Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Cats, China, Culture, Emotion, EvilGenius, Family, Fatherhood, Happiness, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Loyalty, New Zealand, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Relationships, Rosie, Shanghai, Singapore, Stubborness
So on Saturday, it will be our cat – Rosie’s – 16th birthday.
Sixteen. For a street cat from Singapore, that’s amazing.
What’s also amazing is that she’s still in pretty good nick.
Yes, you can tell she’s getting old.
She’s slower … less mobile and definitely sleeps more.
But by the same token she remains cranky, vocal and remains as demanding as ever.
And if another cat comes anywhere near our house, she goes full gangster mode … hissing, growling and acting like she’s ready to fight despite the fact she’s behind a glass door.
Like those TikTok videos that show men loving family dogs they didn’t originally want their family to have … I was in a similar situation.
I didn’t really want us to have a pet.
Not because I’m a bastard, but because Jill and I were living in Singapore and I didn’t know how long we’d be there and I just was worried about the hassle of bringing it with us.
But Jill had always had pets and I wanted her to be happy, so while she originally wanted a dog, we settled on getting a cat.
She threw herself into the search.
It wasn’t just about getting any cat, she had to feel a connection to it … so after visiting various pet shops with their over-priced, pure-bred snooty moggies, she came across a little street cat that had been found by a family and was wondering if anyone wanted to adopt.
Jill went to see it and it is here that street cat did the best move of their life.
As Jill lifted her up to her face, Rosie moved her head forward so their noses touched.
Despite the fact Rosie would not show such love and tenderness for about 6 years, that ensured the deal was done and we were now a cat family.
I still remember sitting in a cab outside the apartment as Jill went to pick her up.
I was a bit anxious and nervous and eventually the door opened and there she was, in her little cat bag, where we both wondered what the fuck we had in store for each other.
And while there have been some annoying, painful and scary moments … it’s been generally nothing but joy.
Put it simply, I bloody love that cat.
There’s things I’ve done for her that I wouldn’t do for anyone. Literally anyone.
What things? Well how about some of this …
In HK we paid someone to pat her so she didn’t feel lonely. I did a project for an airline on the condition they flew her in the crew quarters rather than the cargo hold. We built ‘penthouses’ for her to hang out in. I gave an entire presentation about what a client can learn from her and her ways. I even got my office painted with her – and some of my colleagues moggies. And that’s just the tip of the sad-cat-bastard iceberg.
That said, every year I worry this is the year … the one where we have to say goodbye.
And while I know that will happen eventually, she’s doing OK.
Yes she needs some blood pressure medication, but apart from that, she’s in pretty good nick.
That said, I remember when we were moving to NZ I was worried that would be it.
Despite having flown from Singapore to HK … HK to Shanghai … Shanghai to LA and LA to London … London to Auckland is a whole different beast.
But bizarrely it wasn’t just the distance that worried me, it was that there was a stopover in Singapore – and given she was originally from there, my nihilistic side told me it was written in the stars that if there was any place she would reach the end, it would be where she started, like some fucked-up circle of life. Which – to be fair to me – is kinda what happened when Otis was born and my wonderful Mum died a few months later. Which – given I knew she was ill – was something my nihilistic side had also started to feed into my head.
Except with Rosie, it thankfully didn’t happen. [Fuck you, nihilism brain]
Better yet, we knew it hadn’t happened at the time because we had paid for a service that ensured at every stage she was checked and photographed.
Hell, even when we ended up in MIQ in NZ – where we spent longer in quarantine than she did – we got bombarded with pics of her and she looked to be having the time of her life.
Jetlagged … but happy, thanks to brushes and treats that I had already got sent to the quarantine place before our arrival.
But if you think this proves how much she means to me, you’re only partially right.
You see, at her age – which is 80 in human years – my attitude is she’s earned the right to do whatever she wants to do.
Which is why I’ll get up at 3am if she decides she wants a treat at 3am.
Which is why I’ll give her my chair if she decides she wants to be under the aircon.
Which is why I’ll buy her an extortionately expensive outdoor beanbag because she loves sitting outside in summer.
If we were her servants before, we’re her slaves now and I’m OK with that.
NZ is good for her.
She has a lovely, comfortable peaceful life.
Lots of places to go hang out, a big deck to sit and watch the birds and loads of food and water. And treats.
And where in the past you always felt she was disappointed in you, now you feel her gratefulness.
A cuddle here. A lick there. Meows, headrubs and sleeping on your hip.
Hell, she’s even totally chill that Sky – Otis’ budgie – is in the house.
It’s a lovely feeling.
A family feeling.
And while we give her so much, she’s given us – and me – more.
Happy Birthday my dear Rosie. Keep proving the critics wrong and us on our toes.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Cannes, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Holiday, Jill, Love, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents, Paul, Paula, Planners, Planning, Queen, Shelly
So let’s start with the good news …
This is my last post until the 26th June.
That’s over 2 weeks of peace and quiet!!!
You lucky people. [Though who knows if anyone reads this now comments have stopped]
The bad news is this post is going to be loooooooong. Proper long.
And possibly ‘jealousy inducing’ … or at least insult igniting, given the blagging I’ll be acknowledging.
But there are valid reasons behind it all. Honest.
First up is that I have a bunch of birthday’s to acknowledge …
First of all is mine, because on Monday, I turn 53.
FIFTY FUCKING THREE!
This means I am closer to 70 than 30 …
Normally that would be depressing as fuck, but I was recently given the best present ever when Metallica’s management said I was, “immune from maturity”.
Of course, I appreciate under normal circumstances this would be a big diss, however at my age – and when they represent genuine Rockstars – this may be the best compliment ever.
Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be because there’s not many more reasons to be happy.
But 3 days later, it’s my darling Jill’s birthday.
Whereas I get more immature with age, she gets more wonderful.
I wish that was simply my attempt at being a romantic husband … but she really is.
I would love to detail how, but as I’ve mentioned before – she hates the attention on her, especially on this blog – so just know it makes me very happy to see because she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and is more than I deserve.
Happy birthday my darling Jill, I hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day.
Now you may think I have suddenly become a soppy-sod – and I am OK with that – but you may feel a bit differently when I tell you that on the night of Jill’s birthday, where most people would be having a celebratory dinner – I will be waving goodbye to her, getting on a plane and flying to England because the next day it’s …
Paul’s birthday.
That’s right, for the first time since 2020, I’ll be spending Paul’s birthday with him and seeing him and Shelly for the first time in over a year.
I’m so, so happy I can do that. I’m also so excited to see them.
The older I get, the more I want to be closer to them – even though I appreciate how ironic it is to say that when I have chosen to live just about as far away from them as I possibly can.
Who knows what will happen in the future to change that [actually, I do, I just don’t know when] but I’m thrilled I’m going to get to spend Paul’s special day with him and hang out with him and Shelly for a few days.
That I get to be with 2 of my most special and treasured people on their birthday .. means that however hard 2023 is, it is going to be a great year for me.
Thank god for horrific timezone difference between NZ and UK.
Which all leads to the final journey of my blog silence …
And that is me leaving Nottingham to fly to Cannes to present on stage with 2 more special and treasured people – Paula Bloodworth and Martin Weigel.
Like Paul, the last time I saw them in person was a year ago, so to not just see them … but present with them … is an utter thrill.
I say that, but at the time of writing this post, we have only written 4 slides so unless we pull our finger out, it may be a case of being happy to see them but a total nightmare to present with them – hahaha.
And finally, as much as Cannes can drive me nuts, it gives me an opportunity to see a bunch of old friends from my past which will be bloody wonderful – especially as George and Lee will be there and so it can feel like I’ve let comments back on this blog, haha.
So there you have it.
That’s why I’m not writing any posts for a couple of weeks.
And while some of you will claim its a massive holiday, it’s actually me reconnecting to life.
That’s honestly how it feels.
I appreciate that sounds overly dramatic … after all, it’s not like I don’t talk to them all pretty much every week.
And obviously, in the case of Jill, I get to see here every single day.
I also appreciate the privilege of being able to fly over there to see the rest of them – not to mention I am the one who put myself in the position of being away from them.
But this is more than just being in their physical company – which will be special in itself – it’s about the undivided time.
No zoom time limits … or snatched moments before the next interruption … actual time.
Time to go on endless tangents.
Time to go down multiple rabbitholes.
Time to enjoy the pregnant pauses.
Time to talk shit … rather than maximise the time allocated. Or allowed.
Time to be cocooned away from the other stuff that likes to interrupt and dictate.
And while many may think they get this every day, I’m not so sure.
Yes, being physically close to people you care about does – in theory – make this easier to do.
But proximity doesn’t automatically equate to intimacy.
You have to want it. Demand it. Not be satisfied with a different version of it.
And most of the time that’s not the case …
We don’t even realise it’s happening because we get so caught up in the whirlwind of life.
Dealing with the pressures, demands, expectation and – for some – the self-importance of our own lives.
And that’s why there is something to be said about living away from those that matter.
I know … that sounds the opposite of what I’ve just written … but hang in there.
You see I used to think the benefit of living around the world was that you could discover and explore possibilities you never knew even existed … let alone were actually possible.
And it’s true.
I’m not exaggerating when I say everything I have in my life – outside of Paul and Shelley – is because I chose to explore the world rather than stay in Nottingham,.
Every. Single. Thing.
That doesn’t mean people who stay where they are from can’t also discover new possibilities, but it’s definitely going to be harder which is why I will be forever grateful for the opportunity – and my naivety – to go and explore what life was made of, despite not having the faintest idea of what I was doing.
It’s why I always tell people who have been offered the chance to live overseas that they shouldn’t let the things they’ll miss, hold them back … instead, they should think about all the things they may discover.
And I still stand by that.
But of course, missing the people you love is a big thing.
A huge thing.
I definitely missed my parents every single day and I went through a lot of emotional challenges on that journey.
But I was also extremely lucky my parents wanted me to explore.
Of course they missed me.
Of course they would have loved me to be closer.
But they wanted me to forge my own life, not be restrained by theirs, which is an act of love that still takes my breath away.
Even more so when they could have – and maybe should have – asked me to stay, given my Dad’s health situation that happened 6 weeks before I was due to leave for Australia.
I offered.
I meant it.
But they said no … and I swear it’s because they knew if I didn’t go then, I may never go at all.
That’s just so typical of my parents … always wanting the best for me while also understanding the reality of me.
And while part of this was them having faith in the values they’d taught me – for example, chase a life of fulfillment, not contentment – I think another part is they realised something I’ve only just started to discover.
Distance doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, it makes your relationships more present.
Greater focus, awareness and understanding on what makes you work together. The confidence to dismiss the differences that stand in the way of your connection. The willingness to be vulnerable – not just to enable greater intimacy – but to acknowledge their desire to want to help you, even if you feel they shouldn’t need to. And an openness to the uncomfortable in the knowledge, you’re not being judged … you’re reaching out.
I appreciate this all sounds like a post-rationalisation for being away from the ones I love and care about.
And maybe a bit is.
But as I’ve said before, creating space so the people who matter get the best of me rather than what is left of me is important.
It’s not easy.
It comes with challenges and sacrifices.
But while proximity keeps you near, maybe – just maybe – distance helps close the gap.
See you in a couple of weeks.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, China, Colenso, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Friendship, Happiness, Home, Jill, London, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, New Zealand, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents
I was born in 1970 in Nottingham.
For 25 years, I lived there, worked there, socialised there.
Sure, I also worked in London … but I always came home to NG2.
Every. Bloody. Night.
But in 1995, I left.
I went to Australia and started an adventure all over the place. And while I back to the UK after 24 years – I never went back to living in Nottingham.
And yet, despite having now spent more time away from Nottingham than living in it, it’s still what I regard as ‘home’.
Sure it’s where my formative years were spent.
Sure it’s where my parents ashes have been spread.
Sure it’s where my beloved Paul still lives.
Sure it’s where my football team resides.
Sure it’s where I spent the longest period of my life in.
But still …
What is also interesting is that when I go back, while I feel a sense of familiarity, I also feel disconnected. Of course, that’s to be expected when you’ve been away for so long … but it means when I think – or am in – Nottingham, I feel displaced and comforted at the same time.
It’s a weird feeling, caught between 2 emotional poles …
A stranger in where you believe you come from.
Of course, I go through similar feelings when I visit previous places I once lived – especially Shanghai, which is the place I probably felt the most connected to – but Nottingham is where I have roots [or where I used to have them] and so while I am far away, I am increasingly surrounding myself with stuff that reminds me of the place.
But I don’t want to go back.
It is my past rather than my future.
And that’s where it all gets complicated because I want Otis to have a place where he can build roots like I did with Nottingham, but I don’t know if that’s possible or where that is.
He’s 8 and lived in 4 countries already.
More than that, at some point we’ll be leaving here.
Don’t get me wrong, we love NZ.
We adore our home.
But we feel our life still has other places to go.
It won’t happen in the short term …
We are happy here, Otis absolutely adores it, we want him to be in a place longer than the 2 year periods he’s experienced so far in his life and I haven’t yet repaid the generosity the country has shown us … but it will eventually happen and so I wonder what Otis will regard as his ‘identity’.
If you ask him now, he’ll say, “China”.
I love that, but it’s also more because of where he was born rather than where he was raised.
So we shall see.
Of course we could just stay here and remove the issue … and while there’s a big part of us that would like to do that, we also would like to be closer to the people who matter most to us.
At some point.
This may all sound like a reason to never move country and if that’s how it comes across then that would be wrong.
It’s dead easy to think about what you will miss by moving away but you need to think about what you will gain. And in my case, apart from Paul and Shelly in Nottingham … every single thing in my life is because I took that leap.
Everything.
My wife.
My son.
My cat.
My home.
My career.
My life.
So while identity is increasingly important to me, I’m not going to devalue the utter privilege of the adventure we’ve had – and will hopefully keep having. Especially given nationalism is increasingly acting as a barrier towards the understanding and acceptance of others… rather than a way for people to identify, share and grow.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, China, Corona Virus, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nottingham, Otis, Parents
The above photo was taken back in 2020.
We were living in Fulham.
Everyone was working from home.
And we suspected Otis may have had COVID.
As it turned out, he didn’t – thankfully.
But I love that photo.
The closeness.
The intimacy.
The caring Mum and the curious kid.
A shared moment ruined by me coming in and taking a pic – as usual, hahaha.
But who can blame me? Those two are everything to me.
And the older I get, the more I realise how much time I didn’t spend with them.
That realisation started with COVID.
While the pandemic was so devastating to so many – it was very good to me.
I got to be with my family for longer than I’d ever been in our time together.
Waking up together.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner together.
Putting Otis to bed and then going to bed with Jill at the same time.
EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Now I know for so many that’s a regular thing but for me it wasn’t and the experience was wonderful and confronting.
Wonderful for how it made me feel. Confronting for how I had allowed that to happen.
Don’t get me wrong … I love work. Or should I say I love parts of work.
And as much as it may not be cool to say anymore, but I loved the travel.
Not being on a plane for the COVID years – bar, moving to NZ – felt like a genuine loss.
Not at first – initially it felt amazing, given how regularly I had been travelling – but after 2+ years, I was ready to hear those engines whir into life. Just not so regularly as I had before … because flying internationally at least once a week, every week for years was just plain idiotic.
And while I don’t want to let all of it go, I have been changing big parts of how I am choosing to live and it all came from something my Dad once said to me.
You see, my Dad had quite an eclectic early professional life.
Not just changing jobs, but whole industries.
I remember asking him why he had done it and he said this:
“I love you and your Mum. So if I’m going to be away from you both for most of the day, I better like what I’m doing because nothing would be so disrespectful as being away for something I hate”
Now I appreciate the privilege in that statement.
There are many who don’t have the opportunity to chase after things that interest them.
And for my Dad, that was enabled by the stability of my brilliant Mum – similar to what Jill has done for me in allowing me to uproot us every few years for an adventure in some other far distant part of the world.
But while I’ve generally enjoyed what I have done … as I get older, it’s becoming more and more apparent that I want to ensure my family is given even greater prioritisation in what I do. That doesn’t mean they weren’t before … but I realise they could have been prioritised a fuck load more.
In some ways, it’s a perfect time for this to happen.
I’m approaching a point in life where some decisions will have to be made regarding my future.
What do I want to do?
Who do I want to do it with – and for?
What do I want to explore, experience and achieve?
Where is the best place for us to be located?
What are the conditions we need to protect what we have?
For me, these are revelation questions.
Previously, I just went with whatever excited/scared me/us the most.
And while this doesn’t mean we’re now happy to settle – because let’s face it, I suck at it, thanks to my only-child inspired, competitive, curious and annoyingly ambitious energy – it does mean these questions ensure my/our decisions are focused on ensuring my family get the best of me, not just what is left of me because the one thing covid taught me is nothing is as important as being together.
It’s pathetic I needed a global pandemic to really drive that home.
But to paraphrase my dad, nothing would be as disrespectful to my family than ignoring what became one of the most precious times of my life with my family.
Thanks to Easter, I get to spend the next 4 days with them … hopefully eating chocolate.
So wherever you are and whoever you’re with, I hope you get to spend it with someone that matters.
Even if that’s just yourself.
Happy holiday … and I apologise for the indulgent, happy-clappy post of today.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Colenso, Colleagues, Creativity, Culture, Cunning, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Happiness, Health, Home, Hope, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Martin Weigel, Mercedes, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents, Paul, Queen, Relationships, Resonance, Rosie, Shelly
So this is it, the last post of 2022.
Again, I want to say a big thank you to everyone and anyone who has read or commented on my ranting rubbish.
I have to say, I miss the comments.
I know it was my choice to stop them, but I do miss them – so maybe I’ll have to bring them back, even though I’ve become waaaaaaay more productive since they’ve been turned off as I don’t have to spend vast amounts of my time checking what insults have been written to me and about me, hahaha.
But lack of comments aside, it’s been a big year … mainly because it has been the first year in a couple of years without any lock-down. And yet I still find it bizarre seeing people not wearing masks and being able to get on a plane again.
To think of the isolation, suffering and pain so many people suffered, the speed of the bounce-back has taken my breath away. Of course there are still people enduring tough times … but given the horror of the pandemic has seemingly been replaced by the threat of nuclear war and economic collapse, maybe COVID wasn’t so bad after all.
That said, I’m so grateful for the ability to travel again as it meant I was able to go on a trip that I’ll never, ever forget.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Martin getting married in Portugal.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Nottingham Forest getting promoted at Wembley.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Queen in concert with a ticket I bought 2 years earlier.
A trip where I got to see my beloved Paul, after the longest time we’ve been apart in 52 years.
It was, without exaggeration, one of the most special times in my life … with stuff I thought I may never see – or see again – so you will understand why I still feel so grateful to be able to have experienced it.
But beyond that, there were many other things that made this year memorable.
We did some fun work including Beyond Binary, Rick and Morty, Phone It In and Give Up On Humans. Our agency Christmas gift was interesting too. I say interesting, but I mean ridiculous, especially compared to last years more sophisticated Restraining Order, haha.
I wrote a pretty decent April Fools post that conned a few people.
And then, more seriously, I wrote some posts about my dalliance with depression, fulfilment, prejudice and respect that seemed to mean something to people, which made me feel happy it helped in some way.
I worked with Metallica, Miley Cyrus, Muse and Journey, to different degrees of success and enjoyment, hahaha.
We produced Dream Small … which I’m not only very proud of, but has led to conversations and change I never imagined we could have.
The way Otis – and his school – dealt with his dysgraphia diagnosis.
I celebrated my Mum’s 90th.
I got to see the wonderful Maya and Bree again, after years.
I was somehow featured in a book.
My Bohemian Catsody office mural … featuring Rosie amongst others.
I laughed myself stupid about Gi’s shit explosion while also being proud as punch of my wonderful team with our WARC/Cannes Global Grand Prix for effectiveness … followed up with us winning the same achievement at the NZ Effies … followed up by us winning the Global Grand Effie a few weeks later.
Renovating the old Colenso table to give it – and the irrepressible, unmistakeable Kate Maitland – the respect and recognition they deserve.
Lizzie and Amy’s news.
And Paula’s wonderful ray of sunshine.
Then finding the brilliant Briar and Shelly … with Martin and Meg arriving in Jan. [Which in Meg’s case, is almost 2 years in the waiting]
And last – but certainly not least – seeing Boris get pushed out quickly [literally and figuratively] by Liz Truss, even though the evil Tories somehow remain in power.
Of course there was some sad and disappointing stuff.
The loss of the irreplaceable and wonderful Dan Wieden.
Queenie … which hit me far more than I ever imagined it would.
Ben. Who left us too soon.
Mike’s motorcycle accident.
Henry, Liam and Robin left the team.
My first dalliance with COVID. And Jill too.
The bullshit that Simon P was forced to deal with and face.
Not to mention the horrible situation one of our clients was exposed to by the worst of society.
And then too many terrible global events, with the situations in Ukraine and Iran being possibly the worst of them all. What makes these last two even more disturbing is how the media only pay lip service to them. As if they don’t deem the horrors ‘relevant’ enough for their viewers and readers so they hide it on pages 5 and 6 … behind articles on energy bills, political scandal and sports scores.
I know it’s Christmas, but instead of having that one extra drink or buying that one shitty pressie, donating that money to organisations who offer support and help would be amazing. Two of them are this for Ukraine and this for Iran.
2022 has reminded me how privileged and comfortable my life is.
While compared to many, I have only experienced that sort of life, there have been times that have challenged me.
1999 was horrid.
As was 2015.
And last December was arguably, the worst month I’ve ever faced.
But this year, from a purely personal perspective, has generally been pretty special for me and one of the biggest reasons for that is my family.
I know we’re all supposed to say that, but it’s true.
Not just for who they are, but because for some reason, I feel we got even closer.
Emotionally.
Supportively.
Connectively.
To be honest, I thought we were already as close as you can be, but I discovered there’s actually no limit to the level of connection you can feel with loved ones and that has left me feeling a bit overwhelmed.
Maybe it’s because NZ is so far from everyone, we feel closer to each other. Maybe it’s because we don’t see the people we love so often, we have become more reliant on each other. Maybe it’s because we just have gone through some stuff that it reinforced how special we are to each other. Maybe it’s for reasons I’ve not wanted to admit before because it challenges the priorities I’ve lived by before.
Who knows, but what I can say is I love my ramshackle collection of Campbell’s.
Including Rosie, of course.
They’re not perfect.
They can drive me nuts.
But they’re mine and I adore every bit of them.
Which is why I want to sign off by saying to them – and to the rest of you – that whatever you do over this period, I hope it gives you all you want and all you need. I am grateful for everything every one of you put in my life and I hope 2023 – as scary as many are suggesting it will be – will surprise us all with its happiness and fulfilment.
Just as long as mine is happier and more fulfilling than yours.
Hey, I may be getting more tolerant in my old age, but I’m still as only-child demanding as ever.
Have a great one. Back Feb 1. I hope to see you in 2023.
