My son left England in 1992, where he’d worked for absolutely no money at various big London companies who really should have paid him. Really. At the very least he could have got a trade. You know, something with his hands.
After we bankrolled his trip to Sydney, he worked at Chiat/Day/Mojo and wrote some lovely commercials including one with the funny band from that film.
Rather than coming home, he worked in Hong Kong and Singapore for a few years before moving to George Patterson Melbourne, then Sydney, then became Creative Director at either Saatchi and Saatchi, or M&C Saatchi. One of those.
He did that really nice spot for Optus with the Whale in it, a big football one and some others that I’ve forgotten. Oh, a lovely poem with that woman from the Sixth Sense film. The JR poster was nice. We always loved Dallas. The show. Not the place. That was where they shot Kennedy.
He won lots of awards. Can, DAD, OneShoe and others he can’t be bothered to tell us about. He never calls. And we know he’s on Skype. His name comes up.
They seem to like him where he works. That’s important because of the recession.
He judges stuff, lectures and wrote us a lovely email about the weather. The weather here is awful. Just awful. Anyway. Got to run. The dog needs a poo.
Linda Flemming. Andy’s Mum.