Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Otis, Parents
Today would have been Dad’s 86th birthday.
That means he’s been gone 26 years.
What’s bizarre is I remember the last birthday he had – his 60th – so clearly.
The photo above is from that day.
Part of my reasons for remembering it is because I flew back from Sydney for it. Part of it is because we had bought him a special armchair that allowed him to get in and out of it with ease. And part of it is because he hardly had time to use it, because within months, he was back in hospital – except this time, it would be his final time.
And yet I look back on that day with love.
Sitting next to him.
Looking at his beloved garden.
Having some-sort of conversation about the plants … even though his strokes had robbed him of his ability to talk – bar individual words. In many ways, that was the cruelest thing of all given he was such a wonderful conversationalist. And yet he had – thanks to his tenacity, Mum’s care and speech therapy – found a way to pick out the most perfect word to express what he wanted to communicate. Including when you wish he hadn’t.
I remember when he was later in hospital and there was a male nurse.
Dad kept looking at him intensely and I asked if he wanted anything, to which he replied, “Hate him” very loudly. I don’t know why he felt so much distain towards this person, but he was not the sort to have such an emotional reaction towards anyone without merit.
Mind you, I also remember when another nurse asked him what night-time drink he wanted and he said, “gin” and then laughed proudly to himself for an age.
That is still one of the best memories from one of the worst times of our life.
But then that was Dad …
His ability to make people feel at ease regardless of the challenge they were experiencing.
I think I’ve written about the time he was driving a friend of mine back to their house and casually asked what his parents did for a living. My friend – we were about 15 at the time – replied that his Father had passed away to which Dad then asked what had happened.
I was fuming and embarrassed and told Dad that on the way home.
And while I knew he wouldn’t want to make anyone feel that way, I was angry he’d asked such a personal question to a friend of mine. And I felt that way right until Benny – my friend – told me a couple of days later how grateful he was my Dad had shown interest in him and his Dad because most people immediately changed the subject or just clammed up the moment they heard his Dad had passed.
This moment made a huge impact on me …
Challenging my perceptions and perspectives on how to communicate and interact with others … ultimately demonstrating the foundation of any relationship of worth – whether for life, work or a moment-in-time – is based on your ability to be conversationally intimate and honest.
Of course, to do that means you have to be authentic and considerate, but being interested in what other people are interested in – as opposed to wanting people to be interested in what you want them to be interested in – is the most powerful way to build understanding between people, even when you come from different worlds or perspectives.
That pretty much sums up my Dad and Mum.
The strength of character they had to be transparent and vulnerable
To enable others to feel at ease with their situation and themselves.
To be open to answers or perspectives that were different to theirs. Or even better, be open to their perspective to be changed because they see what works for someone else, doesn’t mean it has to work for them.
But you can only get to that place by creating the conditions for it.
To allow emotional safety.
It’s why I get so angry when people call emotions, a ‘weakness’.
The reality is, if it’s anything, it’s honesty.
A way to build bridges rather than walls.
Of course that doesn’t mean your view is the only right view. Nor does it mean you can act or react any way you want or choose. But it does mean you feel you can express your truth because you know it will be seen and heard by people who actually want to better understand who you are rather than judge what you do.
I got to experience that.
I got to experience that pretty much every day of my life.
And while I didn’t always get the outcome I hoped for. Or realise how amazing it was to be in a place where I was continually encouraged to express and connect. I now appreciate the power of listening to understand.
That should sound obvious, except it isn’t.
Too many people only listen to win. To find holes to poke, push and provoke.
And that’s led us to where we are … a world of division, arrogance, selfishness and blinkered, one-winner-must-take-all competition.
And yet the irony is, when you listen to understand … you still win.
It opens doors.
It creates relationships.
It allows good things to be born and shared.
I know that sounds hippy-like shit, but it’s true.
It’s the reason why Dad was such an amazing lawyer, because he fought for equality rather than one-sided victory.
Equality of rights … consideration … possibilities.
[And if anyone tried to stop that, he would make them pay. A lot. Haha]
Which explains why certain corporations/CEO’s hated him but their employees/families/unions were massive fans of him.
So even though today is Dad’s birthday, he – and Mum – gave me the greatest gift.
I don’t always live up to it, but I always will measure myself against it.
And I hope I can pass that on to Otis.
A gift from his grandparents … a way for them to be part of his life despite sadly never getting to be in his life.
Oh my god, they’d have absolutely loved to play that role and I’d have utterly adored seeing them live it. But alas, things don’t always go to plan … but they ensured their lessons and love remain and flourish.
And boy, do we ever need that right now.
Which is why, while it is Dad’s birthday, he – and Mum – gave me the greatest of gifts.
So Happy Birthday Dad, I love and miss you so much.
Give Mum a big kiss from me.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, My Childhood, Queen
I appreciate this is the 2nd Queen post in recent weeks, but it’s my blog so you’ll just have to deal with it. Besides, it would have been Freddie’s 78th birthday yesterday, so it’s kind of respectful. However, to make things have less of a bitter taste in your mouth, maybe you’ll like the fact this is more about how they’ve just [kinda] broken my heart rather than me waxing lyrical about their musical genius. Or something.
Now while I appreciate anything Queen produced post-1984 was generally pants – even I can admit that – everything leading up to that point was, at least for me, was a musical adventure.
It is no exaggeration to say that Queen have impacted my life in many ways.
From giving me some of my greatest childhood memories following their tours around the world through to inspiring me to want to play the guitar.
So while all of that has cost me a fucking fortune in terms of money and time, I don’t regret it at all. Hell, I’ve even enjoyed seeing the ‘tribute’ version of the band – featuring the admittedly incredible Adam Lambert – in Shanghai, LA and London. So it’s fair to say, I’m still a fan.
That said, Queen stopped being Queen even before Freddie died.
As I point out above, after 1984 – bar their Live Aid appearance – they changed from musicians and rockstars to entertainers – chasing popularity rather than attracting it. And while it could be argued they have been very successful in doing that – given they’ve made more money in the years since Freddie died (1991) than they did with all their earnings between 1973-1984 put together – the reality is that’s more to do with amazing ‘brand management’ than musical integrity.
But to have a band still have an active role and position in culture – 30 years after their singer died – is extraordinary, which is a big reason why SONY have just paid them over ONE BILLION POUNDS for the rights to their music.
And while I am happy for the band – especially as it reinforces the sustainable commercial value of creativity at a time where everyone seems to want to knock it down – I saw something that made me really sad. And it was this.
The bit that got me most was the line: ‘Legally Queen has split up’.
Of course, in terms of the band, that happened a long time ago, seeing the legal entity end has affected me far more than I ever imagined it would.
The finality.
The certainty.
The definitiveness.
While Freddie had gone, there was something comforting that John was still involved in the business of the band, even though he had retired from the band. But now there’s no reason for them to stay connected. And while I am sure John will be happy with that given he loves his reclusiveness, for the fans it is undeniable proof it’s over.
Done.
Finito.
And yes, we still will have the music. And the memories. And maybe … occasionally … the odd concert featuring a ‘version’ of the band. But while I criticise Queen’s output post-1984/85, I still hate it’s officially done. Because with that single piece of paper, I am forced to realise so is a part of my connection to my youth and history.
They say we shouldn’t be sad it’s over, but be glad it happened.
I get that.
I also get I’m a 54 year old man and it has been over for 30 years … so I should stop being so fucking melodramatic.
But I still feel glum … even though it does reminds me of some valuable lessons for marketing.
1. Artist management knows how to build brands better than 99% of marketing practices.
2. Companies may control brands, but they don’t own them. Fans do.
3. The law is more powerful than media budgets, channels and legacy.
So thank you Roger, Brian, John and Freddie.
It’s been epic.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Audacious, Culture, England, Football, Freddie, Music, My Childhood, Pride, Queen, Sport
Today, England play their first ever football final on foreign soil.
Do we deserve to be here?
Well, the fact we’re here means the answer has to be yes, however if truth be told, we owe a lot to luck.
And persistence.
And skill.
But mainly luck.
Because apart from one 45 minute spell, we have been pretty rubbish but that means nothing given we’re now just 90 minutes from history. Maybe not history for everyone else, but it definitely is for England, in terms of team and nation.
And while I think Spain will win it, it is quite the achievement. Especially for the manager, who has faced an endless barrage of abuse and yet leads us to the 2nd European Final in a row.
That said I hope we win.
Not just for the players and the country – though I fear what some of the fans may do whether we win or lose – but also for the new Government. Because nothing will piss off the Tories more than Labour coming in on a massive majority and then having the national men’s team win a major European football title, hahahaha.
But for the England team … I can’t imagine how they must be feeling today.
The conflict of emotions.
Fear and excitement.
Nerves and belief.
Pressure and energy.
But that said, I do have an idea of what they will feel like as they play and if they win.
Not because of anything I’ve done, but because of things I’ve witnessed.
From watching Queen achieve music immortality as they performed to the World at Live Aid back in 1985 through to watching Robert Plant – of Led Zeppelin – reaction as he watched Heart perform ‘Stairway To Heaven’ as part of his bands induction into the Kennedy Centre Honours List. It made such an impression on me that I wrote about it here and you can watch the film I’m referring to below.
Both still give me shivers even now, years later … so I cannot imagine what it must have felt like – or still feels like – for the artists. Just like I can’t imagine what the players tonight are experiencing or will experience, should they win. Or should they lose.
And that’s why I hope they – and the England fans around the World – remember that while 2nd place is never as good as first, it’s still an incredible achievement to find yourself in a position where you can make history.
Literally make history.
To achieve something that will be written about, referred to, commented on for decades, if not centuries. Fucking hell, that must be an utterly extroidinary and intense experience to try and deal with. To manage. And carry.
So good luck. I hope you pull it off England.
May the next 90 minutes be full of joy, rather than fear or regret.
Let’s go …
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Daddyhood, Jill, Love, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood
So the emotional rollercoaster of posts for this week continues.
Yesterday was a hate-fest.
Monday was a love-fest.
And today?
Well, today is a sentimental-fest.
And the reason for that is simple … I turn 54 today.
FIFTYFUCKINGFOUR.
By any evaluation, that’s fucking old – especially for someone working in adland – and yet it’s because of adland that I don’t feel my age, as the photo below demonstrates. Kinda.
OK, so there’s times where I most definitely do – a 1000 years old to be precise – but for the vast majority of the time, advertising keeps me young.
I love being surrounded by talented and creative people of all ages and backgrounds.
I love being around the noise and wildness of culture in all its forms.
I love being exposed to ideas untainted by logic or conformity.
I feel lucky to still be doing this and to still be excited by it …
Now of course part of that is because of the people I work for and work with. Or should I say, how the people I work for and accept who I am and the ‘ways’ I approach stuff. I definitely realise not everyone experiences this, but bar a couple of times in my career [and a couple of written warnings] I have. Hell, Metallica’s management even told me I’d proved it wasn’t just Rockstars who were immune to maturity.
I think they probably meant it as an insult, but I said “thank you” which confuses them to this day, hahaha.
But the reality is, as I sit here turning 54, I increasingly appreciate how lucky I am.
Obviously not just in work, but in pretty much every aspect of my life.
Now, contrary to popular belief, I have – and do – work hard for it, but I also accept the benefits I’ve enjoyed are beyond anything I imagined and likely more than I deserve.
But this is where age plays her ‘karma’ card.
You see the older you get, the more aware you are of the time you have left.
I’m not saying I’m going to die tomorrow – in fact, given I’ve lost 40kg in the last 10 months, I’m probably going to live a lot longer than I was this time last year – however I’ve certainly got less years ahead of me than I’ve lived so far, which means I’m forced to accept there will be limits on what I will be able to do-and-try-and-mess-with in the future.
And that’s where aging sucks … because when you’re someone like me – a curious, emotional, excitable, immature, ambitious-as-all-fuck, only child – you find taking no for an answer almost impossible to accept.
But it gets worse [and I’m not talking about the photo below]
You see on top all this, I’m in this wonderfully ridiculous situation where – despite being in my 50’s – I’ve entered an entirely new phase of my creative journey … one where I’m playing in a completely different world of creative possibilities … one filled with a completely different world of creative talent who all have invited me to play with a completely different world of creative expression in a countlessly different and new ways.
Not just on my own, but with them and for them.
I still pinch myself that this is happening because it’s insane.
Fucking insane. But I absolutely love it.
And what is even more insane, is I work for a company – Colenso – who give me the space to go off and do it over and over again.
Who the fuck does that?
Ignoring that the reason why they probably let me do that is because it gets me out of their hair – it means I get to work with a bunch of brilliant people at Colenso creating stuff very few agencies in the World could ever pull off before travelling to different parts of the world to work with a bunch of brilliant artists on projects that every agency in the world wishes they had a chance to work on … let alone pull off.
Does that sound smug?
Too fucking right it does, but do you blame me??? To have this situation at any age would mean you’re winning, but to have this at my age – where things keep getting more interesting and intriguing – is the sort of good news where you would want to smash that person right in the face.
But you don’t have to worry about that because life is doing it for you.
Because everything I’m doing right now, is opening doors to new things I also want to do.
It’s like I’m on a highway where there are endless side roads that all offer to take me to places where there are other new adventures and creative possibilities and frankly, I want to go down each and every one of them to see where they lead. But the reality is I can’t, because not only do I know each one would have their own side roads of opportunity for me to explore, I’M TOO FUCKING OLD TO BE ABLE TO EXPLORE ALL THE ROADS I’M CURRENTLY ON NOW.
Do you have any fucking idea how painful that is for me?
How frustrating that is for me?
It means I have to prioritize and sacrifice and I absolutely suck at that.
Recently I did a stage set design project for a famous musician. They had me work with a famous Broadway set designer and a famous video director.
It was one of the most thrilling, imaginative, informative, expressive and educational projects of my entire career … making me rethink how I saw creativity connecting and engaging people.
I absolutely, fundamentally loved it.
All of it … and want to explore more of it.
But can I? Not really, because I’m working on a bunch of other things I also find fascinating and I don’t want to miss out experiencing that by losing myself in something else.
Am I being greedy, selfish and a bit of a twat?
100%. This is the epitome of ‘first world problems’, but it’s my birthday today so I’ll whine if I want to and you’ll just have to accept it.
But while I know I’m being a spoilt little brat, it does cause me anxiety. I feel time is running out and I’ve finally been given the keys to the gadget shop. In fact the only thing that helps me get a grip is knowing how happy my parents would be knowing I’m in this position.
Not because they want me frustrated but because it means I’m living what they hoped for me:
A life of fulfilment rather than contentment.
I’ve written lot about this over the years but it basically translates to spending more of your time doing things that fill you up rather than empty you out.
To be honest, I didn’t really understand what it meant until I reached my mid 30’s, but now I realise what a gift they gave me in terms of living and evaluating the choices I had for my life. Because rather than defining success simply as salary, job title, possessions or even comfort … they wanted to make sure I knew it was about valuing and respecting the actions and activities that let you feel you’re growing and evolving.
Yes, I know that sounds flowery-as-fuck, but it’s what they believed and nothing proves this more than how my Dad answered this question from me when I asked him why he changed careers – not jobs – so much in his early years.
His response was:
“I love you and your Mum very much, so I better enjoy what I’m doing because nothing would be so disrespectful to you both than being away doing something I hate”
Can you imagine how amazing that made me feel?
How loved?
And while I know he and Mum weren’t able to always live this attitude – especially when the family were facing challenging times – they both fiercely advocated, protected and supported this way of living my life, even though they also wish I had gone into law rather than – at the time – music, followed by advertising, haha.
Which is why I know my parents would be so happy for how I am feeling at 54.
[Not to mention relieved I have somehow managed to have a career … or whatever it is I have]
And while luck has played a massive part in me being able to choose – and live – what my wife calls, ‘the bigger life’, I would be stupid to ignore the influence of my parents and the industry I work in, for helping let this happen.
In fact, in many ways, what my parents and adland [not to mention Jill and the countless bosses, clients and colleagues] have given me is the greatest gift you could ever receive. Even better than the Raleigh Grifter I got when I was 10 – where I fainted in excitement on seeing it – which previously I regarded as the single best present you could ever get.
So while I appreciate no one is going to be ecstatic that they’re turning 54, I can look back on where I’m at and say “I like where I am” and if there’s anything to feel good about being as ancient as I am today, it’s surely that.
The ultimate privilege in fact … one that I am both fully aware of and that I am very clear on how lucky I am to have it. Especially when there are many people – including friends – who can’t feel that way through absolutely no fucking fault of their own.
So with that in mind, I’ll end this post by saying happy birthday to me. It might all fall apart tomorrow, but if it does – I can say it lasted a hell of a lot longer than anyone expected or predicted. And that definitely includes me.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Bands, Bangkok Shakes, Childhood, Dad, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis
You know those time capsule things that were all the rage for a while?
Where people bury artefacts from their life with the sole intention that it is dug up 20+ years later for people to marvel at. Or be confused by.
I always liked the idea of it but never got around doing it … mainly because I imagine the outtake is massively underwhelming unless you’re directly attached to it.
Well, I’ve been proved right … but in a way I love and am amazed at.
As many of you know, I was in a band called Bangkok Shakes.
Thee were 2 iterations of the band – with different singers and bass players – with the 2nd version almost becoming something of some note.
Till it didn’t.
Anyway, while I had a huge amount of fun – touring and recording – the fact it all ended when I was 23 or 24 means I only think about it when I occasionally pick up a guitar and play a few of the songs we wrote.
Enter my mate Sam.
I love Sam.
He’s a brilliantly annoying person … and I say that with utter love.
He also buys more ridiculous shit than me, and that’s saying something.
And yet despite his natural tendency for mischief and mayhem, he’s a wonderful, kind and caring human. Or he is until he gets something in his head, and then no one is safe.
Oh the stories I could tell …
In fact, I bet the people at Virgin Broadband are still counting the cost of trying to mess with him because he’s like a crime-fighting cockroach who won’t give up. Or die.
But his behaviour is not always acts of commercial terrorism, as I was soon to discover.
You see one day, he woke up and – for reasons only he will know – I was in his head.
Or specifically, Bangkok Shakes was.
So he decided to go on one of his legendary explorations resulting in me receiving a Whatsapp from him that said, “this is you, isn’t it?” with a link attached.
Ignoring all safety protocol, I found myself on Youtube, staring at this.
This shocked me for 4 very specific reasons.
+ The song it relates to was one I wrote in 1991.
+ It’s a song I didn’t know was anywhere near the internet.
+ It was a very early demo of a song we did, not the final recording.
+ The handwriting on the tape IS MY HANDWRITING. MINE! WTF?!
But wait … there’s more.
You see, I was so shocked that I put a screenshot of the Youtube page on insta regailing the whole story.
Enter Gareth Kay.
Now I love Gareth too.
He’s very different to Sam [thank god, ha] but as wonderful.
Gareth is a music obsessive so imagine my surprise when a day later – after seeing my instagram – he sent me an email with another link in it.
And yes, I pressed it without any consideration of network safety.
Except rather than take me to Youtube, it took me another site altogether … a fan site … a fan site featuring not just the stuff Sam found, but the ENTIRE GROUP OF SONGS FROM THE SESSION WE DID IN 1993.
Not only that, it also showed the inner sleeve of the cassette the demos were in … where I’d carefully written out all the song names and info of the recording. Including the ‘then’ phone number of our drummer, Jason!
Now I was properly flabbergasted.
How?
Why?
Where?
Of course I downloaded the tracks and while they sounded a bit pants – made worse by the recording coming from a tape that was obviously old and a bit screwed up – it was an utterly joyful experience.
A chance to revisit my past.
To be taken back to another time.
Where life was only about excitement, hope and energy.
And while I know we made a better version of this demo – and made a shit load of better songs after it – it was something very special for me. A reconnection to something that was incredibly important to me. Something I hoped would be the foundation of my entire life.
But how did this tape end up on this blokes website?
Well, it gets weirder … because this bloke is based in Perth, Australia.
He loves 80/90s rock and trades tapes from that era to build up his collection … which means that a tape that I helped create and wrote out in Nottingham, THIRTY ONE YEARS AGO in Nottingham, England, somehow ended up in the possession of a person literally on the other side of the planet who decided he liked it so much, he added it to the internet.
And I couldn’t thank him enough.
Not just for the memory and the connection to my home and history bu because I remember everything about that recording …
After spending a month in hospital because my retina in my eye continually collapsed, this was the first thing I did ‘back in the real world’.
It was a Sunday and I remember our singer – Joe – bitching about having to carry my amps into the studio as I was not allowed to lift anything heavy for a few months to ensure there was no strain on my eye whatsoever.
It was a quick session, designed to try out a few songs and be used to play to a few promotors we knew – but never for wider public listening – so if someone told me then that 3 decades later, I’d be listening to it on the internet from New Zealand, I’d have said you’re mad. And not just because no one would know what the internet was back then.
It was pretty emotional to hear it … and to play it to my family … because it represents a time where pretty much everything from that era has either gone or been left behind.
+ My parents were alive when we recorded that.
+ Dad hadn’t even had his stroke at that point.
+ So Mum was still working.
+ I lived in my family home.
+ I had no idea I was going to leave Nottingham.
+ I was working, but we were being courted by record companies so I thought things were about to change.
+ My wife – who was in Australia, a place I’d never been to at that point – would have been 17.
So Otis was -21, hahaha.
It was a chapter of my life that was wonderful, but I thought fully closed.
And while that door has not been smashed open, listening to those songs on that wonky tape cracked it open a little.
Which is why I laughed when Sam then came back again with another link … this time taking me to a page of old gig dates, where on Saturday 17th of some month and year, we played at the then iconic Narrowboat [RIP], scene of some of the best nights of my life.
We often look back at life with rose-tinted glasses.
Reimagining our history to be something more than it was.
But on this occasion, it was better than I remembered.
Not because of the music or my overly fancy handwriting … but because it allowed relatively new friends to walk around my old life … to let them inadvertendly know a bit more about the person they’d only casually heard about in convesation … to give me the gift of shining sunlight upon a time of my life I’d almost forgotten … a time of my life that was deeply important and special to me … one I never thought I’d be able to expeience again, let alone be able to finally share with the family I love.
And it’s because of that I want to say a huge thank you to Sam and Gareth, they may never know what they have done for me.
Just like that guy in Perth who somehow got a tape I wrote out in my bedroom in the early 90’s in West Bridgford, Nottingham.
They say elephants never forget, but neither does the internet.
And while that might be scary for some, it’s made me realise that maybe the time capsule is an even better idea than the worldwide web.