Filed under: Birthday, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Jill, Love, Mum & Dad, Otis
Following the sadness of yesterday, today is pure joy.
I think Lisa would have absolutely loved that.
You see today, my brilliant boy – Otis – reaches a milestone …
He turns 10.
TEN!!!
Even though it seems only a few years ago he came into our life, he’s packed a hell-of-a-lot into his first decade.
Born in China.
Moved to LA.
Touched down in London.
And – it’s safe to say – thrived/thriving in Auckland, New Zealand.
But on top of all that change, he’s also dealt with a whole lot of challenges along the way.
Saying goodbye to his buddies …
Watching his Dad fall apart at the loss of his Mum …
Watching his beloved Rosie leave us …
Watching his Mum have a pretty big operation …
Go through his own operations.
Deal with a global pandemic and all the impact that had in terms of education, isolation and trepidation.
Then there’s been the new schools, new friends and – let’s not forget – the daily challenge of dealing with dysgraphia.
And while there’s definitely been some hard days, he approaches life with a level of kindness, compassion, curiousity, cheekiness and love that takes my breath away.
It’s all his Mum’s work and influence, but still … it’s incredible.
That doesn’t mean he’s naïve to the impact all these challenges have had – and continue to have – on him.
In fact, one of the things I’m proudest of is his emotional intelligence.
His ability to not just identify when he’s having a tough time, but to express it to others.
Of course it’s not easy hearing your kid tell you he’s feeling down, but I don’t take it for granted how fortunate I am that he does and that he feels he can.
It’s why I’m in awe of how his crew of mates are so supportive to each other and any challenge they’re facing or dealing with. That certainly wouldn’t have been the case back in my day – where it would have been used to taunt and tease mercilessly, even if not meant maliciousously – which is another reason why I hold more faith in Otis’ generation to make a positive difference to how we all live, than mine.
As you can probably tell by now, I could not be more proud of being Otis’ Dad.
Not just because he’s a great kid … not just because he’s my kid … but because he has made me a better person than I’d otherwise be.
They’re not empty words, I mean it.
OK, I wasn’t a total nightmare prior to him [I think], but he has definitely inspired me to be a better person.
More calm. More understanding. More compassionate. More open.
I appreciate some of my colleagues may raise their eyebrows in surprise reading this – or they would, if they read my rubbish – but as much as I may be a short-fused, temperamental, call-a-spade-a-fucking-shovel, challenging, confronting, emotional prick … I was a whole lot worse before, haha. That’s why I know if Mum and Dad had got to meet him, they wouldn’t just adore him from tip to toe for being their first grandchild, but because they’d see how he has been able to inspire me to be better in ways they never quite pulled off. [Sorry Mum and Dad]
Now kids ‘growing up so fast’ is nothing new.
But as I’ve written before, the reason parents can handle it is because at every stage of their kids ‘accelerated development’ they get introduced to a new trait they fall in love with … a trait so adorable that it helps them let go of the last trait they thought they could never live without.
Now some of these traits are ‘stereotypically cute’.
A smile.
A sound.
A reaction.
An evolutionary development. Or sometimes, something they just love to do … which in Otis’ case, was sweeping – be it the floors of home, cafes or even Shanghai streets. Which he has DEFINITELY grown out of. Unfortunately, ha.
But as they get older, these traits evolve in more ‘unique’ ways – and yet are still utterly adorable.
For example, right now Otis is in the ‘moments of cringe’ phase of his development. Or should I say, I am igniting that in him.
It could be because of a song I’m listening to … a program I’ve watched … a phrase I’ve said … but the result is him laughing his infectious, cheeky laugh and telling me how cringe that is.
And you know what? I love it and I think he loves it too because in a weird kinda way, it’s a bonding moment between us.
Something that’s ours and no one else.
But I also love it because it reveals his growing independence, evolution and frame of reference and surely, if there is any ‘marker’ for a parent to check if they’re doing their part OK, it’s that?
So to my wonderful, delightful, brilliant son, I say this.
Dear Otis.
Congratulations on hitting double digits – it’s a big moment in anyone’s life.
And while you may feel it’s taken you an age to get here, don’t wish things away too quick.
You’re a brilliant kid.
Not just in who you are, but how you are …
Stubborn on the right things, effervescent in everything else.
That’s about as perfect a combination as anyone could hope for …
It means you don’t spend so much of your time looking forwards you fail to see all you can squeeze out of the present.
The weird, the silly, the wonderful and the ridiculous.
That stuff matters.
Not just for enjoying now, but for getting the most out of the long life of double figures ahead.
So keep doing all you’re doing, because you’re playing it great.
The good, the bad, the happy and the hard.
Dealing with life with honesty and grace.
No arrogance or distain, just consideration and deliberation that belies your years.
A desire to do the right thing, even when you occasionally find yourself having done the wrong.
It’s an honourable way to live and we’re lucky to be witnesses to it.
So keep playing your own rhythm.
Don’t let others try and drown you out with their melodies and noise.
We’re so very proud of who you are and excited to see who you will become.
So enjoy those double digits, but don’t start acting quite like them yet.
There’s a lot for you to leave your mark on today, as well as tomorrow.
Happy birthday, dear Otis.
We love the hell out of you.
Mum and Dad
xxx
Filed under: Australia, Authenticity, Colenso, Colleagues, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Dad, Death, Emotion, Family, Fatherhood, Friendship, HSBC, Love, Loyalty, Management, Relationships, Relevance, Reputation, Resonance, Respect
As you read this, I am in Sydney for the memorial of Lisa – the wonderful client who tragically died recently.
It is believed there will be a lot of people attending.
I mean 4-figure levels of attendees … which is testimony to the impact she made on people.
While I didn’t know her long, we bonded pretty deeply and I saw first hand her ability to connect to people. It was in many ways, her superpower. Not in the sense it was some sort of manipulative trick, but in the sense she saw the good in others and wanted to help them realise it in ways they may not have seen was possible.
But she did it time and time again.
Different people.
Different cities.
Different jobs.
We need more people like that.
People who give rather than just take.
People who share rather than just keep.
People who view success as helping others achieve, not just elevating their own glory.
But what made her truly special was that she didn’t play down to populism, she lived up to a standard.
She wanted to do great, she wanted others to be great and she had the experience and taste to know what both were.
That’s the essential ingredient missing from so many people in the industry – especially the Linkedin guru’s – but she had it in her droves.
I’m still utterly distraught about her passing. We all are.
She didn’t just make the work better, she made you want to be better and as talents go, that’s a pretty amazing one.
Relationships are strange.
You can know some people for decades and not really be impacted by their presence and there’s some you can meet for what seems like a moment in time, and be impacted by them for years. Decades even.
Lisa was in the latter and that’s why, from a purely selfish level, I feel robbed.
Robbed of the time I was going to have with her.
Robbed of the conversations and lessons I’d have learned with her.
Robbed of the possibilities and opportunities I’d have created with her.
I appreciate it feels crass to say this when there are people who have lost so much more with her passing. My intention is not to offend and if I’ve done that, I apologies wholeheartedly. This is just my very clumsy attempt to say that if Lisa could make a relative stranger feel so strongly towards her – as a person and a professional – in just 4 short months, then I cannot imagine the sense of loss the people who knew her … worked with her … and loved her for much longer are feeling.
And to them, I offer my deepest and sincerest condolences.
She may be gone, but my god … she won’t be forgotten.
I’m back tomorrow to celebrate my dear Otis’ 10th birthday.
Death and birth …
A reminder the circle of life is real, even if it feels cruel.
And with that, I say goodbye and thank you to Lisa.
For everything you did and all that you were.
I feel very fortunate to have known you.
Rx
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Jill, Love, Loyalty, My Childhood, Otis, Paula, Rosie, Singapore
As you all know, we recently lost our beloved Rosie.
I bloody loved that cat. Still do.
In many ways, she was my first ‘proper’ pet. We got her in Singapore because Jill – who had always had animals – was desperate to have one again.
We had resisted for a while for a couple of reasons.
1. We were in the early days of our relationship … don’t forget, we moved to Singapore together mere weeks after we met in Australia.
2. We didn’t know how long we’d be in Singapore and so were worried about the challenges of moving and taking the pet with us.
Obviously. we got past both of those as we’ve just celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary and Rosie moved to 7 different countries … but the point is, our little Singaporean street cat went from ‘satisfying Jill’s ‘pet’ need’ [even though she’d always had dogs and so a cat was our compromise – based more on practicality than preference] to igniting my ‘family love’.
I don’t say that lightly …
You see, there was a chance Jill and I may not have been able to have kids and as traumatic as that would have been for us, having Rosie helped me realise there were other ways my desire to be ‘a parent’ could be fulfilled.
Which explains why I was overjoyed when Otis was born and so devastated when Rosie died.
But even though our cat was a small little thing, her presence was huge and so our house – as I wrote previously – feels less alive.
A different sort of energy.
A bit too much space.
A little less noise.
We had talked about getting another cat, but it all felt too soon.
As if we would be disrespecting Rosie.
Made worse by the concern we’d want it to replicate Rosie rather than let its own personality reign.
Add to that Otis’ budgie – Sky – and the realization a new cat wouldn’t show it the same patience Rosie did and it just didn’t seem to make sense to get another cat. For now.
So slowly, the idea of a dog has started to make sense.
It’s not that I don’t love dogs – if truth be told, I was probably a dog person before we had Rosie – but the reality is they’re more work and harder [read: more expensive] to move countries.
And we will be moving countries, probably at least twice in the next few years.
But there has definitely been a 4-legged animal sized space missing in the house and I don’t like that.
And neither does Jill or Otis.
If Jill had her way, she’d fill the house with animals.
Chickens, sheep, horses, dogs, cats … you name it, she’d have it.
And for 10+ years, Paula bloody Bloodworth has been telling/bullying me to get a dog.
But at the end of the day, a pet isn’t about ‘convenience’, it’s about what it adds to the family … and given Otis has dysgraphia and some anxiety issues, a dog would be more than just a member of our family, it could be a special buddy for him.
And I want that for Otis.
I want him to live a life where he feels he is equipped to thrive.
Which is all my way of saying, this …
No, it’s not a dog … but it’s in preparation of a dog.
And as much as you may think I am the sort of idiot who would buy an Audi ‘car seat dog seat’ because I buy shit from Audi … I’ve actually got it because we’re getting a dog.
Deposit paid and everything.
Now it won’t be until early in the new year, but it’s happening and I’ve resigned myself to the consequences.
Because for all the disruption they may cause … for all the walking I’ll have to do … for all the costs they’ll incur … they’ll still give us more than they take and that means its an investment rather than a cost.
Even though it will bloody cost us, haha.
And while one day we may well get a cat to add to the fam, I look forward to our house once again radiating an energy greater than the sum of us as well as be grateful I got healthy over the past year so walking will be a pleasure, not an agony.
Filed under: Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Collaboration, Colleagues, Communication Strategy, Craft, Creative Brief, Creative Development, Creativity, Leadership, Love, Loyalty, New Zealand, Paula, Perspective, Planners, Planning, Play, Point Of View, Provocative, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, Respect
So here we are. December.
9 days to my beloved son Otis’ 10th birthday.
18 days to the last blog post of 2024.
23 days to the festive season.
30 days to 2025.
Bloody hell. I mean … if I thought the last 11 months have gone fast, how quick are the next 30 days going to go? Worse, how quick will the gloriously long New Zealand summer holiday fly past.
ARGHHHHHH.
OK, before I wish everything away before I’ve had a chance to do it – and acknowledging I can’t write my ‘year in review’ post quite yet – I’m going to dedicate today’s post to my mob at Colenso.
Not Colenso – they will get that later – but my planning mob.
God they’re annoying.
A bunch of banter-loving, fault exposing, pricks.
But you know what else they are?
Smart, funny, caring, curious humans. All of them. Even the dodgy ones … of which there’s definitely more than one.
As I’ve written many times before, I’ve always been very lucky with the teams I’ve got to work with. Sure, there have been a couple who have been toxic wankers, but given I’ve been in this industry longer than dinosaurs, I take that as a massive win.
What I’ve loved about all of them is that rather than know interesting things, they’ve done – and do – interesting things. I adore that. I value that. I deeply respect their ability to jump head first into stuff and then naively tell me about what they did and what didn’t work in the naive belief I won’t hold it against them for the rest of their days.
They keep me young and make me old.
They teach me and frustrate me.
They challenge and want to be challenged.
But most of all, they give a fuck.
About the work.
The job.
The standards and each other.
That doesn’t mean it’s a love-fest, oh no … there’s competition. But when the chips are down, they’ll do whatever needs to be done to look after each other. And I mean that … because I’ve seen that. A lot.
Does this mean they’re perfect?
Hell no.
Can they be better at what they do?
Absofuckinglutely … but then, regardless who you are or however long you’ve been doing this, you can be.
Even Paula Bloodworth and she’s as near perfect as anyone I’ve ever met, let alone had the pleasure of working with.
But can you find a better bunch of humans?
Well that would be pushing it.
And the good thing about that is in my experience, the best people in this industry – by that, I mean those who consistently create the best work and ideas – tend to be great humans who just so happen to work in this industry.
They have varied lives, varied backgrounds and varied interests.
What makes them interesting is not simply how they think, but how they live in the world.
At a time where strategic thinking is seemingly being forced into an evermore formulaic approach, this gang of brilliant fools are all – in their own way – trying to break that apart.
It doesn’t always work. It doesn’t always go far enough. But where so many in the industry crave the comfort of the tropes and tribes of strategy, this bunch like to play in the messiness of life.
Or said another way …
They get that interesting lives lead to interesting thinking. Which is why they believe more in the power of creativity than whatever the latest framework, format or buzzword that is being banged on about on Linkedin by someone who has never made anything of note.
I love that about them.
I love we believe in a planning identify more than a process.
And we’re pretty good …
Good enough to have won Global Effies, Grand Prix’s and WARC awards.
Not as one offs, but on going.
Not bad for a teeny-tiny agency on the other side of the planet.
So to Martin, Meg, Gi, Augustine, Tobbi, Emma, Lizzie, T, Syd, James, Caitlin, newbie India – and not forgetting Amy – thank you. For being who you are, for turning down all the agencies who keep trying to hire you [oh I know which agencies you are and what you tried to do – cue: evil laugh ] … but most of all, for putting up with all my HR-violation shit.
Enjoy this, it literally will never happen again.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Age, Agency Culture, Apathy, Aspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Creative Development, Creativity, Culture, Delusion, Distinction, Diversity, Emotion, Inclusion, Love, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Mum & Dad, Planners, Politics, Prejudice, Provocative, Relevance, Reputation, Resonance, Respect
I can’t believe next week we enter the final month of 2024.
How the hell did that happen?
My god, it’s been a whirlwind and while I’ll write my annual ‘wrap-up’ post in a few weeks, I have to say – bar three truly tragic events for me – a pretty good year.
I don’t take any of that for granted.
I know it could all fall apart in an instant.
Which may explain why I follow certain theories/behaviours/beliefs that – despite knowing they’re likely utter nonsense – help me feel I’m doing things that encourage ‘good stuff’ to happen for me and my family.
Or should I say, ‘extend’ the good stuff that my family get to enjoy.
That’s right, I’m talking about certain superstitions that I follow.
I won’t go into them in detail for fear of the men in the white suits popping around to put me in a jacket with no sleeves, but on top of working hard, doing what I promise and staying interested and open to stuff … they heavily influence and drive my actions and behaviours in equal measure.
Now I should point out the driving force of this is less about maintaining an income [though that is there, of course] and more about satisfying my curiosity and hunger.
You see, despite being 54, I’m still fiercely ambitious and hungry to do new, exciting and good things. In fact – given the stuff I’ve been fortunate to do over the past few years with moving countries and working with artists in the music, fashion and gaming industries – even more ambitious and hungry than I’ve ever been.
Of course I appreciate I’ve done a bunch of stuff but as I’ve written before, the more I do … the more I discover things I want to do. The problem is, the older you get, the more you know you won’t be able to do everything and so you want to try and ensure your time is spent on the stuff that fulfils you rather than drains you.
I get some people may read this and think I’m a fucking idiot. And I get it … because the basic narrative that is pushed out is the older you get, the less passion you have.
Hell, companies have used that as an excuse to get rid of experience for decades.
Worse, for a long time I believed that view too …
But what I’ve learned is that in many cases, it’s not the passion that gets tired, but the tolerance for bullshit.
The politics.
The processes.
The procedures.
The shiny-new-things.
The hang-on-to-the-old-things.
Corporate bullshit is endless.
And while I’m not suggesting people actively enjoy subjecting you to it – nor am I claiming all of it is pointless – I understand why so many people choose to walk away from it.
Which is all my way of saying how fortunate I consider myself …
Because while I have faced a bunch of bullshit in my time, the vast majority of my career has been working for – or with – people/companies and brands who value the work more than the politics. Who choose creativity over complicity. Who value what you do rather than devalue how old you are.
And that means at 54, the bullshit hasn’t won.
It may one day, but it hasn’t yet.
And that means I don’t just get to keep working with talent regardless of age, heritage, geography or discipline. Nor just get to learn, collaborate and create with people from all walks of life and from all fields of creativity – united by our desire to make something really fucking good, rather than something ‘good enough’. It means I get to keep enjoying it … being inspired by it and bringing my own energy and creativity to it.
So while there’ll be people out there who’ll make more money, have more things, possess bigger job titles or career positions than I’ll ever have … and while there may well come a time where the possibilities I see will be possibilities someone else has to realise … I can feel I beat the bullshit.
And while many won’t understand that.
Or even agree with that.
For a kid whose parents instilled in him the importance of living a life of fulfilment rather than contentment, it means that should I ever get to meet Mum and Dad again, I can thank them for teaching me stubbornness isn’t a fault, when done right, it’s an enduring gift.