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


The Fine Line Between Inspiration And Vulgarity …

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.

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Pride Can Come Before A Fall, But It Can Also Make You Stick Things Out To Let The Impossible Happen So A Prick Doesn’t Win…

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.

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The Gift That Keeps On Giving Is A Gift Of Mischief …

So I’m back and it was, as expected, amazing.

Obviously I have a deep love of Asia, but I have a special place in my heart for Vietnam.

Anyone who knows anything about history will understand the creativity of the place, be that its food, its art, its industry or its ability to find ways to beat every enemy who has tried to invade in the last 1000 years.

So it’s little surprise that Spikes Asia chose to hold their judging for the creative and strategy awards there … which meant I got to see some phenomenal work, some great friends and some awesome tourist stuff.

Oh, and my eye generally held up [but unfortunately not totally, hence trips back to the hospital and meds for a bit longer] but all in all it was a really fucking great week.

But I know there’s nothing worse than hearing someone talk about how great things were for them when you were stuck in the office dealing with shit so to try and win back some errrrrm, favour, let me tell you a little story.

One day – hopefully a long time in the future – my son, Otis, will go to a lawyer to hear the reading of his old mans ‘last will and testament’.

Hopefully, when he hears there’s not much left, he will find this post featuring the latest photograph someone has sent me linked to something I did to/for them a few years back [and let’s be honest, there are a TON of them] thinks, “my Dad was a mischievous sod”, rather than – as I fear – “my Dad went broke buying stupid shit to embarrass/take-the-piss out of people he loved”.

Mind you, given I love every fibre of that kid, its safe to say he will have a lot of stuff to remember me by.

Even if it might be [read: probably is] stuff he’d rather forget.

Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers.

Thank you for giving me a smile Donn … given I bought you that jumper back in 2018, it would suggest 2 things.

1. It may offer me the best ROI of anything I’ve ever bought in my life.

2. You should stay well away from Harper’s softball buddies Dad and his weird internet browsing habits.

Always looking out for you Donn. You special bloody human.

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55 Years Of Being Present, Despite Being Dead For 9,497 Days …

So today is the 26th year of Dad dying.

Given I’ve written this blog for almost 2 decades, you’d think I’d have said all that needed to be said about him – and in some ways, you’d be right – however, despite the fact that next year he’ll have been gone for over half my life [so far], he is arguably more a part of my day-to-day reality than ever.

I talk about him.
I think about him.
I reference his learnings and lessons in how I live my life and do my job.

He’d probably love that I do this, though I can’t help but feel he’d also ask “why?”.

Of course, part of it is because I love him and miss him – but more than that, the older I get, the more I appreciate how great he was.

As I’ve written before, my Mum and Dad blessed me with an epic childhood.

A life overflowing with the full force of their total love and support, even when I tested it to varying degrees and extremes.

They were compassionate, considerate and continually encouraged me to find and follow my own path … even when it went against what they wished I’d do.

And most of all, they ensured they sheltered me from many of the challenges and hardships we faced over the years, so that I could forge my life rather than be held back by theirs.

In terms of unconditional love, they were the posterchild for it.

But please don’t think they were walkovers …

While they were willing to let me explore, they wanted to ensure I’d really considered what I was doing or wanting to do.

Not so they could talk me out of it, but so they could understand it. Have a deeper appreciation of what was driving me so they could both encourage it and make sure my eyes were open to the realities of it.

It’s why they encouraged me to be a studio musician when they would have loved me to go into law. It’s why they pushed me to continue with my move to Australia when Dad had his stroke before I left. It’s why they taught me the importance of fulfilment when most parents were fixated on achievement. It’s why they let me follow Queen around Europe when I was 15 when most parents demanded their kids stay at home.

Incredible, eh?

But the thing is, I didn’t know that at the time.

If truth be told, there were times where I thought my parents were holding me back … cramping my style … oppressing my dreams.

And while I worked out I was being a bit of a fuckwit, I didn’t really realise how much of one I was being until I heard about other people’s parents and when I became one myself.

Because on top of all the advice and support they gave me, the big thing was they were always present.

In my life and by my side.

Be it for homework, parent/teacher evenings, birthday parties or just bad days … they were there. Standing in my corner … supporting me … encouraging me and being interested in me and my life.

What a fucking gift …

And yet, because it was part of my normality, I took it for granted … never realizing the effort and sacrifice it took for them to make sure they were always there.

And they made some major sacrifices.

Not just in terms of time … but also in terms of their choices, career, money and opportunity.

And I was immune to much of it because they didn’t want me to know – either because they knew I’d try and talk them out of it or because they feared it would add pressure on me to justify whatever I was doing instead.

Do I understand their reasons for doing that?

Yeah … I do.

But what I understand even more is how hard it must have been to keep doing it … and I say this as a Dad who loves his son but has still moved him to 4 radically different countries [so far] in just 10 years.

[And don’t get me started on how many times I’ve made my wife move]

Which hopefully all goes to help explain why my Dad plays so much in my present … more and more, I realise how fortunate I was.

How fortunate I am.

He – like Mum – created the space and time for me to fill on my terms, rather than expect me to fit in with whatever they had available.

They enabled me to be part of their life rather than an accessory to it.

Believing their role was to teach me how to make the best decisions for my life rather than telling me what to do.

That forging my own path would be the ultimate demonstration that they did good.

So, it’s a shame that for all their generosity, it’s kinda-backfired.

Because so much of what I’ve done and do is driven by my desire to make them metaphorically proud.

To let them know I didn’t take their lessons and sacrifices for granted.

It’s one of the reasons I have kept living around the world, because I feel it would be disrespectful to ‘go back’ when they sacrificed so much to let me go. It’s also why I keep running towards the exciting and unknown … because for me, it’s a way to demonstrate I value a life of fulfillment over a life of easy contentment.

Whether they would think agree with what I’ve done is anyone’s guess.

There would definitely be some stuff they’d be shaking their head at, but I hope overall, they’d be proud.

I hope overall they’d smile and see I’m trying to make as much out of what I’ve got.

It’s my way of honoring them.

Of ensuring that while they’ve gone – their impact is still here.

With me. With love.


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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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