Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, China, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Friendship, Honesty, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Parents, Paul, Relationships
So this is it.
Today I’m 50.
I’m also on holiday.
Well, I say holiday, but I’m just going to be hanging out with the family for the next 10 days.
Yep, I’m going to be doing exactly the same as I have for the last couple of months thanks to quarantine.
Christ, this is the weirdest holiday I’ve ever had.
Literally doing more of the same, albeit without the zoom calls.
But I’m happy – as I know you will be given there won’t be any blog posts for all that time.
OK, as I wrote last week, I’m not exactly ecstatic about reaching my half century … but the fact is, I know I have little to complain about.
The life I have is one that is totally different to the one I imagined. Even aspired for.
When I look back at what my ‘goals’ were when I was in my late teens, it’s unbelievable how mundane they were.
How unambitious.
There are some reasons for that which reflect the times my family were going through – but even so, they’re pretty beige.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong for that, but when I compare it to the life I’ve had and the life I intend to have … they’re about as different as you can get.
That’s not meant to sound some ‘bigging up’ of myself, simply a reminder that your ambitions are a reflection of the World you live in which is why I will be forever grateful to my parents that they were so supportive of me going on an adventure when they could have so easily encouraged me to stay … especially as Dad had his stroke just as I was about to leave and basically the entire family was thrown into disarray.
Dad couldn’t talk or walk.
Mum had to leave her job immediately.
She didn’t drive and so for months, she had to catch the bus to the hospital.
And then, when he did come home, she had to do the majority of the care on her own.
In fact, when Dad got ill, I immediately said I was staying but Mum and Dad insisted I go, because as much as they loved me and would miss me, they were worried if I didn’t take this opportunity after months of planning, I may never go.
And they were right. I wouldn’t.
I’d have stayed in England forever.
Possibly never even left Nottingham.
And while there would be absolutely nothing wrong with that, they knew exploring the World would help me discover who I am.
To encourage that at the very worst time of their life is the definition of unconditional love and I hope if I am ever in that situation with Otis, I would do the same.
To be honest, it’s their encouragement to go explore and discover that became my biggest driver in life.
Basically, if I was going to go away – leave my family to deal with the terrible hardship of Dad’s illness – then the least I could do was embrace the opportunity they gave me. To never take it for granted and chase down the things that interested, challenged, intrigued and inspired me.
I’d like to think I did that and do that but I know I went through a lot of soul searching when came I back to England after they had died. I kept asking myself why did I do it then when I could have come back when they were still here.
Of course there’s many reasons for that – and there’s a good chance we won’t be in England forever – but I know for a fact that as proud as Mum was about all the places I lived [Dad only knew I was going to Australia and he would have be blown away if he knew all the places I’d lived and seen] she would be so happy I was back. For however long that may be.
From seeing others turn this age, it appears this is the moment where they tend to evaluate where they’ve been and where they’re going.
And while I’ve done a little bit in this post, the fact is I do it on a daily basis.
It’s as much about what pushes me towards the unknown as it is that keeps me focused on what matters to me.
Hence the title of this post …
Because when you don’t look for security in everything, you remain open to anything.
So now it’s time to wrap this post up.
You will be relieved to hear I am going to resist the urge to be overly nostalgic and sentimental, so will leave with this:
While they will be in my heart and mind throughout the day, I don’t mind admitting that I wish Mum and Dad were here to celebrate with me.
That said, I am so happy my beautiful wife and son are here to share my special day with me.
And I genuinely feel so lucky that the most important person from my earliest days – Paul – is still the most important friend in my life today.
As I said, overall, it’s been a pretty fucking amazing run so far – and while I have worked hard for it [contrary to what many will say] I’ve also been bloody lucky along the way too … and I intend to keep that run going – at least in terms of adventure and exploration. I still owe that to my Mum and Dad.
So happy birthday to me and I’ll see you in 10 days …
Older, but not wiser.
Exactly as I like it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis, Paul, Resonance
So the time has come to close the door on the house I grew up in for one final time.
I’ve written the reasons for why this is happening in the past – as I have the reasons why the house was, and always will be, be so important to me – but it is the beginning of a new chapter for my family and my Mum and Dad would be so happy.
Anyway, we went to visit her one final time.
While the garden remained pretty much as my parents left it – thanks to us having a gardener visit every fortnight for the past 4 years [and we’ve taken a couple of things from there to plant in our new home so we will forever be connected] – going into the actual house was a very different feeling.
Part of it was because there was nothing in it.
No furniture.
No people.
No noise.
And so the overall effect was the house felt smaller … more fragile … and yet, as I walked through each room, there were so many emotions going through me.
As I watched my son run through the place holding his toys, I could see me – probably at his age – doing the same.
I saw where my Raleigh Grifter was waiting for me in 1989, on Christmas day.
I could see where my Dad – and then Mum – would sit in the lounge, on their rocking chair.
I could hear my Dad shouting ‘it’s ready’ from the kitchen our Saturday Beefburger was ready for scoffing down.
I could see my old clock radio when I was in the ‘small bedroom’ and my big stereo when I got ‘upgraded’ to the bigger room.
I could see the bed Mum and Dad slept in … where I would sit by them and chat throughout my time in the house.
Mum and Dad’s bedroom was especially poignant to me.
Regardless what happens in the future, it will always be ‘their room’ as they used for the entire time they were alive [and I was around].
Below is a photo of their empty bedroom that I took.
I’ve superimposed another photo of Otis that I took on the day after Mum died.
He’d just flown with his Mum overnight from Shanghai and he’s lying on the side Mum used to sleep on, looking at a painting of a mother and her child that hung above her bed.
He never got to meet her in person – he was supposed to a couple of weeks later when she recovered from her operation.
Alas it didn’t work out that way which is why this photo is so precious to me and why I feel, in a weird way, they did get to be together – hugging each other tight – if only for a second.
Another thing that got me, was when I went to the garage.
When we were having the house refurbished because we wanted to help a family live in a good area, we wrote a message on the wall about how much that house meant to us.
Well, when we checked at the weekend, we saw the tenants had left their own note and I have to say – it got to me because while my life is moving on, it was built in those 4 walls and I hope it does the same for anyone and everyone who lives there.
Thank you Mum.
Thank you Dad.
Thank you house … you will always be treasured.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Audio Visual, Before Fame, Childhood, Content, Context, Creativity, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Freddie, Happiness, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis, Paul
Happy 2019!
I hope you had a fantastic time with loved ones.
I also hope 2019 is a very special year for you all, for all the right reasons.
While I’ve been back at work for 3 days already – which were spent in bloody Miami – I have to say I had a wonderful time, even if I didn’t get as many gadgets as I hoped I would.
That said, I’m not making any plans for the year ahead.
I’ve seen too many best intentions get ruined before the end of the first week of a new year to fall into that trap.
But it’s fair to say I do have some hopes for 2019.
Some are professional, but most are mainly personal.
More than that, they’re personal because it involves people I love rather than for myself.
I know … I know … who the hell am I?
The reality is I’m doing OK.
That doesn’t mean I don’t still have a huge drive to go further, but right now, my hopes are for others for the year ahead.
Of course the main people I’m focused on is Jill and Otis.
In September Otis will start ‘proper school’ and we just hope he gets into one that follows the values his Mum and I believe in. We never realized finding a school for him would be so hard … but when you don’t want to go private, don’t want religious associations and don’t want the focus to be so academic his creativity is impacted, I guess it was never going to be easy.
So we have our fingers crossed and will deal with whatever happens.
Which is why I am also focused on Jill.
As much as Otis has impacted my life in so many wonderful ways, it’s Jill who will experience the biggest change once he goes to school.
It’s Jill who has stayed with him throughout his formative years.
It’s Jill who has spent the days with him every week, playing and educating and just generally looking after him.
Their bond is a beautiful thing to witness and I know she feels being a mother has been the most fulfilling thing she has done in her life.
So now what does she do when she leads him to the next stage of his life?
Of course there will still be loads they do together, but I want to give her the backing to find something that fulfills her, whatever that may be.
I know it won’t be the same as helping raise our bundle of energetic joy 24/7, but I am excited to see what she will do.
She is extremely talented, creative and compassionate – and while I know she doesn’t want to start her amazing cake company again – we have discussed some things that she is excited by and I’ll be backing her all the way for whatever she chooses.
I say this because I recently saw the photo at the top of this post.
It’s a photo of Queen drummer, Roger Taylor, looking at the Freddie Mercury statue he has at the bottom of his garden.
The statue that was on top of the London theatre when their musical, We Will Rock You, was performing.
I have to say, I found the photo very poignant.
Apart from the fact it’s wonderful he wanted to keep the statue of his old friend – I can’t imagine what it must be like to see it every day.
Does he look at it and think about all the amazing things they did together?
Does he look at it and mourn the loss of someone he loved like a brother?
Does he look at it and feel the sadness of memories he will never experience again?
Growing old has many benefits – including not giving a damn what others think of you – but it can also act as a bitter pill when the things around you … the things you brought into this world … start taking on a life of their own.
At these points you can either sit back and focus on the change or lean in and explore the possibilities.
For the past 30 years of my professional life, I’ve been fortunate to always embrace leaning in to the possibilities – possibilities that has seen me live around the World and meet an endless stream of wonderful, creative individuals.
While I have no intention of stopping that approach to living, I do want to make sure that in 2019, Jill gets the drivers seat because apart from her generosity in letting me do so much of the steering, the reality is she was the one who helped us navigate to where we currently are so I know by handing over the driving to her, she will go to somewhere wonderful and fulfilling and no one I know deserves it more.
She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.
So happy 2019 to all … I’m excited to see where we all end up in the next 12 months, even if my blog posts will continue to bring the excitement of possibility down to a slow, painful crawl.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, America, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Cynic, Dad, Daddyhood, Deutsch, Differentiation, Emotion, Empathy, End of Year, England, Family, Fatherhood, Friendship, Goodbye America, Goodbye China, Grand announcements, Happiness, Hello America, Holiday, Home, Innocence, Insight, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Martin Weigel, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Paul, Planners, Planning, R/GA, Relationships, Rosie, Sentimentality, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d9/Tardis_BBC_Television_Center.jpg
So this is the final post of the year.
It’s been a big year for me and the family.
Then again, it was a big year for the family last year too.
However, whereas 2017 saw us leave Shanghai and Wieden+Kennedy – something that was truly emotional for all of us – 2018 has seen us go from sunny LA, working at Deutsch, living in a house by the beach and driving a custom made Audi to being citizens of cold and rainy London, living in a much smaller house in Fulham, working at R/GA [with some sprinkles of Metallica madness in-between] and traveling by tube to and from everywhere.
And we haven’t been this happy in ages.
Don’t get me wrong, there are things we definitely miss from our life in the US – people, the weather, Otis’ school, free soda refills and bacon mainly – but this move was right for us for a whole host of reasons, personal and professional, and we enter 2019 with the full expectation we’ll still be here when 2020 comes around.
I hope.
It’s funny, when I read the final post I wrote for last year, it is apparent that change was in our minds. We didn’t think that openly, but it seems it was there.
Of course, moving to a country and then leaving in just over a year is not the best thing.
It’s financial stupidity for one.
But these things happen and we are very happy for the amazing experience, though I must admit I’m even happier my wife, son and cat are still talking to me.
Fools.
But while our environment has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same.
Your ability to trash everything I write on here, for one.
And to you all, I say a huge thank you.
Sure, being told I’m a bad dressing, musically ignorant, gadget tosser every-single-day can get a bit tiring, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Because amongst the insults, there’s often pearls of gold in there.
Stuff that makes me think about things a different way.
Stuff that influences how I think about things I never thought about.
Stuff that just keeps me on my toes and interested about stuff.
And I love it.
I love that people come here and share a bit of their time and opinion with me.
Yes, I appreciate moving to the UK and still posting at 6am is screwing up the flow of the comments given the East Coast of America is asleep and can’t insult/join-in until much later … but the fact so many people still write makes me feel very fortunate.
While I have loved the ability to move countries and cultures so many times – and hope to continue doing it, just not for a bit – the reality is that is makes your friendship network difficult.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very fortunate we have technology to keep me in touch with the wonderful people I’ve met in every country we’ve lived [whether they like it or not] and this year I got to catch up with people I’ve not seen in years – from Freddie to Paula – but there is something about having a level of constancy that makes you feel settled.
Bizarrely, this blog has provided me with a bit of that.
Even with people I have still yet to meet.
[Though I met Marcus and Neil Perkin this year and that made me so happy]
While I would never suggest I am your friend, you have been to me – in many ways and at many times, both at moments of darkness and happiness – and I want to take this opportunity to say thank you.
To all of you.
Even you Andy.
When I started this blog way back in May 2006, I never expected anyone to read it, let alone comment so the fact some of you still are – regardless that many Police officers would call it abuse – I’m grateful.
I’m excited about next year.
It will be big.
Not because we’ll be moving … or I’ll changing job … but new things will be entering my life.
From my beloved Otis starting proper school – which literally is screwing with my head – to the much-talked-about-but-not-much-actually-done Weigel/Campbell officially doing its thing in addition to the exciting adventures and exploits my wonderfully beautiful family, my bloody amazing friends and fantastic new planning team will get up to that will make me feel even luckier than I do already.
Being back in England has had a much bigger effect on me than I ever imagined it would.
I am grateful for it.
I am grateful for all I have.
I hope this holiday season and 2019 is one that is wonderful for you all too.
See you in a few weeks. [Yeah, don’t think you get so lucky to not have me come back]
Filed under: Anniversary, Birthday, Comment, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Paul, Shelly
I know I’m on holiday and there should be no posts this week, but today – like yesterday – is a moment that needs to be celebrated, even if I’m not around.
June.
1970.
2 amazing things happened.
The first was I was born … hahahaha.
But the second occurred 4 days later, when Paul Hill popped out.
Though some of you in Nottingham will know him as the Frothy Coffee Man.
Since that day, we’ve basically been inseparable.
From discovering we lived on the same street – at least initially – to going through every school class together, every drama and hardship together and every exciting adventure together.
From kindergarten to college … divorce to death … mortgage to marriage … we’ve always been together.
Always.
And now my parents have passed away, he is the person I’ve known – and who has known me – the longest my life and that might be part of the reason why I genuinely regard him as family.
Hell, I haven’t bought a full page ad in a newspaper for anybody else … and that includes my wife and son!
I don’t know what it was, but we just clicked from the second we met.
A bond that has remained to this day.
And I genuinely mean a bond.
Even when I spent 25 years away from the UK, Paul was always my best mate.
We could go a month without talking – or a year without seeing each other – but the moment we were back together, whether in the flesh or on the phone, it was there.
The bond.
Solid as all fuck.
Like no time had been between us.
Now if you ask my wife, there is one thing that defines this … our immaturity.
You see, while life has changed for both of us, when we’re together, we return to being cheeky, mischievous 10 year olds.
OK, some of that is because Paul has done some momentously stupid things that makes me cry with laughter … and some of it might be that we have a lifetime of memories and experiences we’ve built up … but generally, when we’re together, we get younger.
Or more precisely, act younger.
I can’t tell you how grateful I am that our wives put up with it.
Just like I can’t tell you how happy I am our wives adore each other.
But there’s something even better than that, and that’s how Otis talks about his odd-parents.
Having my son see my oldest friend and his wife as part of his family is such an amazing feeling.
Maybe part of this is because Paul and Shelly don’t have kids of their own …
Maybe part of this is because Otis has spent so much time with them …
Maybe part of this is because Paul acts younger than Otis …
But whatever the reason, I am so happy he see’s ‘Uncle Paul and Auntie Shelly’ as being important in his life because I want all of them to know how important they are in ours.
To reach 50 with my best friend is a wonderful thing.
I would love to just sit down and talk about all the things we can remember together.
And while I could do that today – when I go to see him – it would take a long time.
But there are some things that stand out to me …
From him ALWAYS picking me as the ‘dog’ in the song ‘Old McDonald’ … so all the kids in kindergarten would smack me on the head.
To the time he came back from a family trip to Hong Kong with the first digital watch I’d ever seen with a calculator in it.
When we bumped into each other in LAX, not knowing our wives had spent 6 months secretly planning a trip for us all to go to Vegas and renew our vows with an Elvis impersonator.
That year he came back from the school 6 week holidays about 10 feet taller than when he left.
When we stayed up all night in Sheffield so we could get to the front of the stadium to see Queen – only to learn they weren’t coming and we got Five Star instead.
To Mr One Eye, Round Table Christmas Tree, shoes on the wrong feet, the girls at Glens, BMX petition, the ‘Jessops’ mirror, Duchess, the ‘Denmark’ incident, wheelie competitions, a coach reversing up his parents driveway at midnight, Rock City on Friday night, Bangkok Shakes tours, sawing my finger off, his insanely large appendage, Passport to Pornland …. he has been involved or connected to every single event in my life.
Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Big. Small. Fun. Stupid.
And yet in all this time together, we have only ever had one falling out.
One!
And all I can remember is that it was about a local radio DJ who had committed murder.
God knows what we disagreed on but all I know is we were waiting for the number 45 bus to take us into town from Greythorn Drive … we had an argument … and I walked off in a huff.
I think I rang him the next day in tears to apologise and he was like, “what are you apologising for?”.
And that’s him.
Kind. Generous. Stupid. Lovely.
The reality is, Paul and I have a friendship based on enjoying life rather than worrying about it.
That doesn’t mean we are immune from pressure, troubles and hardship.
We both have had – and will have – situations that have been challenging and devastating to us. And when they happen, we are there for each other. But when I think of my relationship with Paul, I think of happiness.
That I still think that 50 years down the line is both incredible and testimony to his character.
I am proud of who he is.
I am proud of what he’s doing..
I am proud I get to call him my best mate.
Happy birthday beautiful.
Can’t wait to see you.
Here’s to the next 10.
Rx
_________________________________________________________________________________
Oh hang on, I’ve forgotten the best part.
As you know I’m a sentimental fart.
When Paul turned 40, I wanted to get him something that would show him how much I adored him and so – as I mentioned earlier in this post – I bought a full page ad in the Nottingham Evening Post newspaper.
The ad is the picture showing Paul at different stages of his ‘development’.
What’s funny is the paper then interviewed me to find out more about my ridiculousness gift and for some reason, they kept referring to Shelly – his wife – as ‘second wife, Shelly’.
They even printed it!
Fortunately she took it in good humour, which is handy as I then bought her mugs and tea towels with it proudly emblazoned on them.
But 50 is a whole different age …
So while I wanted to get Paul something that celebrated his birthday milestone and showed how much I love him … I wanted it to be more subtle, more respectable, more in keeping with people of our age.
So I got him this … I hope he like it, it took me an age to edit it all together
Happy birthday big fella.