That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.
Or at least living in England for a period of time.
We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.
And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.
It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.
A mixture of fear and excitement.
Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.
Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.
But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.
And we can’t wait for that.
The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.
I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.
So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.
Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.
But even though they’re all pains in the arse, compared to what others have – and are – suffering, it was nothing. Hell, even turning 50 gave me the chance to do this.
When I originally wrote this post, I’d listed all the things that had happened to me this year.
It was a very, very long list.
And while I am super grateful for each and every one of those things – from new jobs to new houses to family happiness to Paul doing Frothy Coffee full time – it just felt wrong.
Not just because there’s a whole host of people going through a terribly shit time right now. Nor the fact I’m a over the self-promoting, self-congratulatory, soapbox shouting by people on social media. Or even because the brilliant Mr Weigel wrote it better than I ever could achieve [as usual] … but because of something I read in The Guardian Newspaper a few weeks ago.
Specifically the very first sentence.
Which was – utterly bizarrely – about me.
No seriously, and it went like this.
On a sunny Tuesday afternoon in July, Rob Campbell, 50, received a Zoom call from his boss at the advertising firm where he worked as a head of strategy.
Part of it was because I don’t think I am that age.
Part of it is knowing I am.
And maybe it was at that point I realised just how lucky I am.
Not that I was naive to it before, but it became more apparent.
Because losing your job at 50 is shit.
It doesn’t mean it’s all over, but it’s unusual to have so many good things happen and frankly, it all made me feel a bit embarrassed which is why I deleted the list of stuff.
It happened. I just don’t need to share it because I lived it.
And while it would only have been there to act as a reminder of all that happened should I – or Otis, later in his life – wanted to jog our memory about it, the spirit of this post and those before it say all that needs to be said.
So instead, I want to use the rest of this post to say thank you.
There’s so many people I am grateful to have in my life.
So many people who made the worst year, in many respects, one of my best.
People on here.
People in the industry – some I knew, some I didn’t.
People who just read my instagram and got in touch.
You may not realise it, but it made a huge difference to how I saw the future.
Then there is my amazing family. Their unconditional belief and support meant I never had to panic. I never had to worry. I mean, I did have moments of it – but that was all because of me, never them. Jill never expressed concern. She gave me confidence by simply being confident in me so the whole experience never felt scary – which is incredible when you think about it. Then there’s Otis. God, I love that kid. Seeing him come home from his new teeny-tiny school in the country filled with stories and giggles meant the house never had a chance to feel bad.
My mates were ace. A check-in here, a word of advice there, a dollop of pisstaking and a whole lot of love. They ensured I never felt alone, and while I was perfectly fine with the situation I found myself in, they made sure I stayed perfectly fine with the situation I found myself in.
Of course I can’t forget my old colleagues. Not just from R/GA … but also Deutsch, Wieden+Kennedy and Cynic. So many got in touch. Offered to help. Made me laugh. They didn’t have to do that – especially the way I had treated them when we worked together, hahaha – but they did and it meant more to me than they may ever know.
I want to give a particular shout out to Blake Harrop.
Not only is he the most handsome, clever man in the whole universe but he is also the MD of Wieden Amsterdam.
When he heard what had happened, he sent me an absolutely epic note. I’ve always regarded him as a special man, but this just took it to another level and I will keep that note forever.
And then my clients.
Past. Sort-of present. And now, future.
Fuck me … what an impact they had on my confidence.
Not just in their kind words, but in their actions. Signing long-term contracts, introducing me to others and – in the case of two in particular – collaborating with me to start Uncorporated. As I’ve noted in other posts, the work it has let me be a part of is unprecedented and I cannot say thank you to them enough.
Finally to the wonderful folk at Colenso.
To have one of the agencies I’ave always loved reach out and ask me to join them was simply the icing on the cake. They were open, warm, encouraging and honest throughout the process before topping it off with most well written job offer letter I’ve received in my life. Seriously, it was a work of art and if there was an award show for this sort of thing, it would be a Black Pencil winner for sure. I can’t thank Scott and the team enough for the opportunity to play with them and I can’t wait to be there in March and cause some trouble.
What all this means is that I have been surrounded by wonderful people.
Not just the ones I know, but people who just reached out to see if they could help.
I don’t know what I have done to deserve it all to be honest [it must be Jill and Otis] but I totally get why people say it’s better to be lucky than rich.
So to each and every one of you, I want to say thank you.
Jill, Otis, Paul, Michelle, Mr Weigel, Mercedes, Paula Bloodworth, David Lin, Carina, Winson and Wanshi, Nils, my wonderful old planning team at R/GA London, Lesley Cheng, Ryan and Sam, Mike and Sam, Trudie, Matt Tanter, Group Think, Scott and Levi and all at Colenso, Blake Harrop, Karrelle Dixon, John Rowe, Mr Ji, Richard Green, everyone at Q-Prime, Metallica, RHCP, Richard David James, Paul Colman, Flash, Rodion, Charinee, Debbie, Leon, Jorge Calleja, George, Andy, Baz, Lee Hill, Simon Pestridge, Steve Tsoi and PT Black, Patrick the Dirty Ram fan, Michael Roberts, Ben Major, Holly Day, Lindsey Evans, Dan Hill, Rach Mercer, Donn the grandpa jumper wearer, Ben Perreira, Maya, Chelsea, Bree, James Thorpe, Lani, Tarik at Onroad, Leigh, Nic Owen, Bassot, Judd Caraway, Gareth Kay, Pickens, Wes, Hoala, Brixton Finishing School, Mark Lester, Ros and Hiro, Lea Walker, Phil Jacobson, Maria Correa, Sam Clohesy, Ian Preston, Doddsy, Lee Hill, the inspirational Murray Calder, Wendy Clark and every single person who has insulted, laughed or ridiculed me on here.
While I am sure I’ve forgotten some names, I assure you I haven’t forgotten your kindness.
To be able to have all this at 50, in one of the worst years the World has seen is insane. I definitely feel some guilt over it so I hope that in 2021, everyone out there gets lucky … and if I can do anything to help that, give me a shout – because it COVID has reminded me of one thing, we’re better together than separate.
May you all have an amazing holiday season. Or as amazing as it can be.
I send you thanks, love and best wishes.
And I leave you with the 3 ads that gave me hope that creativity still is a more powerful and deadly weapon than all the frameworks, funnels and optimisation put together.
See you on the other side. Specifically on the 11th.
Can you imagine what it must have been like growing up in the 1920’s and living in the 1960’s?
The things you have seen, endured, been challenged by?
The advances in technology, social mobility, medicine?
Wars, depression, liberation, love.
It must have been amazing …
Well, the reason I say this is because it’s exactly the same if you were a kid in the 80’s but are around today.
OK, it’s not identical … but the cultural shifts have been, in many ways, just as dramatic.
Wars. Economic highs and lows. Medical and transportation revolution. The internet.
Huge shifts in expressions of creativity – from music, art, film and TV to fashion, food, technology and sport.
An endless journey of exploration, discovery and adventure.
And while it can all feel daunting, the reality is the changes are rarely night and day.
More like a steady stream of progress, even if not always in a straight line or done with fairness or equality.
Throughout her life, my Mum was very much about embracing the present.
Not in the sense that she was trying to mimic Cher [though I also love Cher] … nor that she didn’t value the experience and lessons of the past … but because her view was that if you embrace the times, you live a more fulfilling life.
It’s why she was always interested in what others were interested in.
Music. Art. Film. Culture.
Because even if she didn’t always understand it or like it, she felt it was important to appreciate it. Though, you would be amazed how much she did like it. Love it even.
It amazes me how many people don’t seem to follow this view.
Who think that actually, you can turn back time.
Like Republican/Tory voters. Or Daily Mail readers.
Stubbornly trying to maintain or recreate a time where they felt more ‘in control’. More important or valuable.
And while I appreciate change can be scary, it can also be exhilarating and that’s why the idea of living in the equivilent of the 1920’s to 1960’s has never made me feel so old, it’s also never made me feel so lucky.
I hope with all my heart I get to experience the World when Otis has gone through the same period of time.
It’s unlikely, but I hope he embraces it.
Not just for his happiness, but for what it could inspire him to do.
In 11 days, I wave goodbye to my forties and enter a decade that seems impossible for me to fathom.
50.
FIFTY.
Seriously, how did this happen?
I still remember sitting on the hill outside Erica’s newsagent with my best mate Paul around 1978, when we worked out that in the year 2000, we would be turning 30.
But here we are, 11 days from 50.
[Though it’s 15 days for Paul, who will LOVE those 4 days where he can bang on about how he is a decade younger than me … though he will also moan that my present for him isn’t like the full page newspaper ad I got him when he was 40, but a Forest shirt signed by all the members of the 1980 European Cup team. Asshole. He knows about this present as I bought it for him years ago so I’m not ruining anything for him. But I still have a surprise for him. Oh yes.]
And while there are some practical reasons for the shitting myself part – health, work, life in general – the fact of the matter is the older I get, the better my life has become.
I totally get the privilege of that statement, I don’t take it for granted at all, but it is definitely true.
Personally, professionally, emotionally …
Sure there have been some bumps along the way – some terribly hard and emotionally destructive ones – but looking at the big picture, the reality is my life has generally been on an upward trajectory.
Now even I know that it can’t keep going like that forever … but it doesn’t mean I have to stop trying.
The fact is, the older you get, the more you discover …
From what you like, what you don’t … to what you didn’t know and what you want to know.
And what makes it even more amazing – and annoying – is that every step you take, in whatever direction, reveals a whole host of other possibilities you would like to explore and investigate.
The problem is time is now officially, not on your side … so there’s a point where you have to accept you won’t get to try, play, experiment with all you want to do, so while that might put some people off, it kind of makes me want to try and pack more in.
And I am … because on top of work, Metallica, the school with Martin, I’ve already agreed to do a couple more projects that are intriguing and – frankly – ridiculous.
But there’s another reason for this attitude and it’s because my Dad died at 60.
Death is something I’ve talked a lot about over the years – mainly due to both my parents passing away.
I’m in generally good health, but fifty is still 50 and my Dad still died just 10 years on from this age.
Now of course it doesn’t mean I will … and I’ve come to this completely unscientific view that I should live till I’m at least 71 because if you take away my Dad’s age of dying [60]from my Mum’s [83] … that leave 23 years. Halve that … add it to Dad’s age … and voila, I will live till at least 71.
But then that means I only have 21 years left.
TWENTY ONE.
That’s nowhere near enough.
My wonderful little boy is only 5 for fucks sake. 26 is way too young to lose your Dad … hell, that’s even younger than I was when I lost mine.
Years ago, an old boss I looked upto said that if you can’t feasibly double your age, that is when you know you are – at best – middle aged or – at worst – the last stage of your life.
Well I suppose I can still feasibly double my age – even if it’s against the average age of death for a man in the UK [79.2] – but the reality is where I’m going is shorter than where I’ve been.
But shorter doesn’t mean less interesting.
And arguably, I have more exciting things in my life now – both personally and professionally – than I have ever had.
It also helps I am insanely immature with a desire for mischief, experimentation, creativity and adventure.
And I intend to fill it up with even more.
Fortunately I get that from a number of sources.
My wife.
My son.
My job.
My other jobs.
My friends.
My mind.
A while back, Pete said something I found pretty profound.
He said the narrative of strategy tended to focus on the importance of curiosity when discovery is far more valuable for driving the standard of the work you create and the adventure you go on.
Now I’ve written a lot about how I hate when planners talk about curiosity – as if they’re the only people who have it – but I really, really like that idea of the hunger for discovery.
I absolutely have that.
I owe so much of what I have to that.
The countries I’ve lived in. The people I’ve worked with. And most importantly, the family I am fortunate to have.
So while I enter a new decade, I will continue to live like it’s the old one.
Not in terms of dressing like I’m younger than I am – mainly because I have always dressed like I live in 1986 – but with the hunger, ambition and desire I’ve always had.
I genuinely believe my best work is still ahead of me.
Truly believe that.
And the goal of this decade is to achieve some of that while discovering new things that make me believe even better work can still lie in my future.
So I have to admit that I am loving being in quarantine with my family.
I appreciate a big part of that is that I’ve been impacted far less than many.
I fortunately continue to have a job and where we live has a small backyard for Otis to play in. I also know that with no elderly family members around, the worry and fears are limited to just our situation which is why, even though I would rather no one had suffered through this time, this period has been a revelation for me.
There’s many reasons for that. I am saving two and a half hours a day on commuting … so I’m get an hour a days more sleep. I get to be here and see Otis when he wakes up and goes to bed every night. And dinner time is now family dinner time … every single day.
All those things are wonderful based on the fact I just love being with my family.
We’ve never spent so much time together in our lives and I have to say, it’s great.
Yes, we would love to go out and see friends, but in terms of sacrifice, it has actually had some upside – though I would never want anyone to have had to pay the price they’ve had, to experience this.
The main reason this has been so impactful to me is that I was previously of the opinion being in the office every day was important.
Not ‘to be seen’ by management, but because as a boss … I felt it was important to spend time with your gang and be there when/if they need you. I still feel that, but now realise I can spend one day a week at home and it won’t do any damage … even more so when I assume many of the team will want to do the same.
That said, working from home has revealed some interesting situations.
As I wrote a while back, Otis’ naked bum dance to a very important member of the NIKE global management was an interesting one. While he has fortunately not done a repeat performance, he has revealed what he really thinks of me.
Just recently, this was our interaction while his Mum had popped out to buy some groceries …
As burns go, that’s pretty awesome … though as my colleagues gleefully told me when I told this story to them, “He’s not wrong”.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Fatherhood, Goodbye England, Home, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Paul, Shelly
So today is the 1st Feb.
That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.
Or at least living in England for a period of time.
We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.
And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.
It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.
A mixture of fear and excitement.
Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.
Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.
But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.
And we can’t wait for that.
The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.
I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.
So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.
Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.
So be careful what you wish for.