Not This

not this


Just a very brief post today, with thanks to Elizabeth Gilbert the author, I should like to declare Not This. A momentous day I feel – now to work out the details.



We changed the world


Not something that any of us say every day but if we are lucky then once or twice in a lifetime.

Twenty years ago this week I started my work on a project called Orbitor for Nortel Networks. I was the product guy. The project became the world’s first smartphone, and although never launched it changed the way we look at and use mobile devices forever. First use of Java in a mobile phone (Scott McNealy said “I didn’t believe it was possible” to me in Frankfurt in 1997), first over-the-air download of an application to a phone, and many more firsts. The guy who worked on the background tech went on to architect the iPhone. And we all had a ball doing it.

The tech and the product means nothing now, except the legacy. This week I emailed 5 of the key players in the team, two of which I hadn’t spoken to for years. All replied within two hours. Here are some of the comments:

Phil, What a wonderful note.  While other faculties may be failing, your memory is spot on.  It is indeed 20 years since Brian and I and the Orbitor team crossed paths with two crazy Brits and commenced a wild journey.”

I agree.  Thanks for the memory.

 Nortel’s strength at its height came from the innovation and resourcefulness of its people, and the Orbitor team represented the pinnacle of that value.

 Projects like Orbitor didn’t just change the world, but changed those of us who came in contact with them.  We (you) are the legacy of that – keep the flame alive!”

20 years, eh?  I didn’t have a specific date etched in my archives, but that timeframe sounds about right.  I recall at least one software developer who came into my office asking if he could join my team because he wanted to work on Orbitor.  I told him that there wasn’t any such development project at that time.  He said, “Not yet, but there will be, and you’re going to be the one to do the development, and I want to be there when you do.”  Yes, we did hire him.  We had a lot of people on staff who could predict the future.  We got pretty used to living 10-15 years in everyone’s future.”

It is a measure of what we built that a lot of the team, although busy with their own lives, have gone on to have serious careers, but still stay in touch, albeit not as often as they would like. What was it that Russel Crowe said in Gladiator? Oh yes, “What we do in life echoes in eternity”

I wonder how we are going to change the world next?


Man unplugged


I have recently had a two week holiday from work for the first time in many years. Largely my family was working and there was enough time to think and chew over the world, cunning plans were hatched, but there were also a few more fundamental thoughts.

We are connected people in a connected world and there is always the temptation to go online and have a look around, or look at the iPhone. This happens often, and perhaps far too often. Those two weeks, whilst acknowledging that work in online based, I began to wonder what would happen if it all stopped. More than that, what would happen if we wanted it to stop? Don’t misunderstand, this is not the stirrings of a potential luddite or the desire to become a prepper. This is about simplicity.

We live increasingly complex but trivial lives (debate).

Simplicity and meaning rather than complexity and trivia – there’s a thought. So there is no desire to live in a yurt and knit my own yoghurts. Yes there is a desire to have a break from it all, to do things we used to do, or better things, with hands and minds and time.

An experiment is upon me. Internet free Sundays. I am going to try and keep one day per week (Sunday is just the most convenient day) internet free. That means phone switched off and no computer. On Sundays I will be a man unplugged.

The phone will be with me in case of an emergency. But wait…if the phone is switched off, how will I know the time? Must find my watch. But wait…why do I need to know the time? Get the picture? Time slows down.

Last Sunday I went blackberrying, and froze them. I went to a car boot sale (poor as you ask). Then I cooked, then I read a book. Can’t decide if TV is allowed.

This might become a movement, or a cult, or an internet phenomenon…

Man Unplugged


p.s. This blog will of course appear online, but was written on a Sunday, on paper, outside, under a tree. So there.

Upcycling Revisited


Hundreds of years ago, when I had my first flat in Liverpool and the mortgage rate was so high that I could barely afford to eat, a bed was needed.While my heart was set on everythng Habitat (remember them?), my wallet said FREE is GOOD, so I decided to make one. As I had a mattress, what was needed was the base. After much thought and a little chat to my then employers, two industrial pallets arrived at my door. With a can of red gloss paint I created a low level bed that was much admired. Why didn’t I come up with the name UPCYCLING and start a business?

Today upcycling is massively on-trend, eco-friendly and loved by lovies everywhere. With the exception of the extremes (“Oh look Camilla I have turned a double-decker bus into a book shelf”, “How to turn a mahogony table into shirt buttons”) I love it. It is so impressive how inventive people are and what they can achieve.

Back to reality I am in the middle of turning a number of pallets into a two-level dog kennel. There are three things to consider:

1) Can it be completed before I run out of dogs to put in it?

2) Can it be done without buying any new wood whatsoever?

3) Can it be done without spending more on accessories and tools than the cost of a new two-level dog kennel?

Hmmmm, time to do stuff rather than writing about it!


p.s. More on this later if you can bear the excitement…

Fathers Day

A reflective fathers day this year. Later this week it is twenty five years since my father died. Twenty five years, a quarter of a century! I got the call and drove my battered Ford Escort flat out from London to Southport and he died in our arms. It was shortly after David Platt scored the winner for England against Belgium (he loved football), and with Pavarotti singing Nessum Dorma. He was only 71, but of a different generation to most of my friends’ fathers.

My father never met my children, or saw the internet, or computers or mobile phones. He would have loved Sky Sports News and have been utterly bewildered by most of what we think is normal today. I was pondering Periscope today and have no idea how that could have been explained to him. He fought in the war and would never talk about it, saying simply that he had seen things that no-one should see. He didn’t like ‘foreign’ food – “Tried it in the war, didn’t like it”, so my mother used to slip garlic in when he wasn’t looking.

He hit his tennis serve by holding the racquet like a frying pan, drawing it down on the ball to give it acute backspin. When he his a forehand his right leg went up in the air. He was truly awful at DIY. My father loved small children, but didn’t understand anyone over 5 years old; and teenagers, oh the battles!

William Thomas (Terry) Terrett was a cool man with a dry sense of humour. He worked hard for his family and kept little for himself. He offered little encouragement when we were growing up but was rarely critical.He retired at 63 and within a few years began to fade, badly. I have always thought, that like many of his generation, the war broke something in him that could never be unbroken. When military service ended, work began. When work ended there was little left.

My father was a maths genius. We used to race to add up vast lists of numbers from his Sales Conferences, him by hand and, me on a calculator. He was never wrong, and always faster. In another life he would have taken the University place denied him as a youth  and then who knows?

There have been many times when I needed his guidance in the last twenty five years and have just had to work things out myself, today I feel it more than usual.

As Leonard Cohen sang “It’s Fathers Day and everybody’s wounded”

Goodbye to 2013


I want to say goodbye to 2013. No really I will pleased to open up 2014. This has been a strange and difficult year for me and our family and we need to move on. HIT THE REFRESH BUTTON.

On the good side my daughter turned 21 and got a 2/1 in her degree. My son turned 18 and my marriage turned 25. We have been largely healthy and Gizmo the Cairn has been a delight. There have been some fantastic supportive people around and I thank them all.

On the down side life has been tough and will be for a while yet. Sadly a number of people have let me down in business. They know who they are and know what they did (or didn’t do). While I wish them no ill-fortune I hope that in future they deliver on what they commit to. Enough of this and of them.

I did not see the sea in 2013, perhaps for the first year in my life. So if we are going to build a bucket list for 2014 it MUST include this. When you grow up by the sea it is just part of you and the separation is a strain on the soul. I am building my bucket list here.

We move into 2014 quietly and with purpose. As a good friend of mine pointed out to me this year “It is time to stop dicking around”. Quite

See you in a more sparkly and productive 2014.


Time for change

“One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it’s worth watching”

I always know when it is coming, but usually have not known why – of course logic and reason can be applied, but it’s the feelings that count, that make it inevitable. And those feelings are semi-conscious feelings, a moment of wistfulness, a hypnagogic interlude, the whisper of a song, a long forgotten smell.

It starts with broken sleep, not bad sleep but broken, lately waking up at stupid o’clock, dozing on the sofa in the evening, getting woken by Mr Cairn at 1am when he has caught wind of a potent smell drifting in from the garden. Then coincidental hearing of music from other times of change – this morning flicking channels a film had Blue Moon (revisited) by the Cowboy Junkies playing in the background. Then a smell – summer rain and dust mixing. Then a desire to travel again, to be on the road in America or back in Moscow.

This is a pattern I know, and may be illogical or may be coincidence, but really it is neither. It is a shift in me that will lead to change. I tell clients that nothing remains the same, it either progresses or deteriorates. At pivotal points restlessness sets in and the outcome is inevitable. Am I going to leave home – of course not, or pack it all in and knit yoghurts for a living, of course not.

Watch this space.

“May the bridges I burn light the way.”