Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Fatherhood, Fear, Immaturity, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
Every Saturday, the Guardian Newspaper runs a feature where they interview 2 people who have been out on a blind date over dinner.
And every week, they ask the same questions to both parties.
Sometimes they find love …
Sometimes they find a friend …
Sometimes they find their worst nightmare …
… but it’s always an enjoyable read.
Now while you may think my favourite stories are when the couple hate each other – and some truly do, with a total inability to hide their distain behind their one word, printed answers – that’s not actually my favourite.
As soppy as it sounds, it’s quite marvellous when people find someone they want to see again. Maybe it’s because it’s so rare, or maybe it’s because I’ve found my inner-romantic in my old age, but it’s really lovely.
The thing that makes it even more warming is how they answer the questions.
It’s not simply that they say, “I really like him/her”, it’s the way their answers have a real warmth and respect for the other person. It’s not simply about what they feel, they describe how the other person made them feel. It’s delightful and a very different experience to people who didn’t like their date.
Some get very personal.
Expressing themselves in a way that shows they genuinely think they were aesthetically, intellectually or morally superior. Which, of course, has the result that you find them actually the uglier person inside and out.
Anyway, a few weeks ago, I read about these 2:
Sadly Johnny – 24 and an artist – and Gen – 23 and a post-grad student – didn’t hit it off. But I couldn’t stop looking at their picture.
Or more specifically Johnny’s.
Not because I’m a weirdo, but I kept thinking how he looked like an older version of this one:
Yes … the hair is a big part of it, but there’s other things.
The gentle face.
The compassionate energy.
The wry smile.
I know it’s ridiculous, but it felt like I was seeing my son in 18 years time.
You see, when you’re 51 … your father died at 60 … and your son is 6 … you start to think about death a hell of a lot more.
I don’t like it. I don’t like how it sometimes makes me feel. I don’t like how stupid it can make me … but the reality is there is a chance I won’t make it to see Otis at Johnny’s age and that terrifies me.
I mean, I hope I do.
I hope I live a lot longer than that.
But then my Dad wished he could have seen me get married and become a Dad and he never got that chance … so seeing Johnny felt like a bit of a gift. A chance to glimpse the future, which I appreciate sounds utterly stupid. Because it is.
But it gets worse.
I found myself reading Johnny’s answers over and over again – wanting to make sure he was a nice guy because for a moment, I’d convinced myself that meant Otis would be to. [Good news. They both are, hahaha]
Then I found myself wondering what sort of artist he is and how he got there.
Is he happy?
Is he fulfilled?
Will he achieve what he hopes?
Obviously all of this had triggered my fears and insecurities … projecting the life of a complete stranger who looks a bit like my son on to my son.
Fortunately Otis – who was sat next to me at the time – was living in his own world playing Roblox on his iPad, not giving a fuck that his Dad was having a bit of a meltdown, hahahaha.
So to Johnny, I want to apologise.
I’m sorry an old bloke got kind of obsessed with you for a minute.
I’m sorry I temporarily stole your life to give it to my son.
I’m sorry Gen and you didn’t click. [though you may be happy about that too]
And to Otis …
Well my wonderful boy, know I love you.
Know I wish I could be here forever … to be near you.
To see you grow and blossom. To watch you discover a life of adventure and fulfilment. To witness the choices you make and the life you create.
I hope I see you at 24 and beyond.
And I hope you know my interest in Johnny was not because I want you to live his life, but because I just want to see you live yours.
For decades.
Rx
A while back I wrote a post about being deliberately ignorant.
I also wrote a bunch of posts about the Sackler family – and their consultant partners – who continually looked for ways to keep selling their opioid, Oxycontin, by claiming it was safe, despite evidence it was causing huge addiction problems and death across the USA.
I talked about how my father had said the reason for this was because that by denying complicity in a situation, people can continue to convince themselves their achievements and motivations are worthy of accolades, rather than anger.
Well recently I read a quote that sums it all up very eloquently.
It’s from Upton Sinclair, who said:
“Man has difficulty understanding something if his salary depends on his not understanding”.
Now, I appreciate money is important, but I find it interesting the people who are often the worst examples of this sort of behaviour are very wealthy … the people who already have enough money to live a hundred lifetimes in comfort but want more and don’t care what the impact of that greed is.
So they lie.
Deny.
Turn tables.
Pay people off.
Hire PR companies.
Talk about ‘their purpose’ to help humanity.
Anything but accept their culpability in reality.
But then, when you hear how they continue to get out of the justice they deserve – even when the law finally catches up with them – simply by sticking steadfast to their denials, and having an extortionately expensive legal team who [allegedly] have a huge amount of influence and interactions with the judge presiding over the case [see pic at top of this post] … you realise deliberate ignorance is one of the smartness things you can do.
If you’re evil.
Filed under: Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Business, Comment, Creativity, Cunning, Death, Devious Strategy, Management, Marketing, Purpose
The industry likes to talk a lot about purpose.
The supposedly unwavering commitment to its higher purpose, even if it only turns up in marketing.
It likes to talk about agility.
The ability for a company to change focus to maximise opportunities even, if often it’s done to hide a lack of strategy.
And let’s not forget pivoting.
The ability to shift from one area of expertise to another, even if the reality is its because you need to survive rather than you are forward thinking.
Now of course, there are some companies who have purpose, agility and an ability to pivot without using it as an excuse to hide their shortcomings. Companies who have embodied and expressed all these traits, often before it became another marketing or business buzzword.
Or – in the case of pivoting – there are some companies who openly admit why they did it. That if they didn’t, they wouldn’t exist any longer. Netflix for example.
But there’s some organisations who see the writing on the wall, but ‘pivot’ to such an extent that they literally show themselves for the lying, cheating, manipulative organization they have always been.
The best example of this I’ve possibly ever seen is cancer champion – Philip Morris.
You see the tobacco company has decided that their core cash cow doesn’t have the same profitable future as it once did so have decided – to loud fanfare – to pivot.
“What to?” I hear you ask?
Hold on to your hats, because it’s a Health and Wellness company.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
No, that’s not a joke … well, it is, but they don’t mean it to be.
Yep, Phillip Morris – owners of brands including Marlboro are supposedly pivoting to a health and wellness company.
It’s the equivalent of the Trump Organisation becoming an international aid charity.
Or kids TV show, Playschool pivoting to a rival of Pornhub.
How can they say this with a straight face?
They’re even lobbying for a ban on cigarettes within 10 years.
This is worse than poacher turned keeper.
This is an attempt for death to turn doctor … conveniently ignoring all the shameful acts they undertook – and still undertake – to keep their tobacco business killing its customers.
Look I get they have to continue making money.
I get a lot of ‘health and wellness’ companies are as questionable as a cigarette company.
But come on …
Apart from their bullshit being utterly transparent and sickening … what about all the scientists and doctors they paid off, bullied and sued to keep their kill sticks in market.
Do they think they’re just going to nod and think, “hey, we won?”
Will there be a follow up to the Michael Mann movie, The Insider … where Russell Crowe spends 2 hours saying, “I was wrong, Philip Morris are lovely guys really and I forgive them for trying to crush and threaten my life.”
And that’s before we get to the scientists and doctors who work for Philip Morris who must be wondering how a company committed to tobacco can just expect them to change their focus to fixing the illnesses they helped cause in the first place.
But do you know what the sickest part of it all is?
The markets won’t care.
They won’t cast doubt or suspicion.
As long as they make money they will support them.
They’ll call them a poster child for ‘purpose’ and ‘wellbeing’.
It will see the CEO, Jacek Olczak, celebrated and revered by the business press.
It will see him earn millions from bonuses, consultancy and speaker engagements.
We’ll watch holding company CEO’s jostle for position.
We’ll see even more agencies pitching for their business.
We’ll read fawning editorial about their shift in industry magazines.
We’ll hear strategists talk about them as proof of the power of pivoting.
And it will make me hate even more people for the willingness to support hypocrisy for profit.
Philip Morris. You can say you are a health and wellness company, but we all know the only health and wellness you have ever cared about is your own bank balance.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Business, Comment, Death, Empathy, Mischief, Resonance
Recently I did a talk with a client of mine, the brilliant Hankook Kim – founder of the brilliant Gentle Monster.
For those who don’t know who Gentle Monster is … in simple terms they’re a street culture, luxury eyewear brand who do some of the most brilliant – and crazy – collaborations you’ve ever seen. From World of Warcraft to their own brand of cake shops to pretty much everything in-between.
Anyway, we gave a presentation to a bunch of venture capitalists called Mosquitos Annoy The Fuck Out Of Giants and it highlighted the short-sightedness of their scalability investment model.
For example, Gentle Monster were initially turned down by a lot of VC’s because they saw them as only ever having a small retail presence, literally ignoring the fact he started the company with the goal of having an outsized cultural impact … whether that was through the design of his stores, the collabs he would do or the focus on making eyewear for Asian facial structures – when most other manufacturers based their product on larger Western physical features.
Obviously in all of this, Mr Kim brought the credibility whereas I just brought the punches … but it was a huge amount of fun, regardless if we convinced the VC’s or conflicted them.
The reason I say this is because I recently got sent the ad above about the beatboxing funeral musician.
On first glance you may wonder how many people would want that, but then you think about it and you realise that maybe quite a few do.
Not just because they like beatboxing, but because they want to go out with fanfare.
A few years ago I wrote about the songs I want played at my funeral, and while most remain the same [though I’ll be adding Myles Kennedy’s Love Can Only Heal, to it] … I’ll still have Europe’s classic ‘The Final Countdown’ to end proceedings.
Now I appreciate some will see that as a highly inappropriate song choice, but that’s kind of the reason for it.
To make sure whoever bothers to turn up is sent off with a smile.
To ensure my last ever act one has a glint of cheekiness and mischief.
To say thank you to everyone who made my life better than I ever imagined it could be.
And while this may all sound like I’m a delusional fool, the reality is it is important to me and I would be willing to pay a premium for it – especially if it’s the last thing I’ll ever pay for – which is why this is a reminder that before you judge, [1] remember it’s not whether you like it, but whether others do and [2] your definition of success may not be the same as theirs.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Apple, Brand, Comment, Corona Virus, Death, Home
How the hell is it the 1st November?
It’s amazing that everyone saw 2020 as a year of insanity, but frankly, 2021 has more than lived up to the same billing.
Sure, we now have a vaccine.
Sure, the World is opening up.
But people are still dying and – if you’re in NZ – you have experienced another long lockdown, which makes you feel like it’s still pandemonium out there.
Add in the fact we were living in England at this point last year and now we’re in New Zealand … in a new house, with new cars and a new job, and you’ll understand why in many ways, 2021 has been equally – if not more so – crazy for us.
Talking of crazy …
A few weeks ago, Jill’s iPhone woke us up.
However this time it wasn’t by the alarm.
But with the smell of burning.
Have a look at this …
Yep, it basically caught fire.
No idea how or why, but it did.
Fortunately we woke up before it could get worse.
But nothing says ‘broken’ like an Apple logo in red.
Amazingly it still works.
OK, so some of the buttons are hard to see – and press – but generally it’s good. Well, I say good, if you ignore the huge burn mark on the screen.
Weirdly, someone I know had their iPad do exactly the same thing the day before … the day after Apple announced their new iPhones and iPads to the World.
Now I don’t want to start any conspiracy theories, but an iPhone that explodes for no reason is a pretty good reason to buy a new one.
Which is exactly what we have done.
My god, Apple are devious bastards.
And I – or should I say Jill – are proof a strong brand can make you do idiotic things.