Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Art, Jill, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis
It’s been a relatively ‘heavy’ week of posts this week, so I thought I’d end it on a ‘friday high’. Or something.
While I was sunning myself in the South of France, my family were dealing with the winter of Auckland.
Truth be told, winter here is not really that bad.
Sure it’s colder … but it’s not freezing.
To be honest, the worst thing is the rain and it’s not even been doing that, that much.
Rain in NZ is an epic thing.
A monsoon meets the most powerful shower you’ve ever seen. In fact, when I moved here, I went to see someones house – which was all glass – and when I said, “it must be a bugger to clean those windows”, they replied:
“No, we just wait till it rains”.
I thought they were joking, until I found out they weren’t.
But I digress.
Anyway, so one morning I got a text from Jill saying Otis had left a message on my car.
It was this:
And while I could claim it was him showing his future ‘Banksy’ credentials or – like the Nottingham Evening Post once tried to claim – suggest they were his expression of ‘cherries’ – we all know what it is and I have to say, it made me laugh.
Not as much as it made him, but close.
Sure, some of that was because I missed him. But mostly it was because I knew how much he would have giggled doing it. A moment of cheekiness to his Dad in front of his Mum.
And for me, that’s a sign he feels safe in life.
That he’s in a loving, supportive family.
But most of all, that he’s a classic 10 year old kid.
Which given all he’s had to deal with, manage and endure over the past few years – always with good grace and optimism – is something to feel very happy about.
So thank you Otis, I love it. Just don’t ever do it with paint please.
Happy weekend.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Awards, Birthday, Bonnie, Cannes, Cliches, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Jill, Otis, Paul, Paula, WARC
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.
I’m turning 55 this year.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
How the hell did that happen?
The good news is that while I may look it, I don’t act it.
I’m not saying that, I was told it.
By managers of Rock Stars who said, ‘I was immune from maturity’.
And while they probably meant it as an insult, I took it as a compliment. I’m sad like that.
But the reality is, regardless how stupid or annoying I can be – or as young as I sometimes really think I am – I’m still closer to getting a bus pass than I am getting inside a tour bus which may explain why I often look at people and can’t believe how young they are.
Pilots.
Doctors.
Footballers.
Police Officers.
Hell, not that long ago I got on a plane that I swear was being flown by a child.
Seriously, they looked like they weren’t even old enough to fold a paper plane, let alone fly a massive real one.
Which is why recently – while reading about Nottingham Forest in the Evening Post – I saw an ad that has made me question whether it is more evidence I’m an old bastard or actually just another example of marketing bullshit.
It was this.
No, I don’t mean the funeral insurance – which was depressing enough – but the ad next to it.
The one that features an attractive woman who apparently is a ‘single senior’.
Now maybe my eye’s deceive me. Or maybe the woman in this ad is the recipient of South Korea’s finest plastic surgery. But how the fuck is she classified as a senior???
OK, it’s marketing and their track record of shaming women knows no bounds … but come on, when the hell did ‘senior’ become anyone over 30?
Sure, for a 15 year old, 30 is ancient-as-fuck.
And yes, the health industry labels anyone becoming a parent over 35 as ‘geriatric’.
Then there’s Chanel, who classify anything over 40 years of age as ‘vintage’.
But all those examples come from people and industries known for being fucking lunatics.
Whereas I – on the other hand – am not one.
Not really.
Which is why I can categorically state the woman in that photo is absolutely-not a ‘senior’.
Or I hope she isn’t.
Because if that was the case, not only would it mean I’m pre-historic, it would make me think the real reason Otis lives at home is not because he’s a 10 year old little boy, but because he’s actually an adult taking care of his decrepit old man in the last days of life.
Jesus, as Monday’s go, this one has gone especially dark.
So thank you Nottingham Evening Post. Asshole.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Ambition, America, Amsterdam, Asia, Attitude & Aptitude, Auckland, Australia, Bands, Billionaire, Birkenhead, Bonnie, Campaign Magazine, Canada, Career, China, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Context, Corporate Evil, Creativity, Culture, Dog, Dream Small, Easter, Empathy, England, Experience, Family, Fashion, Fatherhood, Hong Kong, Japan, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Management, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Michael Jordan, Miley, Mr Ji, Mum, Mum & Dad, Music, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nike, Otis, Paul, Paula, R/GA, Relationships, Rockstar Games, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Sunshine, Sydney, The Kennedys, The Kennedys Shanghai, UK, Virgin Atlantic, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
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.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Bird, Bonnie, Cats, Comment, Family, Happiness, Home, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Childhood, Otis, Rosie, Sky
I’m back.
But I barely survived.
Part of that is because my trip was full-on.
The other part is having a puppy is even more full-on.
Seriously, it’s like having a baby all over again. Fortunately, we loved that period of our life so it’s not too bad … but bloody hell, it’s also pretty demanding.
A few months ago, I wrote about how people in agencies should be taught ‘the art of conflict management‘ … but now I think the other skill we should all be taught is puppy training.
If that doesn’t teach you how to be patient and calm when facing a barrage of noise and needs, nothing will.
That, or go work in China, hahaha.
That said, it is lovely having a pet in the house again. As I wrote before, while Rosie was a small cat, she filled the house with her presence and personality – and while we still have had Otis’, Sky, over these months, it hasn’t been quite the same.
But now, with Bonnie, the house has a new energy in it.
Sure, it’s slightly manic and lacking any degree of peace … but that’s a small price to pay to have life bubbling again. No wonder my Mum loved it when I came home to visit her. Not just because she was very happy to see me, but because my friends would come around and suddenly the place was a bustle of noise and laughter … a rewind to what daily life was like when Dad and I were around.
I get it. I just wish I could tell her that I do.
What’s interesting is we didn’t meet our dog until we picked her up … so we were totally reliant on the breeder being smart with her recommendation. Not because we were being picky about its looks … but because in addition to being a family pet, she has to be a trained support dog for Otis, hence temperament is key.
Thanks to the training she’s received from the breeder – and us – so far, it’s been good, but like Rosie it will definitely take some time until we find our own unique rhythm.
Finding the rhythm is a magical thing.
Some of it comes from ritual. Some from the environment. But most of it comes from the interactions you have and keep having together.
But when you find it, it’s special because it evolves into a sort-of invisible bridge where you can come together in the middle … with the knowledge to understand the unsaid. To interpret different sounds and signs.
It’s why that quote at the top of the page made such an impact on me when I read it.
A reminder that one of the most powerful ways to know how much someone has impacted you, is to look for those traits in others. Not so they become who someone was, but because they show you the best you can be.
So welcome Bonnie. Thank you for what you’ve given us already.