Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Family, Home, Love, Loyalty, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Nottingham
I watched something recently that made me happy, jealous and sad all at the same time.
I know … I know … they’re the sort of emotional extremes you’d normally associate with a psychopath – but hang in there.
I’ve written a lot about how much I loved my parents. How much I still do.
So many of the decisions and choices I’ve made in my life have been influenced by me wanting them to feel proud of me – even though they’re no longer here and I know very clearly that they were already.
But despite that, I still do stuff that is driven by a desire to thank them for being brilliant parents … to let them know that despite all the moments of ‘stupidity’ that I have embraced throughout my life, the lessons, encouragement and love they continually showed me, were never taken for granted.
Even more so because they never wanted anything from me.
Nor did they ever ask anything of me.
All they desired was that I choose a life of fulfillment over contentment.
It took me a long time to work out what that meant, but once I had worked it out – it fundamentally changed how I lived my life. Giving me clarity at times of confusion or complexity. Hell, it’s one of the main reasons I didn’t go back to the UK when I faced some truly challenging situations while living overseas … because even though I knew they’d love it if I’d gone back [and I’d have loved it too] – I felt I would be disrespecting the gift they’d given me by encouraging me go and explore the world when they were facing such personal hardship through Dad’s illness.
We talked a lot about this when Dad became ill.
I was due to go to Australia when Dad had his stroke. Suddenly I didn’t want to go … I wanted to stay with them and help, which was my new plan right until the moment I told my parents about it.
“NO!” they said.
This was not something they were willing to allow.
Of course they massively appreciated the consideration, but they wanted me to go and live my life rather than – as they saw it – be held back by their situation. Given how hard their situation was, it is fair to say that no one – least of all me – would have blamed them if they had asked me to stay, but they didn’t and I think part of that is because they knew that had I not gone then, I would never have left … and that was an outcome they were never going to allow.
That does not mean life wouldn’t have been good if I had stayed – I loved my parents and I loved Nottingham – but it is also fair to say the life I get to live and enjoy now is nothing like the one I would have experienced if I’d remained. As I’ve written many times before, everything I have in my life today, bar my relationship with my best friend Paul, is because I left the UK.
My family.
My career.
My lifestyle.
My experience.
My experiences.
Every single bit of it … which is why their actions are not only an incredible example of ‘unconditional love’, but also proof of how well my parents knew who I was and – with a bit of encouragement – who I could be.
What a gift.
What generosity.
Which may explain why I felt such a compulsion to repay their love. I don’t mean that just in terms of chasing a life of fulfillment, but in trying to help them make their life easier, happier and – dare I say it – more comfortable.
You see, whatever way you look at it, life wasn’t easy for them. In fact it never was.
Money was always very tight and now, with Dad’s health – and Mum caring for him 24/7 – it had now become even harder.
And while I did what I could, I was not earning the money that would allow me to do what I really wanted for them which was:
Pay off the house and buy Dad a yellow 1970’s, Rolls Royce with white-walled wheels.
In that order.
But hope and reality are separate beasts and even if I could have pulled it off, I know they would have lost their shit over it, because to them, they’d tell me I should be focusing on my future, not theirs.
Which leads me back to the beginning of this post and how I saw a clip that made me feel happy, jealous and sad all at the same time … because I got to watch a kid do this for his parents. Not the Rolls Royce bit, but the house.
I love it.
I love the reaction of the Father.
The slow realisation followed by the cavalcade of emotions …. pride, relief, gratitude and love.
I can only imagine how good the son felt to be able to do that for his folks.
And while my parents did – in the end – get to pay off the family home, it was not because of me but because of an insurance payout they received for a car accident they’d been involved in 5 years prior. And while I wish they hadn’t had to experience the accident to be able to pay off the home, I also know how happy it made my parents – especially my Dad, who knew he was nearing the end of life and so it reassured him Mum would be safe – but even then, I still wish I’d been able to do this for them.
Of course – as my career took off – I was able to repay/spoil/look after my Mum – but while I may still look at that clip with a mixture of emotions, I comfort myself knowing it has nothing really to do with buying your parents a home and everything to do with celebrating a loving, caring family and viewed through that lens … I know my parents knew how grateful I was for all they did and all they were.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Corporate Evil, Creativity, Education, Government, Marketing, Marketing Fail, New Zealand
After the recent emotional rollercoaster of posts – with the wonderful Fergus coming and the brilliant Martin going – let’s get back to some cynical musings, as the name of this blog supposedly ‘promises’. Or something …
So I was going for my daily walk when I passed a school in a posh part of Auckland.
By the gates, I saw this ad …
Now on one hand, I was quite impressed by the smarts of the real estate agents.
Putting an ad for a pricey home by the gates of the school pick-up zone is clever thinking.
As rich parents wait for their lucky kids, they have a captive audience to try and flog them another symbol of success.
But it’s also pretty appalling.
Not by the school – because even though it’s located in one of Auckland’s richest locations, its state run so likely needs the money like every other state school – but by the real estate agents.
Now I appreciate this may be a an ‘added benefit’ of them already donating money to the school. Plus, I acknowledge if they think the parents of the kids there can afford a piece of land – like the one on Waiheke Island – then maybe the school should be asking parents to contribute more to the education of their kids. But the fact Martin and Charles at Kellands Real Estate obviously negotiated this shows they don’t really care about the education of the kids, just the wallets of their parents.
I get this is how business operates these days.
I get it’s a very competitive market.
But just because you can, doesn’t always mean you should.
But this is how we operate … where everyone and everything is seen as a commodity waiting to be exploited by someone for personal gain.
No where demonstrates this as much as Linkedin with its endless unrequested ‘messages’ from strangers offering services that have nothing to do with what you do … but you kind-of expect that now, whereas this school ad caught me off guard.
Of course, the real people we should be aiming our anger at are the governments who continually under-invest in state education.
Conveniently forgetting that a smart nation is a strong nation … though some will claim that’s a very conscious reason why politicians do it.
Education and health are two of the most important things a nation can do for its people … that it’s become a pawn in the battle of politics is everything wrong with politics.
Which reminds me of the time someone said, “Democratic governments should be scared of its people. Ensuring they never forget who they represent and serve. When is the other way round, that’s when a nation has a problem”
While a real estate ad at a school in Auckland is something – in the big scheme of things – very small, in many ways it reveals, we have a problem.
Not an end-of-the World problem.
Not a call for revolution kind of a problem.
But a problem … because the focus is far more making a few people rich today, rather than helping an entire nation be better off tomorrow.
God, that’s waaaaaaaay too political for this blog. And on a Tuesday, no less.
I can assure you that tomorrow, things will be back to their bollocks best. Sorry.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Ambition, America, Amsterdam, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Australia, Bands, Billionaire, Birkenhead, Bonnie, Campaign Magazine, Canada, Career, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corporate Evil, Creativity, Culture, Dog, Dream Small, Easter, Empathy, England, Experience, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Hong Kong, Japan, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Management, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Michael Jordan, Miley, Mr Ji, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nike, Otis, Paul, Paula, R/GA, Relationships, Rockstar Games, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Sunshine, Sydney, The Kennedys, The Kennedys Shanghai, UK, Virgin Atlantic, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
I have written before that apart from my friend Paul, I owe almost everything in my life to the fact I left the UK and went on an adventure.
Without that, I would not have met my wife … would not have had my son … would not have had my pets … would not be working with rock stars … would not have had all the life experiences and adventures I’ve been fortunate to enjoy and almost certainly would not have the career I currently enjoy.
That’s pretty huge when you think about it and while there’s a whole list of people I need to thank for making it all possible, one of them is an old boss.
Who was a prick.
I had a rather complex relationship with this individual.
Because while they were pompous, petty, condescending and rude, they were also smart, knowledgable and experienced.
On top of that, they gave me a shot on a couple of projects that they probably shouldn’t have. I should point out that wasn’t because they necessarily believed in me – it was more there was no one else to do it – but I appreciated it all the same.
Anyway, when I decided to leave – to go explore opportunities in another country – they were pretty pissed off with me.
While I’d love to say it was because they didn’t want me to go, the reality was they were frustrated I was leaving after they’d agreed to give me a payrise.
That this ‘rise’ was still below market rate and they’d fucked me around for literally 2 years, seemed to have completely slipped their mind … which is maybe why on the day I left, they thought it would be ‘funny’ to write the following comment in my leaving card.
“You’ll be back. Come crawling”.
I remember watching him going around telling people what he had written, laughing hilariously at his own ‘joke’ and while I didn’t take it too much to heart – because everyone knew he was a bit of a prick – it still hurt.
Little did I know then, how those 5 little words would play such an pivotal role in how my career would turn out.
You see, when I ended up in this other country, I initially found it very difficult.
Not just because I didn’t have friends, contacts or a job … but because my Dad was very ill back in the UK.
In all honesty, the temptation to go back was huge but there were 2 reasons I stuck it out.
1. I wanted to show my gratitude to my parents for supporting and encouraging me to go, despite them going through a terribly tough time because of my Dad’s major stroke.
2. Those 5 little words.
While I’d like to think the former was the biggest motivator, I fear it may have been the latter.
That’s pretty pathetic isn’t it … especially as I could have gone back without having to go back to that old job.
But I wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction directly or indirectly.
And so I persevered.
Pushed, prodded, walked the streets, did shitty, temporary roles … anything that kept me from gaving to go back with my tail betweeen my legs.
And it everntually worked out.
Not because of any talent I did or did not have, but because of my perseverence.
And willingness to take any bullshit salary … hahaha.
But for me, getting a break was my main objective … because while I knew I was not the smartest strategst, I knew my work ethic meant I could out-work most.
Now don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that is a toxic trait – but it is my trait – and back then, it was a way for me to prove my worth to agencies/clients who didn’t have to give me a chance or keep me on board.
Of course, over the years, my motivation for continuing to explore the possibilities of the World and my career have evolved.
These days it is far more about wanting to feel I’d be making my parents proud than it is me reacting to 5 little words from a toxic, little manager.
But I also have to acknowledge that without that persons toxic motivation, it is unlikely I would be in the situtation I currently enjoy.
So thank you AC … you were a strange little man, but for all the fucked up shit you did – and there was plenty – you did one thing right, even if it was wrong.
And while I doubt you even remember me – let alone care what I’ve done – it doesn’t matter.
Because I didn’t come back and didn’t come crawling and so for that, I won, so there.
It’s Easter long-weekend that then leads into a big week for me/Colenso – from us hosting Fergus and his OnStrategy podcast to me saying goodbye [for the second time] to someone who is very special to me … so have a great weekend, overeat Chocolate and Hot Cross Buns and I’ll see you Tuesday.
Till then, this is for you AC.
With thanks.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Comment, Love, My Childhood, Nottingham
This week has been a week of – of me – serious posts.
So maybe it’s because I can’t keep that up for 5 days straight …
Or because Colenso won ‘Agency Of The Year’ last night in NZ …
Or that today would have been my Mum and Dad’s 61st wedding anniversary …
Or – also today – it is my friend, Heleen’s, birthday …
… but I thought I’d end the post on something else entirely.
When I was growing up in Nottingham, there was a busker affectionately known as ‘Xylophone Man’.
Part of the reason for this name was because he actually played a xylophone. The other part was he played it absolutely terribly. But with unbelievable enthusiasm.
If truth be known, all he did was run his mallet the entire length of the notes and then – at the end – he would flamboyantly raise his hand in the air as if he had just performed a concerto to a stadium of adoring fans. He’d do this over and over again … sometimes up the xylophone, sometimes down … but always with his big, toothless smile on his face.
I’d see him every Saturday in town [AKA, Nottingham City Centre], outside C&A … always playing, always happy, rain or shine.
But what is amazing is he was adored by all.
Rich, humble, famous, infamous, families, teens, drunks …
No one gave him any trouble because everyone was captivated by the enthusiasm and happiness he had for what he did and the sound he made.
His name was Frank, and when he died in 2004, the city got together to honor him … not just paying for his funeral, but also contributing to a plaque to commemorate who he was, what he did and where he did it.
Because what he gave us was far more than some xylophone ‘tunes’.
He gave the people of the city a common connection …
A way for us to step out of our lives and into our community …
A moment to bond, to smile, to laugh, to clap, to cheer. Both at the beauty of life and the absurdity of it.
And I think that’s what Frank liked the most. Being seen for who he was rather than being ignored because of who he wasn’t.
There’s a million different sort of Frank’s in this world.
Some may be in your office.
Some may even be part of your family.
But basically, they’re individuals who are happy with who they are and don’t aspire to be anything more than that.
And the funny thing is, while a lot of society often regard these people as lacking drive, value or ambition, I am increasingly of the opinion they’re the one’s who have got life worked out the best.
Because they appreciate what they have.
They enjoy and value what they do.
And they never waste their time, energy or emotions chasing things that only matter to those who spend too most of their life hiding who they are.
Writing this post, I found an old interview with Frank – and I have to say, he sounds exactly the same way as he played.
Eccentric.
Endearing.
Amusing.
The Frank’s of this world matter.
They remind us of what’s important.
They connect us to where we’re from.
The help define who we are.
At a time where we are surrounded – and as a byproduct, encouraged – to engage in ‘professional bravado’, the Frank’s of this World have, arguably, never been so important.
To remind us experience, trumps popularity.
That fulfillment, beats job titles.
And substance, smokes speed.
And while many may discount or ignore them the Frank’s of this world, it’s worth remembering he got a city commemorating him, whereas most of us are lucky if an ex-collegaue occasionally emails us.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Awards, Birthday, Bonnie, Cannes, Cliches, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Jill, Otis, Paul, Paula, WARC
So, I’m back.
And I survived.
Better yet, the family … pooch … and my colleagues seemed relatively happy to see me, which is a massive win.
Plus the people with the birthdays, had good ones. Albeit maybe because I didn’t get to share it with them.
Anyway, Cannes was interesting.
I have a very weird relationship with it because while I love hearing great people talk … looking at some incredible work and seeing old friends, I do hate a lot of ‘the scene’.
The indulgence.
The egotism.
The excess.
That said, so much of that is now coming from people and companies who work in consultancies, tech, research or big multinationals – rather than ad agencies or companies who practice creativity in the truest sense of the word. Part of that is because they’re the only ones who can afford it … but it also reveals a chink in their ‘armor of confidence’. Evidence that for all their smarts, they’re desperate to feel admired, liked, wanted … without ever realizing their American Psycho approach to life attracts derision more than attraction.
At least for me.
I often wonder if all industry conference get-togethers create this sort of energy.
Do dentists/analysts/publishers [delete as appropriate] start to convince themselves they’re the Masters-Of-The-Universe when all packed tightly into one room?
As I said, Cannes is brilliant for the talks, the creativity and the ability to reconnect with old friends.
It’s nice to see a celebration of what we do when so often it faces a barrage of abuse from people who wouldn’t know creativity if it smashed them in the face.
But the vulgar displays of excess are less attractive to me.
As are the giant ads from tech/consultancy companies which are trying to position themselves as creative but end up demonstrating they’re the total opposite.
At least that’s slightly amusing, especially because you know it took them 6 months of board approval/design to make it happen.
But I digress …
I’m back.
I had a good time.
I’m thankful to WARC and Paula for making it happen.
I’m very happy to have seen some old friends after years.
But – unfortunately for you – I’m ready to write more blog bollocks.