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


The Best Part Of Me Isn’t Me …

A few weeks ago, Otis – my son – graduated from preschool.

I’ve got to be honest, I don’t quite get the preschool graduation thing.

Yes it’s a sort-of school, but it’s basically long playtime where you get to piss about with your mates – which is a bit like working in adland, but with less alcohol. Hopefully.

Anyway, whatever it is, Otis graduated which means the next stage is him embarking on his journey of real education.

I can’t believe it.

It seems only 5 minutes ago he was born.

But there he was … graduating for the first time in his life.

I don’t mind telling you I look at my little boy with such pride and love.

He has gone through a lot …

Living in 3 radically different countries – exemplified by the above photo shows him born in Shanghai, starting preschool in LA and finishing it all in London – saying goodbye to people of huge significance in his life, having to start things over again and again, watching his Dad crumble after seeing his beloved mum die, going through an operation … and yet through it all, he has approached life with a sense of optimism, mischief, happiness and curiosity that would put many older people to shame.

Part of this is because he’s just a loving and compassionate kid. Part of this is because he has family who bloody adore him. But part of this is the insane kindness and generosity that people around the world have shown him simply because they have watched him grow through my billions of social media pics.

The reality is Otis has brought more to my life than I could ever have imagined.

Not just in terms of love and happiness … but also in terms of lessons for life.

He has made everything unquestionably richer for both his amazing Mum and me and so as I tried not to cry as I watched him get his significant – but utterly pointless – certificate, I felt insanely proud of him.

Not for what he has achieved, but for who he is.

Congratulations Otis, you’re an epic little boy.

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Home Away From Home …

So I’m back.

I survived and no one died.

I have to say that while I love China, Beijing is not my favourite place in the World.

It’s also one of the most user-unfriendly … with everything located miles apart and the heat being utterly oppressive.

But that country still has my heart.

Every time I go there, I leave with an ache.

It will forever be a very special place to me.

Not just because Otis was born there.

Or that – in some ways – it changed my career forever.

Or my wife found a group of people that gave her a greater sense of community than she’d had in decades.

Nor even the fact I was there at one of the pivotal times in its modern history.

It’s just because in all the crazy of the country, I felt I found my spiritual home.

I appreciate that sounds mental.

Even my Chinese friends can’t work out why I love it so much.

But I do.

The people are warm, fascinating and interesting.

The culture is rich with history, modernity, complexity and beauty.

The hunger and ambition is unparalleled with anywhere I’ve been to prior or since.

I love the sense of connection and isolation that China makes me feel about myself.

That sense of returning to a place I truly felt was home for 7 wonderful years while also realizing that period might as well have been 10,000 years ago given how quick the country has changed.

And while I acknowledge there are some very questionable decisions being made by the leaders right now – decisions that undermine the potential of millions – the people within the country have been nothing but kind and compassionate to me and my family and for that, they will always have my heart.

Wherever my family are will always be the definition of home for me.

But China is the one place where that rule has some flexibility in it.

Which is the greatest compliment I could ever give a country, though if I still dislike Beijing.



Nouveau Cuisine. Nottingham Style …

Yes, what you’re looking at is a piece of chocolate inside a bread roll.

Also known as my dinner.

Now I appreciate this might make you feel ill – it made Jill actually gag – but I bloody loved it and I don’t mind admitting it.

I have a strange relationship with food.

Basically, my pallet is rubbish … as I find everyday grub far tastier and more enjoyable than the nice stuff I get served when I go to a fancy restaurant for work.

I have a theory behind it …

You see my Mum and Dad ensured I grew up eating healthy, nutritious food.

Given we didn’t have much cash, there was no eating out except for birthdays and a treat was a once-in-a-blue-moon trip to the fish and chip shop.

Then – when I was old enough to go out on my own – I discovered a World of shitty food. A World of choice where I could have anything I wanted as opposed to my World being whatever my Mum and Dad wanted me to have.

In some respects, shitty food was my act of rebellion given I didn’t ever try cigarettes or drugs.

I still remember the look of disappointment my Mum gave me when I bought a can of Heinz Spaghetti Bolognaise from Asda … though on that one, she was well within her Italian rights and I’m grateful she didn’t disown me.

Which leads to how I live …

Asking for economy food on a plane even when I fly at the privlidged pointy end or, as the picture shows, thinking a piece of chocolate in a bread roll has Michelin star potential.

Of course I am not a total lunatic.

I know I can’t live like this all the time.

I’d like to … but I can’t … especially if I want to see my son grow up and set him on a path of healthy eating for the rest of his life.

So while I’ll eat tons of greens and lean meat and vegetables of every description, the reality is that every time I chew, my brain wishes it was a chocolate sandwich.

Christ I’m pathetic.



A Message To My Little Boy …

A friend of mine who is gay is writing a book about how straight people would react if their child told them they were gay.

I wrote this:

If my son turns to me and says he’s gay, I would hug him and tell him I loved him and that I hope he finds someone who makes him happy.

If my son told me he had found a man that made him truly happy, I would hug him and tell him I am so excited for him and can’t wait to meet him.

If my son told me he had met the man of his dreams and told me he wanted to get married, I would probably cry tears of joy and say I am proud

I mean every single word of that … and yet, despite it being 2019, the LGBTQ+ community continue to face constant harassment and exclusion.

This scares me to death because as a parent, I would never want my son to suffer for his sexual preferences. And no one should.

While society has come a long way, we haven’t come far enough which is why being an ally to those who are forced to live in the shadows has never been so important.

You don’t have to become their best friend.

You don’t have to spend all your time together.

But letting them know you see them as a peer and believe in their right to live without oppression will help the progress we’ve made, keep moving forward so that one day, if my child – or yours – announces they are gay, you can celebrate them for being true to who they are rather than worrying about how others will treat them for who they are.



My Sort Of Inspiration …
July 1, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Otis

It’s the first of July.

JULY!

How the hell did that happen?

So to set it off with the sense of optimism we should all have for the upcoming month of [alleged] sun … here is a photo of my son walking past a bookshops sign with the sort of message that should make sure we don’t take any of it for granted.




A Love Letter To China’s Wonderful, Beautiful, Brilliant Chaos …

Of all the places I’ve lived, China is the one that has left the strongest mark.

Frankly I absolutely and utterly loved my time there.

Sure part of that was because of Wieden – I loved and will always love them – but it was more than just that.

It was the people, the madness, the history, the chaos, the energy, the values …

Yes there were some things that bothered me immensely, but overall, I was intoxicated with the place and will always be that way.

I believe you can tell how much a place gets into your soul by how you react when it’s under attack. Not by guns, but by media and politicians.

If I look back on my 7 years there, I was very quick to jump to its defense when Western media decided to take an isolated incident and claim it represented the beliefs, behaviors and values of over a billion people.

Were there some shit things that happened there when I was there?

Absolutely.

Were there moments of madness and sadness that will never leave my memory?

100%

Are there some terrible restrictions on people lives and opinions there?

Sure.

But these are not isolated to China … every country has bad people doing horrific things, every country is creating an increasing division between rich and poor and in terms of government, countries either are doing their own version of ‘inflicting their will on the people’ or wishing they could get away with the stuff the Chinese government get away with.

I’m looking at you UK, Australia and the land of ‘the free’.

And that’s why I can still truly love the place and feel privileged for the experience it gave me.

I have absolute pride my son was born there.

Whatever happens in his life, he was born in China and for me, that means our links to the country will always be strong.

And while I will always be passionate in the pursuit of changing Westerners perceptions about the Middle Kingdom, there are some things that I just stand back and accept will just reinforce certain prejudices.

Some – like Uncle Martian – are terrible, especially as it was a conscious decision.

Some – like this, below – are perfection, especially as they were done in innocence.

[And if not, that’s even more genius]

China, I love you.

Lose the bullshit but please never lose your beautiful madness.



A Different Sort Of Childhood …
May 24, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, London, My Fatherhood, Otis

Believe it or not, the image above comes from a kids park.

A kids park in England.

No ‘lost in translation’.

No ‘adult entertainment’ overtones.

3 words of which two relate to subjects parents tend to not want to encourage their kids to engage in public … shooting and pooing … even less doing them together.

How times have changed …

In other news, my weekend looks like it’s going to be messy.

And potentially smelly.

Especially as it’s a long weekend.

Have a good one.

See you Tuesday.