even much more personal and destructive.
One was a wonderful client of mine who lost their sister in the tragedy.
The others were Andy and Dave … my ex-cynic colleagues and ‘friends’ of this blog..
We don’t talk much about what they went – and still are – going through anymore, but I know it tested them in ways few people will, thankfully, never have to experience. However while they have somehow been able to deal with the pain and pick up the pieces to somehow keep moving forwards, I know today will thrust an assortment of memories and questions on them – memories and questions from before that day and memories and questions from that day – so I just want them to know I’m thinking of them, sending them hugs, letting them know I’m so glad they’re in my life.
Even with the insults.
Love you gentlemen and see you soon.
And love to all the families who were – and continue to be – affected on this day.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Collegues, Context, Doctor, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Eye, Family, Friendship, Health, Nurses
Yep, that’s me.
Looking more and more like a pirate.
In fact all I need is a hook and a hat and my metamorphosis will be complete.
Sadly, I don’t look like this because I am going to a fancy dress party, I look like this because I’m going blind.
Good news. Only in one eye.
Bad news. The other eye is fucked from years ago.
I’ve written a bunch this year about my ‘new’ eye problem … how it seemingly came from nowhere when I was holidaying in Penang at Christmas.
I’ve also written how it is part of a rare, auto-immune disease that’s been triggered by the trauma my other eye experienced when I was 21.
I know, it makes little sense … but the upshot is my eye is getting worse – not better – which is humbling, frustrating and terrifying.
What makes it more painful is no one knows what triggered the disease in the first place, nor do they know what is causing it to sustainably resist all the treatment despite all the tests I’ve had, and having.
And boy, have I had a lot.
Injections.
Laser.
Drops.
Photographs.
Scans.
Blood-tests.
So many eye tests, I know all the letters without looking at them. Hahaha.
I’ve been seen by optometrists, surgeons, specialists and – because it is such a ‘unique’ problem – a fuckload of medical students.
Hell, the chief surgeon called me a ‘medical celebrity’ … possibly the best backhanded compliment ever articulated.
And while an operation in November will hopefully dramatically slow down the speed of my vision loss – potentially even restoring some of it – they’ve already told me I will be facing a lifetime of treatment and care.
The problem is my eye is a fucking diva.
The disease – if left untreated – will take away all of my vision.
The medicine for that creates massive pressure that can also take away my vision.
And the pressure meds are causing weird cataracts that are already robbing me of my sight.
[And no Andy, it has nothing to do with the size of font I use on this blog … though now, when I write a post, I have to make it so big that it could easily double as a fucking billboard]
So for the Doctors, it’s like a giant game of whack-a-mole, just with eyes …
Or said another way:
My eye is a perfect storm of fucked-up, pain-in-the-ass, one-in-a-million problems.
Aren’t I lucky, hahaha.
Now, before this gets too depressing, I appreciate that compared to many, I am in an incredibly good position.
I’m not just saying that, I mean it.
I have great doctors and nurses looking out for me, which I’m incredibly grateful for. On top of that, I’ve been brilliantly supported by everyone around me – including my team, everyone at Colenso, all our clients and the artists I work for, which is epic, because it’s definitely made life more difficult for them all.
Plus I’m in the best physical – eye aside – shape of my life.
Annnnnd the operation in November offers me some real hope and positivity about the future [for my eye, at least – ha] albeit it’s not a dead cert by any stretch of the imagination.
However I must admit, even with all this good stuff, the worry of seeing [excuse the pun] the potential loss of my independence is not a great feeling.
Without positive and successful intervention, my eye will be able to fuck me up in ways past bosses and colleagues only dreamed of pulling off:
From robbing me of my ability to drive.
To robbing me being able to travel with ease.
To robbing me of my ability to experience different forms of art.
To, albeit much, much further down the road, robbing me of my ability to work.
And then – worst of all – robbing me of my ability to see my brilliant son growing-up.
I know that’s all worse case scenario … I also know I’ll find a way to adapt if/when I get to this situation … but it doesn’t feel great. Though what’s strange is it’s less about the loss of my vision and more about the loss of my relevance.
By that I don’t mean in terms of my career – though that isn’t exactly awesome either, haha – but more in terms of being able to contribute to life:
My life.
My families life.
My friends lives.
My teams lives.
My colleagues lives.
My clients lives.
Societies life.
Maybe for the first time I’ve realized how important all that is to me.
Not because I see myself as some sort of’saviour’ or any bullshit like that, just I find real joy in helping people find theirs.
And while I am sure many people have experienced or discovered this revelation – be it because of age, gender or health situation – it served as an important reminder to me about what ‘value’ really means.
Because while titles, money, success and popularity are all very nice, feeling you’re connected and contributing to life is maybe even more vital.
How fucking ironic I’ve only been able to see this because I may not be able to see anything in the future.
Life certainly knows how to write the darkest of comedies.
And I certainly know how to write the most depressing post on a Monday. Ever.
Of course, the really bad news is that ‘talk to text’ technology means that even if the worst happens sooner rather than later, I can still rant on this blog. Which may sound terrible to you, but is quite lovely to me.
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As an aside, nothing has shown how much of a previous generation I belong to than trying to use ‘talk to text’. I “ummmmm” and “ahhhh” and take about 10 goes to say the simplest command or sentence … whereas Otis – who uses it a lot because of his dysgraphia – is clear and concise first time, every time. Regardless what he is expressing or trying to make a machine do. Proving I am from the generation where type was power, whereas the future – and kids – are all about voice
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But in all seriousness, while this post is depressing as fuck – I’m OK. I just needed to get it out of my system.
Not for sympathy or a cry for help, but just to get it out …
Because as weird as it may sound, now I own ‘it’ rather than ‘it’ owns me, and that’s helped me remember the one thing I know I’m good at which is being a fucking competitive piece of shit, so now I’m sure I can give it a good fight rather than let it have an easy win.
Even more so if the op in November goes well.
And if things do go south … then I’ll have a good excuse for my bad spelling and dress sense. Plus I’ll officially be more pirate than any person at TBWA will ever be. So they’ll either have to hire me into old age to maintain their agency positioning or I’ll get to Lord it over them for the rest of my days.
Win:Win:Win in every way.
Jesus, is this post ending on a high?
I think it is …
What fucking rollercoaster of a rant … but kinda perfect for a Monday.
So with that, have a good day, normal bullshit returns tomorrow. Promise.
Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Bassot, Career, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Contribution, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, England, Experience, Friendship, London, Management, Planners, Planning, R/GA, Wieden+Kennedy
I have always taken hiring people very seriously.
For me, it’s more than professional … it’s personal.
A sense of responsibility to help whoever comes on board discover who they can become, rather than just do the job that needs to be done.
Part of this is because – as I’ve written many times – I believe my role is to ensure than when they leave [as all people eventually do] they go to a job they never thought they could get.
Where they’re hired for who they are, not just what they do.
For what they’ve made, rather than just what they know.
For how they see the world, not just for how they do their job.
And how do I do that?
By helping create the conditions and the opportunities for them to be great.
That’s it.
My attitude is that the talent is already inside of them – otherwise they wouldn’t be hired in the first place – and my job is to help them see it, believe it and do things with it.
That said, talent is only half the equation … the other is character.
Who they are.
How they act.
How they interact.
As I’ve also written before, I believe in having a gang rather than a department.
A team full of different experiences, mindsets, backgrounds and ideas … but united through their values, standards and love of the work.
Because of that, it is important that anyone who joins has the character to add to the identity of the team rather than just duplicate it.
Or said another way: they need to be someone people enjoy being in a room with, even when we’re discussing, debating and arguing.
Which we do, a lot.
I suppose this is why I feel such a genuine sense of gratitude when someone agrees to be part of our team.
For me, it’s a big demonstration of faith in me/us and I don’t take lightly … which is why the only thing that beats it is when someone agrees to join me for a second time – even though I then worry about their sanity.
What is this all about?
Well, it’s a very convoluted way to write about Martin Bassot.
Back in 2017, I worked with Martin at R/GA London.
In fact, he was the very first person there to tell me to “fuck off”.
I should point out he didn’t say it aggressively, more a response to some cheeky-shit thing I probably did/said, but the moment he said it, I was in ‘HR appropriate’ love.
I know that makes me sound slightly unhinged, but it meant he was comfortable enough with me that we could debate freely and never let it get personal … and that’s a big thing for me.
But it only got better … because over the following months, I got to see someone with real talent and character … someone who could make a real difference to the ideas and craft, which is why I was both proud and sad when he told me he was off to join my ‘other family’, W+K London.
Zoom forward a few years and I’m in New Zealand at Colenso and rang him up.
“Hey …” I said, “… you know how you talked about always wanting to live overseas, how about coming to NZ?”
There was a pause before he replied, “I was thinking somewhere more like Amsterdam”
But he still came.
Uprooted his – and his partners life – to come to the other side of the World.
For me.
Well, not FOR me, but also not excluding me.
And he has been brilliant. Even better than I knew he would be … and I knew he’d be great.
He developed into a really great number 2 for me … helping lead some really great work, develop some really great people in the team and help achieve some really great results for the clients we work with.
I use the past tense because after 2½ years, he is going home. Again.
I was tempted to use the same post I wrote about him last time he left me, but he deserves more than that. Probably. At a push.
In all seriousness – and without wishing to sound an old, old bastard – I am very proud of him.
What he’s done.
How he’s done it.
And most importantly, who he is.
He’s left an indelible mark on the team, the agency and the work.
And in the time he’s been here, we’ve hopefully done the same for him because he leaves with memories, experience, fans, work, Cannes Grand Prix’s, LBB Immortal Awards and Agency of the Year titles and a lot of empty crisp packets.
And I mean, A LOT of empty crisp packets.
So all in all, it’s not a bad set of achievements for little over two years.
Back when I pitched the idea of NZ to him, I said “Come for an adventure and go back better and more experienced than you’d be if you stayed in London”.
I think it’s fair to say we both did what we hoped and promised each other.
And while I’m obviously sad he’s going, I’m very excited about his next adventure.
The agency who has hired him – and there were many who wanted to – are very lucky, but they’re also very smart … because they saw him for who he is today rather than who he was 2+ years ago. What that means is they not only took the time to properly understand who he is and what he can – and wants – to do, they shaped the role to enable it rather than just hire him and then ask him to fit in with what they have.
For someone who will always deeply care about Martin, it makes me very happy that is the environment he’s heading into.
Doesn’t mean it will be easy.
Doesn’t mean he won’t have to work fucking hard.
But it does mean he’s been set up to win not just to fit in.
I suppose the best compliment I can give Martin is this.
Despite working together twice before, I really hope I get to work with him again.
Even if next time, it’s far more likely I’ll be working for him rather than the other way around.
But even then it would be a pleasure.
So thank you Martin, for everything.
At the end of the day, the best thing you can hope you can do in a job is make a difference and you did that and some. [Though I must admit, one of the things I’ll remember most about your time here is the lunch we had in some weird Chinese restaurant in the middle of Canada, as we listened to Forest beat Palace in the last minute. That and Colenzob-do, of course]
So know you’re going to be missed, respected and always adored.
And with that, it just leaves me to say, fuck off Martin.
Said with love. Always and forever.
[There’s no more posts for over a week, not just because I need to get over Martin’s departure, but it’s a holiday and then I’m off to China … so see you in a week and please pray with me that Martin’s plane home gets delayed for about 12 more months, haha.]
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Death, Deutsch, Donn, Family, Fashion, Friendship, Love, Otis
So I’m back and it was, as expected, amazing.
Obviously I have a deep love of Asia, but I have a special place in my heart for Vietnam.
Anyone who knows anything about history will understand the creativity of the place, be that its food, its art, its industry or its ability to find ways to beat every enemy who has tried to invade in the last 1000 years.
So it’s little surprise that Spikes Asia chose to hold their judging for the creative and strategy awards there … which meant I got to see some phenomenal work, some great friends and some awesome tourist stuff.
Oh, and my eye generally held up [but unfortunately not totally, hence trips back to the hospital and meds for a bit longer] but all in all it was a really fucking great week.
But I know there’s nothing worse than hearing someone talk about how great things were for them when you were stuck in the office dealing with shit so to try and win back some errrrrm, favour, let me tell you a little story.
One day – hopefully a long time in the future – my son, Otis, will go to a lawyer to hear the reading of his old mans ‘last will and testament’.
Hopefully, when he hears there’s not much left, he will find this post featuring the latest photograph someone has sent me linked to something I did to/for them a few years back [and let’s be honest, there are a TON of them] thinks, “my Dad was a mischievous sod”, rather than – as I fear – “my Dad went broke buying stupid shit to embarrass/take-the-piss out of people he loved”.
Mind you, given I love every fibre of that kid, its safe to say he will have a lot of stuff to remember me by.
Even if it might be [read: probably is] stuff he’d rather forget.
Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers.
Thank you for giving me a smile Donn … given I bought you that jumper back in 2018, it would suggest 2 things.
1. It may offer me the best ROI of anything I’ve ever bought in my life.
2. You should stay well away from Harper’s softball buddies Dad and his weird internet browsing habits.
Always looking out for you Donn. You special bloody human.