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.
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: Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Friendship, Home, Jill, Jillyism, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Paul
I can’t believe that tomorrow, we will be in the last month of the year.
Given we have basically all been confined to working in our homes, doing the same thing over and over and over again … it’s amazing how quickly this year has seemingly gone.
Of course, while our lives have been in arrested development, everything around us has been changing at a rapid rate.
From a personal perspective, in addition to the constant stream of dramas revolving around COVID-19 and the US elections, I experienced being made redundant, buying a new house, moving into the new house, seeing Otis go to a new school he adores, being asked to work on some of the most weird and wonderful creative projects I’ve ever had the opportunity to work on [for ‘clients’ I never dreamt I would get to work with], set up the adventure that is Uncorporated, mess about with the minds of procurement departments and enjoy the joy of being offered a job at one of my absolutely favourite agencies in the whole wide World, Colenso … which all combined to ensured life felt it was still rushing forward even though so much of my physical life stayed exactly the same.
Not that I didn’t love my physical life staying the same because it was basically the best bits of my life delivered in ways I had never really experienced them before,
Being with my family every single day.
Enjoying breakfasts, lunch and dinners with them.
Hanging out. Playing. Spending time just in each others life.
So while acknowledging the utter privilege I have in my life that let’s me be able say this – and acknowledging the fact that because my parents have sadly passed away, I did not have to deal with the emotional pressures and challenges of looking after elderly family members when you could not see them – I can say 2020 has been one of the best years of my life.
Seriously.
And while I look at 2021 with excitement, there is also a feeling of sadness this year is going to soon end because there’s been many things I have discovered, enjoyed and experienced that I either never knew, didn’t realise or just didn’t want to end.
I totally get I may be the only person who thinks this way – though my best friend Paul probably agrees – but that’s how I feel.
I know I am in a position of great fortune.
I know many are in very different situations.
But whatever your circumstances … I hope the final month of 2020 lets you feel either a hint of optimism for what could be ahead or grateful for the lessons this year has revealed to you. And if you can’t and are worried about it, then please get in touch – because while I can’t promise I can change this for you, I can promise I’ll listen and help you create the conditions that could increase the odds of making it so.
Have a great week.
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, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Culture, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Love, Loyalty, Metallica, Respect
Over the past 9 months, we’ve heard a lot from companies talking about loyalty.
Whether that’s loyalty to their staff, loyalty to their shareholders or loyalty to their values and commitments.
Sadly, in a lot of cases, this has been nothing more than a PR statement.
Something that looks good and makes the C-Suite feel good, without having to actually be good.
Of course there have been the exceptions, but in many cases, that’s all there is.
Now I am not naive.
I know in a commercial organisation, tough decisions need to be made every day … but the reality is, in many cases, it’s not that tough for them. Or it shouldn’t be given how often they do it. Though I do find it surprising how many companies are OK with letting people go but don’t like it when their employees let their employer go. Funny how they see that as an act of betrayal.
But that’s by-the-by, because this is about what real loyalty means and it revolves around Metallica.
So when the band started, there were 4 members.
James Hetfield
Lars Ulrich
Kirk Hammett
Cliff Burton
On September 27th, 1986, the band were in their coach travelling through a rural part of Sweden. They were there as part of their tour supporting their ‘Master of Puppets’ album.
It was a long and gruelling tour and sleep was in short reply. The band members had been complaining the sleeping arrangements on their bus were unsatisfactory so to decide who received the pick of the bunks, Hammett and Burton played cards.
Burton won and said to Hammett he wanted his bunk … leaving Kirk to sleep up front near the driver.
Around 7am, the bus flipped over onto the grass in Kronoberg County.
Cliff Burton was thrown through the window of the bus, which then fell on top of him, killing him instantly.
While there is debate on whether the accident was the result of black ice or the driver sleeping at the wheel, the reality is Burton – a much loved, highly talented musician – was dead.
So where’s the loyalty?
Well it’s true the band decided to continue rather than split up – like some other bands who had suffered the loss of a member.
And it’s true the bassist chosen to replace Cliff, Jason Newsted, faced a lot of tension from a band still grieving for the loss of their friend.
However, it’s the connection the band maintained with Cliff’s father – and the support Cliff’s father gave to the band – that is something to celebrate.
From the moment Cliff died, his Dad – Ray Burton – encouraged the band to continue.
Despite being in unbelievable grief, he was adamant the best way he could honour his son was having the band go on.
To play the music he helped create.
To let his name, talent and spirit continue even though he is no longer here.
And while the band probably didn’t need that endorsement to make their decision, they treasured it.
But more than that, they treasured Ray Burton.
In their mind, he was a part of the band because he had fathered the guy who helped father the band.
It was a mutual love … based on respect, compassion and a love of Cliff.
I know that sounds like the sort of cliched ‘bro’ statement you would hear from a band or brand in a desperate attempt for a PR headline, but in Metallica’s case, it’s true.
Demonstrated and proven by the duration this relationship has been celebrated, nurtured and expressed.
What’s wonderful is they always managed to do it in a way that was respectful yet positive.
Whether that’s having Ray join the band on stage to be conducted into the Rock n’ Roll Hall of fame, or just having him come to whichever band gig he chooses.
And then celebrating his attendance on stage.
But Ray also plays a big part in keeping this relationship healthy.
Because while he loves the acknowledgement the band and the fans give his beloved son, he also wants to ensure the memory of Cliff doesn’t overshadow or become a burden to his replacement. Or the band.
He loves the music and wants that to be the focus.
And that gives the band the freedom to keep moving forward.
Which, of course, makes them love and support him more.
Which is maybe why their loyalty is so strong and positive.
Because where many [read: companies] believe loyalty is about compliance regardless of situation, Metallica and Ray see it as being founded on openness, honesty and positivity.
They can’t change what has happened.
They can’t live in the past.
But they can celebrate where something they created is going.
Sadly, Ray died recently, aged 94.
The band’s loyalty to him still lives.