Archive for the ‘Ramblings’ Category
Thursday, November 3rd, 2011
Let me tell you a story.
Six years ago my girlfriend at the time did something stupid.
She resigned.
She didn’t resign from a dead end job. She wasn’t working for minimum wage in some grotty cafe. She didn’t hate her employers.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
She worked in The City for a swanky architecture and design practice. She got the job after seeing an ad in The Guardian. Over a thousand people applied for that job, and she got it.
And then she quit.
She quit and joined a tiny education start-up. She was the third person to join. This start-up had a generic, tiny office in a place where loads of tiny start-ups exist. They had no funding, no students, no courses, no logo, no website.
But she still left her big, impressive job in The City for this tiny start-up. And she dedicated the next five and a half years of her life to making that tiny start-up one of the most important things to happen to Suffolk for a long time.
She is my wife, and that tiny start-up was University Campus Suffolk.
Six years ago, I was in a dead end insurance job. I hated every godforsaken minute of it. And my wife pushed me to be better; to do something I really wanted to do.
Today, I have a business that I love, where I get to work with some truly talented and wonderful people.
One of those people graduated from University Campus Suffolk today. Well done, Luke.
This post isn’t intended to be self-congratulatory. If you think it is, you’re wrong.
Instead, this post is the proof that you can make a difference. It is a testimonial for doing something you really want to do, no matter how foolish anybody thinks you are.
What are you going to be doing in six years? Something that you love or something that you hate?
Today could be the day that you might make a change.
Wednesday, April 13th, 2011
I turn twenty-nine tomorrow. Happy birthday to me.
These anniversaries in life feel like suitable times to reflect on the past and speculate on the future.
I achieved a fair bit aged twenty-eight.
James and I have built a business with a six-figure turnover.
With the help of Jen, I’ve started running (and completed a few 10k circuits around Alton Water).
Bill, Clarkey and I gave up smoking on New Year’s Day. I haven’t had a puff since.
And most importantly, my wife and I are expecting our first child in less than ten weeks.
Twenty-eight has taught me that if you want to do things that are difficult but ultimately worthwhile, it makes sense not to do them alone.
Success and happiness are a bit on the rubbish side if you’ve nobody to share them with.
The plan for year twenty-nine, then: surround myself with more brilliant people who love making things happen.
And believe me, the plan is in place.
Friday, April 1st, 2011
I’m writing this from my bed. It’s just gone ten o’clock on a Friday night.
Maybe I should be out drinking copious amounts of lager before throwing a fiery curry down my neck.
But I’m not.
I’m under the covers, tapping away on my iPhone; blogging for nobody in particular.
And it’s not because I’ve fallen out of love with booze and a lamb jalfrezi. It’s simply that Fridays lose their appeal when you really love what you do.
I used to hate my job. (Insurance, if you didn’t know.) I was bored stiff from Monday to Friday, staring at Excel spreadsheets, sending emails, and adhering to mind-numbing protocols.
So Friday nights were a release. The frustration of being in a job I hated would fuck off for a couple of days, and I could get hammered drunk.
Saturdays were spent dealing with hangovers. Because the quicker the hangover subsided, the sooner you could go out again.
Sundays were a terrible comedown. Full of dread and resentment.
And then I changed careers.
I no longer work in insurance. I no longer hate the job I do. TFI Friday? Not so much.
Perhaps I’m just getting old, but living for the weekend seems like a wasted opportunity.
Anyway. Night night.
Saturday, July 25th, 2009
Free samples are as old as the direct marketing hills.
When I was younger, I remember getting lots of free samples of Wash & Go delivered to our house. Maybe someone thought my hair could do with a few more washes.
Those free samples worked – big, proper bottles of Wash & Go could often be found in the Waters bathroom a few weeks later.
Free samples are still alive and well. Even in the digital world. Introducing Books offers free samples on its website, giving people the opportunity to see the unique style of their books before buying.
Free samples were even available at Latitude festival. Müller (those lick the lid of life people) had a special tent where, every morning, they gave away free yoghurts, corners, rice and those probiotic thingymajigs.
I liked this for two reasons:
1. They were kind enough to give away free food to hungry, hungover people.
2. In a world where financial departments demand hard evidence of ROI, this was a refreshing change. There’s no possible way they could measure ROI or ‘brand engagement’ or any other nauseating marketing term. But they still did it. They still thought it would bring a smile to people’s faces. And genuinely believed that us folk would repay this gesture by purchasing their products on a regular basis (otherwise why do it?).
The thing I really like about free samples is their faith in the product. I love the try-this-once-and-you-will-fucking-love-it attitude. The unwavering belief that one shot at the title is all the little fucker needs to worm its way in your life forever. Free samples cry out: we are a product, and we’re not shit.
* * *
Halfway through writing this post, the topic came up at work. Could we, an agency, give free samples to prove what a brilliant job we could do given the chance?
I’m not so sure. Yoghurts have pots and lids and are full of cream and fruit and stuff. It is a yoghurt or it isn’t. (That’s a sentence I never imagined writing.) If you like the yoghurt free sample, you buy another yoghurt full price. Creativity is subjective. And you’re only as good as your last effort. Yoghurts can rest on their laurels for years.
Sunday, January 4th, 2009
Pic by Dominic.
What are the rules for hating old people? Is it allowed? I hope so.
Okay, so hate is strong word. But Sainsbury’s quite clearly mark the basket-only checkouts with big pictures of baskets. So when the old couple with the trolley sneaked in front of me and my four items, my gasket prepared itself for a big blow.
But what could I say to these rule breakers? He may have fought in the war; she may have Dug for Victory. I’d no chance of gracing the higher ground (and checkout position) I craved.
I was about to say something when I noticed their ally. Her Daily Mail gave her away. She glanced at me from the adjacent queue, ready to phone the Evening Star – and maybe even her rag of choice – should I even question the heroes that were slowly unloading their trolley, checking each item as if they didn’t remember putting it in there. They probably didn’t.
They weren’t cheery old folk. Not like my nan. She’s always a jolly old soul. They looked like miseries, but I’m prepared to accept that everyone in Sainsbury’s looks pretty much the same miserable way.
And since these geriatric nutters were happy to break the checkout rules, where would they stop? Rules meant nothing to them. They could be armed. I could be gunned down by these lawless fogeys. In self defence, whispered their ally, in my head.
I drifted off in a wave of absurd thought. Moments later, I was jolted back to reality by the familiar call of the Sainsbury’s droid.
“AffyougottaNectarCard?”
Sunday, December 28th, 2008
I love Christmas – there’s magic in the air.
Yes, Christmas is too commercial. But so is football; so is the new Kings of Leon album. I don’t care: sometimes I like commercial. That’s why I’ve always wanted to work in advertising.
Advertising can be beautiful. This, this and these are all the proof you’ll need:
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oP5J4W5GQ3w]
In 2008 the lesser spotted Good Christmas Ad made a return to shores of Blighty thanks to CHI & Partners.
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wGBGsJOt6QM]
If you did manage to piss off your family with some rubbish gifts, they’ll forgive you. After all, Christmas makes people a little friendlier and smiley. Perhaps it’s all the fantastic cheap booze Supermarkets are offering (another upside of things being too commercial).
And amidst the throng of festive commerce, I think you’d still be a right sour muppet if you didn’t entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, Santa does exist. Yes, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But watch just one of the many good festive films – Elf, Miracle of 54th Street, Santa Claus The Movie – and only the hardest of impenetrable hearts will condemn Old Saint Nick to the spiritual scrapheap.
But now Christmas has gone for another year. I’ll miss it.
Oh well, let’s look forward to a cracking 2009.
Saturday, November 22nd, 2008
I hate decorating. With the fiery passion of an “appalled” Daily Mail reader hunting down a big-haired Radio 2 DJ.
However, two good things to come out of recent decorating tribulations:
1. The Crown Paints website. Oh no, I’m not being sarcastic. It’s a stroke (arp!) of genius. You can even see what your room will look like at night. (No, dickhead. Not a pitch black night.)
2. Listening to albums from start to finish while painting. Especially great ones that you haven’t listened to for ages. Come back, Good Shoes – I miss you.
Cripes, it’s snowing…
Wednesday, November 12th, 2008
Yesterday lunchtime, four of us popped into Lowestoft to hire suits for a swanky awards dinner we’re off to. After finding suitably-sized DJs, everyone except me was feeling peckish.
Rob and Glen decided to go to Subway, while Alex fancied going to Mama’s – a little independent sandwich shop that had recently moved to new premises.
To even the numbers up, I went with Alex. He got the massive fresh sandwich he desired, but also a friendly chat with the lady owner. He even got a free Wispa bar because she remembered him and wanted to show her appreciation of his loyalty.
Meanwhile, Glen and Rob had given up waiting in Subway’s queue and gone to McDonald’s instead.
Smaller doesn’t mean worse, just less big. Often, it’s better.
Monday, July 28th, 2008
Huddle ten web designers together. Ask them to build you a website.
Then huddle a website designer, a taxi driver, a child, a grandmother, a butcher, baker, and candlestick maker, an accountant, and a student together. Ask them to build you a website.
Which group builds the most innovative website?
The ten web designers undoubtedly are the most experienced group. They’re the group that most business owners would put their faith in. It’s the safe group to choose.
But I’m not so sure that experience is always the best option. (Let it be said: I prefer my pilots with plenty of experience. And my dentists.)
Experience is a very useful thing. But with experience often comes the status quo. How many times have you sat next to a new recruit who nods at every opportunity and babbles: “yeah, that’s how we used to do it at [company name] too”?
How good will someone be at a job because they’ve done it before?
How interested?
How hungry?
Apparently, Southwest Airlines won’t employ people who have experience at another airline unless they’re convinced the potential recruit can unlearn all those bad habits (again, let’s hope this doesn’t extend to the pilots).
Is it silly to ignore these experienced people? Well, Southwest Airlines have been consistently profitable for 35 years – you argue it with them.
So if you’re planning on being different, growing an enthusiastic workforce, and reaping the rewards – ask yourself how much experience you really need.
In the wrong hands, experience becomes competence. Before you know it, you’ve gone from competent to adequate. And being adequate is something to avoid.
Thursday, June 19th, 2008
- There a no shortcuts.
- Don’t waste time with things that make you unhappy.
- You can’t fake it.
- It’s never as scary as you think it’s going to be.
- Books are still great.
- Stay positive; worrying achieves nothing.
- It’s okay to be shit at things.
- Honestly is still the best policy.
- It’s not you, it’s them.
- The only thing that proves you can do it is doing it.