Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, China, Colenso, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Cunning, Cynic, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Deutsch, Embarrassing Moments, Emotion, England, Family, Grand announcements, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Marketing, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis, Paul, Planners, Planners Making A Complete Tit Of Themselves And Bless, R/GA, Relationships, Stubborness, Sunshine, The Kennedys, Uncorporated, Wieden+Kennedy
I’ve written this blog consistently for 15 years.
FIFTEEN!!!
My god …
But it gets worse.
Because bar a few weeks of holiday, it is something that has been written every single Monday to Friday.
That means there has been over 3,900 posts of utter gibberish for over 780 weeks.
And as tragic as that all sounds, there’s an awful lot of people who comment on here who have been here pretty much all that time.
LOSERS!!!
Now, I have to say there are some lovely benefits to long term blog writing.
In some ways it’s like a diary … capturing what I was thinking or doing at any given time.
It also is a lovely way to see how my opinions and thoughts have evolved over time.
Plus there’s the hope that when I’m gone, Otis will still feel his Dad is close.
OK … OK … there are some posts I definitely DON’T want him to read, but there’s others I’d be glad for him to keep going back to.
Putting aside I basically write the same 3 or 4 posts over and over again … there is a lot of my life contained in these pages.
From getting married to losing my Mum to having my son.
Proper life-changing stuff … and that doesn’t even cover the moves to different countries, jobs and homes.
The best and worst of my life is detailed here which is why – despite all these big life events being sandwiched between endless amounts of shit – I still like it.
Occasionally I randomly click on a date and just see what I wrote.
Recently I did this and was reminded what a little shit I was.
OK, can be.
It’s this.
Yep, it’s the time I tried to auction off Martin Sorrell’s business card so people could send him stupid messages or texts.
On the plus side, I was offering to give any money to charity.
On the negative, I was working for WPP at the time.
If you think that’s stupid, there was the time I wrote a post featuring a photo of Sir Martin with a picture of Toad of Toad Hall under the caption ‘Spot The Difference’.
And the weird thing is that while I don’t agree with his approach to creativity, I do respect him. I have met him on a number of occasions and he was very, very impressive.
Though it’s fair to say that respect was only one way, Especially when there was an agency Q&A and I asked him ‘what do you spend all your money on?’
So Sir Martin … even though I know you would never read this blog [more proof you’re clever] I would like to take this opportunity to apologise for my stupidity. It was ridiculous … but if it’s any consolation, at least it wasn’t as bad as this.
I know … I know … this was a terrible post even by my standards.
So celebrate in the fact that tomorrow is Good Friday so I’m off till next Tuesday and you’re not going have to deal with any more of this shit till then.
I don’t know about you … but it’s the sort of news that makes you almost believe in God, doesn’t it.
Happy Easter, enjoy the sugar rush.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Content, Craft, Creativity, Culture, Digital, Effectiveness, Emotion, Empathy, Entertainment, Happiness, Honesty, Imagination, Inclusion, Innovation, Insight, Long Copy, Love, Marketing, New Zealand, Perspective, Purpose, Relevance, Research, Resonance, Sentimentality, Truth
As many of you know, I’m quite the emotional guy.
[OK, I get it … that’s an understatement. Let’s leave it there]
But while this can sometimes result in me having an ‘Elton John’ moment [™ Elton John] I have always been a huge believer in the value and importance of empathy.
Part of this is because my Mum always told me to be interested in what others are interested in, but as I got more and more into my planning career, I realised that if you can truly understand the feelings and emotions someone is experiencing, it enables you to make work that others will also feel and resonate with.
A perfect example was this work we did ages ago for Nike in China.
It had already been decided the idea for the global 2012 Olympics Campaign was going to be Greatness. The problem was that when we spoke to kids all over China, they didn’t feel they were ever able to refer to themselves as great.
They felt that was a term saved for the chosen few. The people who the government deemed as having done things that raised the entire nations profile and success.
Of course they didn’t articulate it like this … we got there by spending time with them and slowly pulling away the layers of codes and confusion so we could understand what they wanted to say rather than what was being said.
Or said another way, we wanted to understand rather than get answers.
Now I am not denying it took a while … and I also accept being an Olympic campaign, we had the time and the money to do things right. But the thing is this rigour was worth it … because not only did it turn into an incredible campaign … not only did it become China’s most successful ever campaign … it helped changed attitudes towards what greatness is and allowed millions of kids to feel they could feel valued and valuable.
This is the work.
The reason I say this is because for the past few months, I’ve been working with The University of Auckland’s Creative Thinking Project in exploring new ways to use creativity to engage and deeply resonate with audiences.
Thanks to the work of Sir Richard Faull, Faculty of Medical and Health Sciences at The University of Auckland and Nuala Gregory, a fellow of the National Institute of Creative Arts and Industries – also at The University of Auckland – we have explored and experimented with a whole host of different creative formats to identify which one can create the best conditions for connection.
The findings have been astounding.
While the vast majority of communication spend goes towards television, digital and outdoor advertising … none of these had the same impact on audiences as the power of the poem.
In fact, when poems were used as the content for television, digital and outdoor, the increase in engagement went up on average 13.3%.
THIRTEEN!
OK, I know that may not sound a lot on first impression, but when you consider last year, companies spent SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIVE BILLION DOLLARS GLOBALLY on advertising … if this can improve connection to potential audiences by 13%, then it has huge commercial opportunity.
[And by that, I mean for brands, creativity and the University of Auckland]
Now I suppose on one level, none of this should be a surprise.
Rap is a kind of poetry.
A way to communicate that’s felt as well as heard.
But while we have started to explore this, our focus has been on poetry and the results, as I detailed above, have been fascinating.
Sir Richard believes this may be heavily influenced by the challenges the World has faced over the past few years. Where the feeling of isolation of helplessness has created an yearning for any sort of emotional connection. And while TV may have their manifestos, they often come over as contrived … whereas poems have a fragility to them that enables them to better resonate and connect to audiences.
For example … of the literally thousands of poems tested, this was one that achieved one of the highest scores, despite being from an anonymous author.
Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like the world upon my shoulders
But through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder
While it is deliberately ambiguous, it appeared to connect to audiences as they saw it as capturing the struggles they felt in life. Where there is still an expectation for progress and yet the conditions people find themselves having to deal with are increasingly harsh and difficult.
Other poems that resonated – and follow a similar theme to the previous example, except it is by contemporary poet, Ocean Vuong – include this:
And when your fears subside
And shadows still remain
I know that you can love me
When there’s no one left to blame
So never mind the darkness
We can still find a way
As well as a piece from his work entitled ‘Life’, which has a much darker theme:
Loneliness is my hiding place
Breast feeding my self
What more can I say?
I have swallowed the bitter pill
We are still working on the research but have set up an instagram that lists the poems that have tested particularly well.
I would love it if you could visit the page and let me know how the poems affect you. If they do.
Now I appreciate this leaves me open to all sorts of ridicule.
And I assure you that I am not trying to suggest poems are the future of effective advertising.
This is simply a project to see if there are techniques that allow us to better connect emotionally to audiences without necessarily needing to spend months in the field meeting endless people.
While I am part of this work, it is ultimately the property of Auckland University.
Fortunately, they have said I can promote the work because they would love to have more respondents take part. So if you are interested in discovering more – and helping see where this creative adventure could lead, can I ask you to sign up here.
That said, I would recommend you do it today … because studies have found April 1st is the optimal day to get people to sign up to ‘research’ that is actually just some 80’s song lyrics from Foreigner, Guns n’ Roses and Queen.
Have a great day. I know I will.
Filed under: Childhood, Dad, Daddyhood, England, Family, Fatherhood, Happiness, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis
Today would have been my parents 58th wedding anniversary.
Amazing.
And while the reality is Dad died 23 years ago and Mum 7, they had a good marriage.
Yes there were some hard times along the way.
Some that still hurt deeply when I think of them.
As is often the case, they were brought on by stress triggered by a lack of money, health issues and/or family bullshit they were pulled into.
But while there are some moments that I wish could be erased forever, I was brought up in a house of love and support.
Love for each other.
Love for me.
Love for us.
As I said at both my parents funerals, I never wanted for their support or compassion and it was only as I grew older that I realised how lucky I am for that.
The photo above was taken at the Nottingham Registry Office where they got married.
They’d been living in London but came to Nottingham to be closer to my Dad’s family.
They were only supposed to be there for a few years – but you know how it is.
I always thought that must have been hard for my Mum.
Don’t get me wrong, she liked Nottingham … but she was Italian, had moved to London for adventure but met Dad, fell in love and then found herself in the Midlands, even further away from her family.
I think when I came along, it may have helped because she wouldn’t have wanted to raise me in central London and so Nottingham probably became quite a good place then.
She stayed there for a long time.
A lot longer than she had lived in Italy.
We had talked – prior to her death – if she wanted to move back to Italy.
It was a real consideration.
Dad had died. Long term neighbours had died or moved away. Her sister was alone in the family home back in Guardiagrele.
But it didn’t happen and now her ashes, like Dad’s, are scattered over their beloved garden. The garden that was my family home and always will be, despite eventually selling the house.
I’ve written about how hard that decision was.
How conflicted I was when it suddenly became mine.
But I think they would be happy how I handled it. Plus I have a beautiful jar of soil from that house with me. And by selling the incredibly generous gift of their inheritance, I was able to buy our family home in the UK. A home with a garden my parents would absolutely approve of.
I still remember the bizarre moment Mum and I went to register Dad’s death and we realised it was in the same place as where they got married.
It had a weird closed circle to it.
Similar to the fact Mum died in the same hospital where I was born.
I miss them. I regret that I didn’t really talk to them about these things.
Part of that was because I thought I’d have more time to do it but alas, Dad fell ill when I was just 24. And then I kept moving countries.
But I’m very glad they got married 58 years ago today.
Because they gave me a childhood and a family that was as special as they were.
Happy Anniversary Mum and Dad. I hope you’re holding hands and laughing at the silliness and joy your son and his family get up to.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Comment, Dad, Death, Family, Fatherhood, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis
A few weeks ago, I saw a tweet by the comedian, David Baddiel.
It was this.
It was late, but there was something about it that really touched me.
Of course, hearing a parent has died is always sad. And over the years, my stance on Mr Baddiel has gone from ‘annoying’ to ‘wonderful’. But I think it was the sight of the worn chair that got me. A reminder of a parent who preferred comfort over new. A father who saw the chair worn in rather than worn out. An extention of the parent rather than just another piece of furniture in the home.
I definitely related to that.
I still remember going into Mum’s bedroom after she died – the bedroom that my shared my entire childhood – and saw it was a bit worn out. Needed some care, some attention, some updating. But what’s interesting is that while I’d been in that room a million times, it was only then that I the condition. Because when my parents were in that room … in that bed … the whole room radiated love and life and all the worn paint and old carpet disappeared from view.
But I also know how important it is to hold on to some of that.
Getting rid of your parents belongings is devastating.
I definitely remember genuinely considering hiring a security guard to just sit outside the house so I could keep it exactly the way it was. Hell, I even tried to buy the home phone number from British Telecom, or whatever they’re called these days – so I would have a connection to my past … to my parents … forever.
Jill gently convinced me that wasn’t the best way to move forward. Reminded me that wouldn’t be what my parents would want. But she also knew I needed to keep a physical connection to them and that house … so she came up with a brilliant idea that I thought may help a man I don’t know, get through a terribly painful situation I do know all too well.
So I responded to him with this and went to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to my phone screen full of twitter notifications and saw this.
Thousands of likes.
Hundreds of comments.
A mass of retweets.
I couldn’t quite believe it.
And when I read the comments, every single one was positive.
No snark. No pisstaking. Just a mass of lovely, considerate, words. Which was more wonderful than I could ever have imagined, because as much as it’s nice to have something you said/did liked by so many, what made the biggest impact was so many people saying they now had a way to take their family and home with them, when their family and home are no longer there.
A bit of calm in the worst of storms.
And since I wrote this post, the number of people who liked it and commented on how this can help them deal with their grief has increased more and more.
So thank you Jill.
You helped not just make one of my hardest times, less dark, you have helped others see a way out of their darkest moment.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Age, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Culture, Insight, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad
A few weeks ago, I walked into our lounge to see Jill watching the very first edition of The Golden Girls. For those of you too young to know what it is, have a look at this ‘best bits’ compilation.
After a couple of minutes, Jill asked me to guess how old the main characters were supposed to be in the show.
Given the name of the program and the style of fashion they were wearing, I suggested in their early to late 60’s.
I was wrong.
Jill told me that the ages were 47,53 and 55.
Or said another way, I was older than one and just a few years behind the others.
Then she hit me with this …
The characters were supposed to be the same age as the women in the reboot of Sex And The City.
To help explain why this news impacted me, have a look at this.
Now we are talking about ‘character age’ not real age … plus the ‘backgrounds’ of each show are about as different as you can get … but still.
Then a few days later, this was posted featuring Dorothy from the Golden Girls and Lisa Rinna from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
Again, one is in character and the other is … OK, probably also in character … but the shift in age perception – or presentation of it – is startling.
On one hand there’s something awesome about it.
While I – and society – absolutely don’t want to see me sashaying down the street wearing designer clothes and botox lips … the idea that people in their 50’s don’t have to hide themselves away and can feel they are an active member and contributor to society is awesome.
However by the same token, the thought you may need to match the look and behaviour of people much younger than you, just so you can be ‘validated’ is terrifying.
Now of course women have been facing this situation for centuries, which is why the older I get, the more I realise what a brilliant role model I had in my Mum.
You see she always believed age didn’t defy you, your interest in what was happening in culture did.
It’s why she followed emerging artists in film, music, art, literature and politics.
It’s why she would go to a classical concert as well as watch new comedians.
It’s why she viewed ‘growing old gracefully’ as being interested in what others are interested in rather than extracting yourself from modern life because ‘it was easier that way’.
Now this didn’t mean she always like what she saw and learned – and she most certainly wasn’t going to dress in the latest trends and fashions – but she wanted to contribute to life rather than criticise it simply because it was continually evolving.
Which helps explain why I found the Golden Girls/Sex And The City comparison so amazing.
Because dramatic shift in terms of fashion and looks aside, the reality is ageing – especially for women – hasn’t really evolved at all.
Sure, you may not have to ‘hide yourself away’ as much as you used to, but looks are still the foundation of validity and fashion is still the criteria for relevance.
How utterly fucked is that?
For all the talk of modernity, the reality is not much has changed. In fact, it’s arguably even worse now as there is the illusion it’s actually better.
But it’s not.
White men are still born with inherent advantage.
As a 51 year old, badly dressed man, I still receive incredible benefits.
So don’t let the exposure of older, female actresses sway you from the reality.
Sexism and ageism is alive and well.
It’s something perpetuated by the media and championed by society the world over.
In simple terms, if you have to ‘look’ the part to be seen by others, something is fucked up.
And women have to do that more than men. Fact.
Growing old is enough of a pain in the arse without having to deal with that shit.
Which is why it would be so much better if we valued interest rather than image.
Another thing I need to thank my Mum for.