Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham
As I wrote a while back, we are looking to buy a family home.
Well the good news is we have found one – and while we don’t move into it till December – we’re already getting excited about it.
But as I also wrote, to help us buy it, I was going to sell the house I inherited when Mum died.
The house that was my home for my entire childhood and early twenties.
Well, it has been sold and while I know my Mum would be incredibly happy the proceeds have helped her beloved son buy a home for his family, it’s still quite an emotional wrench.
I absolutely think I’ve done the right thing.
The street I grew up on all those years has changed beyond recognition.
Neighbours have gone.
The college at the end of the street has been knocked down.
My connection to the area is no longer what it once was.
But despite that, it will always hold a special place in my heart … a place that represents ‘childhood’ … a place where it was just Mum, Dad and me and I will treasure that forever.
Anyway, one of the things we have been doing while the purchase goes through has been to visit the house.
Part of this is my way of saying goodbye.
Part of this is to take some flowers so we can plant them in our new place and have a bit of my history in my present.
Part of this is just to let Otis feel a connection to a place that was so important to his Dad and – for a period of 3 weeks in 2015 – was where he also lived.
And while just spending a few minutes there every odd weekend may seem very small, I cannot tell you how much it has helped me reclaim some connection to my roots.
The picture at the top of this page, is one of those connections.
Seeing Otis in the garden I used to play in was wonderful.
The garden my parents absolutely treasured and loved.
It brought back all sorts of memories … from hiding under those fern trees playing ‘hide and seek’ through to running through a small gap that existed between the garden and the street [right behind where Otis is standing] that meant I could have a quick getaway when playing British bulldog or simply wanting to get to the ice cream van before anyone else.
That home will always be special to me.
That garden will always remind me of my parents.
The memories created in that house will always be previous.
And while I will soon say goodbye to it [though I have had it written into the contract I can visit it once every 5 years] I will forever be grateful for all it gave me … from a childhood home filled with happiness and love, through to giving me the chance to buy a house where my family can create the sort of memories that will be as precious to Otis as Nottingham was to me.
Thank you Mum and Dad, you keep on taking care of me.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Communication Strategy, Crap Campaigns In History, Family, Health, Marketing, Marketing Fail
A brand name can make a huge difference to the success of a brand.
Don’t get me wrong, the product has to be good or none of it matters – but the brand name does have an impact on performance.
Maybe this is why I have seen so many companies talk about their ‘naming strategy’ process … even though most of them then come back and say their first stage of the process has resulted in 10,000+ names.
TEN THOUSAND!!!
What sort of strategy – a process designed to ultimately create sacrifice – delivers 10,000 options?
But I digress.
While names can evoke all manner of feelings and emotions, there is a whole host that shows the imagination of a dead badger.
I wrote about how Singapore in particular is good/bad with their ‘say what you see’ approach to naming brands, products and stores … but there is a type of brand name that drives me even more crazy than the obviousness favoured in Asia and it’s the crash-together name.
Crash Together?
Yeah … where a brand takes 2 separate words roughly associated with the category and smashes them together.
There’s a bunch of these, such as Playtex, but I saw one recently that was bottom-of-the-barrel scraping …
Pregnacare.
PREGNACARE!!!
Christ, is that really the best they could do?
I get being pregnant is both wonderful and fearful, but Pregnacare is the most clinical name you could get.
It captures none of the wonderful and just hints of the fearful.
Plus it doesn’t – in any way – explain what it actually is, which given they’ve decided to go all mechanical in name choice, seems a rather ridiciulous situation.
I get naming is hard.
I get naming isn’t the be-all and end-all of a brands success.
But if you want to be seen as some sort of friend to anyone who is pregnant – which, judging by the photo, Pregnacare do – then you might want to choose 2 words that when smashed together, don’t sound like a visit to an upmarket gynecologist.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand Suicide, Comment, Corporate Evil, Culture, Empathy, Family, Happiness, Love, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail, Minimum Wage
So a few weeks ago, in a Starbucks in Epping, I saw this man …
For those who don’t know who he is, it’s music icon Rod Stewart.
I appreciate his best days as a singer are over but the fact he’s 74, still has hit albums and sold out concerts and looks pretty much like he did 40 years ago, means he can look back on his life as pretty bloody successful.
There’s lots of stories about Mr Stewart.
His love life.
His happy feud/rivalry with Elton John.
His tightness.
But what isn’t talked about much is his love of his family.
I saw it when he walked into Starbucks.
In came his wife and a bunch of his kids – young and old – and they all sat together, chatting … laughing and sharing coffee and croissants.
I know this is something we see everyday, all around the World, but there was something lovely in seeing an international Rock Star act like the doting father and husband he obviously is.
I’m not denying he has made some pretty shit mistakes in the past … but without wishing to defend that … sometimes good people make bad mistakes and whatever happened in the past, at least he seems to remember what is truly important.
Nothing says this more than an interview he gave this year …
I don’t know about you, but I think this is wonderful.
It’s also weird his brothers and sisters are NINETY YEARS OLD.
But what I love most is that it is apparent for all his wealth, he feels his family is what truly makes him rich.
Even his ex-wife, Rachel Hunter, doesn’t really have a bad word to say about him.
Their divorce wasn’t because of infidelity, it was because she was young and after 13 years of him being a doting husband, she felt she wanted to go out and live more.
And even then, she – and he – made sure everything was both amicable and respectful.
The reason I’m saying this is because work/life balance is under greater pressure than ever.
Sure companies are talking about it more than ever before, but in the main, what they really mean is ‘it’s important to have a home life but make sure you do your work first’.
I also accept, it’s much easier to have work/life balance when you’re a multi, multi millionaire because when Mr Stewart was starting out, he was so in debt, his manager and record company pushed him to go out on tour so he missed a lot of his oldest kids early years.
But here’s the thing.
If we all appreciate that work/life balance is important [even if that is simply because it makes you more effective at work] and mental health has become an issue that has been accepted as a real issue, how come this isn’t included in any procurement demands from clients or agencies?
Maybe it is, but I haven’t heard about any.
I have heard of contracts that demand female representation.
And I have heard of contracts that demand people of color inclusion.
But nothing on mental health or work/life balance.
Don’t get me wrong, I am happy that issues of gender and background are being forced into contracts [but I’m so sad this is what it took to have it happen] but what about making sure these people are looked after once they are there?
Why isn’t that part of the deal?
Why is that not a key criteria of what we are all talking about?
Why is that something shareholders don’t demand of the companies they invest in?
I think we can all guess, but if you’re still not sure, head over to Corporate Gaslighting and read what some people have discovered are some of the reasons why.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Content, Context, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Parents
When Mum died, I inherited the family home.
Despite having not lived there for 20 years, it was still very important place to me.
Not just because Mum left it to me.
Not because my Mum still lived there.
But because it’s where I lived for all of my life – until I moved to Australia – and so the memories in those 4 walls were full of everything important to me from my first 25 years of life.
I have to be honest, the first reaction I had was to hire a security guard and keep things exactly as they were because the thought of selling it was just not going to happen.
Slowly I came round to the idea that a security guard was a bit extreme so I started – slowly – thinking about renting it out.
The thing was, when we had estate agents come check it out, they highlighted that having not been renovated for over 40 years, it needed some major work.
This was really hard for me because by saying it needed renovating, I heard it as ‘the house is not good enough’ … which I then interpreted as ‘the house my Mum loved and lived in, wasn’t good enough for others’.
Of course that’s not what they meant, but my emotions – and need to protect my Mum’s legacy – were very high at that point..
And if that was challenging for me, it got even harder when it got to clearing the house.
We spent a couple of weeks going through photos and possessions so we could identify everything we wanted to give to charity.
While Mum didn’t have expensive things, there were some lovely items which is why the worst thing – almost as bad as losing my Mum – was when I saw the charity people come by with bins and throw everything into them … no care, no consideration, no nothing.
And when I heard them literally smash my Mum and Dad’s wardrobes to smithereens – the things that had held their cliothes for 40 years – I had to leave the house as it was all too much.
But out of this darkness came an idea … an idea that I felt would honour my Mum in terms of the life she lived and the values she believed in.
We found a fantastic set of builders and had the house refurbished from top to bottom.
Removed all the wallpaper.
Plastering all the walls.
New paint everywhere.
New Kitchen.
New Bathroom.
New flooring.
New carpets.
New front door.
Some structural change in the house.
At the end, it was basically a new house and yet with the warmth and love of the old, as exemplified by this note that I wrote in the garage …
But that was only part of paying homage to Mum…
The next step was to find a young family who would love to live there, but couldn’t afford it.
You see our plan was to subsidize the rent – and maintain the gardens my parents loved so much – so a young family would have a chance to raise their kids in the beautiful environment my family gave me.
Of course, when my family bought the house – back in 1970 – the area was very different to what it is today, but zoom forward 40 years and it’s seen as very desirable. Not because it’s posh, but because it’s safe, has a strong community and great schools for all.
To this day, I’m so grateful my Mum and Dad were able to find £100 more than the other buyer or who knows where I would have ended up.
Anyway, by pure chance, we found a family who were sort-of connected to someone Mum once worked with. That was perfect, as it felt even more connected to her.
But what was even better was the mother of this family was Italian, like my Mum.
For the past 4 years we have had this arrangement and everyone has been happy.
But now it is time for a bit of a change.
Not because I want to become a bastard landlord, but because I’m now living in the UK and things are different.
You see part of the reason I wanted to keep the house – apart from the obvious – was that it gave me roots here. It meant I was still connected to where I grew up. That I mattered.
It’s kind-of similar to why we bought a bench for Otis at his school in LA.
Having spent the last 24 years out of England, the house represented a connection to my heritage and that was important.
But now I’m back … and while I don’t know how long for, I see it in terms of long-term rather than short.
On the day before Mum died, she told me she was sorry she wasn’t going to be able to leave me much.
I told her not to think like that and reminded her the love she and Dad gave me made me rich beyond my dreams.
But on top of that, I reminded her she was generously going to leave me her house … a house in a wonderful area … so she could relax knowing she had given her son more than he could ever have imagined.
And that’s why I am ready to let the house go.
Not – as you may think – because I am ready to move forward.
The truth is, I will always miss her and want her in my life.
The reason is because I see a way to use the house to reinforce the role my parents had – and have – in my life.
You see the one thing my parents would have loved to do is help me have a home of my own.
While I have been incredibly fortunate to do this without their assistance, I know that their dream would have been to contribute to that.
Of course they did with the love and support they gave me in life, but to them, providing some cash to do it would have made them feel so happy.
So that’s what they are going to do.
While we are happy in London, the truth is my wife and son need to be surrounded by nature.
Nothing reinforced this than our trip to the farm recently.
So we want to find a home a bit outside of London.
A home Otis can truly settle in.
A home that is our home.
Of course we don’t want to unsettle the tenants and will do all I can to help them – as well as give them as much time as they need to work out what’s next – but selling the house allows us to use that money to help my parents fulfill their dream.
We are incredibly fortunate to be in this position.
We are incredibly grateful to be in this position.
But the idea to have a place that is – for want of a better phrase – our forever home, is hugely enticing.
It will let us put down roots.
Connect to the community in ways we have never done previously.
Build rather than live.
This might sound dramatic and I am not saying we have had it tough in any of the other places we’ve lived or houses we’ve had … but we have also never been in a place where we saw ourselves for the long-term.
Because of that, we have always been looking to what’s next rather than maybe enjoying the moment as much as we could or should.
Of course this isn’t going to happen overnight, but to come to this point of decision represents a landmark for my family and for my grief which is why I am so happy to be home and so happy to look forwards with more security, regardless what the future may bring.
Given my birthday is tomorrow, that’s possibly the best present anyone could have.
Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Culture, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Jill, LaLaLand, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
I recently was in LA for work.
Being a sentimental sod, I couldn’t help find the time to go visit some of the places that became so important to me – and us – when we lived there.
Hell, I even went to the house of the man who bought my car just so I could see it again.
But of all the places I’ve revisited in LA, visiting Otis’ preschool is the one that made me the most emotional.
This is a place he loved.
Where he met his beloved Elodie.
Where his Mum connected to people who will be life long friends.
Where they were both made to feel they mattered from the second they arrived.
Leaving LA was hard. Not for professional reasons, but for personal.
Yes I was sad to leave people I’d met who had grown to become very important to me, but hardest was taking my wife and son away from a place they had thrived in.
Even though we were only there for approx 18 months, we wanted Otis to always know there was a time this was his home … that leaving didn’t mean he’d disappeared. So we wanted to do a few things for the school of which one of them was ask if we could donate a park bench in Otis’ name, so generations of future kids could play on it and – in some way – get to know the little boy who loved that place so much over 2017/18.
By pure chance, when I was driving past the school – it was a Saturday – I saw they had an event on, so being a cheeky sod, I went in hoping they’d let me see the bench we made.
They welcomed me with absolute open arms and as they let me see the seat we left for Otis, I realized – for the first time – that I’d also left a bit of myself here as well.