Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Australia, China, Dad, Death, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis
I think my Mum would be strangely happy that I almost forgot to write this post today.
And I did … only realizing last weekend today was the 11th anniversary of my Mum dying.
It’s not even the first time this has happened …
So how come I nearly forgot today – one of the worst days of my entire life – and why do I think Mum be happy about it?
Well, let’s do the practical reasons first …
I write this blog weeks in advance and so sometimes I don’t even think about the date they will appear, I just load them up to be automatically put out. That said, I’ve never nearly forgotten when it is Dad’s anniversary … however that’s a bit different to Mum’s in so much as he died in mid-January and so that tends to be one of the first posts I write every year, coming out the festive holiday season.
But that’s more of an assumptive rationale …
The fact is both my parents blessed me with an amazing childhood and upbringing. I’ve written so much about them over the years – from their endless encouragement to their demonstration of what love really means – and the loss of them was, without doubt, the hardest and biggest challenges I’ve ever had to face and deal with in my life.
But Dad died first – 16 years before Mum – and while I’d experienced the death of people close to me before, that was the one that was the most direct in terms of impact, importance and shock. It meant it took me years before I could think of Dad as the Dad I grew up with … rather than the person he became after his stroke robbed him of who he was and how he was.
But Dad’s passing opened up the ability for Mum and I to talk about death … and we did. A lot.
Not in an ‘impending doom’ kind-of-way … more in terms of the reality of what we’d faced and had to accept and learn.
It meant this was very much top of mind when Mum was going in for her operation. Maybe not spoken about openly, but definitely something that was in eachother’s minds. In fact, it was only after Mum had died – when the operation to extend her life, sadly failed due to a childhood issue that had gone undiagnosed – that I discovered just how much Mum had been thinking about it.
That she had written me ‘notes’ in case the worst happened – featuring information I’d need to make organizing her estate easier – is still one of the most powerful demonstrations of unconditional love I’ve ever seen. Though it still breaks my heart how she must have felt writing them – knowing that she was having to face her own mortality, on her own, while I was on the other side of the planet.
That said – as I wrote the morning she died – we’d found a lovely rhythm in the final few years.
We’d always had a wonderful relationship but there was a period where a few niggles had entered our interactions … nothing much, just a little tension caused by me wanting to take care of her and her wanting to fiercely protect her independence and have me look after myself and my future more. But we’d got past that by realizing both us were coming from a place of love … so we made allowances for each others needs, which meant she let me put money in her bank account every month and I didn’t mind that she never spent a penny of it. Haha.
And while the days leading up to her death will be forever burned in my mind, my memory of Mum has never been stuck in that period, like it was for Dad for all those years. I don’t know why but I’m grateful for it.
Maybe it’s because I became better equipped emotionally after Dad died?
Maybe it’s because Otis was born 3 months before Mum passed and so that period was consumed with happy thoughts throughout that time?
Or maybe it’s because I’d seen Mum a lot before she died – every month for 6 months or so – and so saw the impact of her heart condition on her health – meaning it was less of a surprise to me, even though I thought the operation was going to make things better?
Who knows … but while today will always be significant in my mind, it’s not the main thing that immediately comes to mind. Instead I think of the conversations we had when I came to visit … the pasta she would lovingly make for me … the look of happy surprise on her face when I turned up unannounced from Australia … the tennis she’d play with me on the patio in the back garden in summer when I was a small kid … the joy on her face when she learned she was going to be a Grandma … the stories she would tell me of the films or comedians or concerts she’d gone to see … the quiet contentment we felt when we were in the same room together, even if nothing was being said.
I think of those things WELL before anything to do with her dying.
I think of her grace, her kindness, her love, her curiosity, and her compassion.
I think of how much I wish she could see the grandson she never met, but adored.
I think of how she will never know I lived in America and back in England and now NZ.
I think of how she would react to Bonnie. [And the news of Rosie]
I think of how she would react to ‘healthy me’.
I think of how lucky I was – and am – to be able to call her my Mum.
And that’s why, I am sure Mum would be happy that I almost forgot to write this post …
Because it means her memory is alive and present in my life and that means she achieved what she hoped for most in her life.
That she was a good Mum.
And she was. And still is.
I miss you Mum. I hope you’re with Dad, holding hands.
I love you.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Colenso, Comment, Family, Home, Jill, London, Love, New Zealand, Otis, Rosie
5 years ago today, we landed in Auckland.
FIVE BLOODY YEARS!
That’s the 3rd longest I’ve ever lived in a single place.
NZ was never on the plan, but Colenso was a place I’d always loved and so when they reached out post-R/GA redundancy [which came about by the then ‘shocking’ way I promoted my redundancy, which was covered by The Guardian Newspaper], it was suddenly a real option – made even more desirable after Jill told me [having mentioned they’d got back in touch] that “it would be nice to be closer to my Mum”.
Up until then, I thought we were going back to the US, but not only did I feel I needed to do something for the woman who I’d dragged all over the World after telling her we’d only have be away from Australia for a max of 2 years [Ahem!] both NZ and Colenso offered us things that were much more where we were and what we needed in our lives and work right then – from being cool with letting me continue doing my private projects through to giving us an escape path from Covid-ridden England … that is until it arrived in New Zealand and put us back in bloody lockdown, hahaha.
[That said, our immigration hotel – The Ibis – was in Hamilton, and as people from NZ will know, it was good prep, ha]
That said, it took a lot for us to get there.
First was getting approval to travel to NZ … then there was getting a spot in the quarantine hotel … that had to also align with the insanely limited flights to NZ … which was made harder by needing to find an airline that would also take our cat … plus the endless COVID tests we had to provide to different government departments, up to 24 hours before leaving …
And that’s before we talk about organizing the visas for me, the family and the bloody cat to enter the country … telling our bank that we were off to live on the other side of the planet on the very day we moved into the house we’d just bought in the UK … through to organizing a bloody coach to get us to Heathrow Airport, to ensure there was enough distance between us and the driver so there was no last minute COVID fuck-ups.
[The photo at the top of this post is from us getting on the plane and getting ready to take off]
And while moving across the world during a global pandemic is something I would never, ever recommend – and this is coming from someone who has moved countries into the double digits – we made it and were grateful for all NZ – and Colenso – has done [and does] for us.
That doesn’t mean NZ is perfect …
In many ways, it’s position as a ‘global utopia’ is worthy of a Grand Prix for PR given there’s a whole host of things that are fucked up that people outside of NZ rarely know about, let alone see … from deeply entrenched racism, a youth suicide rate that is proportionally – and continually – one of the highest in the world plus an overall lack of economic investment and youth opportunity to name but a few … however compared to many other places, it’s still a whole lot better in a whole lot of ways.
That said, we won’t be here forever.
Don’t know when that move will happen, but it will.
That we’ve been here 5 years is already incredible to us, given bar China, our usual tenure in a country is about 2-3.
But that’s how good the place is. And Colenso.
So why can I say we will leave at some point in the future?
Well, there’s a bunch of reasons why – of which one is the idea of living in one place till the end of my days fills me with dread – but the fact this place is already the 3rd longest place I’ve ever lived proves NZ is somewhere I regard as very special and why I’ll always see my time here as a chapter of true significance. It’s also why I hope when the day comes for us to leave, the people who matter feel I/we contributed at least as much as we were lucky and grateful to receive from them and the country as a whole.
And let me tell you, I haven’t felt that way about all the countries I’ve lived in, hahaha.
So to everyone in NZ – well, 98.46% of you – and everyone at Colenso …
Thank you.
For all you are and all you have done.
It’s been 5 pretty fucking awesome years. At least speaking for us, ha.
Filed under: 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, AI, Colenso, Comment, Family, Jill
Yesterday I wrote a post overflowing with love for my son and my desire to alway be there for him, even when I’m not.
Today, I am ensuring he can’t wait for me to get on with buggering off. Probably.
You see, I’ve had a beard of sorts for as long as I can remember … even before I didn’t have hair on the top of my head.
In fact the only time I’ve properly shaved was about 15 years ago when Jill wondered what I looked like without it.
Well she found out … and the answer was, I looked like a child.
We have never mentioned it again …
Anyway, recently my social media has been filled with clips of people who shaved their beards off their face to see how their family would react. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t great. Not because – as was the case with me – they didn’t look good, but because they just looked so different.
Kids cried.
Partners trembled.
Animals growled and barked.
Now you’d think with that reaction, the idea of me even considering doing it again would never cross my mind … but it did. Fortunately, for me though, was rather than do it for real, I could turn to AI.
So I did, and this is what I look like …
Look at me!
LOOK. AT. ME!!!
Jesus Christ, I look like a fucking sex-pest.
Seriously, if I shaved and found myself looking like that, I think I’d voluntarily hand myself into the Police. Not because I’d have done anything but because I’d assume the Police would just arrest me for how I look.
And if you think I’m being hard on myself, imagine how my wonderful colleague, Gi, must be feeling given that’s kinda-how he looks every day.
Fortunately for him, he’s a much nicer, smarter and taller version than me … which means he can walk the streets without fear of arrest while also being completely safe in the knowledge I’ll never, ever shave, so he will never have to worry of being mistaken for me.
Consider that my gift to you Gi. And humanity at large.
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: 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