Col’s four year old daughter Darwin rode a pedal bike for the first time last week. If it weren’t for the Fink Tank, I would have missed it.

In our final episode for this year, we reflect on the surprising longevity of the project, and the multiple ways it has brought joy to our lives.

Since June 2023, we’ve dropped 114 episodes in 130 weeks. Apart from season breaks, we’ve only missed one Friday publishing deadline. For anyone who knows the Finks, that is ASTONISHING.

We love the conversations and connections the Fink Tank brings. To all you beautiful people who’ve joined in the fun, THANK YOU. You’re the reason Col and I keep playing in this magnificent sandpit.

See you next year!

If you’re a member of the Dead Parent Club, today’s Fink Tank is for you.

Our dad Tony died 27 years ago. On his anniversary yesterday we honoured him in Col’s shed.

I’m now about the same age as Dad was as I remember him. When I was younger all I could see were the differences. As I’ve aged, I’ve been quietly chuffed to grow into the similarities. I love seeing echos of his character in Col.

We’re all a reflection of our parents, for better or worse. Tony was a wonderful dad, so most similarities are for better. Apart from Col inheriting a filthy smoking habit for a decade. And my penchant for leaving things to the absolute last minute*.

If you’ve lost a parent, we’d love to hear from you.

People warned us about going to the United States. With alarming news at saturation point, we had doubts ourselves. Here’s what happened:

Everything was fine.

In Florida, people warned us about going to New Orleans.

New Orleans was amazing. We went to a Halloween street party in the suburbs, and it was pure delight. But the people there warned us about going to downtown New Orleans.

Downtown New Orleans is fantastic. We took the kids for a sunset walk on Bourbon Street, and they loved it.

The news paints a distorted picture of the world, where danger and catastrophe lurk at every corner.

The world is mostly great. But that doesn’t make the news, because reality is boring. Yes we’re privileged, and there’s a lot of real suffering in the world. The news machine knows we feel guilty about our comparative ease, and exploits our empathy.

You already know that just being “aware” of the world’s atrocities doesn’t help. What actually helps is money.

So, Col Fink and I wonder, should you stop watching the news?

If you’re hurtling toward Christmas in a hectic hot mess, here’s the good news:

That’s fine. It’s what November is for.

If things are STILL chaotic in February, we might have issues.

Our great mate and friend of the show Digby Scott writes an annual “Christmas won’t fix it” newsletter.

In the spirit of nuanced debate for which social media is revered, The Fink Tank offers this response:

He’s wrong.

Christmas WILL fix it.

Life and work come in cycles. There's an end-of-year frenzy, then we chill out for a while. Feeling frazzled isn't ideal, but Col thinks it might be a sign your business is... businessing.

Here are two Fink Tank approved suggestions for the end-of-year rush:

1. Suck it up for a couple more weeks then enjoy your break.

2. Cross some things off your to-do list without doing them.

And yes, Digby's right about avoiding toxic cycles and the dangers of running on empty. You can read his excellent newsletter here (and follow him if you don’t already) https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/christmas-wont-fix-digby-scott-tuxpc/

We’ll leave you with this quote, which I stole from his newsletter:

"Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you."

- Anne Lamott

Cars are singularly amazing, and a collective pain in the arse.

In this (mercifully short) Fink Tank rant, Col and I bemoan the loss of amenity in cities designed entirely around cars.

It points to a frequently occurring tension in modern individualistic life:

Things that make MY day easier often make EVERYONE’S day worse. Including mine.

(Ha! I toyed with writing “make ONE’S day easier” for the inclusive feel, but it looks archaic. However I did just realise referring to oneself as “one” makes more sense when one considers the word “everyone”. Language eh?)

Anyway, this cost/benefit tension applies to lots of modern innovation. Smartphones, AI, capitalism.

The satirical American newspaper The Onion summed it up brilliantly in the year 2000:

98 Percent Of U.S. Commuters Favor Public Transportation For Others.

Is it just us, or is everyone else already bored with AI generated stuff?

The explosion of prompt-generated videos WITH OUR OWN FACES in fantastical scenarios is astonishing.

And also dull.

It’s eye-catching, but devoid of any substance. There’s zero emotional investment.

Video calls with 10-year-old Harriet often involve her head turning into a skull with rainbows pouring out of its ears, or a cute giraffe in a sombrero. The software tracks her facial expressions, and the cartoon head mimics her eyebrows and mouth movements with incredible accuracy. And it’s awful.

These technological advancements are exciting and interesting for a short burst, and then…. we’re bored.

Is AI generated art destined to live out its days in the Metaverse? Ha! Remember the Metaverse???

Col Fink and I are probably already behind on the hype cycle conversation. There’s plenty of talk about the AI financial bubble, and when it might pop.

In the meantime, keep being you. Do the work, write your newsletter, record your videos. The need for genuine humanity isn’t going anywhere. The fear of obsolescence in a world of AI hopefully is.

PS. Would AI generate face shadows on Col's head and terrible lighting in the opening frame of this video?? No, you need a real human videographer for that!!

Without vision correction, I truly cannot see how many finger’s you’re holding up. I can barely see how many fingers I’M holding up.

But I almost exclusively wear contact lenses, so even people who know me well are sometimes surprised to find out I'm short-sighted at all.

Glasses are an indicator of the problem AND the solution. Contact lenses quietly solve the problem without anybody knowing you even have one.

There's a big difference between visible and invisible help.

Following the wonderful reaction to our “I think I have ADHD” episode a couple of weeks ago, Col and I chat about the changing landscape around neurodiversity, and how bringing visibility

Shame stops many of us from sharing our differences and burdens. The more we see others share safely, without judgement, the easier it becomes.

If you can, be the glasses of your coping strategies, not the contact lenses.

My Airbnb roommate was a Hollywood movie star. I had no idea.

I was at the Toronto Greek Film Festival for Ange & The Boss, and the organiser said, “You’ve got a roommate tonight. You’ll like him.”

Five minutes later, he’s pointing at me going, “Wait… you’re the guy who made that Ange Postecoglou film?”

Turns out he knew half the people in it. He’d actually PLAYED with them in the 1980s.

His name was Costas Mandylor. When injury cut his football career short, he pursued acting. Quite successfully, it turned out!

You’ve probably seen him without realising. Picket Fences. The SAW movies. Cameos in shows like Sex & the City.

For the next two days, I got a quiet masterclass in confidence. Not arrogance, just ease. Costas was affable, generous, memorable, magnetic.

It got me thinking: was his charisma a reflection of his stardom… or the reason he became a star?

In this week’s Fink Tank, Col and I dig into conviction and success, and where it comes from.

Also, you should see his film The Aegean. He's the lead actor, he barely says a word in the entire film, and his performance is mesmerising.