The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


And So It Begins. For The 19th Bloody Time …

Happy 2025 and welcome to year 19 of my rubbish.

I trust/hope you had a good break … even if that is simply because I didn’t write a blog post for a few weeks.

I had a great one.

Not just – as I’ve written before – because New Zealand does the ‘holiday season’ better than anywhere on the planet, but because this year was so different to the year before.

And just to reinforce how much better it was, the day I landed back in NZ I was rushed to hospital as my ‘good eye’ decided to basically stop working.

I say ‘good eye’ because when I was 21, my right eye got a detached retina [from picking up a bag of bloody coal, like some cliched Northerner from the 1800’s ] and while they managed to reattach it – which was touch and go due to some complications – it resulted in it having very bad vision out of it. However, thanks to my left eye being good, I’ve never had to worry about my sight beyond how much it costs to have for lenses that don’t look like I’m wearing beer bottles on my face plus the general protection of my head and eyes.

Even though it has been like this for 33+ years, I’ve never taken my sight – or the protection of my eyes – for granted, so you can imagine how freaked out I was when suddenly my good eye basically stopped working a day before we flew back to NZ from Asia.

Now it’s not totally sorted, but I have been assured it will over the next couple of months [which is handy as you can see from the photo below, I look bloody weird with different sized pupils which means people are even less inclined to look at me] and yet despite all this, I STILL CONSIDER THIS HOLIDAY BETTER THAN LAST YEARS.

Let me explain why …

You see back in December 2023, I started work with a new private client.

They had asked me to do a big project for them with a first check-in date of mid-Jan.

I knew it would take a couple of weeks or so to write things up but stupidly, I decided I’d do it over the holidays rather than before.

There was some rationale for that decision …

+ I had a bunch of stuff to finish before the holidays.
+ I had a bunch of reading to do relating to who this client was as a person/artist.
+ I was exhausted and wanted a break before I got stuck into things.
+ It was the bloody festive season and that’s a time I wanted to spend with family.

But the problem was that even though I had a plan for when to do the work, my brain wouldn’t let me forget about it.

So each day, the thought of the work I had to do would nag and niggle at me.

Slowly upping the volume and pressure.

So as each day ended, all I could think about was how I had even less time to relax before I had to start work, which resulted in me not being able to fully enjoy or relax until – in what felt like the blink of an eye – it was time to get started.

When that happened, the annual break I was so looking forward to, wasn’t just over … but never even had a chance to properly start. So instead of being relaxed and ready, I was tired and anxious.

Add to that, that the holiday season the year before had also been rather a traumatic – with Otis and I both ending up in hospital and my dear friend Chelsea, passing away – I was a shattered, emotionally not just physically.

The result of this was that the first 3 months of 2024 were, in all honesty, one of the most stressful times of my life. Not necessarily because the project was hard – though it was certainly demanding, albeit incredibly exciting – but because I had not allowed myself the break I needed to be ready for a completely new challenge.

The good news – if you can call it that – was the impact of these choices and decisions was very obvious to me and I knew I would never, ever let something like that happen to me again. Which is why before the most recent holidays started, I wrote to all my clients – both my private ones and Colenso’s international ones, who don’t have the same holiday duration as our local clients – telling them I was out.

Not ‘out unless you have an urgent requirement’ … but out.

Nada. Zilch. Gone.

And you know what?

No one minded. Not one.

Now, you could say that’s because they find me an absolute pain-in-the-ass to deal with, but I think – or should I say, hope – I believe it is because they respected my time and respected the efforts I’d put into their business over the past 11 months.

I get not everyone has that opportunity.
I get being able to have a break of this duration is a privilege.
But the reality is a break is the greatest investment you can make in yourself or your people.

It gives them a chance to decompress. To think. To let shit go. To get excited again.

Doesn’t matter if you’re a checkout operator or an old bastard, advertising strategist.

It’s why I hate how some companies treat ‘holidays’ like it’s a gift … something you can only have if it suits the organisations needs, timelines and ego.

Fuck that.

For all the talk companies say about ‘our staff being our greatest asset’, the second best demonstration of that – after being paid fairly – is valuing, encouraging and protecting their rights to a break.

And by that, I mean respecting their people’s right and need to have ‘proper holidays’ rather than attempting to hide their toxicity under the guise of bullshit like unlimited holidays … which not only aren’t ever true, but are something they actively go out of their way to ensure can never be realised.

And don’t get me started on the US attitude to vacations, with their 10 days a year allowance … meaning many people can’t have any break of significance without either years of sacrifice or days of unpaid leave.

It’s why I’m eternally grateful for Colenso’s attitude to holidays.

And why I’m eternally grateful for how NZ values and protects their ‘festive season break’.

[Though one unfortunate side-effect is people often don’t take a break in the rest of the year so they can save it all up for the end of the year, which can also contribute to people feeling and experiencing burnout]

And why I’m eternally grateful to my clients for appreciating and encouraging it for me.

Of course part of the reason for their generosity is because it’s in their interests … because a holiday increases the odds great things will happen for them thanks to your renewed energy, focus and inspiration. But hey, I respect they get this because we all win from it rather one person feeling indebted to the other for having what is their god-damn given right to have.

So hello 2025 … let’s see what you’ve got in store for me.

Or should I say, look out for what I’ve got in store for you.

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Goodbye To You And To 2024 …

So this is it, the last post of the year.

Can’t believe it.

Looking back on 2024, I have to admit that generally it’s been a really good year for me.

+ The family are happy and healthy.
+ I’m happy and unnervingly healthy.
+ Work has been good and rewarding.
+ My team have been [generally] bloody wonderful, haha.
+ I got to travel a bunch to work with talented people on awesome projects.
+ I experienced stuff I’ve never had the chance to do before, which at my age is epic.
+ I was part of some creativity that’s right up there with some of the best stuff I’ve ever done.
+ This blog – albeit by its ‘questionable standards’ – had some pretty decent posts. Kinda.
+ I got a bunch of new tattoos and a new car – albeit one that was crashed into within a week.
+ Forest stayed in the Premiership and – so far – are doing better than the last 2 seasons.
+ And last but by no means least, the Tories got kicked out of government in the UK.

So, with that list of achievements and experiences, I can say this year, by all accounts, has been a pretty epic year for me.

Now I completely appreciate my privilege in being able to say this when so many are having such a hard time, but I can’t deny it happened … and while I’m obviously grateful for it, I also know it is as much down to luck than any so-called ability I may or may not have.

That said – and in no way am I trying to suggest this ‘balances things out’ – there’s been a few things that have been very challenging for me and my family to deal with this year. Not just in terms of the shit the World is going through right now … but things much closer to home.

The loss of our dear Rosie after 17 amazing years, the break-up of my best friend’s marriage after almost 20 and the horrible, premature death of a dear client placed a huge toll on us/me emotionally and professionally.

And while we know ‘life goes on’, that doesn’t mean they don’t leave scars … scars that I/we are still experiencing and dealing with today.

Each of these tragic events had a very destabilizing effect on me/us … amplified by the fact that in the case of Rosie and Paul/Shelly especially, they were long-term ‘stability pillars’ for us and now they are irrevocably fractured.

I should explain what I mean by ‘stability pillars’ …

Put simply, they were entities we could rely on – or lean on – through good times and bad.

An emotional life-raft, as it were … and given we have chosen to live so far away from so many of the people and places we feel most connected to, it meant we probably had an over-reliance on their involvement in our life.

An over-reliance that we may have taken too much for granted. Thinking it will never change or go away. Naïve maybe.

Now don’t get me wrong, we have friends in NZ and enjoy living here, but it’s different … partly because we’re not from here, partly because we’re still relatively new here and partly because we know we won’t be here forever.

Of course, I get that’s ultimately our choice and decision, but the point is for all the positive things that have happened to us and for us this year – and there’s more than we could have hoped for or maybe even deserve, at least in my case – the impact of those 3 important relationships, have left an indelible mark on the year for us.

Which leads to why this holiday season is so important for me … for us … and most likely for the people involved and affected by the events that have happened.

I cannot tell you how much I’m looking forward to it. Not just because it’s a break, but because it’s a chance to unite, gather, refresh, restore and replenish.

I absolutely get others deserve – and most likely need – it more, but it still is very important and valuable to us too.

Fortunately, not only will we be getting it, but by living in NZ – which, as I wrote here, is the best place in the World to have it – it means we will have the space to truly embrace it and I’ve never been so grateful for it.

Talking of grateful …

This year was only possible because of the people around me.

From my family and friends, through to my colleagues and [some] of my clients, haha.

But it would be remiss of me not to acknowledge the people who read my rubbish on here.

And while I no longer allow comments, I know there’s still a bunch of people out there who do thanks to the data, the emails or the sarcastic texts. [Hello Andy!]

I’ve been writing this for almost 2 decades and in many ways, it has forged the glue of connection that has made our constant moving around the World a bit easier.

A way to never feel too alone. Too isolated. Too new.

That may sound dramatic, but it’s true.

Which is why I want to offer my thanks to each and every one of you for all you have done for me – even if it’s just occasionally read what I write.

I’m grateful for your interest and commentary and hope the holidays will be as good to you, as I hope 2025 is good for all of us.

Just with mine being a little bit better than yours … hey, I’m an only-child, so what do you expect? Haha.

In all honesty, I have some specific plans/hopes for next year. Plans/hopes that could give me a different perspective and experience in my – and my families – life. Whether that happens is anyone’s guess, but I’m quite excited to see if I can pull it off. See what we may discover and experience if it happens, both individually and as a family.

But before that can even happen, it’s time to rest …

So with that, I say ta-ra.

See you on the other side.

For year 19, starting Jan 13, 2025.

Happy holidays everyone. Wherever you are. Whatever you celebrate.

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Living Overseas Is A Gift That Keeps On Giving …

I’ve written a lot over the years about the gift of living overseas.

I’ve talked about how I totally understand why people worry about what they’ll miss … but they should also think about what they’ll gain.

I’ve highlighted how I owe everything in my life – bar my relationship with Paul – to me living and working overseas.

Everything.

My wife.
My son.
My cat.
My career.
My whole life.

I don’t say that lightly … and I don’t ignore the fact I’ve also faced things I’ve missed and miss … but overall, it’s an amazing gift the World has given me.

Recently I was given another reminder of how wonderful it is.

I was in Edmonton, in Northern Canada.

It’s the most northern city in the World with a population of 1 million.

I’d never been there before. I’d never even heard of it before. But there I was … in a wonderful restaurant called Ridge Rd, with some clients … when I received this:

It’s a message from someone I knew in China. Someone I last spoke to probably 10+ years ago. But here I was, in a city I’d never been to – far from pretty much every other city I’d been – having an old friend say they were there too. I can’t tell you how lovely that was. How wonderful that an isolated city had brought me closer to someone from my past.

Now you may think that’s kinda-crazy, and I guess it is … but it’s happened before.

It happened when I took my Mum to the North Pole to see the Northern Lights.
It happened when I was in a small town in Brazil.
It happened when I was in Russia.
It happened when I was in Finland.

It has happened a lot because I’ve lived in a lot of countries … and every single time, it’s made me feel incredibly fortunate for the experiences, places and people it has brought into my life.

I get it’s a privilege and I don’t take that for granted.

But that privilege is far more than simply being able to live in different countries or earn different amounts of money – if you’re lucky. It’s about the ability to connect to different people, cultures and contexts. Their backgrounds, their viewpoints, their ambitions, their fears, their issues, their opportunities, their hopes, their references, their perspectives … that’s what the privilege is really about.

It makes you a bigger and better person for it.

Not just in terms of your own knowledge, but your own place in the world.

Which is why, when I got that random SMS from someone I knew in China while sat in a small restaurant in a small city in Northern Canada, I was so happy. Because that could only happen because I said ‘yes’ to opportunities when arguably, it would have been easier to say no.

I get it’s hard. I get not everyone has that chance.

But if you do, grab it. Because nothing lets you feel you’re living life than hearing from people you would have otherwise never met in places you never imagined you would ever go.

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I’m Not Quite Half The Man I Used To Be, But I’m Definitely Less …

Back in November of last year, I wrote about how I was eating healthy.

It was quite a big thing for me to talk about – which is weird, given I have absolutely no problem writing about death, unemployment or the size of my best friends appendage, to name but a few of the subjects I’ve waxed lyrical about that many smarter people would rather shut-up than share.

But since then, more things have happened and while I genuinely feel uncomfortable to write it, I am also quite proud of myself, so here we go.

You see what happened was back in August, my doctor asked me to spend 3 months focusing on my health. To try and retrain my habits. To make different choices about my diet. To see what might happen by doing it.

And while I’ve been a helpless – and willing – slave to the seductive powers of pasta and sugar for basically my whole life … I decided this was the time I was going to go all in.

So I did.

65g of carbs a day. 25g of sugar a day. 1700 calories a day.

Every day.

And while it was hard at first, once I knew what I could do – and eat – it was satisfying. Well … more satisfying than I imagined. And that only grew when the results of those first 3 months came in.

I’d lost 22kg.
I’d dropped 4 sizes in clothes.
I saw every one of my health measures hit ‘healthy’.
My doctor called to ask if I was OK as the results were so extreme, he thought either the original results were inaccurate or I was doing a different sort of damage to myself.

[For the record, he was wrong on both counts – I was just in a very intimate relationship with chicken and spinach]

And as good as all that was – and it was very good – the biggest change was that I have started to like myself for the first time in a long time.

Yes, I appreciate that sounds tone deaf and dramatic given there are people who face real challenges and problems, whereas I have an amazing family, a wonderful life and lifestyle and a rewarding and fulfilling job … but it’s true.

In my defence, I didn’t really realise it until I started coming out the other side. Mainly because I think the impact was over time … slowly but surely, bit by bit … until at some point, it found a way to settle permenantly just under my surface.

And while it only popped up to mess with me at certain times and moments – and I suspected what may be behind it all – it is only recently that I was able to confirm my concerns about my health, maybe more than my actual health, was the cause of it.

Or should I say, the concerns about my sub-optimal health.

Just to be clear, what I’m talking about is self-esteem.

God it’s a weird thing.

It’s in your power and yet you’re also powerless to it and I felt I was in its grip.Putting me in a corner that I didn’t think I could get out of so I adapted my ways and choices to try and counteract it, without realising I was just giving it more power over me in more ways.

Which is why as I have got more in control of my health, I have felt a bit of a rebirth.

A bit more confidence about what I can do.

A bit more happiness about who I am.

From the superficial to the deeply, deeply personal.

Part of this is because I’m now wearing smaller sized clothes than I have in literally decades and I’m almost ashamed at how much that has affected me. Of course, it’s also bankrupting me as I have to basically buy new t-shirts that no longer look like I’m wearing a man tent dress … but it has changed more than just the size, but what I choose. Because frankly, more things are now available to me and so I’m experimenting with clothes like I’m a 10 year old kid. Well, I say experimenting, but it really has come down to a few t-shirts in colours that aren’t black and some socks [which is, let’s be honest, already a shock given my Birkenstock obsession] in a range of ridiculous colours. Fuck, I even colour coded my t-shirt and socks once … something never ever done in my life. And – to be honest – never to be done again.

But it is in terms of my family that I am the most indebted.

Because I’ve likely increased the time I’ll be here for my wife and son.

OK, so there wasn’t a identified risk that was going to cut it short … but health is always going to make it last longer and that means everything to me.

Because I love my family.

Love every little thing about them.

Of course they can annoy the fuck out of me, but I am sure I am far worse to them – even though this shocks me as I’m obviously a saint.

But as my son is just 9, I want to be around for as long as I can. I want to see the life he builds, I want to be there for the choices he wants to make. I want to just be in his life and have him in mine for as long as possible. With my wonderful wife by my side. Building new adventures and sharing them. Together.

Now I appreciate that all sounds very Hallmark card … but I do, that’s maybe all I want in some ways … and I’d be denying the truth if I said I hadn’t wondered if this was going to be as possible as I hoped it would be.

And yet … I felt it was an impossible situation to change.

I wanted it.

I knew what could help it.

But I didn’t have the skills or the energy or the willpower. Always having an excuse why I couldn’t dedicate the time and energy to it. Which is mad given I have a fuck-ton of energy and willpower to do a bunch of other stuff … but I had convinced myself that I’d met my match and so that affected me deeply in my head. Loving my family but not knowing how to make sure that love could be around for longer.

I know, it sounds pathetic, but I bet I am not the only one who has faced this psychological prison. And just to be clear, it’s not that I hadn’t tried things to change it. I had. And failed … over and over again. Which not only made me feel a bit more shit about myself, but also convinced myself I was not going to win this battle.

Which is why the pride Otis has in what I’ve done that makes me almost cry with joy. And what breaks my heart is that he obviously had the same worries about how long I’d be around. Not overtly. Not daily. But he tells me how proud he is of me and how happy he is I’m ‘healthy’ … and so while no one knows when the ‘end day’ will come, removing some of the more blatant concerns that it could be sooner than you hope, is a psychological gift in itself.

Now I am not going to say if I can do it, anyone can.

I couldn’t do it for 53 years and you don’t have to be healthy to be happy.

I hate that attitude.

And I was happy … I’m just saying I’m happier now.

With myself.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t have issues – I do, bloody loads of them – but it means I have less than I’ve been carrying, which is nice.

In fact, as of today, I have 30kg less problems I’m carrying – ha.

But let’s not ignore the reality that doing this is really fucking hard – especially at the start – and I needed a Doctor to basically scare me into it and needed to actively choose to not make excuses for not sticking with it. Which is why if anyone resonates with my story and wants to chat about their situation – or what I did to try and get out of it – then just get in touch and I’ll listen and share.

While there is a conscious mental decision to be made, at its heart it’s simply about food choices and portion choices. Oh, and investment … both in time and – sadly – money.

Because it’s a privilege to be able to do this, because – ironically – eating less costs more. Or it does if you want to make it easier.

But the good news is there’s choices that actually are good … and you’re talking to someone who thinks kebab and chips is fine dining. So if you want to know more, I’ll tell you what worked for me and how I did it and then you can decide what’s right for you.

Which leaves me to say a huge thanks to my family, doctor, clients, colleagues and whoever the fuck invented 99% sugar free buffalo sauce … because they made this happen. They made this possible,

And while I may fuck up occasionally, I now know I won’t fuck up every single mealtime and that’s a win in my book, because this journey has taught me things about myself and my habits that have been a revelation.

In fact the only thing I am disappointed about is I’ve still not used the overpriced bloody treadmill I bought. Though I’m glad I got the cool, foldable, wifi and bluetooth enabled one … which means there’s some things about me that will never change.

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Terrifying Tuesday. That Is A Thursday …

So I’m back.

And after an October where I went to Fiji, Australia, China and America … November is wonderfully static.

Don’t get me wrong, I love travelling … but that was ridiculous.

For all the talk of how COVID would change the way companies would work and interact, I’m meeting more and more people who are travelling more than they did pre-pandemic.

And that’s scary for a whole lot of reasons.

Personal, environmental, commercial.

Scarier than the that day where ghosts and ghouls are supposed to come out and haunt us. Also known as the day kids keep coming to your door demanding sweets.

Yes … that’s a terrible link to the point of this post, but I wrote it to originally appear on Halloween, but then I went to the US and missed my chance, so here we go.

Halloween in NZ is definitely less full-on than the US.

Oh my god … they love holidays and Halloween is one they embrace full-on.

When we lived in Manhattan Beach … it was like a community event.

The whole street would basically come out, all dressed in god-knows what, embracing the mood and the moment.

Obviously I hate that level of sociability … but even I got caught up in it, buying a ridiculously sized baby head from a shop, which I tried on in the car before casually looking to my right and seeing [1] I was next to a bank and [2] I had a security guard looking at me as if I was going to rob the joint.

Good times. Ahem.

Anyway, to keep with the ‘scary’ mood, Otis recently became the proud owner of these …

Yep … Crocs.

Fucking Crocs.

I know we talked about them recently in our ‘Strategy is constipated, imagination is the laxative’ talk … I know I have some sort of grudging respect that they are cool with charging $8 for each ‘personalised attachment’ you can add to the shoes … I know, with Otis’ dysgraphia, they are much easier for him to put on than many others … I know I can’t talk with my love of Birkies … but, but, but THEY’RE FUCKING CROCS.

Seriously, compared to them, Birkenstocks are liked pieces of art.

And yet they continue to live.

To thrive.

Like cockroaches of the footwear category.

Which means I have to salute their brand management and imagination.

Which is better than 99% of brands out there.

Which is why we put them in our Cannes talk.

And why I felt scared enough to put them in a post that was supposed to appear on halloween.

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