Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Fatherhood, Fulfillment, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Relationships
Nothing says privileged like an unemployed, 50 year old man moving to a new house in the country.
And I am that privileged prick, because today, we’re doing just that.
Given the terrible times people are going through, I appreciate how shit that sounds … and it is … but it’s also something my wife and I have been working towards for the last 15 years and why I sold the family home I grew up in, loved and inherited when Mum died so we could one day have this moment.
I don’t mean that just in terms of being able to afford the house – though that was a big part of it – but also because it meant my parents could feel they helped their only son create the family environment they always wished for me.
The reality is my Mum – my wonderful, beautiful, kind and compassionate Mum – told me the day before she died, that she wished she could leave more to me.
As I told her, she had given me the most amazing thing … a loving, supportive, encouraging family life and childhood.
When I was young, I didn’t know how special it was … but as I got older, I realised the upbringing I enjoyed with my parents was very different to many.
So to have that AND a house is like winning the jackpot.
I am not sure if Mum ever understood that, but I hope she did.
I hope she also understands that the wonderful family home I lived in for the first 25 years of my life and that she kindly and generously left to me, directly allowed my family to buy the home we’re moving into today.
So she gave me so, so, so much.
Plus the house has a stellar garden which would make Mum and Dad ecstatic … though I’m pretty sure they’d feel less happy about it when they see their son will have inadvertently killed everything within a month.
This is an important move for us.
Previously we knew we were only in places for a period of time, so while we settled there and enjoyed everywhere, there was something that stopped us truly connecting. Even if we bought the place we were living in, we knew we would be gone at some point so it was our temporary house … our temporary home … but this is different.
Not just because it’s in the countryside rather than the city, but because this is where we want our roots to grow. Where we want the walls to hold stories from our past and future. Where we want to be part of – and add to – the local community.
Now this doesn’t mean we will stay here forever, neither does it mean we will never move countries again … but what I can tell you is we buy this house with the view of it being our real family home.
Somewhere for the long term, not the short.
Somewhere we will always return, wherever we go.
Somewhere where Otis can blossom and connect.
And the fact we are moving into it on Jill and my 13th wedding anniversary just makes it feel even more special. At least to us.
Because of this, there will be no more blog posts till next Tuesday … we need to move, unpack and help Otis settle into his village school … another thing he’s never really had a chance to be a part of.
I have loved living in London.
I will always be a city person.
But I’m excited to experience what our first proper home, deep in the countryside, will do for my wonderful family, especially as the first thing my nature loving [and needing] Australian wife said as we got out the car to check the house out for the first time was …
“Listen, it’s so preciously quiet”.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, China, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Friendship, Honesty, Jill, Love, Loyalty, Otis, Parents, Paul, Relationships
So this is it.
Today I’m 50.
I’m also on holiday.
Well, I say holiday, but I’m just going to be hanging out with the family for the next 10 days.
Yep, I’m going to be doing exactly the same as I have for the last couple of months thanks to quarantine.
Christ, this is the weirdest holiday I’ve ever had.
Literally doing more of the same, albeit without the zoom calls.
But I’m happy – as I know you will be given there won’t be any blog posts for all that time.
OK, as I wrote last week, I’m not exactly ecstatic about reaching my half century … but the fact is, I know I have little to complain about.
The life I have is one that is totally different to the one I imagined. Even aspired for.
When I look back at what my ‘goals’ were when I was in my late teens, it’s unbelievable how mundane they were.
How unambitious.
There are some reasons for that which reflect the times my family were going through – but even so, they’re pretty beige.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong for that, but when I compare it to the life I’ve had and the life I intend to have … they’re about as different as you can get.
That’s not meant to sound some ‘bigging up’ of myself, simply a reminder that your ambitions are a reflection of the World you live in which is why I will be forever grateful to my parents that they were so supportive of me going on an adventure when they could have so easily encouraged me to stay … especially as Dad had his stroke just as I was about to leave and basically the entire family was thrown into disarray.
Dad couldn’t talk or walk.
Mum had to leave her job immediately.
She didn’t drive and so for months, she had to catch the bus to the hospital.
And then, when he did come home, she had to do the majority of the care on her own.
In fact, when Dad got ill, I immediately said I was staying but Mum and Dad insisted I go, because as much as they loved me and would miss me, they were worried if I didn’t take this opportunity after months of planning, I may never go.
And they were right. I wouldn’t.
I’d have stayed in England forever.
Possibly never even left Nottingham.
And while there would be absolutely nothing wrong with that, they knew exploring the World would help me discover who I am.
To encourage that at the very worst time of their life is the definition of unconditional love and I hope if I am ever in that situation with Otis, I would do the same.
To be honest, it’s their encouragement to go explore and discover that became my biggest driver in life.
Basically, if I was going to go away – leave my family to deal with the terrible hardship of Dad’s illness – then the least I could do was embrace the opportunity they gave me. To never take it for granted and chase down the things that interested, challenged, intrigued and inspired me.
I’d like to think I did that and do that but I know I went through a lot of soul searching when came I back to England after they had died. I kept asking myself why did I do it then when I could have come back when they were still here.
Of course there’s many reasons for that – and there’s a good chance we won’t be in England forever – but I know for a fact that as proud as Mum was about all the places I lived [Dad only knew I was going to Australia and he would have be blown away if he knew all the places I’d lived and seen] she would be so happy I was back. For however long that may be.
From seeing others turn this age, it appears this is the moment where they tend to evaluate where they’ve been and where they’re going.
And while I’ve done a little bit in this post, the fact is I do it on a daily basis.
It’s as much about what pushes me towards the unknown as it is that keeps me focused on what matters to me.
Hence the title of this post …
Because when you don’t look for security in everything, you remain open to anything.
So now it’s time to wrap this post up.
You will be relieved to hear I am going to resist the urge to be overly nostalgic and sentimental, so will leave with this:
While they will be in my heart and mind throughout the day, I don’t mind admitting that I wish Mum and Dad were here to celebrate with me.
That said, I am so happy my beautiful wife and son are here to share my special day with me.
And I genuinely feel so lucky that the most important person from my earliest days – Paul – is still the most important friend in my life today.
As I said, overall, it’s been a pretty fucking amazing run so far – and while I have worked hard for it [contrary to what many will say] I’ve also been bloody lucky along the way too … and I intend to keep that run going – at least in terms of adventure and exploration. I still owe that to my Mum and Dad.
So happy birthday to me and I’ll see you in 10 days …
Older, but not wiser.
Exactly as I like it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Context, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Family, Innocence, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, My Fatherhood, Parents, Sentimentality
Tomorrow I’m on holiday.
For over a week.
I am also turning 50.
Both of these pieces of news are no doubt going to fill you with happiness.
[Though there is a post tomorrow, so don’t get too excited]
Well, that is good, because this post is about just that.
Happiness.
One of the best things that has ever happened to me is Otis.
I loved the idea of kids – and at 18, I actually tried to adopt, hahaha – but after that, the idea was put on the back burner because frankly, I always thought I was too young.
I swear part of that is because Paul, my best mate, also didn’t have kids … so I was in some form of arrested development.
Anyway, one day Jill – who had been very patient – pointed out I wasn’t getting any younger so we decided to go for it.
Of course we then discovered the only we would pull this off is if we had IVF.
ARGH!
But then we got 2 pieces of luck.
First was being able to have the treatment in Australia. This was important because the process in Shanghai was so unbelievably weird, complicated and confusing, that we’re not sure we would have ever stood a chance there.
Secondly, the treatment worked first time. We are under no illusion how fortunate we were … though there was some sort of cosmic comedy karma in the fact we discovered Jill was pregnant on April 1.
Now I don’t regret being late to the Dad party.
The reality is I didn’t feel ready before.
OK, so I don’t know if men ever feel ready, but that’s probably less to do with being a Dad and more to do with the fear of the responsibilities associated with being a Dad.
And even though we are 5 years down the road, I still feel that.
Sure, maybe we could have had a brother or sister for him if we’d done it sooner. Sure, there’s a part of me that would have loved to do that. But apart from the fact I worry I may not get to see him grow old given my age, I can live with the fact I am soon to be 50 and I have a 5 year old bundle of beautiful mischief.
And what a bundle of beautiful mischief he is.
Kind. Compassionate. Emotional. Creative. Curious. Imaginative. Cheeky. Full of energy.
He is a loving son who wants to see the best in everything.
Part of me worries a bit about that.
I’ve already seen how some kids try to take advantage of that generosity, but in the end – all we can do is prepare him for how to deal with things that are sadly going to happen in his life and he is generally handling those tougher situations pretty well.
The main thing for me is for him to be able to enjoy his childhood.
I get that’s an incredibly privileged way to live … but I also think that’s something every parent would want for their children.
The fact is life passes so fast, we want to try and ensure he is given the chance to enjoy the present.
Be silly.
Try different things.
Resist placing pressure on him to do things he doesn’t like.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d love him to like playing football as much as he likes doing acting, but he knows to support Nottingham Forest, so I’m OK with it.
Which leads back to the point of this post.
Happiness.
When we lived in LA, we bought Otis a trampoline for his birthday
As you can see, he was very happy to get one.
In fact, he was so happy, he would want to do it all the time. Including at night, where he would go into the garage with a torch [where the trampoline was kept] and just bounce up and down.
For hours.
And hours.
And hours.
When we left America, I wanted to sell the trampoline and get another when we worked out where we were going to live. But Jill had other ideas. And as usual, she was right.
Because while the weather in London is not the same as the weather in LA, that trampoline was a guarantee of happiness for Otis.
Not just because it was a treasured possession from another place, but because he still loves to bounce on it.
For hours.
And hours.
And hours.
Which is a very long winded way to get to the point of this post.
As the weather is nicer, Otis likes nothing more than bouncing on his trampoline while being sprayed with water.
Yes, I know this sounds like the sort of torture the US government subjected inmates at Guantanemo Bay to, but he adores it.
Recently we captured a photo while he was doing it that, for me, sums up what happiness is.
As a feeling.
As a look.
As a parent.
As my son.
Which is why I hope this is one thing that never changes as he gets older.
Not just because I doubt it can be topped – regardless what he does – but because, for me, it is the definition of perfect.
Stay happy Otis.
You make your old man giggle with pride and delight.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Childhood, China, Comment, Confidence, Context, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Death, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Football, Goodbye America, Goodbye China, Grand announcements, Health, Home, Hope, Innocence, Italy, Jill, LaLaLand, Love, Loyalty, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Nottingham Forest, Otis, Parents, Sentimentality, Shanghai, Shelly, WeigelCampbell
So today is June 1.
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.]
Turning 30 bothered me a bit.
I was totally fine with becoming 40.
But 50!
I’m both bricking it and utterly casual about it.
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’ve talked a lot about the importance of taking about it, but I must admit, I’m scared of it.
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.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Childhood, Confidence, Culture, Cunning, Dad, Daddyhood, Embarrassing Moments, Empathy, EvilGenius, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Love, Nike, Otis, Parents, Resonance, Social Commentary
So I’ve been doing this advertising job thing for 30 years.
THIRTY.
And in that time, I've had the huge honour and privilege to work with amazing people around the world and do work that has achieved a certain level of fame and notoriety.
Because of that, I have been invited to speak at conferences all around the World … rubbing shoulders that frankly, I should have no right to.
The point of all this is that I've done quite a lot and achieved quite a lot.
Believe it or not, this is not a humble brag, in fact it's about to be a public humiliation.
You see a few weeks ago, while working from home, I was on video conference with a very senior member of NIKE's global team.
They were talking about some stuff, and realising I didn't have a notepad, I nipped downstairs to get a notepad.
When I came back, my client told me Otis had came in, done an impromptu naked bum dance at the screen, then ran out giggling.
To top it off, they said, “… and your son is still more professional than you”
Fortunately this client has known Otis since he was born so he found it funny – as would anyone really – and the meeting carried on as before.
Anyway, as I found this amusing, I put it on Twitter and LinkedIn as ‘the perils from working from home with a 5 year old’.
Within 3 days … THREE … it had achieved more views and shares than literally any conference, presentation, talk, blog post or tweet I’ve ever written.
In fact, it probably comes second to all of them combined.
ALL. OF. THEM.
Doesn’t matter if a talk of mine had been online for 10 years.
Beaten.
Didn’t matter if I’d written an occasionally topical blog post or tweet.
Beaten.
In 3 days, my sons naked bum dance had trounced all of them.
As of the time of writing, on LinkedIn alone, that single post has been read over 190,000 times, been shared 347 times, had over 3000 people approve it, had 100 comments and ignited over 220 different people – from big CEO/CMO’s to law firms – to ask to join my ‘network’.
Yes, my sons naked bum encouraged people to want to connect to me.
What sort of weird bastards are they?
[Of course I said yes, beggars can’t be choosers]
And while I can use this story at every birthday or celebration that Otis has for the next 30 years, nothing has highlighted how utterly futile my career has been than this.
Parents are said to always want their kids to go further than they have achieved.
Well he’s done it already.
At age 5.
Good job I love you with all my heart Otis.
