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.
Sad to say goodbye, but happy to explore somewhere new, boosted by the fact he would get to see his ‘Oddparents’ – Paul and Shelly – a lot more often.
And within days, he was a Londoner.
Sure he had a strange American accent.
Sure he kept talk about dollars rather than pounds.
But for all the upheaval he was going through, he embraced it all.
New home.
New school.
New friends.
New way of living.
It was here he started to identify what he loved.
We wanted him to experience a range of things so he could discover what he liked.
And while he liked being a ‘ninja’, he didn’t want to do martial arts.
And while he enjoyed watching football with his dad, he didn’t like organised sport.
Instead he loved acting.
LOVED IT.
Watching him practice his lines was a bloody delight … the focus, the commitment.
And while he would get a bit shy at the point of performance, you could see how much his whole being lit up when he was doing it.
I have no idea if he will continue to love acting or performance.
Right now, he’s into video games in a big way.
But whatever path he chooses in the future … as much as I don’t want him to have a life of struggle, the thing I want most for him is fulfilment.
Not comfort.
Not content.
But fulfilment … as my parents always drilled into me.
To be honest, I didn’t really understood the difference between fulfilment and contentment till I was in my 30’s. But now I realise it has a totally different imputes when you go from the ‘receiver’ of that intent to the ‘giver’.
I hope I can help Otis understand it.
But more than that, I hope I can witness Otis embracing it.
Comments Off on Big Week For A Little Kid: Day/Year 3 to 4 …
It’s gone in the blink of an eye and yet, when I think of all the things he’s gone through, he’s packed so much in.
Born in China.
The Californian life in LA.
The rush, bustle and noise of London.
The peace and tranquility of country-life.
And soon, another new adventure in New Zealand.
In-between that, he’s seen his Dad collapse when his Mum – Otis’ Nona – passed away. Learned to say goodbye to people he had grown to love. Discover how to deal with new environments like homes and schools. And explore the majesty of the World by visiting countries such as Italy, Canada, Japan, America, England, China and Australia.
For 6 years, that’s more than many fit into their entire and yet he has embraced it with a level of happiness, curiosity and excitement that takes my breath away.
I honestly feel it’s an honour to be his Dad and given this will be the strangest birthday he will [hopefully] ever have thanks to COVID, our goal is to try and make it one of the most memorable.
To commemorate that theme on this blog, every day this week will be dedicated to him.
No comments [except on his special day], just posts that attempt to put into words how much he is loved, focused on different periods of the life he’s lived so far.
Not because he’ll care – or even know – but because I want to celebrate a person who is everything to me. Someone who has taught me more than I’ve probably taught him and, in all honesty, is the absolute best part of who I am, who I’ve ever been and who I will ever be.
So this week is dedicated to Otis … the kid I loved before we ever met.
Comments Off on A Big Week For A Little Kid: Day/Year 1 …
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.