This week, forty years ago, I remember two things that happened.
The big one was sitting down on the floor of my school watching the TV as the BBC showed footage of Neil Armstrong setting foot on the moon and declaring "That's one small step for (a) man, one giant leap for mankind."
Even at that age, I knew he was right but it did not seem that unreal or fantastic. It was just what happened. Man on the Moon, Atom Ant, a six foot mouse that talked and Captain Scatlett were all equally credible. It was something that my small and curious brain just accepted and took for granted.
It was not that I took everything for granted back then because the day before this momentous step for mankind, I had been presented with something in Sunday School which I did struggle with and which didn't make sense. It was the story of the Prodigal Son. Now I guess my powers of exegesis were not that well-formed back then but the story did worry me - and that worry has stuck with me to this day.
My take out from the parable was that there was more rejoicing from whomsoever you believed was interested if you lived a life of dissolution, erroneous ways and brazen fun but then said you were sorry than if you toiled carefully and honestly to stick to the rules and live a 'good' life (as defined by the well-meaning, white-haired fellow with the beard who took our Sunday School class). This was compounded by the 'more rejoicing over one sinner who repents than over 99 righteous people who do not'. I remember asking the teacher about this issue and I am sure he gave me a very sound answer, but my misinterpretation has stuck with me ever since.
And it returned last week triggered by two events. The first was watching a documentary on a plane about Apollo 11 and the second was judging some advertising awards. How are these two linked? It was through the notion of a 'big idea'.
We are all so conscious of looking for the big, new, groundbreaking thing, the thing that makes the difference and nudges us on a bit that we often overlook the ideas that just work. Those ideas that do what they are designed to do, do it with the minimum of fuss and do it without breaking the rules or without changing the game.
It seems to me that the ideas we celebrate and rejoice over, the ideas we laud and throw parties for, the ideas that we reward and that make news are the big, new, exciting ones.
But shouldn't we also admire the simple, good ones too?
We all remember Neil Armstrong and his mighty step. We all remember Buzz Aldrin and his brilliant first name. But do we all remember the guy that did the driving and picked them up and brought them home? Maybe we can all pretend we do and look him up on Google but he should be celebrated just as much as the other two. As should the simple, common, hardworking idea.
Unfortunately, this is never the case. These small ideas get overlooked even though they keep the system going. The big ideas are the ones that take us forward and maybe they are the ones rightly lauded and rewarded. I just wish sometimes we could acknowledge the little ones too and this became painfully apparent in the awards judging. Some good, solid, "little" ideas that did the job simply and elegantly but that lack the sex appeal to be celebrated. Shame, really.
And this reminds me of something else I read from 30 years or so before the moon landing, a quote from Mae West: "To be big is good. To be good is better. To be both is best." she was as equally right about ideas as she was about whatever she was referring to back then.
It would be good to adopt that as a mantra for our ideas in advertising - especially in a week where one of the biggest ideas of all was realised. Fly to the moon and then rejoice when we come home again.
