While it’s true that it doesn’t offer anything truly revolutionary (it is, arguably, a giant ipod touch), it is how it is packaged and the benefits of having a bigger screen that are what makes it indispensable for me.

Here’s why:

The screen is drop dead gorgeous. Nothing looks quite as good as it does on an ipad. Tweetdeck, Wired, even Keynote and Pages.

It’s a great in-between device. For those times (such as this short business trip, where I’m writing this) when you don’t necessarily need the grunt of a laptop or desktop but need something more functional than a mobile phone.

It blends the focused nature of using iphone apps with an infinitely friendlier user-interface. Anyone who’s used an iphone will feel right at home, even if you haven’t it is just so simple and intuitive to use.

Did I mention how sexy it was?

Browsing or in fact doing anything on an ipad is a more communal experience than doing it in front of a computer. Within minutes of firing up the New York Times free app, my wife and my mum were huddled around me interacting with the screen, discussing articles of interest.

The size is just right for so many occassions. On the flight back to Adelaide, for instance, it was so much easier maneuvering an ipad than a laptop with a screen large enough to properly enjoy videos and work on a couple of documents.

Transitioning from one app to another is totally seamless. Waiting at the boarding gate, I could switch from Twitter, to Safari, emailing a link to a colleague and back to watching a video someone sent me without really breaking stride.

Finally, as Craig Wilson puts it, the ipad is a total media convergence.

As a marketer, I’ve always hated the generalisation that marketing equals sales – something I’ve experienced in many organisations I’ve worked at where Marketing, by default, is driven by Sales.

However, as a digital marketer in a city as stubbornly traditional as Adelaide, I’ve found that it has become really important for me to know how to sell, especially if I’m pitching an idea that isn’t just about a website. For most marketers, sales is a dirty word, but now more than ever it is important for them to know how to ‘sell’ if you’re going to get the job done.

Particularly if you aren’t at the CMO or Director level, sometimes the only way to get your ideas across the line (not to mention the support you’ll need to even get it off the ground) is to know how to sell it to them because without  their buy-in, you can be certain your big idea will go down in flames.

But before you even think about telling the board all about how your idea is going to revolutionise the business and win you a tonne of customers, make sure you can at least answer these questions:

What objectives does it meet? – Show how it relates to tangible objectives and how it will help the business e.g. an increase in productivity, brand awareness or sales. If you can’t properly answer this one, you’re wasting everyone’s time. Even better, also show how it fits within the mission statement.

How will we get there? – No need to be too specific, but if you can’t be succinct or insightful explaining the steps you need to take then you probably shouldn’t even be pitching this idea.

What alternatives have you considered? – Don’t put all your eggs in one basket. Do your due diligence and make sure you have a good idea of what else is out there and why what you are proposing is the superior option.

What resources do you need? – Not only costs, but also what internal and external resources you will need. Whatever you do, don’t pitch it too low. It’s better to be conservative and come in under budget then to let costs blow out because you were too generous with your estimates.

How long is it going to take? – Pretty self explanatory. Don’t just know how long it will take to implement but also how long before it will be before you start showing some returns (then break even, and eventually profitable).

Something is amiss in the dance music world.

While innovation and invention have been crucial to civilisation as we know it (without it, the combustion engine, microprocessors or house music would never have been conceived and you wouldnt be reading this column), the creativity and imagination that were once its foundations has been usurped by anathema.

In Adelaide, the Superclub Wars of the 90s had allowed smaller venues to thrive and breed a subculture of avid clubbers, men and women who were just as enthusiastic about the music as they were about having a good night out.

Somewhere along the way, all this changed. With the era of the superclub practically extinct, the remaining clubs and bars fought over the displaced masses and in the process lost what made them unique in the first place. Imitation replaced imagination with rampant drink specials and mind-numbingly tacky gimmicks that are the telltale signs of desperation. But the worst part was the music. What was once club cultures defining quality was now virtually identical to that played in countless gyms and fashion retailers. Though size and positioning no doubt play their part, it is simply inexcusable when a professional club DJ plays the same set as your cardio hi-lo instructor.

A conversation I had with a mobile DJ over the weekend was the catalyst for this mini-rant. The role of the club DJ has become not entirely dissimilar to that of the mobile DJ, playing only the familiar to instantly appease the dancefloor. The blame falls primarily to venues who set this agenda in order to chase the quick buck at the expense of long term viability, micromanaging their DJs and killing any hope of individual creativity (although it could be argued some never had any to begin with). So instead of something unique and different that they may enjoy given half a chance, they give their customers exactly what they want and as a result, lose their hand. As important as it is to be receptive to the consumer, when a venue acquiesces completely any trace of power in this relationship is lost and with it the chance of building an independent lasting identity for themselves. Clubs that say the customer is always right or we give them what they want, would suggest to me that they are always wrong or perhaps more accurately, they dont have a clue.

Begging is pathetic. And dont think we dont realise that either.

For a city of just over 1 million, the turnover of clubs and bars is quite astounding with the closure of well over a dozen venues in the CBD in the past 18 months. Why? Because very little loyalty still exists between venues and their patrons. Practically identical save for the cup size of the person pouring your drink and layout, what is stopping the crowds from leaving when the next hot new joint throws open their doors offering even cheaper drinks and even bustier bar staff with the promise of being a revolutionary clubbing adventure after more than likely poaching the same DJ line-up?

Thank god then for Sugar, Electric Circus and their ilk who make a conscious decision to challenge their regulars everytime they walk through the doors with music and an experience that is fresh and exciting. Their regulars are exactly that because they genuinely anticipate what mischief the next weekend has in store and never knowing what to expect. By providing something that has substance rather than the typical smoke and mirrors, they have managed to build a unique, credible identity that sets them apart from the multitude of struggling venues rehashing the same tired formula.

Clubs and pubs were once considered entirely different entities. Now the experience is largely interchangeable except for the dancefloor. This is a situation being played out not just in Adelaide but in cities all around the world where our culture struggles for acceptability. This is why I sincerely hope that DJs and club owners may find some resonance with this column and that clubbing may again be as exciting for the public as it once and still is for us. The transition may not be an easy one, but it would certainly be preferable to this slippery slope toward irrelevance.

It is an activity that we really enjoy doing as a family and look forward.

Like most people, our working week is frantic as we juggle the twin demands of work and raising a young child.

When I was younger, single and not a parent, life was more or less free flowing and unstructured. However as my familial and professional obligations grew that fluidity soon descended into chaos.

Having something simple and pleasurable at the end of the week, week in, week out, that we look forward helps lend some structure and order to our lives. Instead of that empty feeling Monday morning wondering where the weekend went, I now start the week focused and content knowing that I’ve done something useful and spent quality time with the most important people in my life.