Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Culture, Emotion, Family, Mum, Mum & Dad

Recently I was talking to a friend of mine about getting old.
Not in terms of age, but attitude.
We were discussing how there are some people we meet who just seem to embrace stepping out of life.
OK, maybe that’s a bit dramatic … more they choose to only focus on what is of interest to them, but there’s a seemingly deliberate ‘closing off’ to the things that are new or different or just happening around them.
It’s like they’ve put on a pair of ‘cultural blinkers’ they don’t intend to ever take off. Expressed in how they look. How they talk. What they like. What they say.
Now … there is absolutely nothing wrong with these people. They can do what the fuck they like. But it’s definitely not how I look – and live – my life.
And then my friend said something that caught me off guard.
He told me this story of someone he knew who used to tell him, “don’t let the old man in”.
[I subsequently discovered, thanks to a post on exactly the same subject by Kevin Chesters, it was a song by country singer, Toby Keith, who was inspired to write it after a chat with Clint Eastwood – who was about to turn 88 years old – while playing golf]
Anyway, I found it fascinating.
Not just the turn of phrase, but the implication that ‘stepping out of pop culture’ was, at a certain point, a default setting.
That to avoid doing that required a commitment to not doing that.
With hindsight, it should have been obvious, given – as I wrote in her post last week – my Mum was the embodiment of that attitude.
She absolutely did not want others to define her – or judge her – by her age.
And while that didn’t mean she dressed like some suburban version of Madonna, circa 1984 [or even 2023 for that matter] it did mean she was always open to what others were open to.
She followed young comedians … she went to see new movies … she read modern literature … she studied politics …
She didn’t necessarily like – or understand it all – but she was open to learning about it.
Because in her mind, the best way to embrace life was to have a curious mind, and for her, that meant caring about what others cared about.
And I took that all for granted until my mate said ‘don’t let the old man in’ and then I realised it was a conscious effort.
I distinctly remember her telling me about a time someone said they were surprised ‘someone of her age’ would be interested in a particular subject or activity. I still remember the defiance in her voice when she said, “I don’t want to live by their outdated expectations”.
Now you have to understand my Mum was the opposite of a rebel.
She was a kind, considerate, compassionate person. But in terms of not living up to stereotypes, she was an anarchist.
That doesn’t mean she ever did something she didn’t want to do simply because younger people did, it just means she found things interesting that people who ‘let the old man in’ didn’t.
This was a revelation to me.
Not just because I now realised my Mum had actively chosen to refuse to embrace the ‘default’ setting, but I was doing the same.
Please don’t think I’m suggesting I’m on the cutting edge of anything … but by the same token, I’m also not closing myself off to life either.
In fact, I’d go as far as to say, the older I get, the more open I am to stuff.
Views. Fashion. Food. Music. Health. Ideals. Art. Everything …
And while I originally thought this was my default setting, I’m now realising it’s not.
It’s an active choice.
A desire to stay open and interested.
Being in a young persons industry helps.
Working with international rockstars and fashion gods helps.
Having parents who were always looking forward, not behind, helps.
But it is also my choice. I just didn’t realise it.
Which suddenly explains so much that I didn’t realise till that conversation.
From the things I buy … the multitude of magazines I read … the things that grab my attention … the people I hire.
It’s the realisation that I live by a ferocious, subconscious desire to keep the old man out.
Not because I want to be young. But because I definitely don’t want to be old.
In terms of attitude, not age.
Which is why I now realise people who say others are ‘growing old disgracefully’ have got it wrong.
Because they’re not growing old disgracefully, they’re growing old with curiosity’.
And as aging traits go, that’s surely pretty awesome?
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Business, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Customer Service, Effectiveness, Food, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Membership, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect, Strategy, Trust
So Kevin Chesters recently posted some work from the far distant past.
It was work that I adored at the time and even now, I feel is one of the best pieces of communication ever made.
EVER. MADE.
But it’s not NIKE. Or Apple. Or anything approaching ‘cultural cool’ … it’s for a supermarket.
Oh, but wait … there’s more.
Because it’s not a brand ad – though it does a ton for the brand – it’s a retail ad.
But instead of starbursts and shelf wobblers … it’s a masterclass in craft and smarts. Where the majestic charm and wry humour not only treats the audience with intelligence, but communicates price in a way you see value both in the product and the company selling it.
Regardless of the item.
Regardless of the audience ‘segment’.
Regardless of whether it’s selling food or their loyalty scheme.
It’s incredible and what’s more … it’s from the early 2000’s.
I think.
But despite being almost 20 years old, it’s still one of the best examples of a brand that knows who they are, knows who their audience is and knows the relationship they would like to have with their audience.
More than that, they know the problem they’re solving.
Not just in a general sense … but in terms of the potential barrier for each item.






In a world of wish-standard Nike knockoffs, this is an example of advertising not just communicating, but undeniably contributing to the growth, value and reputation of the company it represents.
When it wants to be – and when it’s allowed to be – this industry can be outstanding.
While we can’t control the standards other parties may demand, we can control what ours are.
Of course, in these ‘procurement-led times’ you could say ‘you get what you pay for’.
And I get that.
But watching the value and standards of what we do fall down a drain doesn’t seem a particularly good business approach.
Which is why I find myself repeating what an old boss of mine used to say to me.
“What happens next is up to us”.
He’s never been more right.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Apathy, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Complicity, Culture, Daily Fail, Daily Mail, Diversity, Dysgraphia, Education, Empathy, England, Fatherhood, Hope, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Perspective, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
OK … so yesterday I said the posts this week were all superficial shite, but that was until I read an article that has pissed me off.
Have a look at this headline:

On one side, it’s from the Daily Mail – so this sort of divisive headline is to be expected – but what made me especially angry is the daughter in question is not ‘rebellious’, she has dysgraphia and dyscalculia … so she finds writing, reading and maths incredibly difficult.
NOT because she isn’t smart or capable, but because she has a neurological condition so she learns in a different way to the one the education system is set up to teach.
To be fair to the school in this article, it sounds they tried to help … but it also sounds they were so stretched that the way they approached it was more about giving them time off school rather than adapting their approach to schooling.
I’ve written about this in the past given Otis has dysgraphia and his school has been active in trying to adapt to help. Even then it’s not been easy – or perfect – but at least Otis knows he’s seen, heard and valued … which is more than the woman in this article probably feels.
Imagine being neurodivergent and having a national newspaper refer to you as rebellious and having your own Mum be OK with that.
Worse, the Mum makes it all about her and ‘her struggles’.
Yes, it can be hard … and yes, it can be stressful … but it’s a fuck-of-a-lot worse for kids going through this sort of thing. They feel stupid. They feel left behind. They feel discarded and useless. So the last thing they need is a parent – and an education system – labelling them rebellious or lazy when what they’re dealing with is neurological. To make matters worse, this neurological challenge doesn’t impact their capacity to learn, just the way they do learn … so they have huge amounts of potential but with too few people wanting to see it, recognise it and liberate it.
This article could have been about the need to relook at how we educate. It could have been about the importance of needs rather than standardisation. It could have been about progress rather than judgement. Instead this ‘newspaper’ decided to write a piece that shows they view compassion and encouragement as weakness and unfairness.
Shame on them.
Shame on the mother for allowing this headline.
Shame on the people who commented negatively without understanding.
You have to be pretty fucking vile to be jealous some kids need special attention from their schools.
It’s not elitism you pricks, it’s dealing with an issue not of their making and helping them stand a chance of having a life that is bigger than the one people like you want for them.
Fuck you. All of you.
You’re welcome.




Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Family, Hotels, Technology
A long time ago, I was working on an innovation brief for a prestigious car brand.
As I sat there, listening to all the engineers talking, I realised their focus was more on optimising and evolving rather than innovating.
By that I mean, they were more focused on what they do and how they could make it better and more useful than embracing issues that were bigger than just the industry that they’re in.
So I said it.
Silence and incredulity.
“So what would you suggest?” one of them asked.
Now in these situations, it can only go one of three ways.
1. You go blank.
2. You say something they’ve already done/thought about.
3. You say something that makes them stop and think.
In the vast majority of cases – let’s be honest – it tends to be numbers 1 or 2, but on this occasion, I said something that fell into the last bracket.
“What if you made the car the most private, personal space they could be?”
That shut them up.
They weren’t expecting that.
To be honest, either was I … but while they came back at me with all sorts of technological and legal reasons why this couldn’t be done or wouldn’t be wanted – from car data through to our desire to be always contactable through our digital devices – the chief engineer was suitably intrigued for him to ask me to work with them on exploring what it could mean and who it would appeal to, most.
Which led to a year of one of the most interesting projects I ever worked on.
I should point out that when I talked about privacy, it was not about ‘isolation’ … though there is a value in that … I was talking literally about privacy.
Or said another way, ‘what goes on in your car, stays in your car’.
And while there was a bunch of fascinating research and explorations that went on in the quest to see where this could end up, it never got to where I hoped it would. And it certainly never manifested into an actual product I thought it could become.
Which is why this graffiti I got sent recently, hit home:
To me, this encapsulated where my head was at.
The desire to have a place where we are assured privacy and/or solitude.
A cross between a hibernation and a cultural vacuum, if you will.
To be honest, this was all influenced by work we did for Taj Hotels back in 2007 … where we blocked all mobile access at certain Taj resorts.
Back then, it was less about social media and more about the intrusion of work on family holidays … but the premise – and benefit – was the same.
[For the record, it was only possible because of where technology and the law was at back then. Plus all customers opted into this experiment with the acknowledgement there were alternative contact methods available, even if not as convenient]
Of course, I appreciate that was slightly different to what I put forward with the car idea. That was more about having a ‘social kills switch’ when the car was more a mobile ‘black hole’ … but I do believe the value of privacy – even momentary privacy – will soon rival that of FOMO.
We’re already seeing it.
From VPN’s to quiet luxury.
Not because we don’t want to be connected with the world around us.
But because we want to feel we have greater control over it.