Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Audiences, Business, Childhood, Context, Culture, Food, Food For Thought, Happiness, Mum & Dad, My Childhood
Recently, I saw this article on Linkedin …

While I appreciate their point, it felt like another example of someone who only sees the world through their own perspective.
And while that’s common – which is why I normally ignore it – the slight diss towards strategists made me bite.
Hence I responded with this …

While I hope it didn’t come across too judgmental or condescending, I also hope my point is made …
Not just in terms of planners being the last people in marketing who are deliberately ignorant, but that one persons ‘reliably not shit’ is another persons ‘taste of the good life’.
As I said in the post, when I was growing up, we would only go out for dinner once – a max – twice a year.
Either to Trattoria Antonio – an Italian Restaurant on Trent Bridge.
Or the Berni Inn, which was called – for added attempt at sophistication – ‘The Chateau’.
Here’s a pic of the place that – sadly – is no longer there. Knocked down to be turned into another faceless shopping industrial estate.

In fact, it was The Chateau where I experienced a lot of my ‘firsts’ where certain foods are concerned …
Steak.
Broccoli.
Onion Rings.
Knickerbockerglory.
My god, I thought it was fancy-as-fuck and to a young kid from Nottingham, it was.
Hell, I still remember being confused by how they advertised their ‘2 courses for 5 quid’ promotion … because they made it sound like it was a bargain when for me/my folks, that was still pricey. Strangely though, I never associated it with lower quality food – such was my lack of exposure to what steak cost or was supposed to taste like, hahaha.
Maybe that’s why I still prefer eating the ‘cheaper-end’ of food rather than the fancy stuff I’ve since been exposed to and experienced … and why every marketer, planner, creative or suit needs to remember if you base audiences on who you want them to be or what your personal perspective and context is, then you may find you’re not just talking to yourself, but that might be the only person you’re talking to.

Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Comment, Effectiveness, Food, Happiness, Health

Once upon a time, I was very athletic.
I played rugby for the school.
I was one of the fastest 100m runners in the county.
I played football with my mates every single night of the week.
I loved everything, and then – aged 21 – I got a detached retina and everything changed.
The seriousness and fragility of my eye meant anything that could cause trauma was off limits – so apart from not being allowed to do any sport, I wasn’t even allowed to lift anything heavy … and so very quickly, I went from active life, to sedentary life.
Unsurprisingly – yet ironically – the impact of this shift meant that while my eye was OK, the rest of me wasn’t.
And this was my normal for over 30 years.
That doesn’t mean I was happy with what was happening, I wasn’t. In fact, in my darkest days, I really hated it. I hated me.
Who I was. How I looked. How I felt.
And what made things worse was I didn’t know how I could change it.
My eye was still fragile. My work was full-on. And food was one of the only things that gave me momentary joy.
But – as I have documented in the past – things changed 2 years ago when I was convinced to eat well for 3 months.
What’s hilarious is this was not because of my weight, but something else entirely … but something inside of me clicked, and I mentally chose to do it, rather than argue against it.
One of the biggest surprises was how much I relied on food to manage stress. You’d think that would have been obvious but it wasn’t. I remember how one of the things I did was go for a walk every time I found myself going to the fridge outside of breakfast, lunch or dinner.
So I walked a lot.
A hell of a lot.
So much so that it not only was the biggest contributor to me getting healthy again – arguably, healthier than I ever have been – but it got me falling in love with walking and now, running.
That image at the top of the page is a perfect example of that. It is my December result.
That’s right, I walked over 750,000 steps. Over 550 kms.
For someone who used to complain about walking the bin up his drive, that’s pretty amazing.
But then, it was December as I’ve detailed many a time … NZ festive season holidays are brilliantly long.
However, just to prove that was not a fluke, here’s the results of last week.

Yep, proportionally, I walked more than when I was on holiday!
How?
Well, let’s just say I have a lot of walking meetings …
Plus, the more I walk, the more I can eat the bad stuff I bloody love, haha.
But this is just to say, if exercise freaks you out, start with walking … doesn’t matter how far you go … because as long as you do a little bit each day, you’ll not just seamlessly improve on what you can do, but also who you are and who you can become.
Not because weight defines that, but feeling a bit healthier does.
Happy to chat to anyone who wants help with it.
Probably while I’m out walking.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Asia, Auckland, Authenticity, Bonnie, Cats, China, Comment, Content, Context, Craft, Creativity, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Design, Emotion, England, Family, Freddie, Happiness, Harmony, Jill, LaLaLand, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Names, Otis, Queen, Resonance, Respect, Rosie, Shanghai, Tattoo

I got my first tattoo when I was 42.
I was holidaying in LA, saw a tattoo shop and – after some encouragement from my friend Paul – went in and had a big one on the underside of my arm.
Hey, nothing like jumping all in eh.
But from that moment, the tattoo became something very important to me.
To be honest, I’d always wanted one but chickened out because of the fear of pain – but not only did it not hurt at all [in fact I fall asleep when I have them] I discovered it the ultimate way to express my sentimentality towards people, dates and things that held a very significant place in my life.
Since that day way back in 2012, I’ve had loads of tattoos.
Birthdays.
Postcodes.
Phone numbers.
Signatures.
Names, pictures and paws of pets.
Honoring Mum, Dad, Jill, Otis and China.
Personal philosophies and heroes.
Nottingham Forest and Queen.
Some weird shit for some friends.
And nods to LA, UK, NZ and Italy.
There’s not one that I regret because each and every one of them is there for a reason.
No ‘moments of stupidity’.
No ‘this would be good for a laugh’.
No ‘tribal or badly translated rubbish’.
Each tattoo represents something deeply important and significant to me – even if to the causal observer, it may look like I have a bunch of random and weird stuff across my arms.
I say all this because recently, Otis asked if I had any tattoos for him, to which I proudly pointed to the one of his name and his date of birth.
And while he seemed moderately pleased with this, it apparently wasn’t enough because he asked if he could design one … a tattoo that captured who he was and what he believed. And I stupidly said ‘yes’, which is why I am currently in negotiations with him to decide which of these will be inked upon my body in the next few weeks.

For the record, the reason the potential designs are all in type is because I don’t have any room on my arms for a picture and he wants to ensure it is something that can be – and will be – seen at all times, haha.
Now before you think I’m blindly pandering to my son’s whims and wants … he genuinely loves rice. In fact he has it every night for dinner which he claims is because he was born in China … so while his tastes may well change or evolve over time, ‘Rice Is Life’ does capture who he is and what he believes, which means – for me – it ticks all the criteria boxes needed to go out and make it a permanent symbol on my body.
The ad industry could learn from kids for their powers of persuasion.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Children, Complicity, Culture, Daddyhood, Dance, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Family, Fatherhood, Generosity, Happiness, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Respect

A few years ago, I wrote about how some people think they have the right to judge your kid.
And your parenting.
I also noted how I’d been suckered into validating their commentary.
Until I came to my senses.
The story is Otis was – and still is – an energetic kid.
When we lived in Shanghai, LA and London, we would go out a lot and he would be a whirlwind of excited, happy energy.
It was – admitedly – relentless.
Whether 3pm or 3am, he seemed to always want to play, smile, laugh, do things with his adoring parents.
Often, when we were out, we would see people looking at him running around the park, shouting to himself … and then saying to me, “he’s got a lot of energy hasn’t he?”
And while they weren’t saying it as a diss, they weren’t saying it as a compliment either.
What makes it worse is I would reply with a weary, “you better believe it”.
Then one day I realised what I was doing.
My son … my wonderful, brilliant, joyous son was being judged by his Dad.
Worse, he did it to let perfect strangers feel justified in their fucked-up judgement.
What the hell?!
Otis wasn’t doing anything wrong … plus he was 2 or 3 years old for fucks sake.
More than that, he has always had a very strong sense of justice and fairness and so the last thing he would ever want to do is cause others discomfort.
And he wasn’t, he was just running around … exploering and experiencing the World.
I felt an immense amount of anger – more at myself, but definitely at the ‘critics’ as well – and vowed that would never happen again.
And it didn’t and it doesn’t.
Because when anyone said/say’s that to me about Otis, I now reply … “I know, isn’t it great”, and they always look at me before slowly nodding, either because they feel they have to or because they realise the problem isn’t my kid, but their increasingly small mindedness and old-person energy.
I say this because I recently watched this …
I am sure there will be people out there who will say it’s unprofessional.
That her actions are encouraging her child to be more ‘needy and demanding’.
That she just made a huge career limiting move, undermining all the hard work she has put in.
And they’re entitled to their opinion except it doesn’t matter.
Not in the slightest, however much you think it does or tell yourself it does.
Hell, even if you were one of the judges critiquing her dance, it doesn’t … because while you may have a certain amount of power in your hands in terms of what the implications of her actions will be, the reality is they won’t care.
Because whatever you think is more important than their child, you’re wrong.
They may do things you wouldn’t.
They may value things that you think they shouldn’t.
Their child may need things you would never consider.
But it’s NOT YOUR CHILD so it literally doesn’t matter.
In fact, unless you think the child is in real danger – or a cause of real danger to others – you should be minding your own business. And even if they are in – or causing – danger, your actions should be pointed to people who can legally or professionally help, rather than think you have unconditional rights.
I love what this gymnast did.
For me, it was beautiful both in terms of her talent and her love.
Even more so, at a time where Linkedin is overflowing with people acting like ‘winning justifies any sacrifice’.
With AI impacting our lives in increasingly dramatic ways, ‘family’ is the one thing AI can never replace.
It will try.
But it will fail.
Because while family is universal, it’s deeply personal and individual … which is why the best advice for anyone thinking of discussing/judging/commenting on the innocent actions or behaviour of a child that isn’t yours, is this.
“Are you the parents of the child?”
If not, SHUT THE FUCK UP.
You’re welcome.
Good news: I am away until Friday so you can enjoy a few days peace after that rant-fest.
You’re welcome. Again.



