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: 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, 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.
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: 2020, 2023, 2024, 2025, 2026, A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Advertising [Planning] School On The Web, Agency Culture, Anniversary, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Authenticity, Bangkok Shakes, Bank Ads, Bassot, BBH, Billionaire, Birkenhead, Birkenstocks, Birthday, Black Lives Matter, Bonnie, Brand, Brand Suicide, Brian Clough, British, Business, Campaign Magazine, Canada, Cannes, Career, Cats, Chaos, Charinee, Childhood, Children, China, Chris Jaques, Clients, Clothes, Colenso, Collaboration, Colleagues, Comment, Community, Complicity, Confidence, Conformity, Content, Context, Contribution, Corona Virus, Corporate Gaslighting, Creativity, Culture, Curiosity, Cynic, Dad, Daddyhood, David Terry, Death, Deutsch, Din Tai Fung, Disney, Distinction, Dog, Dolly, Dream Bigger, Dream Small, Dysgraphia, Education, Egovertising, Embarrassing Moments, Emotion, Empathy, England, Entertainment, Experience, Family, Fatherhood, Fear, Football, Freddie, Freelance, Friendship, Fulfillment, Gaming, Goodbye America, Goodbye China, Goodbye England, Goose Fair, Government, Grand announcements, Happiness, Harmony, Headers, HHCL, Holiday, Home, Hong Kong, Hope, HSBC, human_2, Imagination, Immaturity, Important Birthdays, India, Innocence, Innovation, Insight, Internet, Interviews, Italy, Japan, Jaques, Jill, Jillyism, Jorge, Katie, Kev, LaLaLand, Leadership, Linkedin, Logic, London, Love, Loyalty, Luck, Luxury, Management, Marcus, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Marketing Science, Martin Weigel, Maya, Mediocrity, Mental Health, Metallica, Michael Jordan, Michael Mann, Miley, Mr Ji, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Netflix, New Zealand, NHS, Northern, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Nurses, olympics, OnStrategy, Otis, Parents, Paul, Paula, Pearl Jam, Perspective, Photography, Planes, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, Police, Popularity, Prams, Prejudice, Pretentious Rubbish, Pride, Process, Professionalism, Queen, R/GA, Relationships, Relevance, Reputation, Research, Resonance, Respect, Rick Rubin, Rockstar Games, Rodi, RoObin, Ros, Rosie, RulesOfRubin, Shanghai, Shelly, Si Vicars, Silvana, Singapore, Sport, Spotify, Starbucks, Steve Jobs, Strategy, Stubborness, Stupid, Success, Sunshine, Sydney, Taboo Categories, Talent, Tattoo, Technology, The Kennedys, The Kennedys Shanghai, Toxic Positivity, Uncorporated, Virgin Atlantic, Viz, Wedding, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
Yes, it’s Friday.
And yes, it’s the first of May.
But neither of those things are as incredible as this …
You see, on Sunday, it will be 20 years since I started this blog.
TWENTY BLOODY YEARS!
That’s before the iPhone.
And Android.
And Facebook.
And the Kindle.
And the financial crisis.
And before Pluto lost its planet creds.
AND BEFORE WI-FI WAS PUBLICLY AVAILABLE … so a very long time ago.
I still remember why I started it …
It wasn’t for any attempt for notoriety or popularity, it was more to do with survival.
You see I’d got a job that – frankly – I was woefully under-qualified for, and because it demanded so much of my time and energy to make sure I didn’t completely fuck it up, I needed an outlet for all the ideas and thoughts that were going around my head that I just didn’t feel were right for what I needed to do at that time.
Not because I was sure I was going to use them later … more because I needed to feel I was still connected to the stuff I loved while also believing that if I didn’t find a way to get them out of my head, they’d maybe be no more space left for anything new to enter my head.
And so this blog was born.
Reading through the first few posts not only reveals the times we were living in, but also the headspace I was in.
Trying to balance making sense of stuff happening around me while also needing an outlet for stuff I was feeling or thinking … which, in many ways, set the tone for how this blog has been for over 2 decades.
Which George recently described as, “the blog version of TK Maxx”.
He’s not wrong … and in some ways, I really like that.
Sure, among the almost 5000 posts I’ve written, there’s a lot of [to keep the TK Maxx analogy going] cheap and nasty shit in there … but there’s also a few ‘designer label’ gems hidden amongst it all.
At least for me.
Stuff that made me think, challenge or question stuff in ways that I had not imagined or considered before.
Stuff that ended up impacting how I did things and how I still do things.
Stuff that forced me to articulate what I believe, not just what I feel.
Maybe those posts meant nothing to anyone but me. Hell, maybe no one even read them. But while every post I’ve written reflects something about who I was – or am – those ‘self-defined gems’ have a special place in my heart because they represent a moment where I felt I was growing and learning.
It’s why I always enjoyed the comment section, because for all the overwhelming piss-taking I received, the vast majority always ‘encouraged’ me to look deeper, wider or longer at issues I’d written about. And I loved that. I loved how the people who commented always kept me on my toes … which is why one of the unexpected pleasures of writing this blog for so long has been seeing how my opinion on certain subjects has changed or evolved over the years. It’s served as a great reminder about the importance of always exposing yourself to others perspectives, opinions, experiences and standards, even if the goal of it is simply to be really sure about what you think or believe.
In many ways, that’s the biggest surprise of 20 years writing this blog.
I never expected anyone to comment on anything I wrote, because I started it just for me.
A private place to express my thoughts and idiocy.
But then Andy discovered it and he sent an email to everyone at Cynic and some of our clients announcing it and then the mayhem started.
At that point, blogging had become a big thing. A good thing. A community of people who wanted to help and contribute to what others were doing. A lot of this was down to the great Russell Davies and his iconic blog … a place that not only brought people from all over the world together, but inspired others to start writing their own as well.
It was a place that not only exposed me to a lot of brilliant people I’d never have known about without his blog – people like Gareth Kay, Paul Colman, Northern Planner, Rob Mortimer, Marcus, John Dodds, Lauren, Age to name but a few – it also brought people to my blog who helped add to the texture, lessons and perspectives I was writing about.
I will forever be grateful to Russell for that … especially as most of the people he inadvertently introduced me to, not only still exist in my life but I have met them all IN THE FLESH.
Alas the blogging community, like most things in life, has moved on with maybe only Martin and I still churning stuff out via that platform. [Well, he curates, I churn] And while technologies advances allows strategists to be even more connected in even more ways, the energy of the community is not the same as it was back in the early days of blogging.
Now it feels more aggressive.
More sharp elbows and self publicizing.
Wanting the spotlight on them rather than the work they do.
But then, the industry seems to value those who talk about the work more than those who actually make it … which kind-of highlights why the industry is in the state it finds itself in but refuses to acknowledge.
Emperor’s New Clothes anyone?!
Screenshot
That this blog is 20 years old blows my mind. I never thought it would last that long, mainly because I never gave much thought about how long I’d be writing the thing. It’s not always been fun – when I was receiving a lot of anonymous hate that resulted in me deciding to stop allowing comments was definitely a low point – but all in all, the whole experience has been pretty glorious.
In many ways, this is one of the longest committed relationships I’ve ever had.
And one of the most successful, hahaha.
The fact there are some people who have been reading it for almost as long as I have been writing it, is madness.
Have they no taste?
Have they got nothing better to do?
Or maybe they’re stuck in prison and this is part of their ‘sentence’.
The good news for them is there’s no way this will still be a ‘going concern’ in another 20 years … at least not in terms of how regular I’ve been writing posts for the past 2 decades. Not because I am running out of things to say [albeit Andy said I have only ever written 3 posts and just keep re-writing them in different ways] but because I’ll be – hopefully – doing other things with my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll always be grateful to advertising … it has given me a life I never could have dared to imagine … but I am increasingly spending more and more of my time working and collaborating with artists and I feel that’s where my future may be. Not because I don’t love what I do, but because I find their definition and expression of creativity even more interesting, challenging, open, provocative and progressive than where our industry is choosing to head.
But that’s not going to happen yet. Hell, it may not happen at all – I could get fired by all the artists tomorrow for all I know – which is why for the time being, I’ll keep happily juggling my two ‘lives’ while churning out daily blog posts at the same time.
Sorry, hahaha.
That said, the point of continuing this blog is different to what you may think and why I originally started it.
Because while it has helped me grow, learn, make new friends and even help build my professional reputation [which is hilarious when you read some of the stuff I’ve churned out, like this!] … it delivers something that is even more important to me.
Connection to my family.
I know … I know … that sounds weird-as-fuck, but what I mean is this:
A few years ago, Jill said that while she rarely ever reads my blog, when she does – she can hear my voice because of the way I write.
Put simply, how I write is how I talk … so when she reads my posts, it feels like I’m with her.
And she liked that.
Add to this that I’ve shared deeply personal and important moments in my life – from getting engaged to getting married, to Mum dying, to becoming a Dad, to getting Rosie – and Bonnie – to saying a tearful goodbye to Rosie, to moving from Singapore to HK to China to America to London to New Zealand [so far] … which means moving from cynic/WPP to Sunshine to Wieden+Kennedy to Deutsch to R/GA to Colenso [not to mention all the other highs and lows that have impacted or been introduced to my life over this period, be it death, covid, friends, family, health, books, chaos, and/or multitudes of weird, wild, crazy shit] … and this blog is no longer just a place where I rant rubbish, it’s a place my family can have me close even when I’m no longer here.
That means a lot to me.
Not because I want them to need me, but because I like knowing they can access me should they ever need me.
Or if Otis ever wants to introduce me to whoever becomes important in his life.
It’s why I’m going to keep writing it and why I’m going to move it to a free domain again, to make sure it always stay up … because what originally was a place just for me, has become a place that offers connection to the most important people to me.
And with that, I want to say a big thank you to everyone who has ever visited or commented.
Whether you meant it or not, you’ve given me far more than I ever imagined or hoped for.
Thank you. Love you. Grateful for you.