You’ve probably noticed something about my posts.

I’m constantly name-dropping. Not celebrities. Not influencers. Cousins. Colleagues. Random friends. That guy Steve Hoechester who said one thing at lunch that hijacked my brain for a week.

Here’s why: I genuinely believe that credit is a form of currency, and I like to be rich in the stuff that actually matters.

Yes, I can come up with ideas on my own. Hell, I’m good at it. (Like, "could monetize it in my sleep" good.) But the truth is, something special happens when you let other people into the process. A conversation. A book. A line in a podcast. It’s not just inspiration, it’s ignition. These interactions don’t just give me ideas. They accelerate them. Sharpen them. Sometimes they slap me in the face and say, "Hey dummy, go this way."

I saw a post today from Stephanie Agresta talking about SXSW and how they have reimagined the footprint of the festival. The post caught my eye because SXSW is a big part of my career.

I’ve been to SXSW eight times and seven of those were in a row, mostly with FreshBooks , but also tagging along with two other startups hellbent on making noise. And every damn year we managed to stir things up so well that we’d get a polite (but clearly annoyed) email from the organizers: "You got us this time, but we’re closing that loophole for next year."

For me, it happened last week.

I was talking with my cousin. She’s cool. She’s fun. She’s wildly successful in that effortless “Oh, I didn’t realize you were on that board” kind of way. We were bouncing around ideas about travel and food and all the things that make life feel like more than just a to-do list.

Then she said this.

“Do you know why they call things better? Because better is better. That’s why they call it better.”

I swear to you, time froze for a second.

Let’s get this out of the way first, the Bugonia stunt could’ve been legendary. The kind of PR moment that earns front-page headlines, floods TikTok feeds, and gets whispered about in marketing Slack channels for years.

But instead of legendary, it became lukewarm.

I’ve been in marketing long enough to watch it morph from a business built on instinct, creativity, and a little showmanship… into something that looks like a NASA control center for consumer behavior. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-data. Data’s amazing. It tells you who’s worth talking to, where they are, what they care about, and sometimes even the color of socks they’re wearing when they buy toothpaste.

But here’s the thing: data can tell you where to aim the arrow, it can’t make anyone care that you shot it.

Let’s talk about Ryan Reynolds.

Actor? Yes. Charming? Sure. Canadian? Absolutely. But marketing genius? Pump the brakes, ADWEEK .

Once again, the advertising world is tripping over itself to praise the man like he’s the second coming of David Ogilvy, all because of a shiny little PR diversion masquerading as a brand campaign. If you missed it, Ryan Reynolds' agency (Maximum Effort — ironic name for what amounts to TikTok-level commitment) recently dropped an ad for a tech company featuring Coldplay’s “X&Y” era emotions and, get this, the Coldplay singer's ex-wife Gwyneth Paltrow is in the creative. That’s right, they used a connected celebrity as a smokescreen to rewrite the headlines and change the public narrative on the CEO cheating scandal.

And everyone’s clapping like trained seals at SeaWorld.

I keep Google Alerts for a handful of things: my name (obviously), my book title, a few brands I admire (or envy), and the term “experiential marketing.”

That last one used to be my favourite alert.

Every few days, I’d get a little gem in my inbox, a recap of a jaw-dropping installation in Tokyo, a campaign that took over an NYC subway station, or some mind-bending immersive stunt in London that made people stop in their tracks and feel something.

Let’s talk about the most overhyped and under-leveraged growth strategy in business today: Customer Experience (CX) paired with Word of Mouth (WOM).

You’ve read the headlines. You’ve skimmed the McKinsey decks. You’ve nodded politely at a thousand LinkedIn influencers saying “the customer is everything.” And hey, they’re not wrong.

The world is chaos right now.

Tesla dealerships are getting vandalized. Memes and podcasts are shaping political outcomes more than billion-dollar campaigns. The platforms that brands used to rely on, Facebook ads, Google search, even traditional PR is tried and true but you need something great for them to get excited about. People are choosing their own sources of truth, and in most cases, those sources aren’t mainstream media or conventional advertising.

When I first pitched the idea for the #IMAKEALIVING powered by FreshBooks event series, the goal was simple: bring business owners together to share what was really keeping them up at night. There were hundreds—if not thousands—of resources on starting a business, but very few places to turn when things got tough. What happens when your friends can’t refer you business anymore? When you feel like you’re all alone?

In my last post, I said this: “Brands can no longer afford to keep operating at arm's length from their customers.” We’ve spent the past few years obsessed with growth hacks, automation, and data, but as we gear up for 2025, it’s clear that the tides are changing. The world is more unpredictable than ever, and the brands that thrive will be the ones that rediscover the power of community and bring back the human connection they’ve lost.

Disruption is an overused word. It can mean a lot of different things, but at its heart it’s a catch-all for pushing the limits of something. In the case of disruptive marketing, it can mean pushing the limits so you can be where your customers or prospective customers are. Sometimes that means going to a competitor’s conference (or any conference) with or without permission.

I was recently interviewed by the nice people at Startwell, and we talked about “the brands that stand out from the pack usually win.” I believe this, preach this and live this. You will see this in my talks, in my work, and, more than anywhere else, in my pitches.