The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


February 19, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: Comment, Dad, Family, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Silvana

Outside of my Mum and Dad and my best friend Paul, Auntie Silvana has been involved my life the longest.

From my earliest age, I remember her always being there – whether that was arguing with my dad about politics or showing us around London on one of our frequent trips to visit her.

Despite facing many challenges in her life, Auntie Silvana – like her sister – was a fiercely independent woman. She never wanted to rely on someone else for help which is why she could be incredibly stubborn if she disagreed with something someone was trying to make her do. But when I think of her, the memories that flood my mind are of an incredibly kind, incredibly considerate, humble yet generous person.

She only ever wanted the best for others. She would encourage you every step of the way. And when you achieved something – however small – she would celebrate it with genuine happiness and celebration … never wanting or expecting anything in return.

There are so many things I am thankful to Auntie Silvana for. From giving me my first ever television to taking me to my first theatre show to helping my family when we needed it most.

She was a wonderful, kind, worldly and cultured lady and while I am devastated she has gone, there are 3 things I am grateful for.

1. She was able to continue living an independent life till the end. Given her eye problems, that’s testimony to her tenactity.

2. I am able to be here to let her know how much I loved her and how much my wife, Jill and my 4 year old little boy – Otis (who called her ‘Auntie Nana’) – did as well. I will forever be grateful she got to hold my son given my Mum sadly passed away before she could meet him in real life.

3. I am able to repesent my Mum and Dad – who are no longer here but would absolutely want to be if they were around – so they could share their love for her and say thank you for all you did.

Silvana, you were an amazing Auntie to me.
An amazing sister to my Mum.
And an amazing friend to my Dad.

Words will never be able to capture how much I thought of you and while the pain of your loss will last a long, long time … the memory of you will last far longer.

The World is a little less kind for your loss.

I’m happy you can be reunited with your family.

Say hi to Mum for me and thank you for everything.

Tanti Baci.

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My Dearest Silvana …
February 18, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: Family, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Silvana

So on Saturday, my Auntie Silvana passed away.

She was an incredibly kind and generous person but – like my Mum, who was her younger sister – she was also fiercely independent.

A few weeks ago she suffered an illness and sadly, while there were some positive signs, she ultimately succumbed to her ailments.

I am devastated for so many reasons.

The main one is obviously that she’s my Aunt.

She loved me and always wanted the best for me, Jill and Otis.

The second is she was incredibly kind to my family, especially Mum – who loved her so much.

During my early years, she was almost like a guardian angel to us when we encountered some tough times.

The final reason is that she is the last of her generation …

The last link to a group of wonderful people who defined so much of who I am.

While I am happy she is no longer in pain or suffering, I am so, so sad that she has gone.

Her loss will be felt for so long but her memory will last a lifetime.

Goodbye Auntie Silvana. Love you.

Rx

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Twenty Years In The Blink Of An Eye …
January 16, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Mum, Mum & Dad, Parents

So 20 years ago today, my wonderful Dad died.

That means 40+% of my life has been without him.

That’s mind-blowing … but it’s also testimony to his brilliance as a Dad, that I think of him every day.

The older I get, the more I understand what he – and Mum – taught me.

The way to look at life.

The things to encourage and believe in.

The need to always life a life of fulfillment rather than contentment.

Amazing, valuable, brilliant lessons that he was able to bake into me in such a way that they continue to grow in importance, even though he has been gone for 20 years.

The good news is that I have started to remember him when he was healthy rather than ill.

For so many years when I thought of Dad, I saw how he was over his final few years rather than the years before his stroke.

But even then he was an inspiration.

His ability to try and be positive even when his entire life was falling apart.

To stay strong for his son when he knew he was trapped in a prison of the mind.

I love my Dad so much.

I would give anything to see him again.

Talk. Ask questions. Introduce him to my family.

See his eyes glisten with mischief and love.

Dad was someone who ensured I can look at my childhood with the feelings of love and support – something, that as I get older, I realize was not something everyone can say – which is why 20 years later, I might miss him even more than when he first passed away.

Which – when you come to think of it – might be the best compliment I can give him.

I miss you Dad. Hope you and Mum are together and happy.

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Humanity From A Calculator Company …

So how was your first week?

I don’t mean being back at work, I mean reading this blog.

Depressing wasn’t it.

Well I want to leave you with a little bit of positivity.

As many of you know, my Mum helped develop the calculator that is pictured above.

It’s one of the reasons why I’ve continued to use the one she gave me for the past 35+ years.

That – and the fact I’m crap at maths – so ended up using it more to type 55378008 than work out any trigonometry challenge.

Or basic addition.

Anyway, to my mates, it’s as identifiable towards me as my Birkenstocks – even though when I was at school, they took the piss claiming it was as big as one of the BBC Micro Computers we used in class.

Sadly, when we were moving to London from LA, the stupid movers broke it.

Not just interns of it not working, but in terms of cracking the actual case.

I was very sad, because – like the Braun Bedside Clock – it was something that was a real connection to my parents, so I wrote to Texas Instruments on the off-chance they could fix it.

Unfortunately they said any attempt to repair it could cause more damage so instead they’re sending me a mint condition, new-old one as a tribute to my Mum.

I cannot tell you how happy and thankful I was to hear this news.

I cannot tell you how much I love the people at Texas Instruments.

A company that makes office tech showing more heart than companies that claim to be in the people business.

They didn’t have to do that.

They could have just ignored my email altogether.

But they didn’t, they listened and they tried to help.

We could all learn from this. Especially companies who claim to be in the people business.



Till Next Year …

So this is the final post of the year.

It’s been a big year for me and the family.

Then again, it was a big year for the family last year too.

However, whereas 2017 saw us leave Shanghai and Wieden+Kennedy – something that was truly emotional for all of us – 2018 has seen us go from sunny LA, working at Deutsch, living in a house by the beach and driving a custom made Audi to being citizens of cold and rainy London, living in a much smaller house in Fulham, working at R/GA [with some sprinkles of Metallica madness in-between] and traveling by tube to and from everywhere.

And we haven’t been this happy in ages.

Don’t get me wrong, there are things we definitely miss from our life in the US – people, the weather, Otis’ school, free soda refills and bacon mainly – but this move was right for us for a whole host of reasons, personal and professional, and we enter 2019 with the full expectation we’ll still be here when 2020 comes around.

I hope.

It’s funny, when I read the final post I wrote for last year, it is apparent that change was in our minds. We didn’t think that openly, but it seems it was there.

Of course, moving to a country and then leaving in just over a year is not the best thing.

It’s financial stupidity for one.

But these things happen and we are very happy for the amazing experience, though I must admit I’m even happier my wife, son and cat are still talking to me.

Fools.

But while our environment has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same.

Your ability to trash everything I write on here, for one.

And to you all, I say a huge thank you.

Sure, being told I’m a bad dressing, musically ignorant, gadget tosser every-single-day can get a bit tiring, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because amongst the insults, there’s often pearls of gold in there.

Stuff that makes me think about things a different way.

Stuff that influences how I think about things I never thought about.

Stuff that just keeps me on my toes and interested about stuff.

And I love it.

I love that people come here and share a bit of their time and opinion with me.

Yes, I appreciate moving to the UK and still posting at 6am is screwing up the flow of the comments given the East Coast of America is asleep and can’t insult/join-in until much later … but the fact so many people still write makes me feel very fortunate.

While I have loved the ability to move countries and cultures so many times – and hope to continue doing it, just not for a bit – the reality is that is makes your friendship network difficult.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very fortunate we have technology to keep me in touch with the wonderful people I’ve met in every country we’ve lived [whether they like it or not] and this year I got to catch up with people I’ve not seen in years – from Freddie to Paula – but there is something about having a level of constancy that makes you feel settled.

Bizarrely, this blog has provided me with a bit of that.

Even with people I have still yet to meet.

[Though I met Marcus and Neil Perkin this year and that made me so happy]

While I would never suggest I am your friend, you have been to me – in many ways and at many times, both at moments of darkness and happiness – and I want to take this opportunity to say thank you.

To all of you.

Even you Andy.

When I started this blog way back in May 2006, I never expected anyone to read it, let alone comment so the fact some of you still are – regardless that many Police officers would call it abuse – I’m grateful.

I’m excited about next year.

It will be big.

Not because we’ll be moving … or I’ll changing job … but new things will be entering my life.

From my beloved Otis starting proper school – which literally is screwing with my head – to the much-talked-about-but-not-much-actually-done Weigel/Campbell officially doing its thing in addition to the exciting adventures and exploits my wonderfully beautiful family, my bloody amazing friends and fantastic new planning team will get up to that will make me feel even luckier than I do already.

Being back in England has had a much bigger effect on me than I ever imagined it would.

I am grateful for it.

I am grateful for all I have.

I hope this holiday season and 2019 is one that is wonderful for you all too.

See you in a few weeks. [Yeah, don’t think you get so lucky to not have me come back]



Happy At Home …

So it’s 2 months since we’ve been back in England and I have to say it’s been great.

Sure, the weather isn’t like LA.

Sure, finding a home and unpacking was a pain-in-the arse.

Sure, catching the tube is not like driving my beloved Audi to work.

Sure, I’m shocked at how bad the service is in restaurants and how many people smoke.

But all that aside, things are great.

There’s a bunch of reasons for that …

The first is my family are all together and well. Even Rosie, the moaning cat.

Seeing how brilliant Otis has adapted to his new environment [again] is inspiring, even though it has highlighted how much of an American twang he picked up in our time in the US.

To move home is a traumatic experience for anyone.

To move countries is often too much for people to even contemplate.

So to have moved home and country, 3 times when you’re only 3 years of age – and still be happy, positive and curious – is an incredible achievement and one that makes me even prouder of my wonderful little boy.

That said, we’re very mindful he is still trying to find where he belongs … find other kids he can form a connection with … so our job in these early months is to help him feel as settled and secure as we can, but so far, he’s handling it far better than we could ever hope, even though he did exactly the same when we landed in LA after Shanghai.

What a kid.

Another reason we’re enjoying things in England is that there’s an incredible familiarity to how things work.

Sure I’ve not lived here for 24 years and Jill is Australian … but we both have spent a huge amount of time here over the years so there’s a comfort in knowing how to make things happen. It’s allowed us to acclimatise to the new environment far quicker than we have in other nations while still feeling the buzz of excitement of being somewhere new.

Sure, there’s nervousness about some things we’ve never/rarely had to deal with before.

The school system and how insane that is here.

The inability to be confident a tradesman will turn up as promised.

The high price of public transport [which is still low, but comparatively high to say, China]

But all that is offset with the incredible culture that surrounds us, the friendliness of the people we’ve met and just being in a place where we can see ourselves for a good length of time.

Oh, and chips, mushy peas and gravy.

God, that’s magic right there.

But one other thing that has made things so great is work.

I’m really enjoying myself.

I have an incredible team full of smarts and opinions.

I have a huge array of colleagues full of creativity and provocation.

I have a bunch of clients full of fascinating challenges and ambitions.

I’m learning.

I’m being challenged.

I’m [hopefully] contributing.

There were a bunch of reasons why we moved countries – both personal and professional – and while no place will ever be perfect, I’m pretty shocked at how much I am enjoying being back in England given I never thought I’d ever move back.

I still wish I could nip up to Nottingham to see Mum and Dad.

I still wish Paul and Shelly lived down the street not 2 hours away.

But as much as I’ll always be a cynical bastard, I’m pretty happy right now and I’m sure that is as shocking to you as it is to me.

So on this bombshell of positivity, I wish you a good weekend and let you know that the APSOTW results will finally be out next week.

Ta-ra.



Fathers Pride …
August 23, 2018, 6:15 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Family, Mum & Dad

Dave Grohl.

One of the founders of Nirvana.

Founder of The Foo Fighters.

Drummer. Guitarist. Singer.

He’s the rock star everyone likes even if they don’t like his songs.

Permanently positive, continually upbeat with a dollop of mischievousness thrown in for good measure.

He cares deeply about his fans … whether that’s playing a festival in Italy after someone sent him a video of a bunch of musicians playing ne of his songs or just inviting people on stage to play with the band.

But there’s something not everyone knows and that’s how good a dad he is.

For example, come rain or snow, Dave Grohl takes his kids to school and picks them up again.

Every single day.

In his family wagon.

No glitz, no glamour, just as normal a family life that an international rock star can give his kids.

Of course, there’s the odd exception.

When his kids school was having a fundraiser, he played a private concert there with Paul Stanley of KISS and Sammy Hagar, ex-Van Halen.

However recently, he has started to introduce his kids to the wider World.

Not in some fame hungry way, but in terms of letting them express their own musical talent.

At a recent concert in Oakland, Los Angeles, he played back-up musician to Violet – his 12 year old daughter – as she sang Adele’s ‘When We Were Young’.

Putting aside her incredible voice, it’s the various looks of utter pride he has on his face as he witnesses his daughter invigorate a crowd with her flawless vocals.

I love how he doesn’t try to take the spotlight.

I love how he has a huge grin on his face when she hits the high notes perfectly.

I love how he knows her voice is better than his and he’s so proud of that fact.

I imagine it’s similar to how Robert Plant felt when he watched Heart perform Stairway To Heaven at the Kennedy Centre and realised he had done something that would outlive him.

I have to admit, it brought tears to my eyes.

I look at my precious boy – Otis – and wonder if that will ever happen to me.

Where I get to witness him express his passion, in some way. Whatever it is.

I hope so.

I don’t say that because I worry he might not have a passion, I say it because I worry I may go before he discovers it.

Being an older Dad brings with it a whole bunch of worries and insecurities.

I don’t regret it because I wasn’t ready for it before, but being 48 years old and having a father who died at 60, there is a nagging worry that I may only have 12 more years left.

Of course I know the age of my Dad does not mean that will be the age I die, but I worry …

I want to see Otis grow up.

Sure, there’s a big part of me that thinks he’s doing that too quickly already, but I long to see him do things that he is passionate about. I long to experience that uncontrollable smile as I witness my little boy do things he loves.

And that’s why the video of Dave Grohl and his daughter really hit me.

Because I know that whatever success he has achieved in his life as a rockstar, it won’t be as amazing as him seeing his daughter live her truth.