Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Awards, Content, Contribution, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Happiness, Leadership, Legend, Loyalty, Management, Reputation, Respect
A few weeks ago, I received a bouquet of flowers.
That’s unusual enough, but it’s who sent them to me and why that’s the interesting part.
Let me take this opportunity to say that I will not be telling you who it was or the specific reasons why … but there is a point to me telling you this story.
You see, the bouquet was sent by someone pretty famous.
As in, globally pretty famous.
And they did it because they wanted to say ‘thank you’ for some work I did for them a while ago.
Now, I am under no illusion that [1] they will have done the same thing for a bunch of people and [2] it was no doubt organised by someone in their management team … but the fact they did it is amazing.
Let’s be honest, most wouldn’t.
Let’s be even more honest, even the one’s who should, still don’t.
Now I appreciate I have somehow ended up being the exception to the rule with things like Green M&M’s … a Wayne Rooney Man Utd shirt … a custom built cigar box guitar … a signed Rick Rubin and Beastie Boys photograph … a years supply of Coke Zero … the Metallica x Rimowa suitcase, as seen above … but while they are all amazing [and there’s others, including the best reference I’ve ever received], this is different.
You see with all those other things, they came from people/organisations I had long-standing relationships with.
Measured in years.
But this wasn’t.
This came from a couple of weeks work I did for them over maybe a period of a month.
Now I appreciate I wasn’t paid for it [I was asked to help them by someone else I work with, who paid my fee instead] but it was a joyful experience and I was glad they were glad with what I helped do.
Which leads to the second reason why these flowers are amazing.
Because while they were in relation to the work I did – which was pretty small and well over a year ago – it was kind-of giving me some credit for them winning a major award … which, frankly, is utterly preposterous.
I’m not humble bragging.
OK, I am, but I don’t mean to be.
Not am I trying to act all coy.
My involvement was only related to distributing their work, not creating it.
It’s like Spielberg giving me a gift because I told some friends ET was a good movie and they went to see it.
OK, maybe that is a bit too humble [haha] but the reality is their award was about their talent, hard work and quality of work, so for them to even consider others at this time, is testimony to how brilliant a human they really are.
And they are.
Proper brilliant.
Even more so given the first time we spoke, they asked why I didn’t like them, because the people who’d got me involved had told them that, ‘for a laugh’.
Pricks.
Which gets to the point of this post.
I know my role in their work was important, but – in the big scheme of things – insignificant.
But they don’t want me to think that way.
More than that, they won’t let me think that way.
They want me to know they see what I did. That they acknowledge and value it … and that’s amazing.
They have so many people in their life, but they looked out for someone they met a few times.
Talk about making me want to do more for them.
Talk about making me want to do all I can for them.
Talk about making me feel ten feet fucking tall because of them.
I get this may have come from their management more than them, but even then that’s amazing. Plus they signed the card so it’s not like this happened without their awareness … even if they have a million cards with their signature on it available to be used
Now I am not walking around expecting them to dump a pile of cash in my bank account.
I’m not even expecting to do any more work for them.
But I am thinking I want them to win.
Win in life. Win in their career. Win in everything.
They have a cheer leader for them, in me, for life.
Now you could say they’re pandering for popularity … that this is all some sort of ego trip.
And I get why you’d say that. But you’d be wrong.
Because they were tough and demanding.
Not just on people like me, but also on themselves.
Because this work was more than just ‘putting something out’, it was putting themselves out.
There’s a lot of backstory I could talk about to explain this, but that’s not my place … but what I will say is that there’s a lot of talk about leadership, but this may be one of the best examples I’ve ever seen or experienced in my life.
I’m glad they won that award.
They deserved it.
For their work. For their talent. For their vision. For their character.
And when was the last time you could say that about someone in a corporation?
So thank you to this person. You didn’t just restore my faith in humanity, you surprised it … putting aside that when I told Andy, he said if I got a ‘particpation award’, what did the people who actually played a real role in their success and achievement get.
Which is why if there’s an award for asshole, he would win every time.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Communication Strategy, Context, Creativity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Environment, Marketing, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
Hello. I’m back again.
And I think I’m back for a few weeks now … you must be so happy.
Cue: Evil laugh.
OK, let’s get on with it shall we?
So one of the things I’ve loved about getting healthier, is walking around my neighbourhood.
Going down random streets.
Seeing at new shops.
Just getting a better sense and connection to the place I currently call home.
And on my travels, I came across this.
I have to say, I love it.
People may see it as an old piece of paper stuck on their window, but I don’t see it like that.
I see pride.
Pride in where they come from.
Pride in what Pita created.
Pride in Pita’s craft and skills.
Pride in what Bob – and Charlie – continue to do.
Pride in how they approach their work.
Pride in their community.
Pride in their longevity.
Pride in their role.
I have no idea how long that piece of paper has been up – and given how faded it is, it would suggest a while – but at a time where so many people and companies are ‘bigging themselves up’ based on the most superficial of reasons, it’s lovely to see someone honour their experience in service of their community, rather than adopt the attitude that people should be grateful they exist and acknowledge them.
Given all the talk our industry spouts about communities, fandom and membership … this may be one of the key areas many forget to highlight or recognise. Possibly because in their desperation to look like a ‘Linkedin leader’, they spend their time ‘codifying’ how they think communities operate, rather than recognise the emotional conditions that explain why it does.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Content, Context, Creativity, Culture, Grifting, Perspective, Planners, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, Planning, Relevance, Reputation, Research, Respect, Standards
Once upon a time, I did some work with the Google exec, Jonathan Rosenberg.
He was very kind and generous to me, more kind and generous than he should – which I suppose means extra kind and generous – but there’s one thing he said to me that has specifically stayed with me.
We were talking about a book someone had written about google and to paraphrase, he said, “they made us sound more interesting than we were”.
Now I remember this for 2 reasons.
1. At the time I was shocked he thought google wasn’t that interesting … because at the time, they were probably the most interesting and exciting company on the planet.
2. I realised that the book he was referring to was written by an observer, not a participant.
There’s a lot of good things being an observer.
You often see things those inside are too close to realise.
An objective perspective that shines a light on things others may take for granted or not even considered.
But … and it’s a big but … there’s also a shitload of danger.
Because ultimately, you are evaluating from your own perspective which is laden with your own prejudices, contexts and opinions.
Now that’s not necessarily wrong, where it goes dodgy is when you ignore that and just write your view as fact. That what you see is declared as a statement that suggests everyone thinks this way. Which is – generally – ego bollocks.
I used to see this all the time in China.
People coming in making big points based on their observations of the country without realising what they think is important, is only because it’s new to them rather than realising its normality to the people they’re referring to.
It was like they couldn’t wait to shout and share.
To position themselves as ‘in the action’, when really they were just casual observers.
Desperate to broadcast to the mass rather than take the time to consider others contexts and cultural references.
There’s a lot of that around at the moment.
Post rationalised, personal perspectives expressed as unquestionable fact.
Or worse, unquestionable genius.
God complex pricks … as a friend of mine refers to them.
And worse, it attracts others like them who value shortcuts than substance.
Look on Linkedin and it’s everywhere. Opinions spouted as fact by people who have the most tenuous relationship with what they are talking about.
Now don’t get me wrong, outsiders have an important role for reasons mentioned above … but that only works when they’re focused on gaining understanding rather than demanding answers and accepting their view may have to evolve with additional knowledge and information … because when they do that, they’re creating contexts based on their own personal blinkers/ego and everyone suffers for it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Cats, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Hope, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, My Fatherhood, Otis, Paul, Respect
This week has been a week of pretty heavy posts.
But given the standard I normally write at, this has – if I may say so myself – been pretty good. And hopefully today will top that off, albeit in a pretty emotional and confronting way.
Let’s see …
When I was young, I remember thinking that I never wanted to be with my parents when they died. My belief was the pain of watching them go would be too much for me to deal with. That seeing their final moments would leave an indelible scar on me for the rest of my life.
Thank fuck I came to my senses …
Because while their deaths were – and continue to be – the worst days of my life, I’d have been haunted if I’d not been by their side.
It could have happened.
It could have happened easily given I was living in different countries when they passed.
Australia for Dad. China for Mum.
But for reasons I’ll be eternally grateful for, I was there. With them. Able to tell them how much I loved them, was grateful for them and would do my best to honour them.
Because even though I was drowning in a sea of overwhelming grief as I witnessed them take their final breaths, it was the moment I understood – with absolute certainty and clarity – why I had to be there.
For them. And for me.
A few years before Mum died, her sister-in-law passed away. It was unexpected and she died at home on her own. To be discovered the following day.
Mum was understandably very upset about this. Not just for the loss of a woman she liked very much, but that her final moments had been on her own. That she must have been so scared. So desperate to be surrounded with the people she loved.
One day, while visiting from Shanghai, Mum confessed how she feared this would happen to her. That she’d be alone. I’d never heard her say something like this before and it genuinely haunted me. Not just in that moment, but till the end.
My Mum was an amazing woman. She had endured a huge amount of hardship through her life and all I wanted to do was look after her. But she was also fiercely independent, so it was always hard to get her to accept anything from me. In her mind, I had to focus on my life – not hers – which is why revealing her fear was so heartbreaking.
You see, not only was she acknowledging her own mortality – which was devastating to hear, let alone for her to say – she was admitting there was something I could do for her, even though we both knew it was something that was almost impossible to ensure.
What made this even more emotionally charged is that we both knew that this admission had ‘slipped out’.
Mum spent her life trying to protect me from pain and inconvenience at all costs – from her gentle words to try and coax me out of my delusion that Dad would miraculously get better after his devastating strokes through to me finding notes she’d written prior to death to make sure it was easier for me to handle her affairs – so the pain of hearing her fear was no doubt matched by the pain she felt for causing me sorrow.
She was that sort of person. A wonderful, compassionate and considerate human. A woman who would genuinely give someone her last £1 than keep it herself. Which I admit, annoyed the fuck out of me sometimes. Ha.
And that’s why I’m so grateful I was with her when the worst happened. As I was with Dad. And if you look back to March/April 2015 on this blog, you will read the anguish and pain I went through. But among all the desperation and loss, you’ll also see clues why I was so happy to be there on one of the worst days of my life.
Because while the idea of not having to see your loved one’s die, makes some sort of sense – the reality is quite different.
In fact, I’d go even further.
As bone crushingly devastating saying goodbye to a loved one is, it’s not as agonising as you would feel for not being there.
You see at that point, it’s not about you – but them.
However you feel has to place second-fiddle to their needs and situation.
For them, knowing they’re not alone at their final moments gives them peace. A way to leave with love rather than just fear. It doesn’t matter if they’re conscious not, they know and I can say this with absolute certainty.
As I said at Dad’s funeral, when we arrived to be by his side after an urgent call from the hospital, we found his body in the throes of turning off all the lights. Imagine someone walking around their old house and checking that all the windows were closed, all the lights were off and all the doors were locked. Making sure everything was done before they left for good. That was Dad and his body had almost finished its final check bar one little candle flickering in the night. But the thing was, he wasn’t going to blow that out till we were there … till we could tell him he could go … that we loved him … that we were grateful for all he had done for us … that we knew he loved us.
And when we did that, we watched him metaphorically blow out that final light out without fuss. A dignified, quiet passing, leaving us distraught with the loss but happy we were together.
Which is why I am so glad I came to my senses about not wanting to be there when my parents died. Because if I did that, not only would I have left my parents to experience fear instead of comfort and loneliness instead of love, I would have spent a lifetime trying to come to terms with what I’d done. How in my selfishness, I’d left people I loved – and love – at their most desperate and alone, at a time where they arguably needed me most in their life.
Of course, for some, they don’t have the option to be there.
Sometimes it’s because of circumstance, sometimes because of situation. And to them, I hope they are able to find some sort of peace because I can’t imagine the pain and burden that must inflict on them.
Now I say all this for 2 reasons.
One. Because tomorrow is the 9th anniversary of my wonderful Mum dying.
Two. I recently read an article that brought all this back to me … but through a perspective I’d never considered – the final days of a pet.
As you know, I bloody love my cat Rosie.
She’s basically my first real pet … and while we originally got her to keep Jill happy, she has become a true member of the family.
I’ve turned down jobs because of her.
I’ve started companies to bring in her favourite food for her.
I’ve taken big freelance jobs to aid her movement to new countries for her.
She is very, very special to me.
She is also, very, very old … and while she is generally fit and well … for the last few years I’ve wondered if this is the year we have to say goodbye.
It will happen eventually. I mean she turns 17 this year. SEVENTEEN. And my worst thought is having to one day take her to the vet to put her down.
And despite the lessons I’ve learned from my parents passing, my initial thought was if we had to do that for Rosie, I’d not be able to be there. It would be too hard.
And then I read this.
[Whether a pet owner or not, please read it]
Of course it should have been obvious.
Of course it should never be even a consideration.
But while we treat pets like members of the family, at the worst moment – many of us disassociate ourselves to try and protect ourselves.
Forgetting that at that moment, it isn’t about us – but them.
Yes we will be devastated.
Yes it will be horrific and hard.
But how do we think it is for them?
To face your final moments and not see the person who has been there loving them and looking out for them must be terrifying and confusing. Alone in an unfamiliar room with unfamiliar people.
As the article states:
“You have been the centre of their world for THEIR ENTIRE LIVES!!!!”
“90 per cent of owners don’t actually want to be in the room when he injects them so the animal’s last moments are usually them frantically looking around for their owners”.
Frantically looking for their owners.
Take that in.
I don’t imagine its that different for people in their final moments.
They need us. They need us to feel they still have us. That their final moments are with love and not abandonment.
I know it’s hard. I know it’s horrific. But I also know it’s not about us – not really.
So I write this to say that should you be of the opinion you don’t want to be there … that the pain would be too much. Know I sympathise, but also know it won’t nearly be as painful or deep as the knowledge that you weren’t.
Give the people. pets and places you love a hug, call or kiss this weekend.
See you Monday. I hope, ha.
Filed under: Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Before Fame, Brand, Comment, Content, Context, Creativity, Culture, Design, Emotion, Entertainment, Gaming, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
When I was starting out in this whole advertising business, I would often find myself sent to Derby to meet a client who was based there.
Because of that client, I was introduced to some of his friends who had started a gaming company – who were also based in Derby.
They were very small, but because I was around their age and also in love with gaming, I would occasionally pop in and say hello.
One day – months after I’d last been in Derby – I passed this gaming companies offices and saw something different.
Cars.
Lots of them.
Fancy as fuck.
Now I’d obviously seen fancy cars before – even in Derby – but not at their offices, so I decided to pop in, say hello and see what was going on.
It was there I learned that a game they had spent years working on had become a success.
Not just in sales, but in its impact on broader culture.
A game I’d heard and read a lot about … but didn’t know it was from them.
And – to be honest – a game I probably would not naturally associate with them.
It was Tomb Raider.
A game that changed everyone in that companies life – for better and, in some cases, worse.
A game that featured a character – Lara Croft – that became the subject of sequels, TV shows, magazine covers, movies, books songs and young boys fantasies.
Tomb Raider – especially early Tomb Raider – was definitely of a time, but at the time, it was a revelation … which is why this image of the script scale of GTA really highlighted the change of games and the change of technology that enables them.
Look at it!
And that’s just the change between GTA 3 and 4.
So imagine what the impending GTA 6 script is going to look like.
More than that, imagine what the revenue is going to look like.
It’s already the biggest selling game and franchise in gaming console history – with over US$8 billion sold.
What’s also impressive is that they’ve been able to keep all of their ‘unsavoury’ elements and maintain their popularity. Given we live in such political times, that’s quite the achievement … and something the guys who own the Tomb Raider franchise must hate given they got left behind, despite trying to ‘modernise’ Lara.
That said, I was doing some work with Rockstar – GTA’s creators – a while back and mentioned how the context of the times meant they could really fuck with the authorities in a fascinating way and was interrupted by their lawyer who said:
“We are not going to be doing that”.
Which is almost as much of a high point as being fired by the Chili’s.
But that aside, the image above – at least to me – captures a moment when console games [and games as a whole for that matter] moved from escape to entertainment … even though the seeds of that change were made by a few particular people and titles … including one from some blokes in a building at 55 Ashbourne Road, Derby.