Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Birthday, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Friendship, Immaturity, Jill, Jillyism, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Paul, Rosie, Shelly

I’m writing this from Berlin where it is already the 15th June.
This is important because today and tomorrow are the birthday’s of 2 of the most important people in my life.
My beloved wife, Jill.
My beloved best mate, Paul.
While I’m sure they’re happy I’m in Europe on their special day, I know I cannot imagine my life with either of them not in it, which is why I want to mark the occasion with this post.
[Which is also cheaper than a present, despite the fact I’m sure being away from them on their birthdays is the best present of all]
Paul has been there since 4 days after I was born.
Causing me trouble, mischief and immense amounts of laughter.
Literally pretty much every memory I have in my life involves him.
Every. Single. One.
From first days at pre-school, school and college.
Concerts, booze and accidents.
Girls, games and gigs.
You name it, we have shared – and been there for each other – at every significant high and low in life.
Whether that’s being a shoulder to cry on or a person to point at and laugh ourselves stupid at.
Plus he is the only other person I knew when I was growing up that had a Philips G7000.
Paul is, quite simply, someone I absolutely and wholeheartedly regard as family.
Truly.
I am a better and happier person for him [and the wonderful Shelly] being in my life.
So to my dear, wonderful idiot of a friend, I wish you an amazingly brilliant and immature birthday tomorrow. May it be filled to the brim with immaturity and stupidity, which – let’s be honest – we both know it will.

And then there’s my Jilly.
My wonderful, kind, considerate, beautiful, funny, smart Jilly.
What she is doing with me is anyone’s guess.
From the moment I met her 14 years ago, she has been the one.
More than that, she has been my support system … holding my hand and giving encouraging words of support as we have embarked on a ridiculous journey together.
Different countries. Different challenges. Different adventures.
She’s never complained.
Never demanded anything.
She’s embraced every situation and made it something we can look back on with happiness.
Even those points where I was convinced I’d led us astray, she has backed us to come out the other side and we have.
She is insanely talented, creative and just plain wonderful.
And while everyone who meets her recognises how special she is, they often misunderstand one thing.
She is strong.
Stronger than most people I know.
Not just because she puts up with me, but because there’s not many people who would move countries to be with someone they had only met a 6 weeks earlier.
But she did.
Because she felt it was worth it.
Which means she felt I was worth it … which is utterly incredible.
I’ve written before about her unbelievable levels of compassion, support and love.
How it took me some time to come to terms with the fact I had met someone who wanted to take away any pain or troubles I had in my life.
Not just say it, but actually want to do it.
And she did and does … whether it’s the way she gently consoled me as I tried to deal with the tragic loss of my Mum or simply being the person I turn to when I feel lost or unsettled.
As much as I always felt my life was pretty great, things became infinitely better when Jill came onto the scene.
Then she raised the game by giving birth to our beloved Otis.
I always knew Jill was going to be an amazing Mum, but she does it in ways that continues to inspire and blow my mind at the same time.
The way she focuses on what he needs not what others say he should need.
The way she is teaching him to be a good person, not just a good boy.
The way she fiercely protects who he is when others are quick to judge.
And the result is an amazing, cheeky, pink-adoring, kind, chinese-speaking, curious, creative, mischievous, broom-sweeping, loving, Bez-dancing little boy who I literally couldn’t love anymore.
Not a single milligram more.
Which ultimately means I couldn’t love Jill anymore.
Not a single bit.
She makes the best days better and the worst days, less dark … whether that’s a well timed moment of love or an act of Jillyism brilliance.
I don’t know what I have done to deserve her.
I don’t know if I will ever be able to describe how much I love her.
I don’t know if I will ever be able to do enough to show how much I adore her.
But I’ll keep trying, because as much as this was an amazing present … she’s the best gift I could ever receive.
Happy birthday my darling Jilly, I love you so much.
Rx

Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, Comment, Confidence, Culture, Fulfillment, Paul

Remember a while back I wrote about my best mate who was starting his own business?Well, he’s doing it and he’s being successful at it.
Of course I knew he would, and while there’s been the odd rough day – ie: when it snowed – he’s enjoying himself, which is more important than many people give it credit for.
Yes, I know money is important – and for some people, it’s about survival rather than lifestyle – but enjoying what you do is often overlooked in favour of the size of the pay cheque and I think that’s a shame because in my experience, enjoyment tends to keep you in a company for far longer than just a semi-decent salary.
And that’s why I find it amazing companies don’t really invest in culture.
Of course, part of that is because many don’t know what it really is.
Mistaking it for free food rather than a sense of belonging to something bigger, more important, more powerful.
But then, when a lot of companies will u-turn on their supposed beliefs in a bid to win a new account, I guess it’s not that surprising.
And that’s why I think Paul is creating something far more valuable than just a cash machine, but something that is an investment in his happiness and ability to forge his future, which is – at the end of the day – far more fulfilling than earning cash in a job you don’t like.
The amount of people I meet who say they don’t like what they do but don’t do anything about changing it.
I don’t mean just in terms of changing their job, but changing their approach to their job.
Look, I get it if your income is your families livelihood, but you’d be amazed how many of these comments come from people who just want to moan rather than change.
I get it … moving can seem daunting, especially if you want to move to do your own thing, but to them I say one thing …
Be more like Paul.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Confidence, Family, Paul

As many of you know, my oldest and dearest friend is Paul.
We were born 4 days apart and have spent all our lives together.
Through school.
Through our teenage years.
Through the best of times and the worst.
Through moments of stupidity where we should have immediately denied knowing each other.
And while we have physically lived far apart from each other for over 20+ years, that bond is still there and it’s one I treasure so much.
Now, if you ask my wife or Paul’s wife what we’re like when we’re together, they would probably say we become our 9 year old selves.
Cheeky. Mischievous. Daft.
There’s definitely a lot of laughing.
And while we have only really had a couple of genuinely serious conversations in our life – forced on us due to tragic circumstances that was going on in our lives – I’ve always taken our friendship, and him, very seriously.
Put simply, Paul is a bit of a hero to me.

There’s a bunch of reasons for it, reasons I choose not to share as they’re very private and personal, but his attitude to life is one we should all aspire to, exemplified by the fact that at 47, he’s decided he wants a career change.
Now wanting a career change isn’t that unusual, but actually doing it – without circumstances dictating you have to – is.
You see Paul, a printer and part-time bouncer, is starting his own business.
A coffee business.
A mobile coffee business.
A mobile coffee business called The Frothy Coffee Man.
He’s bought a van with all the machinery, he’s done his training, he’s got his council approval and he will soon be located around parks in Nottingham helping tired Mum’s get their desperate hit of caffeine as their kids run them ragged.
Are their risks?
Sure – he knows that – but there’s far greater risk if he doesn’t.
For the last 20+ years, he’s been doing the same job in the same company, and while he enjoys it, he doesn’t want to be someone who has fallen into ‘comfortable’. He wants to challenge himself. He wants to be more in-control of his destiny. He wants to feel alive.
I think it’s wonderful.
I also think he’ll do brilliantly.
He’s cheeky, charming, kind and – at 6 foot 5 – a walking billboard for his company, so on top of buying a coffee if you ever find yourself in Nottingham, raise a glass for my best mate Paul … who is doing something the majority of us only wish we were doing.

Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Family, Goodbye America, Jill, Paul, Sentimentality
For all the shit America is going through and – let’s not forget – creating for itself, it’s still a pretty awesome country.
The warmth we have receieved from people has been amazing.
Kindness. Consideration. Welcoming.
To be honest, it’s more than we’ve experienced in any of the other countries we’ve lived in – at least in terms of the speed we got it – and so once I got over my initial skepticism, I really started to embrace it.
Of course there’s some things I’ll never get used to.
Not using a ‘u’ in so many of their words.
Calling it soccer instead of football.
Actually using the word “Y’all”.
High-Fiving.
But in most cases I’ve been able to get past it mainly because I’ve chosen to ignore it.
A big part of my ability to do that has been due to the amazing lifestyle LA has given my family.
I have to say, living near the beach, with almost daily sun and cleanish air is an amazing thing to have.
It’s probably as close to paradise as you can get.
However there is one thing I can’t deal with.
One thing I cannot ignore.
That’s right, it’s Otis developing an American accent.
Worse, a Californian accent.
Saying “Mom” will never be acceptable.
Ending the alphabet with “zee” can never be tolerated.
Which is why at the end of August I’ll be leaving Deutsch and on the 5th September, we will be leaving America to go and start a new life in London.
No, that is not a joke.
OK, blaming it on Otis’ American twang is, but the reality of our impending move is not.
It’s definitely not been an easy decision …
The thought of taking my family away from paradise so soon after we got here is horrible.
The thought of moving Otis away from his beloved Elodie breaks my heart.
The thought of saying goodbye to so many people who I now regard as friends, is horrible.
But, for a whole host of reasons, it’s the right thing to do.
More than that, it’s something we’re looking forward to doing.
OK, I admit, when we were thinking about the idea, there were a few moments where I went through a range of emotions I didn’t know were there.
Or said another way, a whole range of emotions I’d obviously been doing a good job of keeping hidden deep down inside for years and years.
Part of it was a sense of guilt about moving ‘home’ after my parents had passed away.
I kept thinking that if I was going to go back, why didn’t I do it when they were alive?
Of course there were many reasons for it – reasons my parents both knew and encouraged – but underpinning them all was this belief I was never going to move back to the UK.
Except I am.
And while it’s been over 24 years since I last lived there – so it will probably feel like a totally new place – I’m excited about it, even though insane stuff like brexit is [allegedly] just around the corner.
Part of this is that I’ll be living in London for the first time in my life. [As opposed to just commuting there]
Part of this is because I’ll be physically closer to my beloved Paul and Shelly than I’ve been in over 2 decades.
Part of it is because it is another chapter of adventure for my wife, son and cat.
Part of it is because I will be closer to my Mum’s sister – my Aunt – in Italy.
And part of it is for what I’m going to be doing, which I’ll talk about another time.
But all that said, I’m incredibly grateful to Deutsch, my [new/old] colleagues and friends and Los Angeles for giving me an experience that has been an honour to experience and enjoy. I’ll write a proper goodbye to them all soon, but what they need to know is they made a huge impact on me and my family.
Both good and bad, hahahaha.
When Jill, Otis, Rosie and I came here, we never imagined we would leave so soon, as demonstrated by the acquisition of houses and cars and a whole host of electronics that will only ever work on US power supplies [the most epic garage sale will be happening soon], but – as we all know – sometimes life gets in the way of our best laid plans and when that happens, it’s better to embrace it than fight it.
So to everyone who has made our time here so memorable, thank you … we will miss you, even if you won’t miss us.
Or – more specifically – me.
London. I’ll see you soon.
Start making your excuses to avoid me now.