As I mentioned at the time, my Easter holiday was rubbish.
I got a virus the day before Good Friday and basically was ill – in bed – for the entire holiday.
To pass the time between falling asleep, I watched endless TikTok’s and Reel’s.
In-between the wannabe’s and impressive, there were more than a few that triggered a lot of emotions in me.
Posts that talked about memories and loss …. whether of friends, family or pets.
I’d love to say that I cried a lot because I was feeling sorry for myself, and while that is true – there was a lot more going on.
Despite being 52.
Despite my parents being gone for 8 years and 24 years respectively.
Despite having an utterly wonderful family and professional life.
I’m a bit of a mess.
There’s a whole host of reasons – part of it simply being a sentimental emotional bastard [as Andy used to say] but there was one clip that dug deep.
It was a kid on the streets of London who was asked what was one of the saddest times of their life.
They talked about the loss of their Dad and then they mentioned how amazing their Mum had been, because even though she had to deal with the loss of the person she loved most, she had to also ensure their son didn’t fall too far.
And while I’ve always recognised and realised that, something in their comment hit me hard.
There have been far too many occasions where I’ve been stuck in my own pig-headed selfish world. Thinking about the impact of things on me, not really considering the impact on those around me. And while most people have let me get away with this – knowing I’m going through a hard time – it still upsets me I can get so lost in my own shit.
That’s not how I was brought up. That’s not how I used to be.
So with that I want to say thank you to Mum.
Thank you for your love and support.
Thank you for sacrificing your pain to help me get through mine.
Thank you for always being there with your gentle encouragement.
Thank you for your strength when everything was falling apart.
Thank you for your love, support, patience and protection.
I am so sorry I took more from you than I gave.
I am so sorry I chose to be ignorant to the truth for so long.
Believing you were being negative about Dad’s situation when you were caring for him 24/7 and I was visiting from Australia.
I appreciate now how much additional worry I must have caused you, wondering how I’d cope with his health reality, when I chose to finally let it in.
When I would be forced to let it in.
I wish I had not been so blinkered and blind and lost in my own distress.
I wish I had been stronger so you could fall, rather than always pick me up.
I wish you had not lost the man you loved so much so early.
I am so grateful for all you did for me. And continue to do for me.
Thank you for being the best Mum I could ever have.
Love you Mum.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Brand Suicide, Business, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Effectiveness, Management, Marketing, Marketing Fail
A few weeks ago, I saw this …
… and I have to be honest, it’s had me thinking a lot.
Because while I acknowledge you can’t take things for granted, when you get lost in the weeds, you lose sight of what you’re working towards and how you do it.
And a lot of people are doing both of those things.
Nothing sums this up more to me than the issue of attribution.
The quest to minimise risk – or ‘optimise value’ – has resulted in brands forgetting that the easiest way to get attribution is to do something interesting.
But instead – reinforced by industry ‘guru’s – we have ended up with a continual production line of commercially responsible alternatives.
Be a one colour brand.
Place brand assets higher than a brand idea.
And – worse of all – have watermarks in your ads.
While colour and brand assets have a role – albeit not a primary role as so many people seem to suggest – if you feel the only way your brand will be remembered in your commercial is to place your logo all the way through it, then you either don’t know how people work or how advertising does.
Or said another way, you’re admitting your brand and your product are forgettable.
Seriously … why would you do that?
Why would you spend millions on something that positions you as uninteresting.
Worse, why would you spend millions on something that positions you as uninteresting and make sure people know it’s you by ramming your logo down their throat?
But somewhere, someone is measuring the ‘impact’ of this approach and finding a way to demonstrate its effectiveness to clients. Letting everyone feel pleased with themselves. Their choices. Their actions. Creating a precedent others will follow in the blind belief they’re being smarter … more optimised … more effective than all their competitors. All the time consciously and deliberately ignoring the critical fact that it’s undermining them rather than liberating them.
Which leads back to that tweet at the top of the page.
Because while knowing how things are going is important, nothing reveals how lost you are than measuring everything but valuing nothing.
Filed under: America, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Food, New Zealand, Nottingham
I am – and have always been – a sentimental fool.
And I appreciate the last couple of weeks have seen me write a bunch of particularly sentimental posts …
Identity.
Belonging.
My childhood in Nottingham.
… and guess what, here’s another one, albeit a slightly more tragic one.
Chips.
No, not the stuff Americans and Kiwis think they are … I mean hot chips.
The stodgy magic you smother in ketchup, mushy peas and gravy.
God I love chips.
British chips.
Golden pillows of burning hot majesty.
Food that fills you up and warms you up.
When I was growing up, you could get chips on almost every corner.
20 pence for a bag of them or a tray of them.
It could be a reward … a celebration … or just a way to bond with your mates.
But it was only when I left the UK that I realised the magic ingredient of chips.
Vinegar.
Specifically malt vinegar.
Specifically Sarson’s malt vinegar.
Acidic drops of heaven … sour death on their own, addictive temptation on chips.
I am still in shock how few people outside the UK like vinegar on their chips. I am horrified at how many look at me with revulsion when I suggest it. But then I also look at these people with pity because they don’t know what they’re talking about and have absolutely zero taste.
Ask me what I’d want as a final meal and after a massive bowl of pasta [olive oil, salt, no sauce – sorry Mum] I’d say a tray of chip shop chips, mushy peas and gravy with some salt and positively drowned in vinegar.
OH. MY. GOD.
You can screw your Michelin restaurants …
And why am I saying all this?
Because like a few weeks ago, when I got some mushy peas I recently got a bottle of Sarson’s.
Oh my god, how happy I was.
Sarson’s … the fluid of fantasticness.
But better yet, it was a present … a present from Jill.
Let me tell you, nothing says love like a bottle of Sarson’s.
So thank you Jill. You may regret your decision, but I’m so grateful for your bad taste.
Literally. Hahaha.
How is it the 1st May?
Seriously how?
It’s so weird how I used to love this day when I was younger but now …
Well, I don’t hate it but I sure as hell don’t love it.
Back as a kid, the first of May represented the lead-up to my birthday.
A countdown where I could start considering who to invite to my party.
Now …
Well, it’s like a reminder how fast life is passing by.
God, this has gone very depressing hasn’t it.
So let’s leave it there and pretend this post didn’t happen.
And as a way of an apology, I’ll leave you with this …
… even though, in some ways, it’s even more depressing.
Hmmmmm, in that case I’ll leave you with this …
As you read this, I’m overseas. I know … again.
Which means you’re post free till Friday.
I knew I could leave a smile on your face.
See you in a few days.
Filed under: Birthday, Comment, Rosie
It’s Friday.
Even though I no one reads them, I appreciate this has been a week of very loooooong posts.
Worse, they’ve been extra self-indulgent … so with that, I thought I’d give you a gift of [1] a very short post and [2] a photo that gives you additional ammunition against me … even though from my perspective, it shows a level of self-awareness we should applaud.
But then I would say that wouldn’t I.
Oh, and before I go, a big happy 16th birthday to Rosie for tomorrow.
Yes, I know I wrote a long post to her yesterday, but she’s 80 in human years and if that doesn’t deserve a double mention, I don’t know what does.
I bloody love that Singaporean, street cat. – even though she’s most definitely now a princess – and while she’s definitely slower than she was before – when she gets frisks, she could beat Usain Bolt. Plus she’s still as loud and complainy as ever … which makes me bizarrely happy. So happy birthday to you Rosie and happy weekend to the rest of you.