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


It’s Not Your Fault Your Perspective Is Small. It Is Your Fault You Do Nothing About It …

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.

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Why Leading A Department Is Part-Time Guard Dog, Part Cat Time Litter Tray …

I hope I’m a decent leader.

While I know there will be some people I’ve worked with, who definitely won’t hold that view … I hope the majority do.

Because – believe it or not – I try hard to be.

Sure, I make some mistakes.
And I can definitely be a pain in the ass.
But I am committed and invested in being the best boss I can be.

I consider myself fortunate because over the years, I’ve had incredible ‘teachers’.

From my parents to mentors to some old bosses … and of course, a few who were so shite, they taught me what not to do, haha.

And while there are many things I believe, adopt and hold dear, one of the most important is: always back your team in public and resolve disputes in private.

It sounds obvious … and it is … but it’s not always followed.

I’ve heard some shocking examples on Corporate Gaslighting … stuff that doesn’t just sound vicious, but the act of megalomaniacs.

But in terms of backing the team, there were few better than football manager legends, Brian Clough and Sir Alex Ferguson.

Yes, I accept they may have had some usual ways of doing this – and demonstrating this – but players knew that unless something exceptionally terrible had happened, their managers would always back them should they face public or managerial scrutiny.

Of course, there was a cost for this …

A cost that was simple but exhaustive.

And it was that the gift of being backed was reciprocated with dedication, focus and effort.

And that – to me – is key.

It’s OK to make mistakes.
It’s alright to sometimes mess things up.
But it can’t be because you were lazy or distracted.

I’ve said it many times, but I believe my job is to ensure that when someone in my team leaves, as they all will at some point, they go because they have a better job than they ever could have imagined.

Chosen for who they are, not just what they do.
Known for what they’ve created, not how well they’re known.
Chased for what they’ve changed, not what they maintained.

OK, there are some exceptions to that – mainly personal reasons, like love or a chance to chase something they’ve always wanted – but I believe I have a responsibility to them to help develop their natural talent, find and release their distinct strategic voice and move things out the way so they can create the most interesting shit of their lives.

It’s why my absolute worst scenario is someone leaving for a sideways move.

Oh my god, I would honestly feel I’d failed them.

And that’s why I place so much importance in backing them and showing my belief in them.

That doesn’t mean it’s blind faith.

We have very honest conversations a lot.

From gentle chats to bi-annual check-in/reviews … but they’re in private and focused on being through the lens of me wanting them to win.

Whether I achieve this is something only they can say. I hope most would agree with it [even those when we’ve parted ways] but if not, then I can assure them I’m working harder to be better.

The reason I say all this is because I saw something recently that I thought was a perfect example of backing the team.

It’s from the British Police.

Now they are getting a lot of stick at the moment. A lot totally deserved.

But this time it’s not them trying to justify an indefensible act … it’s something that resonated with me, because of Otis’ dysgraphia.

It was this.

The British Police – or maybe it’s all Police these days – have a bad reputation.

It’s manifested in mistrust and a lack of people wanting to sign up.

And while I fully appreciate they have a tough job and want to get better [as we saw with West Midland’s Police hiring my mate, Kay, to be their ‘artist in residence’ to better understand and connect to youth culture] … it’s acts like this that are more likely to help the public see the human side of the force as well as the compassionate side.

Anyone who runs a team knows it can be a painful job.

Some days it can feel more like being a cat-litter tray.

But when they know you’ll back them, they’ll back you with their talent, focus and commitment.

Well done Carlisle Police … we need more backing of people with neuro-diversity. Because the more we back those who are different, the more they will show the difference they can make.

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Sometimes The Best Things In Life Are Hairy And Cranky …

So on Saturday, it will be our cat – Rosie’s – 16th birthday.

Sixteen. For a street cat from Singapore, that’s amazing.

What’s also amazing is that she’s still in pretty good nick.

Yes, you can tell she’s getting old.

She’s slower … less mobile and definitely sleeps more.

But by the same token she remains cranky, vocal and remains as demanding as ever.

And if another cat comes anywhere near our house, she goes full gangster mode … hissing, growling and acting like she’s ready to fight despite the fact she’s behind a glass door.

Like those TikTok videos that show men loving family dogs they didn’t originally want their family to have … I was in a similar situation.

I didn’t really want us to have a pet.

Not because I’m a bastard, but because Jill and I were living in Singapore and I didn’t know how long we’d be there and I just was worried about the hassle of bringing it with us.

But Jill had always had pets and I wanted her to be happy, so while she originally wanted a dog, we settled on getting a cat.

She threw herself into the search.

It wasn’t just about getting any cat, she had to feel a connection to it … so after visiting various pet shops with their over-priced, pure-bred snooty moggies, she came across a little street cat that had been found by a family and was wondering if anyone wanted to adopt.

Jill went to see it and it is here that street cat did the best move of their life.

As Jill lifted her up to her face, Rosie moved her head forward so their noses touched.

Despite the fact Rosie would not show such love and tenderness for about 6 years, that ensured the deal was done and we were now a cat family.

I still remember sitting in a cab outside the apartment as Jill went to pick her up.

I was a bit anxious and nervous and eventually the door opened and there she was, in her little cat bag, where we both wondered what the fuck we had in store for each other.

And while there have been some annoying, painful and scary moments … it’s been generally nothing but joy.

Put it simply, I bloody love that cat.

There’s things I’ve done for her that I wouldn’t do for anyone. Literally anyone.

What things? Well how about some of this …

In HK we paid someone to pat her so she didn’t feel lonely. I did a project for an airline on the condition they flew her in the crew quarters rather than the cargo hold. We built ‘penthouses’ for her to hang out in. I gave an entire presentation about what a client can learn from her and her ways. I even got my office painted with her – and some of my colleagues moggies. And that’s just the tip of the sad-cat-bastard iceberg.

That said, every year I worry this is the year … the one where we have to say goodbye.

And while I know that will happen eventually, she’s doing OK.

Yes she needs some blood pressure medication, but apart from that, she’s in pretty good nick.

That said, I remember when we were moving to NZ I was worried that would be it.

Despite having flown from Singapore to HK … HK to Shanghai … Shanghai to LA and LA to London … London to Auckland is a whole different beast.

But bizarrely it wasn’t just the distance that worried me, it was that there was a stopover in Singapore – and given she was originally from there, my nihilistic side told me it was written in the stars that if there was any place she would reach the end, it would be where she started, like some fucked-up circle of life. Which – to be fair to me – is kinda what happened when Otis was born and my wonderful Mum died a few months later. Which – given I knew she was ill – was something my nihilistic side had also started to feed into my head.

Except with Rosie, it thankfully didn’t happen. [Fuck you, nihilism brain]

Better yet, we knew it hadn’t happened at the time because we had paid for a service that ensured at every stage she was checked and photographed.

Hell, even when we ended up in MIQ in NZ – where we spent longer in quarantine than she did – we got bombarded with pics of her and she looked to be having the time of her life.

Jetlagged … but happy, thanks to brushes and treats that I had already got sent to the quarantine place before our arrival.

But if you think this proves how much she means to me, you’re only partially right.

You see, at her age – which is 80 in human years – my attitude is she’s earned the right to do whatever she wants to do.

Which is why I’ll get up at 3am if she decides she wants a treat at 3am.
Which is why I’ll give her my chair if she decides she wants to be under the aircon.
Which is why I’ll buy her an extortionately expensive outdoor beanbag because she loves sitting outside in summer.

If we were her servants before, we’re her slaves now and I’m OK with that.

NZ is good for her.
She has a lovely, comfortable peaceful life.
Lots of places to go hang out, a big deck to sit and watch the birds and loads of food and water. And treats.

And where in the past you always felt she was disappointed in you, now you feel her gratefulness.

A cuddle here. A lick there. Meows, headrubs and sleeping on your hip.

Hell, she’s even totally chill that Sky – Otis’ budgie – is in the house.

It’s a lovely feeling.
A family feeling.
And while we give her so much, she’s given us – and me – more.

Happy Birthday my dear Rosie. Keep proving the critics wrong and us on our toes.


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Filled By Friendship …

So I’m back.

Did you miss me?

Nope?! Don’t blame you to be honest.

But the past 10 days have been very special for me.

There was a couple of very hard moments, but being able to be there for it, was also special.

Another reminder that while I don’t have many mates, the ones I have are top drawer.

And our presentation appears to have gone down well.

I’m so happy about that … mainly because I got to do it with Paula and Martin and I adored it.

That was a very special feeling. Something I hope we can do a hell of a lot more of, very soon.

It was also so good to catch up with so many old faces I’d not seen in years.

While I actively stay in touch with people, I’m not the most social of humans … so seeing people in the flesh [so to speak] was pretty wonderful.

As I’ve said before, COVID was good to me.

I absolutely loved staying at home with my family and having breakfast, lunch and dinner with them every single day.

Of course, I appreciate we were very privileged in our situation … but that still doesn’t take away the specialness of the times.

At least for me.

But seeing all these people I knew … and hanging out with the people I love … acted a bit like a reset to me.

A reminder of how I feed off the energy of others. That it makes me feel better and happier and hungrier to do good stuff.

To be honest, that was one of the reasons I wanted to come to Colenso.

Yes, part of it was because they are one of the great creative agencies of the times.

And yes, it meant I could finally repay Jill for her generosity in following me around the World by bringing her closer to her Mum after all these years.

But another part was that the idea of being surrounded by a talented team was so enticing.

Put simply, I love it.

I love building a gang.

I love creating our own strategy identify on how we see the world and create for it.

You see after I got made redundant from R/GA, … I was fortunate to be given work that immediately made up the salary I had lost. Better yet, I could do that without having to leave the house as the clients funding me were mainly based in China and America.

I was, as they say, sorted.

But working on your own, is hard.

Even more so when you live in a village surrounded by nothing.

And even more so when you live in a village during COVID so you can’t meet anyone even if you wanted to.

Yes, I get compared to the issues many people face, it’s nothing – but it doesn’t mean it’s not real. At least for me.

Of course I could work on my own if I needed to. The reality is I’ve always done side projects through my career, so there’s been lots of times where I’ve done just that. But moments of working on your own is very different to always working on your own … so when Colenso reached out – knowing I’ve always loved them as I almost joined them in 2016 – the idea of being a member of something was immediately appealing.

Trouble was I loved the projects I was doing … working directly with music, gaming and fashion royalty.

Basically, doing stuff I’d never done before that was incredibly exciting, challenging and creative with people who were incredibly exciting, creative and demanding.

So being a greedy bastard/only child, I asked if they’d be open to me doing both.

And they said yes.

There are many reasons for their decision – from knowing there would never be a conflict with the day-to-day work Colenso do through to knowing the timezones I’d be working in, would require my time at night, not during the day – but I am eternally grateful to them for being so open-minded and encouraging, because right now, I feel I have the best of many worlds.

To be honest that’s been a rare feeling for me.

My life seems to have either been great personally or professionally but rarely both at the same time.

And right now, I’m having that.

This is all coming across like I’m a smug-bastard and that’s the last thing I wanted to do.

It was more a reminder that if you want to do something, you should ask rather than assume and being with people – whether friends, family or colleagues – is a special thing.

Yes, I appreciate that should be obvious, but it wasn’t for me … and this past few weeks, similar to the year before … has reminded me of that.

Of course it highlights what an idiot I must be, but I’ll take that for the lesson it’s just given me.

Which is why I both understand and am confused by those who actively don’t want to work in an office again.

I get it from a balanced life or health perspective – especially if you’re spending a lot of time and money on commuting – but I don’t from the benefits of people and connections.

Of course there are a million reasons that can influence this, but while technology does allow us to be close when we’re not … physical space enables happy accidents and incidental conversations to happen which aren’t just sometimes great for the work, but also the soul.

And mine is full for now.

So thanks to all who helped remind me – and refilled me – over the past couple of weeks.

Let’s see how long it lasts before the grumpiness comes back.

Though, sadly, the long posts are definitely going to remain.

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The Further You Are, The More You Care …

So let’s start with the good news …

This is my last post until the 26th June.

That’s over 2 weeks of peace and quiet!!!

You lucky people. [Though who knows if anyone reads this now comments have stopped]

The bad news is this post is going to be loooooooong. Proper long.

And possibly ‘jealousy inducing’ … or at least insult igniting, given the blagging I’ll be acknowledging.

But there are valid reasons behind it all. Honest.

First up is that I have a bunch of birthday’s to acknowledge …

First of all is mine, because on Monday, I turn 53.

FIFTY FUCKING THREE!

This means I am closer to 70 than 30 …

Normally that would be depressing as fuck, but I was recently given the best present ever when Metallica’s management said I was, “immune from maturity”.

Of course, I appreciate under normal circumstances this would be a big diss, however at my age – and when they represent genuine Rockstars – this may be the best compliment ever.

Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be because there’s not many more reasons to be happy.

But 3 days later, it’s my darling Jill’s birthday.

Whereas I get more immature with age, she gets more wonderful.

I wish that was simply my attempt at being a romantic husband … but she really is.

I would love to detail how, but as I’ve mentioned before – she hates the attention on her, especially on this blog – so just know it makes me very happy to see because she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and is more than I deserve.

Happy birthday my darling Jill, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day.

Now you may think I have suddenly become a soppy-sod – and I am OK with that – but you may feel a bit differently when I tell you that on the night of Jill’s birthday, where most people would be having a celebratory dinner – I will be waving goodbye to her, getting on a plane and flying to England because the next day it’s …

Paul’s birthday.

That’s right, for the first time since 2020, I’ll be spending Paul’s birthday with him and seeing him and Shelly for the first time in over a year.

I’m so, so happy I can do that. I’m also so excited to see them.

The older I get, the more I want to be closer to them – even though I appreciate how ironic it is to say that when I have chosen to live just about as far away from them as I possibly can.

Who knows what will happen in the future to change that [actually, I do, I just don’t know when] but I’m thrilled I’m going to get to spend Paul’s special day with him and hang out with him and Shelly for a few days.

That I get to be with 2 of my most special and treasured people on their birthday .. means that however hard 2023 is, it is going to be a great year for me.

Thank god for horrific timezone difference between NZ and UK.

Which all leads to the final journey of my blog silence …

And that is me leaving Nottingham to fly to Cannes to present on stage with 2 more special and treasured people – Paula Bloodworth and Martin Weigel.

Like Paul, the last time I saw them in person was a year ago, so to not just see them … but present with them … is an utter thrill.

I say that, but at the time of writing this post, we have only written 4 slides so unless we pull our finger out, it may be a case of being happy to see them but a total nightmare to present with them – hahaha.

And finally, as much as Cannes can drive me nuts, it gives me an opportunity to see a bunch of old friends from my past which will be bloody wonderful – especially as George and Lee will be there and so it can feel like I’ve let comments back on this blog, haha.

So there you have it.

That’s why I’m not writing any posts for a couple of weeks.

And while some of you will claim its a massive holiday, it’s actually me reconnecting to life.

That’s honestly how it feels.

I appreciate that sounds overly dramatic … after all, it’s not like I don’t talk to them all pretty much every week.

And obviously, in the case of Jill, I get to see here every single day.

I also appreciate the privilege of being able to fly over there to see the rest of them – not to mention I am the one who put myself in the position of being away from them.

But this is more than just being in their physical company – which will be special in itself – it’s about the undivided time.

No zoom time limits … or snatched moments before the next interruption … actual time.

Time to go on endless tangents.
Time to go down multiple rabbitholes.
Time to enjoy the pregnant pauses.
Time to talk shit … rather than maximise the time allocated. Or allowed.
Time to be cocooned away from the other stuff that likes to interrupt and dictate.

And while many may think they get this every day, I’m not so sure.

Yes, being physically close to people you care about does – in theory – make this easier to do.

But proximity doesn’t automatically equate to intimacy.

You have to want it. Demand it. Not be satisfied with a different version of it.

And most of the time that’s not the case …

We don’t even realise it’s happening because we get so caught up in the whirlwind of life.

Dealing with the pressures, demands, expectation and – for some – the self-importance of our own lives.

And that’s why there is something to be said about living away from those that matter.

I know … that sounds the opposite of what I’ve just written … but hang in there.

You see I used to think the benefit of living around the world was that you could discover and explore possibilities you never knew even existed … let alone were actually possible.

And it’s true.

I’m not exaggerating when I say everything I have in my life – outside of Paul and Shelley – is because I chose to explore the world rather than stay in Nottingham,.

Every. Single. Thing.

That doesn’t mean people who stay where they are from can’t also discover new possibilities, but it’s definitely going to be harder which is why I will be forever grateful for the opportunity – and my naivety – to go and explore what life was made of, despite not having the faintest idea of what I was doing.

It’s why I always tell people who have been offered the chance to live overseas that they shouldn’t let the things they’ll miss, hold them back … instead, they should think about all the things they may discover.

And I still stand by that.

But of course, missing the people you love is a big thing.

A huge thing.

I definitely missed my parents every single day and I went through a lot of emotional challenges on that journey.

But I was also extremely lucky my parents wanted me to explore.

Of course they missed me.
Of course they would have loved me to be closer.
But they wanted me to forge my own life, not be restrained by theirs, which is an act of love that still takes my breath away.

Even more so when they could have – and maybe should have – asked me to stay, given my Dad’s health situation that happened 6 weeks before I was due to leave for Australia.

I offered.
I meant it.
But they said no … and I swear it’s because they knew if I didn’t go then, I may never go at all.

That’s just so typical of my parents … always wanting the best for me while also understanding the reality of me.

And while part of this was them having faith in the values they’d taught me – for example, chase a life of fulfillment, not contentment – I think another part is they realised something I’ve only just started to discover.

Distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes your relationships more present.

Greater focus, awareness and understanding on what makes you work together. The confidence to dismiss the differences that stand in the way of your connection. The willingness to be vulnerable – not just to enable greater intimacy – but to acknowledge their desire to want to help you, even if you feel they shouldn’t need to. And an openness to the uncomfortable in the knowledge, you’re not being judged … you’re reaching out.

I appreciate this all sounds like a post-rationalisation for being away from the ones I love and care about.

And maybe a bit is.

But as I’ve said before, creating space so the people who matter get the best of me rather than what is left of me is important.

It’s not easy.
It comes with challenges and sacrifices.
But while proximity keeps you near, maybe – just maybe – distance helps close the gap.

See you in a couple of weeks.

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