Sad numbers, happy numbers, and a Japanese word for books I haven't read..

Every time a biscuit ad comes on the telly, I have to look the other way.

Not because I don’t like biscuits.

I do.

Not because I don’t admire the creative talent that goes into the making of the ad.

I really do.

And not even because I admire the talent that goes into the making of the biscuits.

I absolutely do.

Some more than others.

Mostly, it has to do with my shower room.

The one upstairs.

The one with the scales that sit, on the floor, at the side of the wash hand basin.

The scales that I stand on once a week…every week…and look for a set of numbers that will either make me smile, or make me frown.

I’ve been smiling a bit more than normal these days.

The numbers on my scales are, what I call Happy Numbers.

My scales used to have, what I call Sad Numbers.

Their main occupation in life was to make me feel depressed.

They were very good at it.

Those were the days when I ate lots of biscuits.

Especially chocolate ones.

In fact, those were the days when I ate lots of things.

And the more I ate the sadder my numbers got.

And the sadder they got, the more depressed I felt.

Then one day, I came across the Japanese word Tsundoku.

It has no equivalent in the English Language, but basically, what it refers to is the act of buying books.

Lots of books.

Then bringing them together in piles.

And not reading them.

How cruel…and yet how poetic.

When you say the word, it rolls off the tongue like a mysterious foreign sound-byte.

Something that feels like it was born to be spoken out loud, rather than written down softly.

Like a taste that fits perfectly in the mouth until you purse the lips and breathe it out like a stranger into the waiting air.

Tsundoku.

So…I girded my loins…and I started buying books.

And putting them in small, neat piles.

And not reading them.

One for every pack of biscuits. I didn’t buy.

One for every sweet thing that didn’t pass my lips.

One for every large meal I exchanged for a small meal.

One for every slice of red meat I exchanged for a slice of white.

One for every dollop of mashed potato I exchanged for a piece of fruit.

One for every fifteen minutes of sitting I exchanged for fifteen minutes of exercise.

And now, whenever I go upstairs and stand on my scales, I don’t feel depressed any more

All because of a Japanese word

That doesn’t have an equivalent meaning in English

But does have an equivalent meaning in happiness.

And I have piles of books that I haven’t read.

Incidentally, I also have piles of books that I have read.

The Japanese probably have a poetic-sounding word for that too…

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The above is an extract from my as yet unpublished (and mostly unwritten) book Ad Interruptus.

Like its sisters Ad Lib, and Ad Infinitum (NOW AVAILABLE), it's about creativity, advertising, life, and lots of stuff in between.

You'll find Ad Infinitum, Ad Lib, and Ad Hoc on Amazon, along with my other books, Love & Coffee and Heaven Help Us. In print and ebook. Waiting for you.

And the wonderful thing about all three Ad books is… it doesn’t matter where you finish any chapter or episode.

Because it will always be pretty damned close to where you started it…

Ad Infinitum: https://amzn.to/3pof7Uq

Ad Lib: https://amzn.to/2kd4LKf.

Ad Hoc: https://amzn.to/2Nx8GL8

Love & Coffee: https://amzn.to/28IWaHq

Heaven Help Us: https://amzn.to/2nkQ1Jk

Grab a coffee, grab a chair, and grab a sneaky peek.

Then grab a copy for Christmas...