• Someone very dear to me has one of those rare opportunities to make a completely fresh start career wise. Quite literally, what do I want to do? The choice is mine.

    Indiana_jones_temple_of_doom

    In this case, the choice is archaology (said individual is sick of every thinking they’re the first to make the Indiana Jones connection).

    How perfectly wonderful and terrifying all at once. What what you choose to do? What will make you truly happy? Are you curious about how good you would be at something totally diferent? Are you lucky enough to be one of the best at what you do, but given the chance, do you think you would be average at something else but love it more?

    I have my own coffee shop dream – a little restaurant in St Ives with my best loved recipes. I know a few planning blog type people would come, but even if it was a heroic failure, it might be nice to find out. I’m not the best cook in the world, but my food tastes of love.

    I was great at swimming, but merely good at tennis. I would have given anything for that to be other way around. Forget being Federer, just to play tennis all day and get paid would be great.

    And then there’s the nagging, suspected idea that there’s a university politics department, or a think tank somewhere missing an international relations specialist (I loved this bit as a a student but I was a coward – knowing a little bit about how the world really works scared me to death).

    Come to think of it, I’ve sort of done it in my own little way. It was only the move from suit to planner, but it was still a leap of faith back then, a pretty safe one I grant you. That’s sort of worked out.

    One of the very best planners I know told me that the first few years of his career was a waste of time until he made the leap. Wrong agencies, wrong job (suit), wrong industry before that. Now I don’t entirely agree with that. The journey is sort of the point, makes you appreciate it when you get there.

    I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I think I mean that life is full of possibility, sometimes it’s better to remain curious, sometimes chances need to be grasped. And sometimes you just don’t know how lucky you are. But the fantasy of starting again is a sweet, bitter secret we all carry.

  • PSFK pointed this out, but I can’t find their post. You may have noticed that I have a passing interest in swimming.

    Swimming is as primal, simple sport. It’s just your body in different medium. As such, technology has never really been able to help – apart from shaving hair off to reduce friction.

    But recently, world records are falling all over the place. Recieved wisdom is that it’s hard to beat nature – but they have made all over body suits that are better than skin – you glide though the water with minumum resistance.

    In a way I think it’s sad, just like purists who mourn the passing of the old wooden tennis rackets, or soul surfers with their old wooden boards. There’s something noble about just you, your body and what you can push it to do. I know it’s a level playing field, but it just takes some of the romance out of it for me.

    That said,I used to shave all my hair off, so maybe that’s a smidgin of hypocrisy. Not to mention, grow back on your chest itched like a bastard.

  • So I finally got around to reading Stephen Pinker’s the stuff of thought. Which is every bit as interesting as I’d hoped. Far too much to recount here, you’ll just have to read it, but there was one bit that struck me about wordplay and proposition writing.

    Pinker

    There’s a little bit that talks about polysemy and its role in humour. Polysemy is where a word had more than one meaning, which you can deduce from its context within other words and sentence construction. Like red has a variety of meanings – red-hot, red-hair, red-alert for example. Red hair is ginger, red-hot is a particular expression of heat that is very hot, but not as searing as white hot (thought red hot coals are orange).

    These words are brilliant for wordplay and dry humour -like Mae West’s, " Marriage is an institution, but I’m not ready for an institution yet". Flipping the meaning of ‘institution’ get the effect.

    Or WC Field’s answer to, " It must be hard to lose a relative". The answer was, "Nearly impossible". Changing the meaning of ‘lose’.

    So what’s my point? Well, I get nervous of propositions in briefs that try to be headlines. But you do need to make them interesting. They need a hook, some tension. I think that this kind of polysemous wordplay is a great trick to make them sing out without falling into the trap of writing a headline.

    I’ve often got out of being stuck by using liberating not for example. This usually works by looking at what great about something, and dramatising what it ISN’T rather than what it is. So Lynx is NOT dirty. This works through the more than one meaning of ‘dirty’.

    Then there’s the trick of forcing a word into sentence it shouldn’t really live in, using metaphor. It forces the reader to give it more attention than it should normally warrant, paints a picture in the mind. Make information emotional, not just fact. Like Tom Lebvers’ " Soon we’ll be sliding down the razorblade of life". Which makes ‘life is hard’ more graphic, you can almost feel it…which brings me to maybe my favourite proposition – polaroid is not a camera, it’s social lubrication (by the way they get to this by giving wedding guests free cameras and seeing what they did them…doubt it would have come from groups!). It allows you some traction, friction or whatever metaphor you like, in a sentence.

    I’ll be looking for polysemy and metaphor in my propositions. I think it’s a good way of finding hooks, unless you’re one of those natural proposition writers. If so, count your blessings.

  • 100_2650_2

    Here’s some happy Tzatziki. Only holiday snap. Promise.

  • Closed

    Going to Greece for a little holiday. See you in a week.

  • I loved history as child, and as grown up I still do since knowing where you came from can tell you a lot about who you are. So Andrew Marr’s a History of Modern Britain is a delight.

    Modern

    He writes beautifully, which is a timely reminder that good information is made so much better if it’s delivered in an inspirational way, but it’s so much more than that.

    Most history, and in fact, most news and current affairs tends to focus on politics and big, macro stories. But that’s the tip of the iceberg. There’s the rhythm of everyday life, the conversations, the hopes, the fears, the language. You only get a good sense of that from poetry, books and (last century anyway, films, radio and TV). What this book does really well is get down to that level and think about what real life was life for real people.

    This is something planning folk should think about more. Big grand strategy is all well and good but what’s the grammar and rhythm of everyday life? I can assure you that the texture of the everyday for the Fashionista girl I’m beginning to know as well as myself is at once very similar and incredibly different to my own. The trick is to know how and why.

    On another note, the people from the 40’s 50’s and 60’s seemed totally alien to me, until I realise they are still with me now. They’re called Grandma and Mum and Dad. Not sure what this means, but it seems very important. I suppose it puts credit crunches and oil prices into perspective. I should ask about stuff like this more, what it was like they won’t be around forever. That’sa big part of growing up for me, seeing your parents as people rather than just ‘parents’.

  • In Paul Watzlwick’s The Situation is hopeless but not serious he opens with a little story about the Austrians.

    Photo_lg_austria

    A once great Empire, the sheer diversity meant that agreeing on the common sensical was virtually impossible and absurdity permeated every facet of life. ‘Simple problemswere impossible and impossible problems acheievable by default’. ‘Austria loses every battle but the hopeless ones’. Sounds like planning to me, trying to do impossibly clever stuff just because that’s what planners are supposed to do.

    We’ve all been guilty of it, inexplicable inability to do something perfectly good and right because it’s too simple. I suspect that many have ignored a flash of inspiration that came too early in the process.."Hold on, I haven’t thought enough about thism surely there must be more?"

    Yes, very often we cannot resist the urge to muddy things with added layers of complication just because we want to be shinier, harder, looks like genius. I’m not sure last week’s Campaign helped when they argued that some of their percieved best work recently looks like it’s had no planning – like Drench, Sony Balls or the Gorilla. Simple ideas (truths?) executed very well.

    What I dislike about this observation is that ‘planning’ needs to shine out of the work, it needs to look really, really, really clever. On the most frustrating things about my job is that very few people see how much you’ve left out. But that’s the job.

    That doesn’t mean reducing stuff down to something dumb, or bullet hard advertising propositions, but it does mean compressing lots of good stuff into a rich, simple idea. But that’s the job. Leave your ego at the door and get on with it.

    1. Shut up and let me go – Ting Tings
    2. Hit – Sugarcubes
    3. Harrowdown Hill – Thom York
    4. Summertime- The Sugarcubes
    5. Running Away – Polyphonic Spree
    6. Bizarre love triangle – New Order
    7. Teenage kicks – Undertones
    8. Come Together – Primal Scream
    9. Golden Years – Prince
    10. Rasberry Beret (12 inch) – Prince
  • When you developing strategy it’s very easy to do the right thing. You know, do masses of groups, prove your point with a quant study and develop an lovely, elegant strategy that makes total sense. Who knows, there may be shining insight. It will probably track well too.

    But you’re probably missing as trick. I’m often amazed at how how few marketing people actually go out and talk to the people who use their product or service while they’re actually using it. They never see what the true relationship actually is – they won’t say much that matches your brand onion, but they will tell you exactly what your company really means to them. Stuff that doesn’t come out in groups because it’s too intuitive.

    Rich stuff tends to tumble out. Not just how best to promote what you’re selling, but NPD, product development, real meaty business stuff.

    One of the best NPD guys I ever worked with worked for a handtools brand and used to look at how professionals modified their tools – and simply made it. No one else bothered and they continually remained one step ahead of the competition. 

  • The Withnail and I washing up scene is simply genius. With a much underated line – "Leave it until the morning". "This is the morning".