Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Childhood, Comment, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Friendship, Fulfillment, Insight, Love, Otis
Contrary to retailers attempts, the official Christmas countdown starts now.
Of course, for some of you out there – including my wife and I – a loved one may also be having a birthday during this month as well, which just adds to the stress of what to get them.
Well I am here to help with a handy Christmas/Birthday guide …
Now just ‘any guide’ but something that will ensure you can give a gift that is tailor made for whoever you are buying it for.
All you have to do, is invest the time in knowing who they are, what they’re really interested in or what they wish eo explore.
Here it is.
You’re welcome.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Context, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Friendship, Fulfillment, Happiness, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Paul, Relationships, Rosie
When I was growing up, our back garden was a disaster.
Overgrown.
Tall grass.
Brambles.
Bushes.
Beautiful mayhem.
As a kid, I thought it was amazing.
Me and Paul would run in there and it felt like we were in the jungle.
From playing hide and seek to pretending we were soldiers, it could all happen there.
Then around the age of 5, Mum and Dad had an extension put onto the house and because the loan they took out for it was a bit more than they needed to have it built, they spent the rest on the garden.
Oh how they loved it.
They spent hours there.
Creating it. Cultivating it. Nurturing it. Admiring it.
My god, the way my dad treated his ‘sweet peas’ was enough to make me think he loved them more than me sometimes.
And while I still could play softball tennis with Mum on the patio, I always felt I had had something robbed from me – despite the fact there was a massive park down the road and huge fields of nothingness around the house.
So from there on in, while I could appreciate a nice garden, I always saw them as something that pushed me away rather than welcomed me in.
Until now.
I readily admit I had nothing to do with the garden we have in the home we have just bought.
I readily admit part of its appeal is that it’s mature, so feels natural rather than contrived.
And I readily admit I am still as shit and unenthusiastic about gardening as I ever was.
But my god, I am shocked at how much I love it.
I can stare at it for hours.
Sit in it for days.
Doing nothing but looking at it’s beautiful vibrancy and shades.
Seeing Rosie the cat stretch out on the deck like she has just hit ‘peak cat life’.
Watching Otis play on the swing hanging from the tree then looking at Jill picking up all the apples that have fallen from Otis’ adventure. Turning them into pies that we scoff or give to the neighbours in an blatant attempt to mitigate the mayhem we’ve caused in the first few months of living here with huge moving trucks blocking the road and electrical blackouts that we absolutely, definitely did not cause.
The idea of all this is about as foreign to me as you could get.
I’m a city person.
I like noise and bustle not nature and quiet.
Yet … yet … this is something very special.
Something I feel a real privilege to experience, which I acknowledge is only possible because of the privileged position I am in.
And while all these feelings could all be because of my age or because this house is our family home – regardless of the incoming NZ adventure – the impact of a simple garden has been far more than I ever imagined.
Which makes me think it could also have something to do with making me feel closer to Mum and Dad.
You see while our little garden at home was nothing like this, it was incredibly special to them.
Sure it was beautiful. Sure it was the fruits of their hard work and care. But it seemed to be a place that let them feel everything was going to be OK, regardless of the challenges.
And over the years, our wonderful little family faced many – but that garden always gave them comfort and joy.
A little piece of heaven.
Blossoming into radiant beauty and colour even after the harshest of winters.
Reminding them that the darkest times will always welcome a new spring.
And while as a kid I didn’t really like how that garden had robbed me of my jungle, I grew to appreciate it.
I saw what it did for my parents.
I still remember how my Dad stared in wonder at it after his stroke.
He’d been in hospital for months and was finally allowed home.
And while he needed a lot of care from Mum, that garden was like medicine for him. Helping him forget the pain he was in. Helping him forget the turmoil he was going through.
No longer able to talk.
No longer able to walk properly.
But here, facing the fruits of his love and labour, all was forgotten.
He was safe.
He felt nourished.
He was connected to something his body was not able to let him enjoy anymore.
He and Mum could transport themselves to a time and place where everything was OK.
And while I hope I never face the tragedy my Father suffered – and acknowledge this garden is from the toil of others hands – I feel I get what nature was able to do for Mum and Dad.
Because it isn’t just what grows in the garden, but what it helps blossom within yourself.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Audio Visual, Childhood, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Love, Music, Queen, Relationships
OK, full disclosure, this is a post about Queen.
It’s also a post about parents, love, death and sentimentality.
So in some ways, it might be ‘peak-Rob blogging’.
But it’s not about me, it’s about a story I read recently that I just thought was beautiful.
OK, so it kind of reminded me of the time my Dad surprised me by buying The Works, Queen’s 1984 album, but most of all it just reminded me how music and memories are so deeply entwined that it has the capacity to act as some sort of temporary time machine.
And that is pretty wonderful.
With that, here’s the story …
For what it’s worth, my dad took me to see Queen at the L.A. Forum in’77.
I was 10.
This band Thin Lizzy opened for them. I remember thinking, “Who is this Lizzy chick?!?”
Then the lights went out, and Jailbreak began. I’ve never been the same …
All this is the introduction to one of the greatest moments of my life.
If ya have a moment, here’s the story …
I was 9 when I saw the full page ad in L.A. Times Calendar.
My parents had just divorced.
The Forum show was on my 10th birthday.
I called Dad …
“Hey Dad, um, Queen is playing on my birthday …”
“Yeah, I know. I tried to get tickets, but they’re sold out.”
[Damn!]
So Dad picks me up on March 3rd, and says “Let’s go to Sizzler for your birthday.”
“Okay, Dad, sounds great.” And it did, because I was thrilled to be with him.
So on the way to Sizzler, we ‘happen’ to pass The Forum.
In HUGE flashing lights: QUEEN TONIGHT!!
I thought ‘Oh man, what a dick! How could he torture me like this?!?’
I said nothing about that and we ate.
Afterwards on the way back home, we pass The Forum AGAIN.
Dad says …
“Oh, can you grab something out of the glove compartment for me?”
“Sure Dad,” I reply.
I open it and there – on top of the papers – is an envelope.
“This, Dad?” I ask.
“Yeah. Open it for me, will ya?” he says.
Guess what.
2 FUCKING TICKETS TO SEE QUEEN TONIGHT!
I will NEVER forget the sheer joy of that moment.
I still have the tour program.
Dad passed away, and at his memorial, I jammed all my brothers and nieces and nephews into my van and BLASTED Bohemian Rhapsody.
When it ended, there was complete silence.
It was freakin beautiful.
Thank you for reading.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Black Lives Matter, Comment, Corporate Evil, Culture, Empathy, Equality, History, Honesty, Love, Loyalty, Perspective, Politics, Racism, Relevance, Resonance, Social Commentary, Social Divide
OK, let’s get the obvious out the way.
Even if 2020 is the most important year, it’s still been a shit year.
But the point being made is a good one.
To be honest, when I first read it, it felt very much like an ad for NIKE.
Taking what we think and forcing us to re-imagine it.
To feel the words rather than functionally jump to conclusions.
And while there may well be a lot of good that comes out of this.
There has been a lot of pain to lead up to this point and then get to this situation.
However as much as many of us probably wish to put all this behind us, it reminds me of something my Dad once told me.
My Dad changed careers quite a lot in his life.
And when I say ‘changed careers’, I mean it.
From the RAF to insurance to a photographer to law.
Fortunately for the family, my Mum was much more stable … hahaha.
But one day I asked my Dad why he did it … why he didn’t just change job, but dramatically and radically changed industry, even if it meant he had to retrain and re-qualify.
And he gave me the best answer I’ve ever heard.
It went like this:
“I love you and your Mum. If I’m going to spend so much time away from you every single day day, I owe it to you to be doing something I love because nothing would be more insulting than being away from the people I want to spend all my time with, doing something I hate”.
I have always taken that to heart.
Fulfilment over contentment.
It’s what has helped me make decisions that others thought were mad.
It’s behind the jobs I’ve taken, the countries I’ve lived in and the projects I’ve embarked on.
And while there were times it opened up challenges that made me question what I was doing, it always was worth it.
The best things always are.
And while I’ve experienced a fraction of the pain others have had to endure in 2020 – both in terms of the impact it has had on them and the duration it has lasted for them – this is the moment where we need to see change through … to get to the other side rather than try to go back to where we were.
Because on the other side of all this shit, is a chance.
A real, once-in-a-lifetime chance to make things right.
Not just in the US, but everywhere.
Where the systemic and systematic prejudice and racism that is embedded and integrated into our whole way of life is changed.
From education to higher government.
Where people of colour are given the equal rights that the rest of us have enjoyed our entire life.
And let’s be honest, if we do that, we still get the easy job.
There’s people out there who have fought for generations for this moment.
To be seen … heard … noticed … valued.
Which is why we have a moral duty to see this through … to keep fighting to the very end … because nothing would be more disrespectful to the people we say we stand with than walking away at the point we have the chance to make sustainable, effective change.
And if you need any other reason – which you shouldn’t, but just in case – there’s the fact that if we force equality – real, actionable, sustainable equality – into our everyday lives, the people of colour community will lift us all higher.
Take us somewhere better. For absolutely everyone.
Which is why we have to choose fulfilment over comfort.
We over me.
To make 2020 the most important year rather than the worst.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Confidence, Context, Creativity, Culture, Design, Distinction, Emotion, Empathy, England, Goodbye America, Imagination, Innocence, Innovation, Insight, Legend, Love, Marketing, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Paul, Perspective, Planners, Purpose, R/GA, Relationships
When I first started working in London – just as I was starting out in this industry – I commuted about 5 hours a day.
A DAY!
To be fair, that was of my own making because the company thought I lived in London because I’d given them my aunts address when I applied and got hird.
When they eventually found out I lived with my parents in Nottingham, they were livid.
And they had every right to be.
But as they were giving me the first of my long history of written warnings, I asked the question: “would you have hired me if you knew I lived in Nottingham?” … and didn’t hear a word back.
And while I knew I deserved it, what pissed me off was that I generally was always the first person in and last out. Driving up and down the M1 in my shitty Ford Fiesta with one wing mirror and a radio that couldn’t drown out the sound of my engine. But the fact was, I was a bloody idiot and as much as they probably wouldn’t have hired me if I’d be honest with them from the start, I was fortunate not to be kicked out of an industry I still love.
Well. Most of the time.
And while I was young and having a car felt amazing … even then I knew 5 hours a day – 25 hours a week on a good week – was too much.
Winter was the worst.
Bad weather meant it could take almost double the time to get there and back and many a time I slept on a friends couch or a motorway service station, in my car under a mountain of coats and blankets I kept in the boot ‘just in case’.
My parents were not happy about it, but I think because my Dad’s brother-in-law was travelling 8 hours per day [he was head of traffic control at Gatwick airport] it somehow made them feel a bit better about it.
What’s interesting is that after that job, I vowed never to be more than 30 minutes from work.
And I wasn’t.
Until, of course, I came back to London.
Even though I was in a much better position personally and professionally than I was the last time I worked – and eventually lived there – no one drives into Central London anymore. And while I genuinely enjoyed catching the tube or the bus – helped by the fact that the stations I got on at meant I generally always got a seat – it still was a 80+ minute journey each way, each day.
Given our house was only 7 miles from work, that made my old 2+ hour journey over 120 miles, look positively effective.
And this was life for me.
Out the house before the family woke up.
Back at home as the family – or at least Otis – was going to bed.
And while we made it work and weekends were sacrosanct, the fact I was spending a minimum of 13+ hours a week going to and from work was – and is – ridiculous.
So when COVID started and we all started working from home, I was – for the first time in my life – able to have breakfasts, lunches and dinners every day with my family and I can honestly say I found it pretty confronting.
You see I loved it.
Absolutely loved it.
It was – and still is – one of the most wonderful times of my life.
And while I enjoy working, I started to question what the hell I was doing spending so much time away from them just to get to and from work.
Then R/GA did the nicest thing they could do for me.
They made me redundant.
And while there are things I could say about how they did it and why they did it, the fact is, I’ll always be grateful to them for the opportunity they gave me to come back to England, develop the team I got to work with and then – at the end – hand me my redundancy so I could rediscover and reclaim my priorities, passion and creativity.
Right now, I feel more fulfilled and excited than I have in a long time.
I’m spending more time with my family than ever before while working on a range of global projects that are some of the most creative I’ve ever been involved with.
Mad, mental stuff – from ads to products to art installations – which involve some of the most talented creative people in their field … from an icon of dance/electronic music to the most notorious developers in the gaming category and a bunch in-between.
Then, of course, I have the brilliant excitement of NZ and Colenso to look forward to, too.
It’s all simply amazing.
While I appreciate I am in an exceptionally lucky and privileged position, I can’t help thinking about this quote:
“The problem with life is we sacrifice what we really want to do with what is available right now.”
We all do it.
We might have different reasons causing it, but we all do it.
And while there are many considerations, situations and expectations that push us down these paths, I hope if anything comes out of the craziness of 2020, it’s that we think why we’re doing it rather than just blindly following it.
Because it’s only when we question our choices can we start seeing where we’re going.
And then we have a little more control. Or choice. Or even peace. We all deserve that.