I wrote recently that my blogging days are slightly on the wane. I am not spent, but I am refocusing my journey with a marketing first lens. I am producing more and more work – 200-300 pieces a year at work. My reading is still voracious and my edge perspective challenging.
So I thought I would commit to more of a digest of ideas and work. HT to those from which I have learned: Harold Jarche, Dave Pell, Ann Friedman, Eric Bakadesuyo Barker. Here’s what undulated around my social learning channels recently.
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Memetastic: #First7Jobs
Interesting little twitter theme this week. A shared acknowledgement that we all started somewhere, and it often sucked; that we persevered. However, I am not sure if the large cohort today which is permanently corralled in under-employment dismay and desperation is actively participating in the meme…
Maybe #MostRecent7Jobs could elucidate on their sad predicament?
Here are mine, for what it is worth:
- Paper round (fired).
- Shelf stacker (fired).
- Petrol station Manager.
- Carrying drywall up 4 flights of stairs all day.
- Sheepskin folder.
- Paint factory sweeper.
- Phone centre operator
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Quote of the week
“Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” – Mike Tyson
Abstracted from a NYT article on James Altucher, who is a great read on Medium / LinkedIn on the inner turmoil of trying – and continually failing – to lead a successful life.
His ongoing journey to the edge of sanity helps me frame my own; it becalms me to consider that there are people much more neurotic than me.
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Fuck, yeah.
I sweat a lot, too much for my Canadian colleagues, all meek and polite.
Of course, I worry about ‘da kidz’ growing up potty mouthed. Worry not. When Zoe said, “Oh fuck” the other day when she dropped something, we should have applauded I guess. Still, it’s not me to blame, it’s Lori. If my kids listened more closely to me (oh, idle wishes) her proclamation would have been “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” It’s the saying of the ages, people.
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Shout-OUT: Cindy Gallup
Her take down of the Saatchi twat Kevin Roberts, after his embarrassing gender diversity idiocy is another exhibition of her all-round genius. I want to be @Cindy Gallop when I grow up yo.
And she has the best twitter bio of all:
I like to blow shit up. I am the Michael Bay of business.
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Framing Device
As someone who tried to create a winning mentality crutch for himself with the self-awarded title of Top 44.5 Under 45 But Over 44 In A Very Specific Subset of B2B MarComms Professionals In Vancouver a year or two ago, I very much enjoyed this if-this-then-that narrative that could have been made just for me…
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From the Corners of the Internet
Move over cargo pants, it’s corgi pants time…
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Brexit Diaries
The most depressing, pressing conversation of the age – how do we “deal with” those who are left behind? Brexit and Trump have brought into stark relief this sad and lonely cohort, hurt and misunderstood, disenfranchised and free to make things dangerous for me and my comfy, middle-class mindset.
Interestingly, I know this same battle for community exists in the workplace, and there I feel energized and hopeful. I believe we can develop a more coherent, inclusive future of work. When I consider the same challenges on a social stage – the casual racism and class warfare – it just depresses me.
Zadie Smith’s experience of a year back in London touched me deeply. My undying love of London is that mixture of all and everything, side by side. I worry about the same ghetto drift happening to my community in Vancouver, a divide too big to bridge, a shrug of the shoulders acceptance of a broken dream.
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Muzak
I spent a wonderful afternoon in a YouTube wormhole watching Top of the Pops videos from the early ‘80s – formative musical times of mine listening to the inner city ska reggae revival.
The best bands all split up early, leave you wanting more. Those that continued lost their edge. Music that matters seems to happen in a place of discomfort – youngsters aching and arguing, fermenting and floundering. I wonder if the most dynamic businesses do the same?
Case in point: UB40.
Emerging from the inner city strife of late 70s Thatcherism, their earnest depiction of unemployment on Signing Off is unrivalled brilliance – plaintive reggae and angst driven lyrics of youth. It matters still today. I bet the youth of Spain could gather round and share the exquisite pain; those of urban black USA too.
The Earth Dies Screaming is still one of my top 5 favourite songs…
The earth dies screaming
The earth dies screaming
Your country needs you, lets strike up the band.
The earth dies screaming
The earth dies screaming
Despite all odds we must defend our land.
Half eaten meals lie rotting on the tables,
Money clutched within a boney hand.
Shutters down, the banks are not receiving,
The earth dies screaming.
And then…Red, Red Wine ruined them, made them a pastiche karaoke band for white dads without rhythm. When I say I love UB40 I always have to explain the time and place and reason.
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