Yesterday we were going out to dinner and after coming out of the bottle shop and walking down the street a man out of nowhere decided to do a very hard side-kick into the side of a lady's head outside the discount store. It was early in the evening, still light out in a busy street/walkway and he stumbled back after the kick and initially I thought they must be joking around. I was going to do something, but my wife said don't do anything, just move ahead, he's probably crazy. He just followed us for a bit and then moved across to a bench.
It was strange, no one really did anything to stop this guy, he just walked away. We were all witnesses to something pretty ugly and no one could step in to stop him really. It was like everyone was thinking the same thing, this guy is probably psychotic and could be capable of anything. He just hit a women in full view without seeming provocation. In days gone by a man hitting a women like this would attract severe retribution and perhaps it still should. My wife was obviously concerned for my safety and she made me question what I should do, change my instincts, which were to do something.
In this particular case, everyone around seemed to be questioning themselves whether or not to do something, some ladies near by at least rang the police straight away to come. I thought there might be CCTV footage somewhere at least where they would catch the guy.
That was our start to the night out, we then proceeded to dinner to meet friends and told them about our run in. My friend said straight away I would have bashed the guy "Who does that to a women" he said, and I thought straight away, I wish I had done the same. I said "Let's go now and find him", "It's probably not too late to find the guy."
Today, I rang the police to find out if it was reported and I was glad to hear the incident was reported and that they did have footage of the incident. Perhaps some justice will be served after the event, and they said the lady was okay, nothing broken, just a little shaken up.
Friday 11 October 2013
truth about drugs
Drugs, pharmaceutical, recreational, street drugs, societies have been taking them through the ages at one time or another. In recent times, I have had to take pain killers and have enjoyed the calming affect on severe pain they have offered. Seems okay and perfectly alright when they are prescribed for pain you are exhibiting of very painful things happening to your body.
When younger, I knew people who took drugs recreationally, when it was the thing to do at dance parties. Ecstasy just hit the streets and lot's of people were taking them to get you to that place on a Saturday night at the latest dance party or rave in a location you had no previous knowledge of ever existing within your city limits. It seemed okay, we were young and that's what the young were doing at that time. It wasn't often for most people, it was just on those big occasions,you didn't need the feeling 24x7, only when the occasion called for an extra boost, or liftoff to make it a memorable night.
Now, for instance a friend's son, who is at this age and the friend is now experiencing what it must have been like for their parents, the worry if your kids are taking drugs or not, but it's a little different now. Now you know what they are doing, now it's a little more open with your child, if you are lucky, the dialogue of what they are doing, what they are taking when they go out to a club or an event. When they say they are taking ecstasy tabs into a big event, you think okay, be careful, try not to get caught, but they don't really want to listen.
You are still young, you say to them, what about if you get caught now, it means a criminal record, if you have a conviction against your name, that could be a bad thing. You might never be able to travel to certain countries, or find work there. Certain career choices might not be available to you, all for a quick thrill with legally outlawed substances that have penalties associated with their use and carriage upon person.
They (the kid's) know the risk they are taking and are still prepared to take this risk, unlike in our days of Hordern dance parties and raves which weren't policed, today they are. Drug sniffing dogs, police outside and inside venues, venue staff working with the police to tip them off. This all conspires to make the journey for our youth through these experimental times, much harder than it appeared or was for us.
What's strange about this, is with all this knowledge and all these risks, the kids are still doing it, despite all the warning's crackdowns, even instances of where their friends have been caught with harsh consequences. I don't think it's unique to us here in Australia either, but perhaps our young are paying harsher penalties for experimentation. How do drugs still get taken at these venues, how do they beat the sniffer dogs and searches? Is it a case of just sheer penetration of numbers of people taking them into these venues that they can't catch everyone of them. The kids are smart too, they get their girlfriends to wrap them up and put them you know where to beat the sniffer dogs. Is it just a token presence the police are giving at the venues and even they know they won't really be able to do much against it, catch the odd drug dealer and they are happy with those kind of results.
I would be happier obviously if we moved away from this drug, drinking culture that we have found ourselves in these days. I think you have to be careful when you make these blanket statements though, I think it's worse in certain age groups and even worse in some cities, in some Ice has crippled communities. It's hard, it really is, how did we get ourselves to this point, drugs cost and then they cost some more, on the people who take them and on society as a whole. Has the crackdown policing worked, or have things gotten worse?
On some level, I hope and trust that my friends son, is/was like the generation before and just going through a phase, a time or passage, that he is smart enough to navigate his way through successfully and not get caught or punished. He has some awareness, as does his dad and I have some awareness of what he is going through. We all went through the same kind of stuff. His father is there for him, and an example in a way to him, he got through and he's okay, a fully functioning adult, with no dependencies on drugs or alcohol. I really thought it would be easier by now and I am surprised to find it's not in a way, it's harder for kids and teenagers now, the same as us though, they don't open up too readily (these boys) so it's hard to gauge how prevalent it is right now amongst their peers.
In our circle of friends and their kids, we already know 2 kids of friends that have been caught with more than 1 or 2 tablets and they risk very harsh penalties and a criminal record.
In a positive way we are more open about this sort of thing and there is much more information about everything, yet at the same time there is more of a crackdown and criminalisation of it, which is out of whack when applied to all teenagers, who all seem to be doing, just what some of us did, nothing more (apart from ice), which is on the rise again.
When younger, I knew people who took drugs recreationally, when it was the thing to do at dance parties. Ecstasy just hit the streets and lot's of people were taking them to get you to that place on a Saturday night at the latest dance party or rave in a location you had no previous knowledge of ever existing within your city limits. It seemed okay, we were young and that's what the young were doing at that time. It wasn't often for most people, it was just on those big occasions,you didn't need the feeling 24x7, only when the occasion called for an extra boost, or liftoff to make it a memorable night.
Now, for instance a friend's son, who is at this age and the friend is now experiencing what it must have been like for their parents, the worry if your kids are taking drugs or not, but it's a little different now. Now you know what they are doing, now it's a little more open with your child, if you are lucky, the dialogue of what they are doing, what they are taking when they go out to a club or an event. When they say they are taking ecstasy tabs into a big event, you think okay, be careful, try not to get caught, but they don't really want to listen.
You are still young, you say to them, what about if you get caught now, it means a criminal record, if you have a conviction against your name, that could be a bad thing. You might never be able to travel to certain countries, or find work there. Certain career choices might not be available to you, all for a quick thrill with legally outlawed substances that have penalties associated with their use and carriage upon person.
They (the kid's) know the risk they are taking and are still prepared to take this risk, unlike in our days of Hordern dance parties and raves which weren't policed, today they are. Drug sniffing dogs, police outside and inside venues, venue staff working with the police to tip them off. This all conspires to make the journey for our youth through these experimental times, much harder than it appeared or was for us.
What's strange about this, is with all this knowledge and all these risks, the kids are still doing it, despite all the warning's crackdowns, even instances of where their friends have been caught with harsh consequences. I don't think it's unique to us here in Australia either, but perhaps our young are paying harsher penalties for experimentation. How do drugs still get taken at these venues, how do they beat the sniffer dogs and searches? Is it a case of just sheer penetration of numbers of people taking them into these venues that they can't catch everyone of them. The kids are smart too, they get their girlfriends to wrap them up and put them you know where to beat the sniffer dogs. Is it just a token presence the police are giving at the venues and even they know they won't really be able to do much against it, catch the odd drug dealer and they are happy with those kind of results.
I would be happier obviously if we moved away from this drug, drinking culture that we have found ourselves in these days. I think you have to be careful when you make these blanket statements though, I think it's worse in certain age groups and even worse in some cities, in some Ice has crippled communities. It's hard, it really is, how did we get ourselves to this point, drugs cost and then they cost some more, on the people who take them and on society as a whole. Has the crackdown policing worked, or have things gotten worse?
On some level, I hope and trust that my friends son, is/was like the generation before and just going through a phase, a time or passage, that he is smart enough to navigate his way through successfully and not get caught or punished. He has some awareness, as does his dad and I have some awareness of what he is going through. We all went through the same kind of stuff. His father is there for him, and an example in a way to him, he got through and he's okay, a fully functioning adult, with no dependencies on drugs or alcohol. I really thought it would be easier by now and I am surprised to find it's not in a way, it's harder for kids and teenagers now, the same as us though, they don't open up too readily (these boys) so it's hard to gauge how prevalent it is right now amongst their peers.
In our circle of friends and their kids, we already know 2 kids of friends that have been caught with more than 1 or 2 tablets and they risk very harsh penalties and a criminal record.
In a positive way we are more open about this sort of thing and there is much more information about everything, yet at the same time there is more of a crackdown and criminalisation of it, which is out of whack when applied to all teenagers, who all seem to be doing, just what some of us did, nothing more (apart from ice), which is on the rise again.
Wednesday 9 October 2013
Near end of world scenario
I would like to expand on a previous philosophical concept idea around the potential use/misuse of technology to save mankind in a bleak future on the brink of extinction. If you like, it's kind of like a future war of the world's where technology versus God
history of supercomputers so far (2 - nil)
supercomputers vs Chess master (initially lost but then famously won, (Deep Blue vs Gary Kasparov)
supercomputers vs Jeopardy (US game show) (also initially lost but won, when new logic algorithms were added)
There's this overriding idea that technology and the spread of it and the power of it is only good and can only come to good. We are driving this idea every day, living this dream of short term obsolescence, whatever we buy today is obsolete by next year in a technology/computer sense.
What if this thinking is driving us to a point down the track that we cannot escape from or turn back, creating our own demise.
The NSA is already developing a huge data centre in the Utah dessert that can possibly hold all of the worlds data in a few years, for obvious reasons they believe this a good and desirous thing.
There is this philosophical idea too that perhaps in the future computers would be powerful enough to store all of mankind's information, details from the beginning of time, our very own human and animal DNA, our very essence and memories of every person that ever lived.
For me this is where the philosophical gets a bit lost to the practical side, exactly how this could be done is a mystery. The idea is, that at some point in this future time, there might be some knowledge that the end is nigh and that the computers could save mankind by rebooting us back to the beginning (pretend they exist out in space somewhere safe from the annihilation).
At the second of annihilation or what those religious might believe is the Epiphany or Parousia (or the 2nd coming), (you see the computers are self-aware in the future and predictive and they will be able to tell), they will powerful enough and enough enough power to generate a new future world, where the whole thing gets replayed over again even creating physical worlds think very large 3D or 4D printer.. (perhaps also in a new time dimension vortex).
Who knows, we could be going through the 2nd or 49th reboot already, how would you know? What if this happened and it prevented everyone's final ascension, if you like keeping us in a state of purgatory until the supercomputers die, for surely they would have to eventually. There could also be a duality of existence at play, where everyone did ascend and we also live our replayed lives out at the same time, unbeknownst to both selves.
It is a funny philosophical idea this, that someone came up with and I espoused on, which kind of shows the stupid faith that we put on computers and technology in general. More of a concern to me is the NSA and other US government agencies and there potential to start playing God, with the use of the first supercomputers (IBM) that can store all the world's flow of information, phone calls, emails, chat sessions, even the dark web. Now how do you stop that? That which is already legislated for.
history of supercomputers so far (2 - nil)
supercomputers vs Chess master (initially lost but then famously won, (Deep Blue vs Gary Kasparov)
supercomputers vs Jeopardy (US game show) (also initially lost but won, when new logic algorithms were added)
There's this overriding idea that technology and the spread of it and the power of it is only good and can only come to good. We are driving this idea every day, living this dream of short term obsolescence, whatever we buy today is obsolete by next year in a technology/computer sense.
What if this thinking is driving us to a point down the track that we cannot escape from or turn back, creating our own demise.
The NSA is already developing a huge data centre in the Utah dessert that can possibly hold all of the worlds data in a few years, for obvious reasons they believe this a good and desirous thing.
There is this philosophical idea too that perhaps in the future computers would be powerful enough to store all of mankind's information, details from the beginning of time, our very own human and animal DNA, our very essence and memories of every person that ever lived.
For me this is where the philosophical gets a bit lost to the practical side, exactly how this could be done is a mystery. The idea is, that at some point in this future time, there might be some knowledge that the end is nigh and that the computers could save mankind by rebooting us back to the beginning (pretend they exist out in space somewhere safe from the annihilation).
At the second of annihilation or what those religious might believe is the Epiphany or Parousia (or the 2nd coming), (you see the computers are self-aware in the future and predictive and they will be able to tell), they will powerful enough and enough enough power to generate a new future world, where the whole thing gets replayed over again even creating physical worlds think very large 3D or 4D printer.. (perhaps also in a new time dimension vortex).
Who knows, we could be going through the 2nd or 49th reboot already, how would you know? What if this happened and it prevented everyone's final ascension, if you like keeping us in a state of purgatory until the supercomputers die, for surely they would have to eventually. There could also be a duality of existence at play, where everyone did ascend and we also live our replayed lives out at the same time, unbeknownst to both selves.
It is a funny philosophical idea this, that someone came up with and I espoused on, which kind of shows the stupid faith that we put on computers and technology in general. More of a concern to me is the NSA and other US government agencies and there potential to start playing God, with the use of the first supercomputers (IBM) that can store all the world's flow of information, phone calls, emails, chat sessions, even the dark web. Now how do you stop that? That which is already legislated for.
Tuesday 8 October 2013
Lost in translation - More like totally messed up in translation
My first post was called Greek Grandma, probably not my best post grammatically and most likely why it's meaning and content gets totally messed up during Google translate from English to German then back to English.
Here is an extract from the original post:
"You see i know her Grand daughter, her grand daughter is my wife's younger sister's child. My wife's younger sister was married to the Greek Grandmother's son for a while (and she had a child together with him). They have now been apart for a number of years and the Greek Grandma has probably not seen her grandchild for some time. " ( Note: i have had to change this so it translates better than the original).
This is what it becomes through the Google translate tool:
You see, I know her grand-daughter, her granddaughter, my wife is the younger sister's child. My wife's sister was once the Greek Grandma's son (had a child together) have married and apart for some time and the Greek grandmother probably has not seen her granddaughter for some time.
I was wondering why I had a number of German blog followers, perhaps of the transgender variety given the changed content of this post. I also wonder now, what the German translation might be of some of my other posts. I would love to know from a German person if the Google translate tool is accurate in this case and how this post went over with you.
Given the global nature of bloggers and posts, it kind of does make you question what the perception might be when your posts are translated rightly (probably a rare thing) or wrongly and how this could impact your following and in this case potentially the reason for following. Those Germans must have been thinking this Australian has one crazy messed up family! To those people, I am sorry to disappoint you.
If you are German and you are reading my posts, I would love to hear from you in the comments section if any of what I said has an element of truth or not in regards to how you view these posts in German.
Here is an extract from the original post:
"You see i know her Grand daughter, her grand daughter is my wife's younger sister's child. My wife's younger sister was married to the Greek Grandmother's son for a while (and she had a child together with him). They have now been apart for a number of years and the Greek Grandma has probably not seen her grandchild for some time. " ( Note: i have had to change this so it translates better than the original).
This is what it becomes through the Google translate tool:
You see, I know her grand-daughter, her granddaughter, my wife is the younger sister's child. My wife's sister was once the Greek Grandma's son (had a child together) have married and apart for some time and the Greek grandmother probably has not seen her granddaughter for some time.
I was wondering why I had a number of German blog followers, perhaps of the transgender variety given the changed content of this post. I also wonder now, what the German translation might be of some of my other posts. I would love to know from a German person if the Google translate tool is accurate in this case and how this post went over with you.
Given the global nature of bloggers and posts, it kind of does make you question what the perception might be when your posts are translated rightly (probably a rare thing) or wrongly and how this could impact your following and in this case potentially the reason for following. Those Germans must have been thinking this Australian has one crazy messed up family! To those people, I am sorry to disappoint you.
If you are German and you are reading my posts, I would love to hear from you in the comments section if any of what I said has an element of truth or not in regards to how you view these posts in German.
Friday 27 September 2013
light
Warm, fuzzy, phantasmagorical glowing rays of bright light shining through, around, over, abounding, piercing, pulsating, unwavering escaping the boundaries of time and place. Origins of these rays of light come from a huge mass that sucks up and consumes and Lords' over 98% of our solar systems mass, this raging, tumultuous massive ball begins life, it gives life to the dark, it seeks the dark out on its unwavering mission and wants to rid the darkness away, banish that corrosive darkness from it's very existence. It spawns, burns, erupts and breathes new life form into being, turning on the solar, providing a natural organic force. We are but a tiny little spec drawn into it's overriding, ever frothing, boiling and renewing mass, like a moth to the light, we want to get closer and closer to it's glowing and giving warmth, even when we know that if we get to close it can burn and destroy us.
In each of us this DNA exists, we are all made up of stars, even if we might be living in the gutter and provides the same nourishing essence.... and renewable energy. Our planets lifeforms and our own bodies and lives over time have adapted to tune into and turn onto this life giving force. Seek out the light, let it penetrate through to your soul, caress you and turn away the dark side, dark forces that may be just as alluring, seeking and penetrating as the light forces that abound the solar systems, galaxies, universes and hereto unspeakable unknowns.
In each of us this DNA exists, we are all made up of stars, even if we might be living in the gutter and provides the same nourishing essence.... and renewable energy. Our planets lifeforms and our own bodies and lives over time have adapted to tune into and turn onto this life giving force. Seek out the light, let it penetrate through to your soul, caress you and turn away the dark side, dark forces that may be just as alluring, seeking and penetrating as the light forces that abound the solar systems, galaxies, universes and hereto unspeakable unknowns.
Thursday 26 September 2013
dark recesses of time
The utter stark darkness, oppressively black and unfiltered, unmassed and withdrawn, pulling back hard with a grossness of gravity, long forgotten remains of what it contains and it's purpose or raison d'etre. This is how i think of dark forgotten corners of the universe, multiverse, fabric of time and space, like the dark foreboding corner rooms covered in layers of cobwebs and dust over eons of time, of an old and forgotten dis-used haunted house. So to the dark corner recesses of haunted memories from past, hidden from view of the mind's eye, protecting you from what lies there... too far away and distant to contemplate searching and pulling out from the dark corners to inspect and pore over. Better to stay there in the darkness far away, unknowing, long forgotten, gathering more darkness and dust moving further away from the light. A tiny glimmer, ray of light perhaps shining out of some sunnier spectrum casts itself upon something and it triggers a hint, a clue of what can be remembered if you choose to pull off the cobwebs, dust off the grime, search into the dark, darkly darkness of it.
Tuesday 17 September 2013
change of plans
We were travelling in August at the same time the Olympic games were on in Sydney. My wife, son who was nearly 7 and I caught up with friends in Tunisia, in Tunis and we all decided to go on a 5 day bus tour through parts of Tunisia. At the end of the trip we were going to go to Jerba and catch up with my friend who couldn't come on the bus tour with us. The language barrier was a little tricky as they speak Arabic and French as their main languages, German and Italian being the other languages they know, with English being right down on the list.
We had the bus greet us at the designated spot and met our Tunisian driver and the other 2 tourists taking the bus with us, a young Norwegian couple. We set off on the long drive and stopped off at our first city after Sousse, El Jem, that had an amazing Roman Colosseum that was relatively intact. Our tour guide was a local Tunisian guy who could speak French and English. The majority of the people on the tour were French, so he would talk in French first and then in English for a few of us, including the Norwegians.
The next stop was Sfax which is a seaside town further South.
It was a memorable road trip through the countryside of Tunisia, apart from the coastal parts of this country the inland areas are fairly barren especially on the salt plains which we drove through, for a full day's driving. Just looking out at the horizon that stretches on forever, looking for mirages. I remember seeing palm trees and an oasis that wasn't really there at all, very weird.
After hours of driving the bus stopped at an undergound place that was one of the scenes from the Star Wars film and we had lunch there. There were a few side excursions on the tour and sometimes my wife and her friend wouldn't go as they didn't seem to be getting on with the Tunisian tour guide man, who they thought were favouring the French over us English speaking folk. One afternoon tour was another Star Wars location that was in part of the Sahara desert and we all decided not to go on this trip, including the Norwegian friends we made. We stayed in the hotel instead and drank cocktails by the pool and swam and took it easy in the sweltering Sahara heat. Of course when the French tourists came back they raved about the tour, and I remember feeling regret that I didn't go, they all said it was an amazing sunset.
I think that night after dinner I decided to watch some of the Olympics on the TV in the hotel with some of the French people on the tour, I went by myself and the girls did something by themselves. I think Thorpe was swimming a final in the 200M or 400M freestyle and the French were asking me about Thorpe and Australia and I was asking them a bit about where they were from. They found it quite incredible that we had chosen to go on holiday while the Olympics were on in our home city, which i guess you can understand, I felt a little regret that we had done this, but still had a great holiday.
It was around this time that my wife's friend got a call from her Tunisian boyfriend to say he could meet up with us somewhere now as he could get away from his family duties now. After much discussion it was decided that we would cut the trip short and try and get a driver to drive us to Jerba, a small island, kind of like the Gold Coast of Tunisia, with casino's and big hotels. After a while we managed to score a driver who would take us half way across the Tunisian countryside for around $100 Australian which was a pretty good deal really. I wasn't that happy to cut short our tour as there was 2 or 3 days left on it and I thought it was a little extravagant to give those days up as we had paid a lot for the tour. It was pointless to argue against 2 women, i was on a hiding to nothing. They continued to argue with the tour guide who was peeved we were leaving the tour and I think this pissed the women off further and it ended with a heated conversation between our Tunisian friend and him in Tunisian, where he told him off basically. It wasn't a graceful way to end our tour experience, but it was memorable. I think they were more glad than I was we were leaving the tour, I couldn't understand why they just didn't try to get along with everyone.
We had another long day of driving, back past the salt plains, through the Sahara and to the coast and to the ferry that would take us over to Jerba. We spoke to a nice Libyan couple on the ferry who spoke really good English and were also going on a holiday to Jerba. Meanwhile both our sons made friends with the captain of the car ferry and were even wearing his Captain's hat at one stage and he didn't seem to mind being harassed by 7 year old rascals. It was a wonderful thing about Tunisia how great they are with kids and they have all the time in the world for them and they seem to really know how to appreciate family and have the most fun together.
After a little while driving around, found a hotel eventually the one that our Tunisian friend said to try first we didn't really like and we ended up going for something a little more upmarket. I think we had a day by ourselves before our Tunisian friend turned up. The change of plans turned out okay in the end as we had a few more memorable days in Jerba, riding camels and horses on the beach, visiting markets, lounging by the pool surrounded by bodacious beautiful bronzed Italian bodies, like something out of a Sabrina (Girls, Girls, Girls) video clip.
We had the bus greet us at the designated spot and met our Tunisian driver and the other 2 tourists taking the bus with us, a young Norwegian couple. We set off on the long drive and stopped off at our first city after Sousse, El Jem, that had an amazing Roman Colosseum that was relatively intact. Our tour guide was a local Tunisian guy who could speak French and English. The majority of the people on the tour were French, so he would talk in French first and then in English for a few of us, including the Norwegians.
The next stop was Sfax which is a seaside town further South.
It was a memorable road trip through the countryside of Tunisia, apart from the coastal parts of this country the inland areas are fairly barren especially on the salt plains which we drove through, for a full day's driving. Just looking out at the horizon that stretches on forever, looking for mirages. I remember seeing palm trees and an oasis that wasn't really there at all, very weird.
After hours of driving the bus stopped at an undergound place that was one of the scenes from the Star Wars film and we had lunch there. There were a few side excursions on the tour and sometimes my wife and her friend wouldn't go as they didn't seem to be getting on with the Tunisian tour guide man, who they thought were favouring the French over us English speaking folk. One afternoon tour was another Star Wars location that was in part of the Sahara desert and we all decided not to go on this trip, including the Norwegian friends we made. We stayed in the hotel instead and drank cocktails by the pool and swam and took it easy in the sweltering Sahara heat. Of course when the French tourists came back they raved about the tour, and I remember feeling regret that I didn't go, they all said it was an amazing sunset.
I think that night after dinner I decided to watch some of the Olympics on the TV in the hotel with some of the French people on the tour, I went by myself and the girls did something by themselves. I think Thorpe was swimming a final in the 200M or 400M freestyle and the French were asking me about Thorpe and Australia and I was asking them a bit about where they were from. They found it quite incredible that we had chosen to go on holiday while the Olympics were on in our home city, which i guess you can understand, I felt a little regret that we had done this, but still had a great holiday.
It was around this time that my wife's friend got a call from her Tunisian boyfriend to say he could meet up with us somewhere now as he could get away from his family duties now. After much discussion it was decided that we would cut the trip short and try and get a driver to drive us to Jerba, a small island, kind of like the Gold Coast of Tunisia, with casino's and big hotels. After a while we managed to score a driver who would take us half way across the Tunisian countryside for around $100 Australian which was a pretty good deal really. I wasn't that happy to cut short our tour as there was 2 or 3 days left on it and I thought it was a little extravagant to give those days up as we had paid a lot for the tour. It was pointless to argue against 2 women, i was on a hiding to nothing. They continued to argue with the tour guide who was peeved we were leaving the tour and I think this pissed the women off further and it ended with a heated conversation between our Tunisian friend and him in Tunisian, where he told him off basically. It wasn't a graceful way to end our tour experience, but it was memorable. I think they were more glad than I was we were leaving the tour, I couldn't understand why they just didn't try to get along with everyone.
We had another long day of driving, back past the salt plains, through the Sahara and to the coast and to the ferry that would take us over to Jerba. We spoke to a nice Libyan couple on the ferry who spoke really good English and were also going on a holiday to Jerba. Meanwhile both our sons made friends with the captain of the car ferry and were even wearing his Captain's hat at one stage and he didn't seem to mind being harassed by 7 year old rascals. It was a wonderful thing about Tunisia how great they are with kids and they have all the time in the world for them and they seem to really know how to appreciate family and have the most fun together.
After a little while driving around, found a hotel eventually the one that our Tunisian friend said to try first we didn't really like and we ended up going for something a little more upmarket. I think we had a day by ourselves before our Tunisian friend turned up. The change of plans turned out okay in the end as we had a few more memorable days in Jerba, riding camels and horses on the beach, visiting markets, lounging by the pool surrounded by bodacious beautiful bronzed Italian bodies, like something out of a Sabrina (Girls, Girls, Girls) video clip.
Thursday 18 July 2013
Baby climber
When i was a baby, I don't remember much, if anything, like most in this regard. I vaguely remember my first house at Castlecrag that we lived in, but that was as a toddler. I have been told by my mother and family that i was good crawler and climber and that before I could walk I would even climb up and out the window, perhaps i was trying to escape from my older brother and sisters, or i was just a natural explorer from an early age. One day I even made it up the road to the butcher's around the corner. I must have looked an odd site as i crawled up the road and then down the main road on the footpath. The butcher called my mum, who would have come and picked me up and felt quite embarrassed I would imagine, letting her baby crawl around the suburbs. I wonder what propelled me to do that, I just wanted to look around my neighbourhood, check everything out, see what else there was out there. I did not want to be confined to a mere house and backyard.
I have memories of our first dog, first firecracker night, or one that i remember fondly. Sleeping at night with a rocket tucked up under my pillow ready for the big bonfire night, where i could let it off.
When i was a bit older i progressed to climbing trees and rocks and loved to climb up to the top of anything i could find. The parents would worry that I would fall, but i never did and felt confident climbing up any type of tree to it's extremities, in the smallest of branches and nooks. It was my thing, that i was known for, my sister would sometimes climb as well and we would both be up trees in our yards, or out the back of our place in the bush. It was a great past-time, climbing trees, elevating oneself beyond the mundane boundaries of the ground dwellers below.
I have memories of our first dog, first firecracker night, or one that i remember fondly. Sleeping at night with a rocket tucked up under my pillow ready for the big bonfire night, where i could let it off.
When i was a bit older i progressed to climbing trees and rocks and loved to climb up to the top of anything i could find. The parents would worry that I would fall, but i never did and felt confident climbing up any type of tree to it's extremities, in the smallest of branches and nooks. It was my thing, that i was known for, my sister would sometimes climb as well and we would both be up trees in our yards, or out the back of our place in the bush. It was a great past-time, climbing trees, elevating oneself beyond the mundane boundaries of the ground dwellers below.
Tuesday 16 July 2013
Dream
I don't often dream, or maybe I do but don't often remember them. I always put this down to being a heavy,deep sleeper, oblivious to everything. The dreams and nightmares you have as a child are remembered. I think everyone had the dream as a child of falling from far above the clouds, for what seems like an age, falling but not worried about the consequences, for a time at least. Then the building tension as you keep falling, feeling in control but this feeling slowly changing as you realize that at some point you will hit earth. In your dream state you try and correct this, as you don't want your dream interrupted by smacking into land. Then in your dream state, the rising panic as you know you are surely going to hit earth. A part of you knows it is a dream and you are safe, but another part is not so sure. You startle awake as it all gets too much and you realize you were dreaming. It's like you were checking that you were just dreaming and are relieved that it was the case.
Other dreams linger with you, as you are not sure of their meaning, or their meaning changes over time. I have one such dream.
I had this dream in my early twenties. I was driving in a car on the way to work, past well known landmarks. I had another passenger, a female, slightly older on my left hand side. We were extremely comfortable in each other's company, like we were soulmates, I was the happiest most contented human being alive and we were on this journey together. We were joking and laughing as we weaved in and out of traffic on my way to work in busy peak hour traffic. On the way, around Neutral bay junction somewhere I stopped on the side of the road, so we could swap sides and let her drive for a while. She was an attractive blond, familiar and known, but at the same time no one I knew.
I went around to the left hand side of the car to get in and as I got in on my side another woman changed spots with the driver I was getting on so well with and got in and started driving off. I was looking back behind searching for the other woman and felt a little panicked and perplexed that this happened. The journey changed and I wasn't as fun and carefree and at ease with this new woman. We drove onto North Sydney and for some reason I got out here and in a short time walking, found myself in an underground tunnel. It was only lightly illuminated and it felt like there was going to be danger ahead. I pulled out a glistening steel sword and held it aloft in a warrior pose. I made my way down the winding tunnel and was slaying everything in my wake, like this was somehow my destiny.
That was about it really. At the the time I thought it was one of the most strange dreams I ever had. Could this dream have been trying to tell me something, I wonder?
Other dreams linger with you, as you are not sure of their meaning, or their meaning changes over time. I have one such dream.
I had this dream in my early twenties. I was driving in a car on the way to work, past well known landmarks. I had another passenger, a female, slightly older on my left hand side. We were extremely comfortable in each other's company, like we were soulmates, I was the happiest most contented human being alive and we were on this journey together. We were joking and laughing as we weaved in and out of traffic on my way to work in busy peak hour traffic. On the way, around Neutral bay junction somewhere I stopped on the side of the road, so we could swap sides and let her drive for a while. She was an attractive blond, familiar and known, but at the same time no one I knew.
I went around to the left hand side of the car to get in and as I got in on my side another woman changed spots with the driver I was getting on so well with and got in and started driving off. I was looking back behind searching for the other woman and felt a little panicked and perplexed that this happened. The journey changed and I wasn't as fun and carefree and at ease with this new woman. We drove onto North Sydney and for some reason I got out here and in a short time walking, found myself in an underground tunnel. It was only lightly illuminated and it felt like there was going to be danger ahead. I pulled out a glistening steel sword and held it aloft in a warrior pose. I made my way down the winding tunnel and was slaying everything in my wake, like this was somehow my destiny.
That was about it really. At the the time I thought it was one of the most strange dreams I ever had. Could this dream have been trying to tell me something, I wonder?
Thursday 4 July 2013
You're adopted!
I am the youngest from a fairly large family of 5, common in the time i was growing up, not so common now. When i was little it was known that i was the second oldest sisters (protege, plaything, one to tease and help raise). The oldest sister had the second youngest, my sister who was 3 years older. I think the oldest sister got first choice, and because Marg was born first and would always be a little older and wiser, I think the second oldest sister always felt a little dudded by me and was probably sick of always coming second to the oldest sister.
At times it was fun to be pitted against each other and we both seemed to bond to our respected older sisters. I think the 2 oldest had fun keeping tabs on who was doing the better with their protege. When it got a little more serious, the oldest sister would try to undermine the second oldest sister by saying things to me, like, "you're adopted". Which i would reply in my kid like voice. "Na, I'm not", "you are!" or something like. She would persevere and say other things like "you look nothing like the rest of us, you must be adopted". And "you have freckles and none of us have" or "you burn and none of us burn, we all go brown". My assigned sister would always stick up for me and I did bond more with her over the years and liked her rebellious streak and how she would always say what was on her mind.
I remember it being hurtful at the time and the scars i guess are still there, which is weird as it was all meant to be fun and games. It might not have been often that these things were even necessarily said, but it's funny how it doesn't take much when you are young, to believe what you hear and start to question yourself, even when faced with these blatant falsehoods.
Do the sisters still keep tabs on us, now that we have we all grown up and are now in middle age. I am not sure, but I doubt it. Who won overall, again not sure, just glad that none of us were killed or maimed in the process. In one game of tie ups Margaret accidentally knocked her head and went unconscious and had to be rushed to hospital. In another game gone wrong in the pool, either my brother or sister knocked their head on the side of the pool and were lying face down in the water for a while. At first i think we all must have thought they were joking, but after a short period, I wasn't so sure and grabbed them out and realized straight away that they were limp. Luckily enough they came too straight away and recovered with just a bruise on their head.
At times it was fun to be pitted against each other and we both seemed to bond to our respected older sisters. I think the 2 oldest had fun keeping tabs on who was doing the better with their protege. When it got a little more serious, the oldest sister would try to undermine the second oldest sister by saying things to me, like, "you're adopted". Which i would reply in my kid like voice. "Na, I'm not", "you are!" or something like. She would persevere and say other things like "you look nothing like the rest of us, you must be adopted". And "you have freckles and none of us have" or "you burn and none of us burn, we all go brown". My assigned sister would always stick up for me and I did bond more with her over the years and liked her rebellious streak and how she would always say what was on her mind.
I remember it being hurtful at the time and the scars i guess are still there, which is weird as it was all meant to be fun and games. It might not have been often that these things were even necessarily said, but it's funny how it doesn't take much when you are young, to believe what you hear and start to question yourself, even when faced with these blatant falsehoods.
Do the sisters still keep tabs on us, now that we have we all grown up and are now in middle age. I am not sure, but I doubt it. Who won overall, again not sure, just glad that none of us were killed or maimed in the process. In one game of tie ups Margaret accidentally knocked her head and went unconscious and had to be rushed to hospital. In another game gone wrong in the pool, either my brother or sister knocked their head on the side of the pool and were lying face down in the water for a while. At first i think we all must have thought they were joking, but after a short period, I wasn't so sure and grabbed them out and realized straight away that they were limp. Luckily enough they came too straight away and recovered with just a bruise on their head.
Thursday 4 April 2013
Intruder
Early on in our relationship, my current wife and I were staying at my parents place who had gone overseas for a while. It was just us two staying in the house at the time and it must have been winter as we were both in our matching winter pyjamas before heading off to bed for the night. our P.J's has big fluffy white clouds on them. I think it was still fairly early when we were in bed, all the lights in the house were turned off, and we were in the early process of sleeping when i heard a noise that sounded like it was coming from the veranda near where we were sleeping, it sounded like someone was trying to open the door. I freaked out and decided to call the police on the mobile straight away. From the bed i grabbed the mobile phone and dialled 000. I asked for police (In a whispering voice) as to not disturb the intruder. I was put through to the local police station. They asked "Mona Vale police, what seems to be problem". I whispered softly "I think someone is trying to get in at the back of my house" They said "Are they still there?" I responded "I am not sure". They then said "We will send someone there straight away. What is the address" I supplied the address and said goodbye.
I got off the phone and told the wife that they were sending someone to the house to check. By this stage we hadn't heard too many more noises and thought they might have left the vicinity.
The police showed up within 5 minutes, which really impressed me. Someone was shining torches in the backyard, I could see through from the back veranda. I thought it might be the intruder. My wife was saying to go and check who it was. I was a little unsure of this and was edging out closer to have a look. I was thinking "What if it's the intruder/robber?" "What if they have a gun? Or are crazy?"
It was cold out, even in my winter PJ's and i think i was shaking a bit, either from the cold or my nerves (not sure). I yelled out "who is there?" To which the person in the night said "The police" I said something like "Prove you are the police". Just as i said this, other police started showing up down the side of the house. One of the police said "I've got someone here, do you know this person?" "They said they were coming home from being out and came down the wrong side of the fence." They had a torch on the guy and they asked "Is this your neighbour". I said "yeh, it's okay it's my neighbour." He looked very non plussed about the whole situation and a little nervous. The police let him go and then came up to back veranda part of the house. It was at this stage that i realized that my wife and i must have looked a sight in our matching pyjamas. There were 2 female cops and 2 male officers and they said they didn't really need to take a statement or anything. We had a bit of chit chat and they then left the house. I was really impressed with the police on this occassion, the whole thing was handled extremely well and I thought at the time, I wonder if it's because of the postcode my parents live in, you wouldn't get this If I was ringing from a Redfern address.
When they left, we laughed about what just happened. She said "you were great sarcastically" "Quakes". "You were standing there quaking". I said "I was not! I was just cold" but thinking yeh she was probably right. "I didn't know if it was copper or the robber i said". I had a right to be scared.
My wife said, " I wonder what they thought of us, both standing there in our trendy matching P.J's". "Yeh Good point i said, I don't know.. maybe something like what a fashionable nice young couple". Haha..
I got off the phone and told the wife that they were sending someone to the house to check. By this stage we hadn't heard too many more noises and thought they might have left the vicinity.
The police showed up within 5 minutes, which really impressed me. Someone was shining torches in the backyard, I could see through from the back veranda. I thought it might be the intruder. My wife was saying to go and check who it was. I was a little unsure of this and was edging out closer to have a look. I was thinking "What if it's the intruder/robber?" "What if they have a gun? Or are crazy?"
It was cold out, even in my winter PJ's and i think i was shaking a bit, either from the cold or my nerves (not sure). I yelled out "who is there?" To which the person in the night said "The police" I said something like "Prove you are the police". Just as i said this, other police started showing up down the side of the house. One of the police said "I've got someone here, do you know this person?" "They said they were coming home from being out and came down the wrong side of the fence." They had a torch on the guy and they asked "Is this your neighbour". I said "yeh, it's okay it's my neighbour." He looked very non plussed about the whole situation and a little nervous. The police let him go and then came up to back veranda part of the house. It was at this stage that i realized that my wife and i must have looked a sight in our matching pyjamas. There were 2 female cops and 2 male officers and they said they didn't really need to take a statement or anything. We had a bit of chit chat and they then left the house. I was really impressed with the police on this occassion, the whole thing was handled extremely well and I thought at the time, I wonder if it's because of the postcode my parents live in, you wouldn't get this If I was ringing from a Redfern address.
When they left, we laughed about what just happened. She said "you were great sarcastically" "Quakes". "You were standing there quaking". I said "I was not! I was just cold" but thinking yeh she was probably right. "I didn't know if it was copper or the robber i said". I had a right to be scared.
My wife said, " I wonder what they thought of us, both standing there in our trendy matching P.J's". "Yeh Good point i said, I don't know.. maybe something like what a fashionable nice young couple". Haha..
Thursday 14 March 2013
Belly dancer
Night in Tunisia is a favourite jazz track of mine from Bird (Charlie Parker) and conjurs memories of a night i remember in Jerba, Tunisia. I was holidaying in Tunisia with my wife, son who was 6, wife's friend and her partner who is Tunisian and her son.
We had just arrived on the island of Jerba on a car ferry and finally decided on a hotel to stay in, a beautiful hotel on the beach with many pools and populated with many chic European (Italian, French and German) tourists.
I realized i had run out of condoms that afternoon and had to go to a local supermarket down the road from the hotel and ask for help in buying them. It was a funny conversation with the person behind the counter. At first when i asked "If they sold condoms", I just got a blank face. I then asked for a prophelactic or French letter and i think one of those made the person twig as to what i was asking and they told me what the word they used for it is. He went behind the room and was saying to one of his friends, condom, condom, that's what they call it and they were both laughing about our English word for it. He then proceeded to a locked cabinet containing only 2 brands of condoms to choose from. I was thinking it very funny and odd that they considered condoms a high price item that needed to be locked away.
Later this day we all decided to go out to dinner in the restaurant as they were going to have a belly dancing show and we all thought we needed a bit of culture. An attractive Tunisian women came out and was belly dancing around the tables and trying to get some of the tables involved a bit and moved to our table and managed to entice get me to get up and have a bit of a wiggle with me. Shen then managed to get my shirt off and blindfold and lead me up to the front of the restaurant. I was now wondering what was going to happen next and felt the touch of lips on my lips and without thought didn't pull back, not knowing for sure who it was I was kissing, just that it felt good. There were many laughs and gaffaws around the restaurant. The belly dancer then took off the blindfold and my wife was up the front with me, in front of me and smiling at me, at which point i felt a little let down. No, not really only joking, I kind of suspected that this was what was happening. I then headed back to our table with my wife and our friends at the table couldn't believe that i kissed back and thought it said something about my faithfulness, something along those lines. We all had the biggest laughs about it. Hell, either way i thought, it was a win/win for me.. I had my condoms, i was ready to go.
We had just arrived on the island of Jerba on a car ferry and finally decided on a hotel to stay in, a beautiful hotel on the beach with many pools and populated with many chic European (Italian, French and German) tourists.
I realized i had run out of condoms that afternoon and had to go to a local supermarket down the road from the hotel and ask for help in buying them. It was a funny conversation with the person behind the counter. At first when i asked "If they sold condoms", I just got a blank face. I then asked for a prophelactic or French letter and i think one of those made the person twig as to what i was asking and they told me what the word they used for it is. He went behind the room and was saying to one of his friends, condom, condom, that's what they call it and they were both laughing about our English word for it. He then proceeded to a locked cabinet containing only 2 brands of condoms to choose from. I was thinking it very funny and odd that they considered condoms a high price item that needed to be locked away.
Later this day we all decided to go out to dinner in the restaurant as they were going to have a belly dancing show and we all thought we needed a bit of culture. An attractive Tunisian women came out and was belly dancing around the tables and trying to get some of the tables involved a bit and moved to our table and managed to entice get me to get up and have a bit of a wiggle with me. Shen then managed to get my shirt off and blindfold and lead me up to the front of the restaurant. I was now wondering what was going to happen next and felt the touch of lips on my lips and without thought didn't pull back, not knowing for sure who it was I was kissing, just that it felt good. There were many laughs and gaffaws around the restaurant. The belly dancer then took off the blindfold and my wife was up the front with me, in front of me and smiling at me, at which point i felt a little let down. No, not really only joking, I kind of suspected that this was what was happening. I then headed back to our table with my wife and our friends at the table couldn't believe that i kissed back and thought it said something about my faithfulness, something along those lines. We all had the biggest laughs about it. Hell, either way i thought, it was a win/win for me.. I had my condoms, i was ready to go.
Monday 25 February 2013
split my flares
I would have been 19 or 20/21 and living at home still with my family in Seaforth. I was seeing these 2 younger local girls a lot, Alison and Sabrina, both 17. This was in the late 80's somewhere around 1986-1989, the haylcon days, the dance party days. There was a dance party every second or third weekend at the Hordern Pavillion and other venues around this time and they were massive events. This one was going to be huge, it had a bit of a 70's retro in a space age feel to it, this particular one. I needed a pair of white 70's flares and Sabrina's dad came through with a pair, they were probably a size too small and a little tight around the bum, but I went with them. I had a silver shirt and some cool silver jewellery and this pair of space age shoes. The chicks were done up as well and we all looked cool and groovy man. We picked up a couple of other friends at the wharf and we all looked a sight.
We hit the manly ferry with our goon bag (white wine cask) and started drinking on the way over to the city, which was a great ritual.
We got to the Hordern and we proceeded to boogie, there was a huge platform stage in the middle of the dance floor with the Saturday night fever flashing coloured lights lighting up our way. Sabrina and Allison jumped up first and I asked for help to be lifted up as i was not very dexterous in my uber tight white flares. Alison and Sabrina pulled me up and I was still crouched down a bit as I got up and heard a splitting sound emit from downstairs. It was the flares, i had split my flares man, it was loud and i think i was yelling at Sabrina, "I split my flares" and I was pointing down and laughing. They both started laughing at me and after we all calmed down, I was asking them what I could do, I was on a big downer and was saying I should just go home, my night was ruined. These resourceful chicks would have none of that and one of them managed to find a few safety pins. They must have envisioned that at some stage I would split my too tight flares.
Very carefully, they helped pull the tear in and used the safety pin to keep it all together, the split was at the front of the flares, not around the back, so it kind of looked a bit weird having these 3 large safety pins up the front of my flares. It did the trick and gave me the confidence to stay and boogie on down, however not as hard and not as down as I would have normally.
Later on that night we ended up in Hyde Park South just lying out on the grass and philosophising and thinking we would just fall asleep under the stars. We were there around an hour before we took off home, realising that we would wake up in the sun dressed as we were and would have to get home looking like freaks in the light of day.
We hit the manly ferry with our goon bag (white wine cask) and started drinking on the way over to the city, which was a great ritual.
We got to the Hordern and we proceeded to boogie, there was a huge platform stage in the middle of the dance floor with the Saturday night fever flashing coloured lights lighting up our way. Sabrina and Allison jumped up first and I asked for help to be lifted up as i was not very dexterous in my uber tight white flares. Alison and Sabrina pulled me up and I was still crouched down a bit as I got up and heard a splitting sound emit from downstairs. It was the flares, i had split my flares man, it was loud and i think i was yelling at Sabrina, "I split my flares" and I was pointing down and laughing. They both started laughing at me and after we all calmed down, I was asking them what I could do, I was on a big downer and was saying I should just go home, my night was ruined. These resourceful chicks would have none of that and one of them managed to find a few safety pins. They must have envisioned that at some stage I would split my too tight flares.
Very carefully, they helped pull the tear in and used the safety pin to keep it all together, the split was at the front of the flares, not around the back, so it kind of looked a bit weird having these 3 large safety pins up the front of my flares. It did the trick and gave me the confidence to stay and boogie on down, however not as hard and not as down as I would have normally.
Later on that night we ended up in Hyde Park South just lying out on the grass and philosophising and thinking we would just fall asleep under the stars. We were there around an hour before we took off home, realising that we would wake up in the sun dressed as we were and would have to get home looking like freaks in the light of day.
Tuesday 12 February 2013
broken glass
There we were, deep inside the bowels of the hip hop club in the late 80's, in a trance like state, boogying down, getting on down, shaking it, owning it, banging it, grooving it. Dance beats where our high, our escape, our bliss, our higher plane where we transported ourselves to, took off to. I had found a like minded fellow clubber to groove with this night, she was this very cool black Paddo chick, who could move like no other and we would often see each other out and dance and click together, fun times.
There we were, getting on down, shaking it lower and lower to dangerous booty low levels.. I was pushing it harder and harder with her our bodies in total sync with each other as we moved and grooved. All of a sudden though we somehow came out of sync and i bumped her a little hard and she tumbled over and landed on her arm, which landed on a broken glass. I helped her get up and could see that she was bleeding already and I remember being pissed off someone had left broken glass on the dance floor. A friend of hers took her to the bathroom to have a closer look at the wound. When she came out it was decided that we should take her to the hospital, it looked like it would need stitches. I decided i had to go as well, as it was my fault this accident happened.
We all piled in a taxi and took off from the Hip Hop club to the Sydney hospital emergency waiting room. It had it's usual fill of action and trauma on a Saturday night in Sydney. We chatted while we waited, it took longer than expected, we laughed at our dancing mishap and the dodginess of the fact there was broken glass around us while we danced. She got stitched up and we were no longer in the mood for clubbing so said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I saw her a couple of times in passing, once on a bus coming back from Bondi in the daytime, I remember being very pleased to see her and reminisced about our mishap and once out at a club again.. no further accidents and no further sightings since then.
There we were, getting on down, shaking it lower and lower to dangerous booty low levels.. I was pushing it harder and harder with her our bodies in total sync with each other as we moved and grooved. All of a sudden though we somehow came out of sync and i bumped her a little hard and she tumbled over and landed on her arm, which landed on a broken glass. I helped her get up and could see that she was bleeding already and I remember being pissed off someone had left broken glass on the dance floor. A friend of hers took her to the bathroom to have a closer look at the wound. When she came out it was decided that we should take her to the hospital, it looked like it would need stitches. I decided i had to go as well, as it was my fault this accident happened.
We all piled in a taxi and took off from the Hip Hop club to the Sydney hospital emergency waiting room. It had it's usual fill of action and trauma on a Saturday night in Sydney. We chatted while we waited, it took longer than expected, we laughed at our dancing mishap and the dodginess of the fact there was broken glass around us while we danced. She got stitched up and we were no longer in the mood for clubbing so said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I saw her a couple of times in passing, once on a bus coming back from Bondi in the daytime, I remember being very pleased to see her and reminisced about our mishap and once out at a club again.. no further accidents and no further sightings since then.
Sunday 10 February 2013
The numb chucker
A while back, my wife, young son and I lived with my sister and her husband for about a year in this old 2 storey terrace place. It was in a great location, close to everything and I used to do a lot of running and exercise, sometimes with my brother-in law who was ultra competitive. One night we had some visitors over, my wife's younger sister and her boyfriend. We all had dinner and were having a few wines after dinner, outside on a balmy summer evening. My brother in law a while later disappeared for a while and it was just the 4 of us outside, continuing the drinking. We had a few by this stage and noticed someone around the corner of the front of the house where we were sitting. We took a closer look and it was my brother-in law sans shirt with his numb chuckers going through some training regime. I hadn't really noticed him do this before, it was late at night and don't think i had seen him even do the numb chucks before this night.
It was impressive and he seemed to be hitting himself a bit as they came up behind under his arm and he caught it with the other hand. There was a lot of thumping of skin, perhaps part of the training ritual. He was obviously showing off for us and we tried not to look too impressed by his antics, so as to not encourage this behaviour. We went back to talk about the meaning of life out on the front lawn as he continued his training, with some skin thumping and general thumping of ground as he moved around like our house ninja, getting ready to protect our household from the numerous triad gangs around. We could have stayed and watch as part of the evening's entertainment, which would have been kind of fun, especially if he came out in full ninja costume. We all knew him well enough to know this was part of his character, to expect the unexpected with him and especially expect the showing off rituals whenever possible. He especially liked to stretch out after a run, showing his crazy stretching ability and in case we were not impressed, he would say "look how far i can stretch on this one". With him, it wasn't enough to just do the exercise and be content, he had to let everyone else know what he was doing, how much and how well.
We made up a rap about him and it went something like this.
I thought i was a goner
cause I did a workout
with (insert rhyming name here)
It was impressive and he seemed to be hitting himself a bit as they came up behind under his arm and he caught it with the other hand. There was a lot of thumping of skin, perhaps part of the training ritual. He was obviously showing off for us and we tried not to look too impressed by his antics, so as to not encourage this behaviour. We went back to talk about the meaning of life out on the front lawn as he continued his training, with some skin thumping and general thumping of ground as he moved around like our house ninja, getting ready to protect our household from the numerous triad gangs around. We could have stayed and watch as part of the evening's entertainment, which would have been kind of fun, especially if he came out in full ninja costume. We all knew him well enough to know this was part of his character, to expect the unexpected with him and especially expect the showing off rituals whenever possible. He especially liked to stretch out after a run, showing his crazy stretching ability and in case we were not impressed, he would say "look how far i can stretch on this one". With him, it wasn't enough to just do the exercise and be content, he had to let everyone else know what he was doing, how much and how well.
We made up a rap about him and it went something like this.
I thought i was a goner
cause I did a workout
with (insert rhyming name here)
Thursday 7 February 2013
Being Aussie
It's a problem while travelling, this being Aussie sometimes, it's a label and it's something you can't escape or hide from. It's in your idiosyncratic look, that generic beach clothing that we like to wear, that accent when spoken that gives the game away. It's deep inside your thoughts and being without even realizing it, your sarcasm, larrikinism, humour, pathos, it's down to all your collective experiences.
I felt this most when we were in Paris, we would go and eat out at this nice French restaurant at Montmartre and feeling like, wanting to be less Aussie and more Parisian. It's a feeling like wanting to experience the moment like a real Parisian, rather than this Aussie bloke, but you can't shake it off or turn it off, it's just there. Wouldn't it be great if I could have felt, loved, drank wine, thought deep political, artistic and philosophical thoughts, moved around like a true Parisian, that's what I would pay money for, to totally inhabit my time there as a Parisian, now that would be a total holiday & break from reality.
It's hard to describe, it's like you are there, as you, a visitor, a tourist. You know the rules, you do the tourist things, you walk through the streets with those touristy thoughts of soaking it up, but you know you are missing out on the authentic, the real. You visit all the tourist sites with all the other tourists, you enjoy it all for what it is, but you are still this Aussie abroad.
What would that be like, to don this other Parisian persona, I would imagine, I would be more aloof, more direct, I would just be doing what i wanted to do, without thought or consequences. I would be thinking deep French free thinking thoughts, I would feel like a King of a free thinking feeling world, I would appreciate my culture, my art and our history, I would loathe Americans. I would like cheese and especially the smelly blue cheese. I would be in tune with my feelings and crave,demand, have the beautiful caress and touch of a beautiful women and many of them.
What if it wasn't like that at all, what if it wasn't what I imagined to be like at all, that I had more anxiety, I felt more insecure, I was wary of tourists and I envied especially those Australian tourists who seem so self assured and genuine but crazy. Now it's just getting stupid, imagining this, to imagine that, who is imagining something else.
It was a thought at the time, is all this was. This feeling of being Aussie when you want to feel being Parisian instead.
I felt this most when we were in Paris, we would go and eat out at this nice French restaurant at Montmartre and feeling like, wanting to be less Aussie and more Parisian. It's a feeling like wanting to experience the moment like a real Parisian, rather than this Aussie bloke, but you can't shake it off or turn it off, it's just there. Wouldn't it be great if I could have felt, loved, drank wine, thought deep political, artistic and philosophical thoughts, moved around like a true Parisian, that's what I would pay money for, to totally inhabit my time there as a Parisian, now that would be a total holiday & break from reality.
It's hard to describe, it's like you are there, as you, a visitor, a tourist. You know the rules, you do the tourist things, you walk through the streets with those touristy thoughts of soaking it up, but you know you are missing out on the authentic, the real. You visit all the tourist sites with all the other tourists, you enjoy it all for what it is, but you are still this Aussie abroad.
What would that be like, to don this other Parisian persona, I would imagine, I would be more aloof, more direct, I would just be doing what i wanted to do, without thought or consequences. I would be thinking deep French free thinking thoughts, I would feel like a King of a free thinking feeling world, I would appreciate my culture, my art and our history, I would loathe Americans. I would like cheese and especially the smelly blue cheese. I would be in tune with my feelings and crave,demand, have the beautiful caress and touch of a beautiful women and many of them.
What if it wasn't like that at all, what if it wasn't what I imagined to be like at all, that I had more anxiety, I felt more insecure, I was wary of tourists and I envied especially those Australian tourists who seem so self assured and genuine but crazy. Now it's just getting stupid, imagining this, to imagine that, who is imagining something else.
It was a thought at the time, is all this was. This feeling of being Aussie when you want to feel being Parisian instead.
Wednesday 6 February 2013
Steff and her see though shorts
I was going to have a rest day today, give the 3 of you that read this blog a break, but that could be habit forming, better to let it flow.. ohh. ohhh ohh. as Spiritualized would say.
From what i can gather so far, the bloggersphere, or the people that read blogs prefer upbeat stories, preferably that have a sense of humour and tell a tale. I would like feedback now and again from you, the readers, leave comments, tell me what you like, what you don't like. The statistics might be all wrong. What's that saying "lies, damn lies and statistics" first coined by Mark Twain.
The following story i believe meets all the criteria for a hit blog. Let's see though, shall we?
It is an oldish tale, it involves singalongs, a road trip, native animals, bushfires, creek crossings, a wreck and a cautionary tale about worrying about nothing.
I had just recently purchased a new car, a 4WD Nissan Pathfinder and decided it was time that the family all hit the road on a summer vacation. Fraser Island was our goal and along the way some other parts of the North Coast.
We took off up highway 1 and something weird happened on this trip, almost straight off the bat, we decided it would be a good idea to write and sing some songs along the way. Just make them up on the fly. I decided that there needed to be a good song written about highway 1 and started making up the melody, it was a great way of killing time as we headed up the highway with many hours of driving ahead of us. It went something like this.
slow intro. On Highway one..
It's fun in the sun,
hearding North past ports
there's lot's of crazy rorts
gotta get out of the rat race
gotta find my own space
Then blah, blah blah.. won't divulge the full song
Penning that song, stopping at stop,revive, survive spots, the big rock, kept us occupied and amused. We kept driving, swapping drivers every few hours as we hit Noosa and the first bit of 4WDriving that we had done on the 40 mile beach stretch, past a wreck in the ocean and a few freshwater lakes.
We next hit the car ferry spot, which took us over to Fraser Island, the south tip of the island. We drove up the East side of the island a bit and stayed at a campsite near Lake Boomanjin, which was fenced in to keep the dingoes and critters out. We met an English backpacker who was really doing it on the cheap, he came out with hardly any money and was surviving on canned beans it appeared. He just wanted to see Fraser Island and was on a mission to walk around it, no car or bike and little food apparently.
We moved up on the North East coast, having to watch the tides and drive when the tides were lowest. We camped in a designated camp ground near Happy Valley, which even had a small grocery shop with highly inflated prices. It was near a lot of landmarks, such as Maheno Wreck and Eli Creek. Both had songs written again by us. Maheno Wreck went something like this.
Maheno Wreck, Maheno Wreck
What a ship, What a wreck
Maheno Wreck, I'm going to spray!!
Eli Creek was just amazing, we all loved it and spent a lot of time there at different parts of the day, I think it was most stunning towards the end of day and it had fewer crowds. Steff had these shorts that when wet were a bit see through and you could see her knickers (undies) underneath. She was at the top of Eli Creek, where you start to float down and I was taking a few photos of her. She started carrying on and asked if I could see through her shorts, to which i said yeh, but so what. You can see your red knickers but who care's no one is going to look or care. She wasn't so sure and was all self conscious about it which irritated me a little bit.
Back at camp that night after we had a feed she brought up the see through shorts again and I think i lost it and made up the crazy see through shorts song on the spot. I got up and started singer to her.
Steff and her see through shorts
Steff and her see through shorts
she thinks everyone is looking
everyone is watching,
Steff and her see through shorts
Steff an her see through shorts
she thinks everyone is looking
everyone is saying, look at her red knickers, whooohhh whoooooh.
But really, no one is looking, no one is watching
No one really gives a shit
Steff and her see through shorts
Steff and her see through shorts
Everyone cracked up, including Steff. It was a catchy tune that got sung a lot that holiday. Often requested by my son and Steff over the years.
We visited Happy Valley and made up a cool song about our short experience there, including seeing a dingo walk down the main street from the resort. We hit the other side of the island, Kingfisher resort and spent a day by the pool, enjoying cocktails and 80's music videos all day. We also drove further up the East Coast to Waddy Point, past some large rockpools. At Waddy Point, we saw, whales, tortoises, dolphins and porpoises all in a short space of time. It was like nature gone wild, i felt a real affinity for that spot and decried that it would be my spirit totem and that I would return. To me that headland, is the King of all headlands, of all the Eastern headlands of which there is many, this one reigns supreme.
Happy Valley, Happy Valley (handclaps)
It has cool drinks and ice
Happy Valley in the summertime (more handclaps)
It has cool drinks ice and fuel
Happy Valley, Happy Valley (handclaps)
it has cool drinks, ice, fuel and dingo
Happy Valley in the summertime (more handclaps)
On the drive back at low tide from Waddy, we started making out smoke in the distance and realized it was bushfires. I didn't even realize that a place like this, World heritage listed, could even have fires and wondered of the consequences. The bushfires burned for a day and it was all over the news apparently. At Lake McKenzie the next day the smoke and ashes gave the sky and surrounds an eerie feeling. I remember feeling ash fall from the sky gently and land on my arms and head like grey snow, like powder. We swam in the clear blue freshwater, i climbed trees with my son and swam out into the deep blue of the lake and pondered on this amazing place and my time there.
Oh, nearly forgot & we crossed a lot of creeks, no biggy. I remember hearing one story of a brand new Landcruiser that got stuck on a crossing then buried under the incoming tide.
From what i can gather so far, the bloggersphere, or the people that read blogs prefer upbeat stories, preferably that have a sense of humour and tell a tale. I would like feedback now and again from you, the readers, leave comments, tell me what you like, what you don't like. The statistics might be all wrong. What's that saying "lies, damn lies and statistics" first coined by Mark Twain.
The following story i believe meets all the criteria for a hit blog. Let's see though, shall we?
It is an oldish tale, it involves singalongs, a road trip, native animals, bushfires, creek crossings, a wreck and a cautionary tale about worrying about nothing.
I had just recently purchased a new car, a 4WD Nissan Pathfinder and decided it was time that the family all hit the road on a summer vacation. Fraser Island was our goal and along the way some other parts of the North Coast.
We took off up highway 1 and something weird happened on this trip, almost straight off the bat, we decided it would be a good idea to write and sing some songs along the way. Just make them up on the fly. I decided that there needed to be a good song written about highway 1 and started making up the melody, it was a great way of killing time as we headed up the highway with many hours of driving ahead of us. It went something like this.
slow intro. On Highway one..
It's fun in the sun,
hearding North past ports
there's lot's of crazy rorts
gotta get out of the rat race
gotta find my own space
Then blah, blah blah.. won't divulge the full song
Penning that song, stopping at stop,revive, survive spots, the big rock, kept us occupied and amused. We kept driving, swapping drivers every few hours as we hit Noosa and the first bit of 4WDriving that we had done on the 40 mile beach stretch, past a wreck in the ocean and a few freshwater lakes.
We next hit the car ferry spot, which took us over to Fraser Island, the south tip of the island. We drove up the East side of the island a bit and stayed at a campsite near Lake Boomanjin, which was fenced in to keep the dingoes and critters out. We met an English backpacker who was really doing it on the cheap, he came out with hardly any money and was surviving on canned beans it appeared. He just wanted to see Fraser Island and was on a mission to walk around it, no car or bike and little food apparently.
We moved up on the North East coast, having to watch the tides and drive when the tides were lowest. We camped in a designated camp ground near Happy Valley, which even had a small grocery shop with highly inflated prices. It was near a lot of landmarks, such as Maheno Wreck and Eli Creek. Both had songs written again by us. Maheno Wreck went something like this.
Maheno Wreck, Maheno Wreck
What a ship, What a wreck
Maheno Wreck, I'm going to spray!!
Eli Creek was just amazing, we all loved it and spent a lot of time there at different parts of the day, I think it was most stunning towards the end of day and it had fewer crowds. Steff had these shorts that when wet were a bit see through and you could see her knickers (undies) underneath. She was at the top of Eli Creek, where you start to float down and I was taking a few photos of her. She started carrying on and asked if I could see through her shorts, to which i said yeh, but so what. You can see your red knickers but who care's no one is going to look or care. She wasn't so sure and was all self conscious about it which irritated me a little bit.
Back at camp that night after we had a feed she brought up the see through shorts again and I think i lost it and made up the crazy see through shorts song on the spot. I got up and started singer to her.
Steff and her see through shorts
Steff and her see through shorts
she thinks everyone is looking
everyone is watching,
Steff and her see through shorts
Steff an her see through shorts
she thinks everyone is looking
everyone is saying, look at her red knickers, whooohhh whoooooh.
But really, no one is looking, no one is watching
No one really gives a shit
Steff and her see through shorts
Steff and her see through shorts
Everyone cracked up, including Steff. It was a catchy tune that got sung a lot that holiday. Often requested by my son and Steff over the years.
We visited Happy Valley and made up a cool song about our short experience there, including seeing a dingo walk down the main street from the resort. We hit the other side of the island, Kingfisher resort and spent a day by the pool, enjoying cocktails and 80's music videos all day. We also drove further up the East Coast to Waddy Point, past some large rockpools. At Waddy Point, we saw, whales, tortoises, dolphins and porpoises all in a short space of time. It was like nature gone wild, i felt a real affinity for that spot and decried that it would be my spirit totem and that I would return. To me that headland, is the King of all headlands, of all the Eastern headlands of which there is many, this one reigns supreme.
Happy Valley, Happy Valley (handclaps)
It has cool drinks and ice
Happy Valley in the summertime (more handclaps)
It has cool drinks ice and fuel
Happy Valley, Happy Valley (handclaps)
it has cool drinks, ice, fuel and dingo
Happy Valley in the summertime (more handclaps)
On the drive back at low tide from Waddy, we started making out smoke in the distance and realized it was bushfires. I didn't even realize that a place like this, World heritage listed, could even have fires and wondered of the consequences. The bushfires burned for a day and it was all over the news apparently. At Lake McKenzie the next day the smoke and ashes gave the sky and surrounds an eerie feeling. I remember feeling ash fall from the sky gently and land on my arms and head like grey snow, like powder. We swam in the clear blue freshwater, i climbed trees with my son and swam out into the deep blue of the lake and pondered on this amazing place and my time there.
Oh, nearly forgot & we crossed a lot of creeks, no biggy. I remember hearing one story of a brand new Landcruiser that got stuck on a crossing then buried under the incoming tide.
Tuesday 5 February 2013
round and round
When love was new and we were young, we did things differently, without as much concern. Together we were playful and mischievous, as if our protons and atoms that made us were firing off into all new directions. The things we could get each other to do. One day we were out driving my father's car, an old Sigma, from Bayview to the beach. On the way back we decided to see how many times we could drive around the main roundabout at Mona Vale. While "A Solid Bond In Your Heart" by Style Council was blaring out of the speakers, we drove round and round. It was a tight roundabout and it took a lot of concentration to keep on the right angle, we watched as cars wanting to turn in watched us keep going around and around, 3, 4, 5 times, then 6,7,8 & 9 times. It was dizzying as some cars came and went as they came in from the 4 turning lanes into the roundabout. I think we counted up to 20 times, we lost count as we finally turned off and zoomed up the road. I think we may have even told dad what we did and he just said something like "you cheeky buggers", "I won't be able to show my face around there now". Another day he busted us pushing each other around in shopping trolleys (very nearly toppling out as i hit a gutter) in the main street in the late summer evening sun after we came back from eating and drinking out.
Monday 4 February 2013
Salute the old boys
Old Catholic private high school traditions and ceremonies have stood the test of time. There was one small tradition that I remember well and one that we twisted for our own amusement. At the monthly school assemblies, we would sing the national anthem, sing the school anthem and then salute the old boys (the old boys of the school).
There was a group of us in year 8, most of the year in fact (after word had got around) that wanted to subvert this tradition at the next assembly and instead of looking at the flag and saluting it, we would look downwards towards our own old boys (our balls) and salute them and the work they do for us (boys in year 8, there was plenty of work for them). We all thought we were hilarious and that this would be the greatest assembly ever.
The day loomed and then was upon us. There was a general murmur around our year group as we collected at our year's lines in the assembly area. Most of the year were in on this subversion and we were all waiting with youthful anticipation. The time that the principle was going to ask us to salute the old boys was looming, it was sunny day the sun was shining down upon the assembled throng.
The principal uttered the words "Now it's time to salute the old boys". I was already smiling, almost laughing as I looked down towards the ground and my old boys and did a hearty salute as I could sense all the other boys in my year doing the same. The other year groups were also wondering what was happening at this stage and a few of us broke up with laughter at our antics. Executed perfectly and long remembered, our youthful twist on this old tradition.
There was a group of us in year 8, most of the year in fact (after word had got around) that wanted to subvert this tradition at the next assembly and instead of looking at the flag and saluting it, we would look downwards towards our own old boys (our balls) and salute them and the work they do for us (boys in year 8, there was plenty of work for them). We all thought we were hilarious and that this would be the greatest assembly ever.
The day loomed and then was upon us. There was a general murmur around our year group as we collected at our year's lines in the assembly area. Most of the year were in on this subversion and we were all waiting with youthful anticipation. The time that the principle was going to ask us to salute the old boys was looming, it was sunny day the sun was shining down upon the assembled throng.
The principal uttered the words "Now it's time to salute the old boys". I was already smiling, almost laughing as I looked down towards the ground and my old boys and did a hearty salute as I could sense all the other boys in my year doing the same. The other year groups were also wondering what was happening at this stage and a few of us broke up with laughter at our antics. Executed perfectly and long remembered, our youthful twist on this old tradition.
EastSide radio
There was a time and a place where we lived through this other fad. As mere mortals, we tend to live through these phases, or fads in our lives. We consume, eat, play, change and move on to the next thing. This was a really interesting and fun different fad we had for a time. We lived in a unit, we called Amorous Amaroo, right by the ocean, in a lovely little bay, we enjoyed sea breezes through our windows and the sound of crashing waves all day and night. At first it was unnerving, it felt too loud this sound of waves and tide crashing, moving around, it seemed loudest at night, when the ocean woke up and everything else went to sleep. A station was found on the FM band, it played jazz music that seemed to provide a matching carefree soundtrack to our lives. The presenters talked between tracks and invited listeners to ring in and send in poetry and prose. We particpated, we sat out on the rocks by the sea to listen and ring in. My wife rang in with a Woody Allen quote "Sex is like bridge, if you don't have a good partner, you better have a good hand". Which we thought was funny and great. Other times, we made up poems and laughed at our literary pretensions. We laughed and made fun of others that rang in, life's waif's and strays, drunk, bored, drugged, all unedited, unrestrained on this EastSide radio. Other's would be going out large on their Saturday night, we were content with our night in with EastSide and joked we were getting old and less easily pleased for our entertainment and fun. I can look back now with such nostalgic fondness, perhaps we had it all then, that was all we needed, we picked up something on the airwaves that carried us away to another place & time, simplicity in concert with our location and lives. We on the Northside tuned in and dropped out for EastSide radio.
Saturday 2 February 2013
Sunday stories - Live
Story live from the North side. I don't usually do 3 blog posts in a day, but this is an exception.
Just now, I was in the kitchen about to do the washing up and smelt what appeared to be burning toast or waffles. The smell was getting more pronounced and then an alarm went off, from nearby, downstairs perhaps. My wife and I rushed down and were looking for the unit the alarm was coming from. It ended up being the one directly underneath ours, smoke coming through the kitchen and bathroom windows, more pronounced from the kitchen. My son's friend came down to and noticed a women asleep on the lounge in the unit. There were other neighbour's gathering around as well. The gay neighbour from the other downstairs unit and I were trying to wake the women on the lounge. I started yelling "Wake up, Wake up". To no avail. She wasn't stirring a bit. I then yelled at the top of my lungs "fire, fire!" also to no avail. I said to the neighbour, "do you think she might have taken something", to which he nodded.
My son's friend thought of a brilliant idea to try to turn the stove off, using a long pole outside the flat. He grabbed it and was poking through the window to the stove and managed to turn it off. The smoke was very thick, what seemed the whole flat but much worse in the kitchen area. As were coming around the back, he noticed the barred window, the barring was loose and managed to pry it open. He said "Who wants to go in" and I said, "You go in and open the door and wake her up". He jumped in, nothing like youth on your team in an emergency. I went around to the front door and there was heaps of smoke coming out of the unit and the door was open, other neighbours were already in there to, my sons friend was trying to get her awake, by shaking her. He came back out the front and said that she wasn't really waking up, he shook her and she just didn't appear with it.
One of the other neighbours a lady from next door managed to get her off the couch and was walking her out of the smokey unit. They walked past me and she appeared to be very sleepy and unaware of what was happening, they went out the front of the units. There were a lot of helpful and curious neighbours around now including the couple who live next to us on the 2nd floor and neighbours i have hardly ever seen from the unit next door.
The fire truck turned up and a tall fireman walked up casually and asked which unit and I pointed him to the ground floor unit and said "the kitchen is around to the left". The other fireman was out the front with the girl who fell asleep on the couch with the oven on, smoke everywhere, the alarm going off, neighbours yelling at her. She had an oxygen mask on and appeared to be recovering on the ground.
My wife and I said "Good work to my son's friend" as my son finally prised himself away from his Xbox and came down to see what all the fuss was about. My wife said that this neighbour would have been told by the real estate that she was being too noisy and given a warning and the landlord might have told her she has to move out. We always hear her in the early hours of the morning and into the night, she has a loud Canadian accent. We all went back up to our unit as the fuss was dying down. A little later the police turned up as well, most likely to question the neighbour. I couldn't remember what i was doing before all the action.. oh yeh, the washing up. Forget that! Let's go get a coffee instead.
Just now, I was in the kitchen about to do the washing up and smelt what appeared to be burning toast or waffles. The smell was getting more pronounced and then an alarm went off, from nearby, downstairs perhaps. My wife and I rushed down and were looking for the unit the alarm was coming from. It ended up being the one directly underneath ours, smoke coming through the kitchen and bathroom windows, more pronounced from the kitchen. My son's friend came down to and noticed a women asleep on the lounge in the unit. There were other neighbour's gathering around as well. The gay neighbour from the other downstairs unit and I were trying to wake the women on the lounge. I started yelling "Wake up, Wake up". To no avail. She wasn't stirring a bit. I then yelled at the top of my lungs "fire, fire!" also to no avail. I said to the neighbour, "do you think she might have taken something", to which he nodded.
My son's friend thought of a brilliant idea to try to turn the stove off, using a long pole outside the flat. He grabbed it and was poking through the window to the stove and managed to turn it off. The smoke was very thick, what seemed the whole flat but much worse in the kitchen area. As were coming around the back, he noticed the barred window, the barring was loose and managed to pry it open. He said "Who wants to go in" and I said, "You go in and open the door and wake her up". He jumped in, nothing like youth on your team in an emergency. I went around to the front door and there was heaps of smoke coming out of the unit and the door was open, other neighbours were already in there to, my sons friend was trying to get her awake, by shaking her. He came back out the front and said that she wasn't really waking up, he shook her and she just didn't appear with it.
One of the other neighbours a lady from next door managed to get her off the couch and was walking her out of the smokey unit. They walked past me and she appeared to be very sleepy and unaware of what was happening, they went out the front of the units. There were a lot of helpful and curious neighbours around now including the couple who live next to us on the 2nd floor and neighbours i have hardly ever seen from the unit next door.
The fire truck turned up and a tall fireman walked up casually and asked which unit and I pointed him to the ground floor unit and said "the kitchen is around to the left". The other fireman was out the front with the girl who fell asleep on the couch with the oven on, smoke everywhere, the alarm going off, neighbours yelling at her. She had an oxygen mask on and appeared to be recovering on the ground.
My wife and I said "Good work to my son's friend" as my son finally prised himself away from his Xbox and came down to see what all the fuss was about. My wife said that this neighbour would have been told by the real estate that she was being too noisy and given a warning and the landlord might have told her she has to move out. We always hear her in the early hours of the morning and into the night, she has a loud Canadian accent. We all went back up to our unit as the fuss was dying down. A little later the police turned up as well, most likely to question the neighbour. I couldn't remember what i was doing before all the action.. oh yeh, the washing up. Forget that! Let's go get a coffee instead.
little contraceptive
Not sure if I am proud of this one or not, but it was quite funny at the time and it is a good little addition to the blog, a quickie if you like.
When my son was very little around 1 year of age and I like most males that are new parents was finding the going a little tough, my sex life taking a major dive from pre-fatherhood times. This one day, I think my son was down for a nap and my wife had granted me permission for (what Flight of the Concords) would say, business time. However before we got anywhere the little ray of sunshine, was stirring. I was saying "just leave for a him bit, he might be okay and settle himself". My wife being a new mum and this being the first born, would have none of that. "We can't, there could be something wrong, he might have wind".
I in my frustration, just gave up and caved in without entering into any debate and just went and got him from his cot, brought him back into our bed, passed him to my wife lying in the bed and said very sarcastically. "Here is your little contraceptive". To which she was shocked and amused at the same time, she laughed and said "Oh, you can't call him that, that's mean". "I can't believe you said that". "It's true" I said. "He's the best little contraception going around".
When my son was very little around 1 year of age and I like most males that are new parents was finding the going a little tough, my sex life taking a major dive from pre-fatherhood times. This one day, I think my son was down for a nap and my wife had granted me permission for (what Flight of the Concords) would say, business time. However before we got anywhere the little ray of sunshine, was stirring. I was saying "just leave for a him bit, he might be okay and settle himself". My wife being a new mum and this being the first born, would have none of that. "We can't, there could be something wrong, he might have wind".
I in my frustration, just gave up and caved in without entering into any debate and just went and got him from his cot, brought him back into our bed, passed him to my wife lying in the bed and said very sarcastically. "Here is your little contraceptive". To which she was shocked and amused at the same time, she laughed and said "Oh, you can't call him that, that's mean". "I can't believe you said that". "It's true" I said. "He's the best little contraception going around".
Aussie quotes
He has said the funniest things over time, this Aussie I know, that I have to repeat them for others to enjoy these gems, pockets of wisdom. In relation to astronomy he had this revelation to save Earth from a near Armageddon like catastrophe from an incoming comet. "Throw a pinpoint at it".
He was one of the first to be breath tested (positive) during the day when the police started targeting daytime drink/drivers. He was interviewed by a current affairs program of the time and when the interviewer asked him what he thought of being the first to be caught for drink driving. He replied "What do you think, I am ashamed of myself".
When calling his daughter to dinner, he could be heard to say, when he was in a playful mood. "Steffo's want some din dins?"
When coming out of the toilet one day at home, he was heard to say in a serious voice. "God spoke to me". With the intent that he lift his game, get back on track and stop drinking so much.
This one he has been known to say to friends and family upon them coming over and him answering the door. "Go away, we don't want any".
When his partner was at the fridge bending over, he suggestively came up behind her and said "Just parking mumma"
One day he came to his grandson's door, when he was staying over and he just came out with "Magic word". He didn't know what to think when he said that, he was just looking at him strangely, when he then said "food". Meaning dinner was ready.
One his daughters was eating some greasy food one day on the couch when she was younger and he saw her wiping her greasy fingers on the lounge and said to her "don't wipe your fingers on the couch". She replied, "I wasn't". He then said, "yes you were". "You were using it as sweeping bowl".
He was one of the first to be breath tested (positive) during the day when the police started targeting daytime drink/drivers. He was interviewed by a current affairs program of the time and when the interviewer asked him what he thought of being the first to be caught for drink driving. He replied "What do you think, I am ashamed of myself".
When calling his daughter to dinner, he could be heard to say, when he was in a playful mood. "Steffo's want some din dins?"
When coming out of the toilet one day at home, he was heard to say in a serious voice. "God spoke to me". With the intent that he lift his game, get back on track and stop drinking so much.
This one he has been known to say to friends and family upon them coming over and him answering the door. "Go away, we don't want any".
When his partner was at the fridge bending over, he suggestively came up behind her and said "Just parking mumma"
One day he came to his grandson's door, when he was staying over and he just came out with "Magic word". He didn't know what to think when he said that, he was just looking at him strangely, when he then said "food". Meaning dinner was ready.
One his daughters was eating some greasy food one day on the couch when she was younger and he saw her wiping her greasy fingers on the lounge and said to her "don't wipe your fingers on the couch". She replied, "I wasn't". He then said, "yes you were". "You were using it as sweeping bowl".
Friday 1 February 2013
Stephen, not his real name
Stephen was a friend we would see out and about, in the city, in the clubs. I can't remember who met him first, my half Italian girlfriend at the time or me. Possibly while we were both together, he was an unusual guy, he had his own style and way, I would describe him as maybe a mix between hipster ( before they existed) and a hobo. He was tall and lean and rough around the edges, very much his own person with his own unique take on life. He had heaps of energy and could just talk and talk. He told us he was a manic depressive and was on medications for it. I didn't know to much about it, other than my dad was diagnosed with it when I was around 16. Most nights when we saw him out and hung out for a while he was manic, to my eyes anyway and he just seemed like a guy with boundless enthusiasm for life but with problems and issues that could surface anytime. I wondered at the time, if he was also taking other drugs as he seemed very up and down. There was probably a time when I noticed that he was probably hanging around us a little too much and I was a little suss that there was something going on between Julia and him.
We had probably been going out a year or more at this stage and things were not that great anyway. She lived too far away and we both lived at home and would only see each other on nights out. I didn't have my own car and it was hard to find alone time. Our alone time sometimes consisted of having wild sex in the toilet of a club or in a station toilet or on the train platform itself. Often when she would go home on a train from the city I would still go out and often get with other girls. I kind of knew she was doing the same, there was one time that she had this thing for a guy who was studying medicine and it was very disconcerting. It's hard to watch the one you like have this kind of adoring puppy love for someone and being all flirtatious in front of you. A friend at the time, was living on the same train line as her and one night he told me on the way home they started kissing. I knew things were not well and should have ended our relationship sooner. I was surprised my friend did this to me as it wouldn't have been something I could have done to him. He did say that she initiated it and it wasn't something that he was that into, still didn't shy away from it, did he.
It came to a head one night when my girlfriend's parents had gone away for the weekend and I had booked a room in one of those dive hotels in the city, down the Chinatown end. We had gone out to a few clubs and ended up back at the hotel room with Stephen in tow. Not something I had wanted, and she was being a little cagey and Stephen was being vey manic. I just wanted some old fashioned booty time and was trying to get rid of our friend, who was great company and all, but,wasn't getting the obvious hint what the hotel room was for. The room was dark and small and the window looked out on a busy city street, it was a crowded room with just the 3 of us cramped inside. My girlfriend was saying she might go back to her home instead and would get the train with Stephen. I was feeling very non-plussed with that idea and said so. it's funny how in these situations you sense something's up before you really know for sure. I for whatever reason was putting up a fight this night and managed to convince her to stay and got rid of Stephen who was really getting on my nerves now. I felt like I still really didn't know this guy and that perhaps she knew him a whole lot more intimately than I did.
When he left at around 2am, we were alone in this darkened hotel room in the dark seedy side of town. The bed was quite small and narrow, we started making out on it and soon had our clothes off and were going for it. It felt like this,was near the end, because of that we were probably both not that into it it, or into it but elsewhere. We both had a love of music and clubbing, her song was Teardrops by Womack and Womack. "Teardrops in my eyes, next time I'll be true. Whispers in the powder room! She cries on every tune". Or " footsteps on the dance floor, remind me baby of you". She would always sy this song reminded her of me, before things started going bad.
The night I thought I was going to have wasn't the night I ended up having. We slept and when we awoke we went our separate ways, slinking out of the run down hotel into the lightness of day.
We had probably been going out a year or more at this stage and things were not that great anyway. She lived too far away and we both lived at home and would only see each other on nights out. I didn't have my own car and it was hard to find alone time. Our alone time sometimes consisted of having wild sex in the toilet of a club or in a station toilet or on the train platform itself. Often when she would go home on a train from the city I would still go out and often get with other girls. I kind of knew she was doing the same, there was one time that she had this thing for a guy who was studying medicine and it was very disconcerting. It's hard to watch the one you like have this kind of adoring puppy love for someone and being all flirtatious in front of you. A friend at the time, was living on the same train line as her and one night he told me on the way home they started kissing. I knew things were not well and should have ended our relationship sooner. I was surprised my friend did this to me as it wouldn't have been something I could have done to him. He did say that she initiated it and it wasn't something that he was that into, still didn't shy away from it, did he.
It came to a head one night when my girlfriend's parents had gone away for the weekend and I had booked a room in one of those dive hotels in the city, down the Chinatown end. We had gone out to a few clubs and ended up back at the hotel room with Stephen in tow. Not something I had wanted, and she was being a little cagey and Stephen was being vey manic. I just wanted some old fashioned booty time and was trying to get rid of our friend, who was great company and all, but,wasn't getting the obvious hint what the hotel room was for. The room was dark and small and the window looked out on a busy city street, it was a crowded room with just the 3 of us cramped inside. My girlfriend was saying she might go back to her home instead and would get the train with Stephen. I was feeling very non-plussed with that idea and said so. it's funny how in these situations you sense something's up before you really know for sure. I for whatever reason was putting up a fight this night and managed to convince her to stay and got rid of Stephen who was really getting on my nerves now. I felt like I still really didn't know this guy and that perhaps she knew him a whole lot more intimately than I did.
When he left at around 2am, we were alone in this darkened hotel room in the dark seedy side of town. The bed was quite small and narrow, we started making out on it and soon had our clothes off and were going for it. It felt like this,was near the end, because of that we were probably both not that into it it, or into it but elsewhere. We both had a love of music and clubbing, her song was Teardrops by Womack and Womack. "Teardrops in my eyes, next time I'll be true. Whispers in the powder room! She cries on every tune". Or " footsteps on the dance floor, remind me baby of you". She would always sy this song reminded her of me, before things started going bad.
The night I thought I was going to have wasn't the night I ended up having. We slept and when we awoke we went our separate ways, slinking out of the run down hotel into the lightness of day.
Thursday 31 January 2013
Kiera the goth - allergic to light
I grew up in a strange old time of punks, skins, trends, goths, mods, rasta's, all these factions, added to the mix, clashed and fought and sometimes even got on. There was a time at one particular club of the time when the trends and the goths kind of lived in harmony together, or at least didn't clash. The goths hung out in the dark recesses of the club upstairs and we below.
There was one particular goth that stood out among their brethren, her name was Keira. You felt it's presence before sighting her on some occasions, a chill down the back. You would first notice their hair, a big black star of a hairstyle (think Robert Smith from the Cure, only thicker and bigger) on top it's white glowing, pale of winter head. It would move as if a ghostly apparition, drifting across the floor like ooze or on air, rather than walking. Tall and large frame, standard issue goth clothes and when sighted, white as the whitest snow skin. The rumour was that Keira could not see daylight, that she was allergic to light and henced only lived in the night, opposite to us mere mortals. She could not the leave the house apparently and chose to sleep during the day and would only venture out at night and mostly in the choice of the goth code of dress and makeup. Black eyeliner, black eyeshadow, black lipstick, black demeanour.
Other rumours were that she was a black witch, that cast spells, made potions and visited graveyards in the stealth of night. That she was a goth leader, and would hold parties in graveyards to awaken and stir the dead.
Goth's were a srange lot, she the strangest and most intriguing of all. Keira the goth - allergic to light.
There was one particular goth that stood out among their brethren, her name was Keira. You felt it's presence before sighting her on some occasions, a chill down the back. You would first notice their hair, a big black star of a hairstyle (think Robert Smith from the Cure, only thicker and bigger) on top it's white glowing, pale of winter head. It would move as if a ghostly apparition, drifting across the floor like ooze or on air, rather than walking. Tall and large frame, standard issue goth clothes and when sighted, white as the whitest snow skin. The rumour was that Keira could not see daylight, that she was allergic to light and henced only lived in the night, opposite to us mere mortals. She could not the leave the house apparently and chose to sleep during the day and would only venture out at night and mostly in the choice of the goth code of dress and makeup. Black eyeliner, black eyeshadow, black lipstick, black demeanour.
Other rumours were that she was a black witch, that cast spells, made potions and visited graveyards in the stealth of night. That she was a goth leader, and would hold parties in graveyards to awaken and stir the dead.
Goth's were a srange lot, she the strangest and most intriguing of all. Keira the goth - allergic to light.
kiddy muggers
A flashback from the past.
It was the early 90's, I awake slowly with the beats penetrating into my head and realise I have been asleep in a club on a fairly comfortable lounge in the corner. I remember vaguely how I got here and wonder what time it is.. judging by the amount of people still in the club it's the wee small hours, 3 or 4am. I look around to see if can see any familiar faces, not expecting to really. phheww!! what a night i think to myself, i feel tired and sleepy still and wonder what i might have got up to before crashing in the Patches club.
I decide to head home and realise I have to get one of the night buses home as i don't have enough for a taxi. I head out of the club and start heading down the street past Hyde Park South. Half way down the street i sense a group behind is getting closer, it's a group of teens looking like little gangster wannabe's, baseball caps and all, some look really small and young I think to myself.
I sense a possible danger/threat level and see that there is absolutely no-one else around. I do a quick scan around both sides of the street and the park and can only make out a security guard in the foyer of one of the buildings opposite.
It's not more than a few seconds later, that the group is running and heading towards me. There is not much i can do, I have no desire to run, they would probably catch me anyway. One of the bigger youth's has me in a headlock pretty quickly, but he can't be older than 15 I think to myself. He say's to me "Hand over all your money". I say bemusedly, tiredly "What if i don't". Rather than answer in words, he makes the headlock a little tighter. I am tired and not really happy about this situation i find myself in, I wonder if they have knives and think to myself i could probably take them all on, before thinking of the consequences if that doesn't work out. I say to them, "I don't have much money, only my bus fare home. But I'll give you all I have in my wallet". The bigger youth let's me out of the headlock and I size up the situation and think to myself i can't believe i am getting mugged by kiddies. This is absurd.
I look through my wallet and find around $4 and hand it over to the bigger youth. "Alright, cya later" I say. "yeh cya" they say and they all walk off into the Hyde Park South area. Looking for more suspects, I think to myself, or perhaps it's their home for the night. I look across the street and stare at the security guard safe and sound in the foyer of his building and wave sarcastically. "Thanks for helping mate" I think to myself, just what i expected really.
Taxi, it is then. Oh blow it, it's handover time. Not my night I think to myself.
It was the early 90's, I awake slowly with the beats penetrating into my head and realise I have been asleep in a club on a fairly comfortable lounge in the corner. I remember vaguely how I got here and wonder what time it is.. judging by the amount of people still in the club it's the wee small hours, 3 or 4am. I look around to see if can see any familiar faces, not expecting to really. phheww!! what a night i think to myself, i feel tired and sleepy still and wonder what i might have got up to before crashing in the Patches club.
I decide to head home and realise I have to get one of the night buses home as i don't have enough for a taxi. I head out of the club and start heading down the street past Hyde Park South. Half way down the street i sense a group behind is getting closer, it's a group of teens looking like little gangster wannabe's, baseball caps and all, some look really small and young I think to myself.
I sense a possible danger/threat level and see that there is absolutely no-one else around. I do a quick scan around both sides of the street and the park and can only make out a security guard in the foyer of one of the buildings opposite.
It's not more than a few seconds later, that the group is running and heading towards me. There is not much i can do, I have no desire to run, they would probably catch me anyway. One of the bigger youth's has me in a headlock pretty quickly, but he can't be older than 15 I think to myself. He say's to me "Hand over all your money". I say bemusedly, tiredly "What if i don't". Rather than answer in words, he makes the headlock a little tighter. I am tired and not really happy about this situation i find myself in, I wonder if they have knives and think to myself i could probably take them all on, before thinking of the consequences if that doesn't work out. I say to them, "I don't have much money, only my bus fare home. But I'll give you all I have in my wallet". The bigger youth let's me out of the headlock and I size up the situation and think to myself i can't believe i am getting mugged by kiddies. This is absurd.
I look through my wallet and find around $4 and hand it over to the bigger youth. "Alright, cya later" I say. "yeh cya" they say and they all walk off into the Hyde Park South area. Looking for more suspects, I think to myself, or perhaps it's their home for the night. I look across the street and stare at the security guard safe and sound in the foyer of his building and wave sarcastically. "Thanks for helping mate" I think to myself, just what i expected really.
Taxi, it is then. Oh blow it, it's handover time. Not my night I think to myself.
Wednesday 30 January 2013
The day my leg went to sleep
i think i was in 2nd class at my Primary school and it was a morning of a school assembly and it was an exceptionally long assembly this day, as they were giving out awards. I remember we all had to sit down in our classes and it was hard as we all had our legs crossed for quite a while. At some point, while Debbie Lambert was winning the award for best speller in her year, my left leg started getting pins and needles from being crossed and sat on for so long. I went to get up for a brief moment to get some blood flow back, but was asked to sit back down quite aggressively by one of the teachers on watch... but, but I was trying to say my leg is going to sleep and i soon won't be able to feel it at all I was thinking as i sat back down. I almost started to panic as i knew i was getting an award this day as well and it was a long way to walk up and accept the award. I tried poking my leg and shifting my leg all to no avail, it was beyond pins and needles now and just felt numb.
Sure enough my name got called out and I just grinned and beared it! Got up quickly and realized i didn't have any feeling in my left leg at all.. and started dragging myself like quazamodo towards the stage. I was just hoping that some life would come back in my leg before i fell over and didn't make it. As i was looking up towards the award giver, my leg gave way and i fell over a couple of first classers.. who were pretty good about it really. I got up again and started hobbling towards the stage, so unsure on my leg that i almost gave up then and there on bothering to get the award. I think a few people by this stage in my class were laughing quite heavily and I was just the most embarrassed and unsure i have been. By the time i got to the stage, luckily some life came to my leg and i felt a bit more assurred as i excepted my award. Bloody hell I thought that was an effort. The teachers were not amused though and thought i was taking the Mickey and I was punished for my leg going to sleep and for what they believed was me goofing off.
That's what it was like in those days, we did as we were told, even if it meant your legs going to sleep on you. Sit perfectly still for 1 hour.. sure thing, no choice. I remember the people who were force fed a 400ml bottle of milk every morning, myself, I was willing (loved it).. but for those who didn't like milk and complained, for those few... it meant a vomit here or there.. all part of the daily routine.
On the plus side in those days.. remember being in 4th class and being able to hitch hike home from a football game with a friend and it all being cool and fun.
Sure enough my name got called out and I just grinned and beared it! Got up quickly and realized i didn't have any feeling in my left leg at all.. and started dragging myself like quazamodo towards the stage. I was just hoping that some life would come back in my leg before i fell over and didn't make it. As i was looking up towards the award giver, my leg gave way and i fell over a couple of first classers.. who were pretty good about it really. I got up again and started hobbling towards the stage, so unsure on my leg that i almost gave up then and there on bothering to get the award. I think a few people by this stage in my class were laughing quite heavily and I was just the most embarrassed and unsure i have been. By the time i got to the stage, luckily some life came to my leg and i felt a bit more assurred as i excepted my award. Bloody hell I thought that was an effort. The teachers were not amused though and thought i was taking the Mickey and I was punished for my leg going to sleep and for what they believed was me goofing off.
That's what it was like in those days, we did as we were told, even if it meant your legs going to sleep on you. Sit perfectly still for 1 hour.. sure thing, no choice. I remember the people who were force fed a 400ml bottle of milk every morning, myself, I was willing (loved it).. but for those who didn't like milk and complained, for those few... it meant a vomit here or there.. all part of the daily routine.
On the plus side in those days.. remember being in 4th class and being able to hitch hike home from a football game with a friend and it all being cool and fun.
mismatched cups
A long time ago, back in the day, when we were young and in love and going to University, we had visitors. My wife and I were living in a small unit in Randwick and both going to University, we somehow managed to live a fun life, without much money or things.
My older sister Anne visited us one time, she was up in Sydney for work and brought along a guy she was having an affair with, not that i was judging. I liked Donnie her partner and thought it was pretty slack going behind his back like this, as a guy you just think i wouldn't want this happening to me. I think she brought Katie, her daughter as well this time and we may have been baby sitting her while the two of them went off somewhere.
We were all sitting down in our non-descript unit with minimum furniture and things and I was getting tea for everyone and we didn't have many cups. I managed to scrounge enough cups to get everyone tea and we were just sitting on our old sofa and chairs and chatting. Steff or I might have said something like, sorry for the cups all being different and odd.
Anne's affair guy, i think his name was Graham, quipped up, said something out of the blue, like "Don't ever change you guys" Steff and i both said, "What do you mean". He pointed to the cups we were having tea in and said "don't ever change from this", " Don't worry about ever getting sets of cups and saucers, cutlery." "This is perfect, you don't need all that stuff and things" I could sense that they saw that we had something back then, something intangible. Happiness without the need of more things or things that matched, they were older and had probably set out attaining these things and perhaps realised that these were not the things that mattered.
Here they were deep in this affair and perhaps thinking differently about their life and the choices they had made, including their current one. Maybe they realised they could never go back from where they were now, to a simpler existence and they wanted us to stay where we were at this moment in time. To protect us from our wants. As it's simple bliss is one to envy.
Your life moves on though and you go through many different incarnations, you leave Uni, you earn more and more money and sure enough you attain at some point matching cup and saucer sets. Although oddly enough, i still don't think we have 2 mugs that match. It's not just the matching cups, it's all the other things you keep wanting and neeeding. You work to maintain this lifestyle and the lifestyle isn't really much of a life or style. It's progress, It's life you can't stop and go back that would be weird.
They were naive to think we would be happy to stay like that, or could even manage to do that successfully through our life and we would be just be this blissfully happy couple without a care for matching cups.
I do miss those days though, the setting out days, now we are just setting in. The days of the metro (SMH pullout section) on a Friday, providing us free entertainment and movies.
My older sister Anne visited us one time, she was up in Sydney for work and brought along a guy she was having an affair with, not that i was judging. I liked Donnie her partner and thought it was pretty slack going behind his back like this, as a guy you just think i wouldn't want this happening to me. I think she brought Katie, her daughter as well this time and we may have been baby sitting her while the two of them went off somewhere.
We were all sitting down in our non-descript unit with minimum furniture and things and I was getting tea for everyone and we didn't have many cups. I managed to scrounge enough cups to get everyone tea and we were just sitting on our old sofa and chairs and chatting. Steff or I might have said something like, sorry for the cups all being different and odd.
Anne's affair guy, i think his name was Graham, quipped up, said something out of the blue, like "Don't ever change you guys" Steff and i both said, "What do you mean". He pointed to the cups we were having tea in and said "don't ever change from this", " Don't worry about ever getting sets of cups and saucers, cutlery." "This is perfect, you don't need all that stuff and things" I could sense that they saw that we had something back then, something intangible. Happiness without the need of more things or things that matched, they were older and had probably set out attaining these things and perhaps realised that these were not the things that mattered.
Here they were deep in this affair and perhaps thinking differently about their life and the choices they had made, including their current one. Maybe they realised they could never go back from where they were now, to a simpler existence and they wanted us to stay where we were at this moment in time. To protect us from our wants. As it's simple bliss is one to envy.
Your life moves on though and you go through many different incarnations, you leave Uni, you earn more and more money and sure enough you attain at some point matching cup and saucer sets. Although oddly enough, i still don't think we have 2 mugs that match. It's not just the matching cups, it's all the other things you keep wanting and neeeding. You work to maintain this lifestyle and the lifestyle isn't really much of a life or style. It's progress, It's life you can't stop and go back that would be weird.
They were naive to think we would be happy to stay like that, or could even manage to do that successfully through our life and we would be just be this blissfully happy couple without a care for matching cups.
I do miss those days though, the setting out days, now we are just setting in. The days of the metro (SMH pullout section) on a Friday, providing us free entertainment and movies.
Alarm clock
Long ago, one sunny summer morning filled with regret as I left for work and lined up at the bus stop, to head for work in the city... i was blissfully unaware as i got on the bus that something was about to happen. You are already thinking about work and what you have to do that day and you are thinking life sucks, why do we have to work in crap jobs we don't like.
Anyway, on this day i got on the already crowded bus and i was thinking, great, no seat again, I'll have to stand all the way to the city. The bus took off and we were crawling through traffic, most of the bus was very quiet as no one talks, we are all strangers, lost in our own transient thoughts. Like a jolt, an alarm starts ringing and I am awoken from my commuter's daydream. It sounds familiar this alarm, an old school manual alarm, it sounds insistent and loud and unstoppable. The whole bus appears to have awoken from their slumber and generally looking in my direction, where the sound appears to be coming from. I take off my backpack and fumble for the zipper to open the bag and see my big alarm clock from home and shut it down quick smart and try to act like nothing just happened, very casual (nothing going on here), to the rest of the bus. I am thinking to myself "bitch", fuck, my wife got me a good one, wait till i get my hands on her. I laugh to myself and think, I will have to get my revenge and it will have to be good. At least it added to what would have otherwise been just another drab working day and gave the rest of the bus something to think about as well.
I was thinking, God, my wife is so mature (not), why did i marry her again? Why am i always the victim of her pranks and antics? What will happen if this keeps up forever? What if she never grows out of this? Surely she has to at some point, you can't keep doing pranks through your adult life can you? Would it be really, really boring if she did mature all of a sudden and started being all intellectual and forgot to have fun.
Anyway, on this day i got on the already crowded bus and i was thinking, great, no seat again, I'll have to stand all the way to the city. The bus took off and we were crawling through traffic, most of the bus was very quiet as no one talks, we are all strangers, lost in our own transient thoughts. Like a jolt, an alarm starts ringing and I am awoken from my commuter's daydream. It sounds familiar this alarm, an old school manual alarm, it sounds insistent and loud and unstoppable. The whole bus appears to have awoken from their slumber and generally looking in my direction, where the sound appears to be coming from. I take off my backpack and fumble for the zipper to open the bag and see my big alarm clock from home and shut it down quick smart and try to act like nothing just happened, very casual (nothing going on here), to the rest of the bus. I am thinking to myself "bitch", fuck, my wife got me a good one, wait till i get my hands on her. I laugh to myself and think, I will have to get my revenge and it will have to be good. At least it added to what would have otherwise been just another drab working day and gave the rest of the bus something to think about as well.
I was thinking, God, my wife is so mature (not), why did i marry her again? Why am i always the victim of her pranks and antics? What will happen if this keeps up forever? What if she never grows out of this? Surely she has to at some point, you can't keep doing pranks through your adult life can you? Would it be really, really boring if she did mature all of a sudden and started being all intellectual and forgot to have fun.
Tuesday 29 January 2013
the christmas tree
Many years ago when my son was very little, he would have been around 4 or 5. We lived near a nice park that wound through 2 blocks through to next street. One day as my wife and I were walking through the park we noticed something under a tree over to the left of the park, out of the way. I went over to investigate and found a new pair of levi's 501 jeans. After discussing options with the wife, we decided to take the offering. They were a perfect fit when i got them home, what a score. We decided we would call this tree the christmas tree as it offerred up gifts. A week later sure enough there was something else left under the tree, this time something for my son. We only ever saw one other thing under this tree and I don't think we took it on that occasion. For that time, it was a source of much amusement and discussion, who was leaving this stuff under the tree, who was it for? It was indeed magical and i almost expected to one day find a bundle of money under this tree.
Many years later, thinking about this again, i now wonder if perhaps it wasn't my wife as she is a bit of a joker. But can't see how really, as there would have been a big risk of someone else taking the stuff before us. Oh well, i guess it's one of those things that we'll never know, but it added a bit of intrigue to our daily lives and was a lot of fun while it lasted.
Many years later, thinking about this again, i now wonder if perhaps it wasn't my wife as she is a bit of a joker. But can't see how really, as there would have been a big risk of someone else taking the stuff before us. Oh well, i guess it's one of those things that we'll never know, but it added a bit of intrigue to our daily lives and was a lot of fun while it lasted.
expensive
I was hopping on the ferry one day to go to work and i was on the top deck and bumped into my brother in law who was sitting on the inside seat. I went over to sit down next to him and notice there was a lady sitting 2 seats down and it was going to be a tight squeeze. I then noticed she also had her handbag next to her and it was going over on to the seat i was going to sit down on. I made my intention clear, at least I thought that i was going to sit down in that seat to talk to my relative. I gave her a few seconds to move her handbag and when that wasn't forthcoming i sat down anyway. I got a bit of the handle of her bag as i sat down, she pulled her bag out and exclaimed "expensive handbag!" I paused for like 2 seconds and said back to her, pointing at my behind "expensive ass". Turned to my brother in law and we both started laughing. She went very quiet and didn't say a word the rest of the trip.
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