Melbourne Musings Part1

All under 19 years old

So how was Australia?

I've asked myself this question many times since my return to New Zealand this afternoon.
I must admit that I'm conflicted; Melbourne was great, but there were definitely some major differences between Australia and New Zealand i hadn't really noticed before.
In fairness to Australia this could have been IG and Tylers doing. On my last visit I certainly drank more. I also know I ate more, the funny thing about that being well fed and slightly "sauced"; I perhaps wasn't as alert as I could have been.
This time I noticed that there are an extraordinary number of attractive woman in Melbourne.
In fairness - IG did mention this last time, but IG says this an awful lot, so after a while the whole sentence just gets diluted. What perhaps seems more interesting is that they all seemed to eat really really bad food. Oh - and they all seemed to smoke cigarette after cigarette as well.

The whole smoking thing was really noticeable in Melbourne because here in NZ we can't smoke in public places; In bars and restaurants, we are blissfully smoke free. (So if you come to New Zealand and see all these woman standing outside buildings smoking - rest assured they aren't hookers; they're just taking smoking breaks).

Standing in a smoke infested bar on St Patrick's Day, all I wanted to do was run to somewhere where the air was fresh and clear. This is what I have become!
After careful analysis I realised the source of my interest - how did these bronzed, attractive woman get away with eating burgers, pottles of hot chips and pizza, yet have very slim physiques? To my horror I realised that the "women" I was looking at were actually a hell of a lot younger than I first realised. It is important to note that would be impossible to determine this fact from their demeanour or looks. After much thinking I realised I had to recalculate by looking at the pimple encrusted geeky, gangly awkward friends walking next to them.
i.e. Their boyfriends...

Although this in itself was perhaps disturbing enough, to suddenly realise the "much" older ladies around me were in fact more my own age, was devastating to the extreme. I think I need therapy.

It's so nice to be home.

Struth

Coooeee maaaaaaatttte!

Struth cobber. I'm off to the Auzzie GP to have a Tooheys or perhaps a Fosters.

I'll get the real oil on the first round of the Formula 1 championship, but the downside will be having to put up with all the sheepshagger jokes between races. Perhaps if I wear a hat strung with corks I'll fit right in?

At least the place will be full of tourists!!!

Catch you on Tuesday :)

The Rain

There are some things I miss during an Indian Summer. I miss the rain.

Rain in West Auckland, when it arrives, is really like the type of rain one experiences on the West Coast of the South Island; when it rains there the water bounces from the road to form a white mist and the noise would raise the dead: God I love it.

On a winters night when I'm tucked up in bed I love to listen to the pounding of the water on my roof, while I remain warm and dry under the covers. I love when the sound wakes me from my sleep.

For me I guess it's like when you're a kid, and you're driving home in the back seat of your parents car late at night. You can drift off to sleep - not a care in the world. Then one day, you suddenly realise you no longer have that total security. The world has changed, and so have you.

From that day forth I guess we all seek to find some form of that previous nirvana. But all we can really offer in the long run, is the same security to our own kids, and pray they don't grow up too quickly.

But in the meantime, rain on my roof at night is a small taste of that past life, and I'm holding on to it as long as I can.

Westport Sunset

Back in the day when I made time to be creative, I brought a camera. Turns out I wasn't half bad at using the damn thing, which was a pleasant discovery after the disappointment of not being able to draw.

In those days I carried my camera everywhere, and now, back "home" in Dunedin, I have a huge box of negatives, poised ready to embarrass my friends in future years to come.

I lost these sunset images years ago - on my many trips home I'd open the same closet and search through the same boxes, hoping in vein that they would reappear again. This Christmas my searching was rewarded, and Mum arranged to get them scanned. They arrived in the post last week.

So; I give you the sun setting over the Tasman Sea, looking toward the somewhat controversial " West Island" of New Zealand (which oddly you can not see today *). Not retouched I hasten to add, as Photoshop was only a twinkle in the minds of its creators when this photo was taken.

Yes - like all things in the 90's the sunsets were also better.

* You can never see Australia from New Zealand, but many many people think you can. :)

My week in 15 seconds

It's been a crap week basically guys.

Everything came to a head on Thursday when we all met and told our immediate manager that unless he wanted the team to self destruct, they'd have to put a stop to the extreme workload we've been under.

Last week, one of our guys had a mild heart attack, and although that wasn't really works fault, we all wondered if we hadn't all pushed a bit hard this year. Just yesterday two of us pulled a 25 hour day. Work that one out!

The good news is our manager recognised that something had to happen, and now it looks like things will calm down a lot.

So hopefully now when another of my favourite characters in a TV show dies, it wont be such a big drama, and I wont go postal on ya.

I "borrowed" the following gif from one of the Battlestar Forums, and it pretty much sums up the week that was. The only difference is now I can smile about it.

Take care of yourselves - and enjoy the weekend. I know I will :)

Everything

You know - It's been a day - And I'm still in shock.

There has to be a reason for all this grief - I'm not ready to go into it now, but I think it's about unconditional love. And I'm not talking about a TV show here.

My head space presents: Alanis - singing "Everything".

I can be an asshole of the grandest kind
I can withhold like it’s going out of style
I can be the moodiest baby and you’ve never met anyone
who is as negative as I am sometimes

I am the wisest woman you've ever met.
I am the kindest soul with whom you've connected.
I have the bravest heart that you've ever seen
And you've never met anyone
Who's as positive as I am sometimes.

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here

I blame everyone else, not my own partaking
My passive-aggressiveness can be devastating
I'm terrified and mistrusting
And you’ve never met anyone as,
As closed down as I am sometimes.

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here

What I resist, persists, and speaks louder than I know
What I resist, you love, no matter how low or high I go

I'm the funniest woman you've ever known.
I am the dullest woman you've ever known.
I'm the most gorgeous woman you've ever known
And you've never met anyone as, as everything as I am sometimes.

You see everything, you see every part
You see all my light and you love my dark
You dig everything of which I'm ashamed
There's not anything to which you can’t relate
And you’re still here

They killed my girl

Kara Thrace - Missing presumed Dead

I know she's just a frak'd up character in a nerdy TV show. However, I hasten to add; a show that Time Magazine voted the the best show of 2006!

A frak up of major proportions - she hurt everyone she loved - but we all loved her just time same.

The geek in me is mourning - and will be for some time.

Oh- what to buy....

We don't read and write poetry because it's cute.

We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.
And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life.
But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?"

Answer? That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.

What will your verse be ?


These thoughts, my friends, are what haunt me when I can't think of the next toy to buy!

Placebo

"I Love Nirvana - that doesn't mean I want to shoot myself " sang Dave Gibson from Elemenop.

I sometimes feel that I have to point out, even if some or most of my posts seem "down" in nature, I'm not depressed. Granted, some of the choices I make in the way I look at the world can often make me wonder how it's all going to end one day, but life's pretty good - ya know?

All that said: I love Placebo. There is something about this band I identify with; the only problem is - I'm not sure what. Brian Molko is openly bisexual, and Stefan Olsdal (the bass player) is gay. Their musical style is alien, compared to the structured stuff I normally listen to, but still; I love them. Perhaps is the sparseness of their music that appeals.
They do have a unique sound. The drummer has a great style, and although they are a three piece , the use of loops, and ancillary musicians (well hidden in the background), make for an interesting mix.

It's not like I can identify with a lot of the subject matter in the songs either; the list is a myriad of drugs, destructive relationships - and even more drugs - but there's poetry in the hearts of Messrs Molko et al, and its there for all to see in the lyrics.

I'm unclean, a libertine
And every time you vent your spleen,
I seem to lose the power of speech,
You're slipping slowly from my reach.
You grow me like an evergreen,
You never see the lonely me at all

OK - maybe not great poetry, but poetry never the less...

So: Two Clips for you. The first being... Without you I'm nothing



And if you're a sucker for punishment... Follow the Cops back home.

Empathy

I know I should be more concerned about a lot more important things in the world, but while reading about the Academy Awards I noticed the following photo;

Reese 2007 Oscars

I've blogged on Reese Witherspoon before, so I wont bore you with any more on the subject. Suffice to say, that after looking at the picture from last year - I just want to give the girl a big hug. The eyes just give it away - she looks so damn sad.

Reese 2006 Oscars - a "little" less miserable

I really hope the 2007 photo is a case of bad timing, and I know we cant be happy all the time. It's just that I hate seeing people like this - Isn't it strange how the littlest things can pull at your heart, yet bring out the best instincts in you?

If only we could develop a similar empathy for some random person struggling for survival in the third world...well, that would be truly amazing.

The more things change...

Back in the mid nineties Benetton released a series of billboards that raised some serious issues; the universal theme being that, fundamentally we are all the same.

The image above was particularly controversial, but for the life of me I wonder if the controversy doesn't actually say more about those complaining, than the message itself.




These two billboards were also doing the rounds at the time - I saw the cross one for the first time yesterday, and sadly I cant help but think that it's just as relevant today, as it was ten years ago. We seem to learn nothing as time goes on.

Where am I going with this?

Here.

The Maori Party is calling for limits on immigration from Western countries, accusing the Government of trying to stop the ``browning of New Zealand''. Party founder and co-leader Tariana Turia said the party would begin formulating policies to tackle the issue. It was most concerned about traditional source countries like Australia, Canada and Great Britain...... ``We are still waiting for a government to address the skill deficiencies of the '80s that they claimed were there. We (Maori) have a relatively high birth rate. The prediction is that by the year 2050 we are going to see a considerable browning-up of New Zealand with Maori, Pacific and Asians and maybe this is the way the Government combats it.''

Someone once said "You are what you love, not what loves you."
I wonder; If that's true is the reverse true also?

Be kind

Britney J Spears

I want to say something, but the words seem to be off marinating some future post. So it appears that all I am left with is the desire to write something.

As the pain in my jaw ebb's I have become aware that for some people the pain of this life goes on. I'm sure, unless you've been living in a cave for the last week, you would see what Britney Spears has been going through of late. Dooce has written a lovely post, and frankly it's a breath of fresh air to see some support, rather than jumping on the bandwagon of ridicule - only to jump off when things take a tragic turn; Cue Anna Nicole Smith.

As Harold took a bite of Barvarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves, in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank god for Barvarian Sugar Cookies. And fortunately when there aren't any cookies we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind or loving gesture, or a subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort.........and we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies and subtleties which we assume only accessorize our days are in fact here for a much larger, and nobler cause: they are here to save our lives.

Rent this film.

Music on a Friday

I'd like to say - that people, people can change anything they want to.
And that means everything in the world.
Show me any country, and there'll be people in it.
Its time to take the humanity back into the centre of the ring, and follow that for a time.
Ya know, think on that; without people you're nothing.

Joe Strummer (1952-2002)

Redemption Song

Aches

Sorry about the lack of posts this week. I've been working nights which pretty much means that during the day I'm just too damn tired to feel creative. And if I'm not creative - I'm just not anything - If you understand where I'm coming from.

I did, however, contemplate writing about my loathing of all knives and forks, plastic - especially in the context of the mall food court, which is possibly just the modern mans food trough; but ya know - nope.

Part of the problem is I'm in pain. Not the "I'm leaving you" variety - or even the "Did I poke you in the eye with my plastic fork" type pain either. The pain I'm currently experiencing is the grinding metal on metal ache that wont stop; even with expensive over the counter drugs.

You see - years ago I used to worry about things, and all was good with the world - well apart from the excessive worrying i guess.

Then one day I concluded that worrying was a stupid thing and decided to stop. I say stupidly because my body apparently has different ideas on what is best for me. It appears that subconsciously, my body has taken over, and must worry for me. All this without my consent I hasten to add.

The other morning, after a particular nasty, stressful night at work I awoke to find my jaw had decided to clamp itself shut during my sleeping hours: sometimes I think it would be just easier to worry again.

So - for the last two days the right side of my face has ached incessantly, and all this coupled with broken sleep and high temperature/humidity - makes for a Mark with a very short fuse.

I know that everything should be good in around three days, but until then I'm tired, cranky and not myself at all.

Catch you on the flip side.

Deep Deep Undercover

Today i had to do something incredibly uncomfortable. Stripped of my work ID, I ventured into "enemy" territory to trade up some 025 telecom mobiles.

We use these mobiles when we are working in areas with no Vodafone coverage, and because telecom are turning off their 025 network, and are migrating all their 025 customers to their newer 027 network, we too must upgrade.

I tell you; I felt like a traitor, a spy if you will. In amongst the other members of the public I had to endure countless questions spouting around me like "Is your network better than Vodafone", and alike.... it was hideous!

The worst part of the exercise was paying with my Vodafone credit card - something the sales guy didn't even notice. I walked out of the telecom shop with my large telecom bag - and I couldn't help but feel I needed a nice hot bath to get clean again.

I really, really have to let this go sometime soon!

Zen and the Art of Painting

I've been starting work earlier these days; the trip to the office at 7:30 am is a bitch so I've been getting up at 6am so I can start at 7. The upside of all this, is that i can be home before 5pm, and therefore have more time to myself in the afternoons. The downside is that by the weekends I'm usually tired as hell.

On Saturday morning I slept in, which was a pain, because I had arranged to catch up with "Fireman Sam" to take some photos of her while she was working.

I really enjoy spending time with "Sam", mainly because I actually relax when I'm with her. She has a great depth of character, which makes taking a good photo all that more of a challenge: a challenge I'll admit I'm not up to right now.
Sam is a hell of a lot of fun, and has that neat trick of still being a kid at heart, but having that old soul wisdom to back it all up.
It's been a blessing to have someone like that in my life - the constant threats of a good "slapping" aside, Sam manages to put me in a state of mind to smell the roses every now and again. Her friendship reminds me that one doesn't have to be rich to be wealthy.

Needless to say the photo shoot went out the window as we chatted about life in general, but I managed one half decent shot before we headed out to Frolic for lunch. An excellent way to spend a Saturday morning I think.

Thanks luv :)

Nothing borrowed or blue

For Di :)


Something Old



Something New

Brooke Fraser

I saw Brooke Fraser, when she debuted for John Mayer a few years ago.

She was amazing live - her band was super tight. I brought her album and loved her songs - but when I later found out she was a Christian, her music just seemed to die for me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not against Christians at all - her music just turned out to be something I couldn't relate to. When I thought she was singing about her love for someone else; I identified. Her love for her God was just a bigger ask for me.

She's still an amazing artist tho - play the video. Hopefully you can get past the whole God thing.

The fine art of saying nothing

I was thinking about an old quote the other day. Better to be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and prove it.
There are a lot of reasons to shut up: least of all to listen.

I also remember someone saying their are two types of people; those who listen, and those who wait for their turn to speak. It's easier to wait to speak I guess - but of late I've been making an effort to listen.

Last year a close friend was trying to tell me something, and following the rules above I was trying to listen, but at the same time another factor was playing out. This friend of mine is not one to talk about these things - and I know that. When the conversation started, I became acutely aware of the speakers discomfort, and at that moment I just wanted it to stop. I wanted the whole moment to disappear and for the earth to swallow me whole. So as the listener, I interrupted and allowed the conversation to end in a tidy manner.
I was relieved, and the situation quickly passed into memory.
The problem is - I couldn't let it go - the memory of that moment still haunts me; and now I know why. I didn't end the conversation just for my friend - I ended it for myself as well.

If I could go back - I'd just shut up and say nothing. Regardless of my own discomfort, these words, once spoken, could not be unsaid.
Now I'll always wonder what I missed out on hearing.

I think it may have been important.

Feb 14 2007

Is it weird that I still have the card that came to my work with those flowers, years ago?
Is it strange the recollection of many different romantic moments are so strong, that the memories themselves are as vivid as the day they were born?
Should I have said yes to moving forward, instead of being comfortable in a moment?
So many paths to take, so many decisions, all leading to this moment in time. Buggery Bollocks!

Anyway, I heard somewhere the only second chance we get is to make the same mistake twice. The film State and Main, if memory serves...

Fonmeister put down her latte, and leaned toward me, as if to impart some important piece of knowledge. "Mark", she said, "If you're gonna go swimming - you're gonna have to get wet". I immediately grabbed a "placid face" from my expression storage area, while thinking of a witty reply - it never came. [Note to self : This one's a smart one. Beware!]
Later that morning, while shopping for DVD's, she recommended Proof to me. On the blurb was the quote "The biggest risk in life is not taking one".
Even DVD's are fucking with me now. :)

Anyhow - I remembered this clip, and I'm beginning to think that Overkill could be my song. Well at least to this point in my life.
Perhaps 14 Feb 2008 will find me in a different space - I look forward to finding out.

Movies and me

This is not me

I've just watched "Stranger than Fiction".

Emma Thompson was amazing as always, and although it got a lot of favourable reviews, I was a bit upset with the ending.
Like The Devils Advocate - I cant help but wonder if cutting the last 2 minutes wouldn't have made a much more satisfying movie, albeit a lot less Hollywood.
Fonmeister would say that it appealed to my sense of melancholy - and to that I would have to fix her with my best wry smile, and dismiss it out of hand.

More about Fonmeister when I'm feeling a little more creative - right now I don't think I could do her justice. :)

And that would not be fair - oh no it wouldn't....

So how smart are you?

Just follow the instructions - there are no trick questions.

Just because you have to try many many times to complete this simple puzzle does not mean you are thick. Honest!!!!

Click here.

For Di

Will try and knock a more recent photo out by next Friday. Until then here's a not so old one.

Evana with her "cud cud"

Why Me?

While waiting in line at the express checkout at Foodtown.

Saw: Lady with Greenpeace T-Shirt, wearing pedal-pushers.
Said lady walks up to the counter with recyclable shopping bag, reaches in and brings out organic vegetables and organic milk. Pays with cash.

So wanted to : Throw a whale at her.

My Recipe Wednesday

Last Saturday I got invited to a pot luck dinner. Because I was a boy, and bound to fuck up, I was given a desert to bring.
I do make a crazy delicious mars bar cheesecake, but of late I've wanted to be known for more than my cheesecake, so I decided to take something a bit different. This steamed pudding went down a treat.

Mum used to make this steam pudding before the advent of the microwave. Back then the dough was placed in a aluminium bowl with a baking paper top held on with string, itself sitting in a simmering pot of water. This recipe got lost for years - but fell out of my Edmonds cook book the other day.

These days it takes 4 minutes in a Microwave. Progress that can finally be measured!

Ingredients:

1 Cup Flour
125 grams Sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
50 grams of Butter
Sultanas
1 Egg
1/2 cup of milk


Method:

Cream butter and sugar, add egg and beat well.
Add sifted flour and baking powder alternatively with milk.
Mix in sultanas (you choose how many - within reason)

Pour batter into a moderate sized "stick resistant" microwave proof bowl.

Cook on Max power for 4 minutes . Turn out onto a plate while warm.

Oh - you can add a little vanilla essence earlier on in the process, if you're feeling brave.

Excited - moi?

When was the last time you really got excited about something?
I mean really really excited.
When I was eight years old I got very excited about a Raleigh Chopper, but these days, like a drug addict looking for a better fix, its fair to say a a Chopper simply doesn't cut the mustard.

Flat screen ? Nah
New car ? Nah
Games Console, Travel ? Give me a break! It's just not happening.

OK - Maybe if I had a few million in the bank? But ever since that damn gypsy grabbed me in Kings Cross in the 80's.. I know that's not going to happen any time soon. Trust me, regarding money; I'm certain I have a major life lesson to learn before I come into anything significantly financial in nature. Until then I'm happy with what I've got.

If the measure of success in life was excitement I'm not sure I'm making any headway. In fact - I might be going backward.
How to get excited - it cant be that hard a question to answer.

My Time Out

Yes: I know, Exile in Guyville was awesome.
Yes: I know that a lot of people think she's sold out recently. (not me)

But: There's something about girls and power chords, and a songs with a nice hooks.
Plus regarding my last post I have to practice what I preach!

And: I like this song - for all the above reasons (plus it's got swear words, and innuendo).
Liz is still Liz after all.

Liz Phair - Extraordinary (indeed)

My Conformity

And the musical theme flows on.....

For some reason I've been listening to a lot of music lately. My CD collection has well and truely been dusted off. Once again the sounds of 80's music assaults my neighbourhood on a daily basis. I may be dead by the time you read this post.

Oh well.....with that in mind...

I'm pretty sure one of the the best things we can learn from or younger years is the damage conformity can bring.
I remember High School; we all listened to the same music, drank the same beer, and wore the same clothes.
Everyone was looking for the new fashion to follow - living in mortal fear they would come to school worshiping some fad that died the day before.
I cant remember any souls that braved an alternative lifestyle at that early age; I suspect that conformity may have killed them all.

More recently I remember watching Bowling for Columbine, and listening to Matt Stone's comments on High School;

"They (the teachers) scare you into conforming in school by saying - if you're a loser now, you're gonna be a loser forever . So..... Eric and Dylan ( the killers) .... They called them fags - so you know if I'm a fag now I'm a fag forever . And you wish someone could have grabbed them and gone "Dude - High School's not the end ...it's amazing how fast you lose touch with all those people" ... (but) they just beat it into your head, as early as sixth grade... don't fuck up , because if you do, you're gonna die poor and lonely - and you don't wanna do that........and of course it's completely opposite.. all the dorks at High School go on to do great things and all the really cool guys are, like, living back at home in Littleton as insurance agents ....

Maybe we should embrace everything that makes us unique from each other; temper conformity with an eclectic taste in music, the arts, or whatever is around at the time. It's all about balance i guess.

So - embrace your love of Country music and Speed Metal equally, and perhaps more importantly, everything in between; because punk, goth or any other sub culture is just a another type of conformity as well.

Celebrate your inner dork, so next time you're singing a Back Street Boy's song in the shower - recognise it for what it is, a song you love, and enjoy the moment - instead of dying of shame - wondering if anyone has heard you.

With that in mind - here's a clip of the rock band Live with Country music star Shelby Lynne. A brilliant song, and a good mix of talents. They were probably all geeks in High School!

My Elton Tribute

There's something to be said about regrets.
Looking back over your life, and not liking what you see can be a great motivation for making some changes.
What changes one should make however, aren't always so obvious.
I also wonder if the choices some people make to achieve their goals, are worth it in the long run.
The famous, the A type achievers - I wonder if at the end their regrets aren't larger, simply because their lives are so restricted, and their options limited.
I mean - How "normal" can you be if you're Justin Timberlake or Paris Hilton?
Don't you find it odd that millions "worship" these people when today's Jason Timberlake will possibly be tomorrow's Michael Jackson?
Am I the only one that thinks this a little sick?

Elton John released a video a few years back - that seems to point out some of the concerns mentioned above. It's ironic that Justin Timberlake plays the younger incarnation of Elton. Life imitating Art I guess.

My Emo.

For IG -

Who, while searching for new music to listen to, came across the music of a younger generation, and succumbed to Emo.

We will miss him.

My Dear.

I will have you know;

I am ruthless
Totally untrustworthy
I will leave the oven on
And forget to lock the front door
I will forget our anniversary
I will stay out with the guys
I will make you house smell like "boy's"

Just so you know...

When ladies call me "Dear" - they are not psychic
They are sorely mistaken Goddammit!!!

Bad Habits

I've noticed recently my complete intolerance of certain things. It's not like I do anything in retaliation for these unforeseen affronts to my sensibilities: I just file them against the offender, and all that's left is a slight irritation the next time I see that person.
It may seem weird, but every time the offender "re offends" the irritation gets slightly worse, perhaps like a insect bite that needs a little vinegar to stop the sting: just without the vinegar i guess.

The things that set me off are strange. This isn't a trait entirely my own. My grandmother used to get profoundly irritated when her toast was not buttered to the corners. Another of her dislikes was people who ate toast without cutting it in half: she explained it to me as "bad breeding".
The toast thing aside my Grandmother was not stark raving mad - nor am I.

Today one of my co-workers filled up his coffee cup with the spoon in it. That is just simply wrong. the fact he went on to drink the coffee with the spoon in it made it doubly wrong, but the icing on the cake of "bad manners" was I saw him do the same thing with soup the other day. WITH SOUP!!!!

I mean - really - a spoon in your cup whilst drinking?

I suppose on the scale of human achievements in bad breeding "the spoon incident" is minor, but why does it upset me so?

To be aware of other peoples dislikes is a curse - Ever since the "toast incident", I always buttered my Grandmothers toast to the corners on the odd occasions, we, the Grandchildren, made our Grandparents breakfast in bed. We never cut the toast on any angle other than 90 degrees lest we offended them.

It's funny now, years after they have both passed on, I cut my toast on a diagonal, and when not amongst polite society: uncut.
I have no strict butter spreading rule, but I hate my toast burnt and despise the scraping of burn toast: I'd rather throw out the burnt offering and start again.

I'd like to think these indiscretions are minor in nature, and to be fair this post had a point: It's just I've forgotten it.

Joni

If you like this clip, check out the original Joni version from her album "blue" recorded in 1971.
I love the line "I wish I had a river I could skate away on - lovely.

Solving the Mystery of the dead cat

If you bring me a dead cat, all I can tell you is that it's dead - and it was a cat.
But if you hand me a dead cat, and you tell me you found it in the middle of the road - Ha!!! - What killed it?

A car?
A truck?
Heat exhaustion?

Now you're getting it -
OK.... you find the dead cat in the kitchen of your favourite restaurant....
What killed it?

The Chef?

What are we talking about here?
Context.

Context?

Context: the difference between road kill - and a meal.

Today I had the unfortunate experience on being a part of a disagreement between my firm and a member of the public. Given the facts, a course of action was undertaken without the benefit of context.
In fairness we did all we could to get the problem sorted, but now all the facts are out of the bag I'm not so sure our method was the best after all. Hindsight is 20:20
Suffice to say the two parties are working together to sort the problem, but I feel somewhat responsible - another good reason for not dealing with people, technology isn't as tricky.

Sometimes even when you get what you want - you lose.

Rationing

Dead Girl walking

On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

My love affair with Dead Like Me continues. Like a man adrift at sea with little water I have begun to ration; periodically I feel like "drinking" the lot and facing the inevitable: a cancellation that took place over two years ago.

First Firefly, then Dead Like Me. What next? My beloved Science Fiction?

And yet the Gilmore Girls may yet make season eight! They mock my pain!

Madness I tell you - I have stared into the abyss, and seen endless scripts for reality TV and game shows, and the death of any television that makes us think. The horror......

The real McCoy - so to speak

The last post featured an image of John Cleese in a comedy skit about funny walks.
However, this is where i got my inspiration for the title to my post.



Of course this is the real "Angry from Mayfair". Kenny Everett was a comedian before his time I suspect - at least to the teenage MarkJ.

Angry of Mayfair

I've been angry this week - Really I have.
My holiday in now well and truly over and I have to face 2007.
This pisses me off because at the start of my ascent through 2007 I will have to first traverse the hazardous journey toward my birthday. My birthday "base camp" is a constant reminder of how I am frittering my life away. Frittering sums it up well, frittering is a flibberty gibberty type of word that I like to pull out of the hat every now and again, mostly when I'm in a fliberty type of mood : which is this week.

Weird thoughts assault me like South Auckland street gangs as I walk down the street. Today I got pissed off when I saw someone walking down the street "kinda funny". He was taking up the whole damn pavement in a kind of funky chicken walk ( could..I..get.. past...no...). The guy probably had a real medical condition - I'm sorry for being so insensitive, but I couldn't help but immediately think of IG and My Mate John's idea : Fix the walk - Fix the man. Basically their philosophy is that if you take the time to teach someone how to walk in a normal manner than the "rest" will fall into place - I cant help but think this is inspired in some way - but at the same time I wonder if their walk couldn't use a little work as well.

It seems that daily I have been saving someones bacon - today guys who get paid a lot more than me made a HUGE freaking mistake, which I happened to point out to them. Seriously these rocket scientists have been working on this for a month, and one word from me - and its over. So do I get any credit - ah no - they're jumping for foxholes. Little do they know the foxholes are full of very hungry Pirhana with a taste for Anus-Engineeris. Should I tell them?

Nah. They all walk kinda funny too. And I cant be fucked fixing it.

Nostalgia Corner

The Beatles - The Long and Winding Road
Original Version

From Wikipedia:

In an interview in 1994, McCartney described the lyric more obliquely: "It's rather a sad song. I like writing sad songs, it's a good bag to get into because you can actually acknowledge some deeper feelings of your own and put them in it. It's a good vehicle, it saves having to go to a psychiatrist ... It's a sad song because it's all about the unattainable; the door you never quite reach. This is the road that you never get to the end of."

In spring 1970 the other Beatles, barely speaking to one another and disgruntled with the quality of their work, effectively abandoned the Get Back project. Subsequently John Lennon and Beatles' accountant Allen Klein turned over the recordings to Phil Spector in the hope of salvaging an album, now titled Let It Be, out of the project.

Spector wrought various changes on the songs that would be included on Let It Be, but his most dramatic embellishment would occur on April 1, 1970, when he turned his attention to "The Long and Winding Road." At Abbey Road studios, he recorded the orchestral and choir accompaniment for the song. The only member of The Beatles present was Ringo Starr. Already known for his eccentric behaviour in the studio, Spector was in a particular mood that day, as balance engineer Pete Brown recalled: "He wanted tape echo on everything, he had to take a different pill every half hour and had his bodyguard with him constantly. … He was on the point of throwing a wobbly, saying 'I want to hear this, I want to hear that. I must have this, I must have that.'" Brown and the orchestra eventually became so annoyed by Spector's behaviour that the orchestra refused to play any further, and at one point, Brown left for home, forcing Spector to telephone him and persuade him into coming back, after Starr told Spector to calm down.

Finally, Spector succeeded in remixing "The Long and Winding Road," using 18 violins, four violas, four cellos, three trumpets, three trombones, two guitars, and a choir of 14 women.The orchestra was scored and conducted by Richard Hewson, who would later work with McCartney on his album, Thrillington. This lush orchestral treatment was in direct contrast to The Beatles' stated intentions for a "real" recording when they began work on Get Back.

When McCartney first heard the Spector version of the song, he was outraged. Nine days after Spector overdubbed "The Long and Winding Road", McCartney announced that The Beatles were breaking up.

Life as a PC.

Sometimes I fix PC's for friends. I just never realised the parallels between fixing a PC and fixing a life. After taking to someone the other day It dawned on me that the parallels were perhaps closer than I cared to imagine.

When you fix a software fault on a PC, you can take one of two routes.

Assuming that a piece of software on your PC is faulty or infected, you can attack the PC with various tools; such as virus scanners or spy software detection tools. All these tools are designed to find the "infections" within the buggy OS and fix it.
The trouble is, your PC will never run as well as it did on the first day you turned it on. Every application, even when removed leaves more junk on your PC slowing it down, and eventually, no matter how much you try, your PC will fail.
The parallels to life are there to be seen. We are born with (mostly) a clean slate, and since that day we accumulate knowledge, attitudes, and take on things from the environment surrounding us. Like our dear PC, no matter what life lessons we adopt and maybe drop as we go, we can never stop being a sum of all those small parts - or can we?
Are psychologists our virus and spyware equivalents? Is Prozac our great antivirus?

The second more drastic option, at least with the PC, is a complete reload. By wiping the hard disk and reinstalling a complete OS again we give our beloved PC a new chance at life - what was once old becomes new again - and all the garbage from before is gone. Our PC has a new chance with different software options. Sure - it will eventually run slower again but for today it is as good as new.

The parallel to this in human terms was explained to me as a "break". Only when deprived of most or all of the supports in your existing life, can you "break" then rebuild yourself again. Evidently this could mean that old thoughts and conceptions holding you back can be thrown away, and a new less restrictive options can be there for the taking. I wonder if the person "breaking" does this on purpose or if the result is merely the only positive outcome from an incredibly shitty situation.

I'm not sure I agreed with the person I was talking with but to those of you who may have come through this "break" process intact, I salute you, and pray you never have to endure it again.

When Poets become Musicians

Sometimes I hate being led by a song.
In an episode of, say CSI, we are led via a set of clues to a conclusion, and that's it. No thinking required - you're just along for the ride.
Those who know me, know my love of all things Tori Amos, simply because her music is almost aways set to some type of poetry. The fun is often working out what she's saying while getting lost in the beautiful music along the way.

Maybe I didn't like to hear
But I still cant believe speed racer is dead
So then I thought Id make some plans
But fire thought shed really rather be water instead

And peggy got a message for me
From Jesus
And Ive heard every word that you have said
And I know I have been driven like the snow

This is cooling
Faster than I can
This is cooling
Faster than I can

But do I hate what she is
But do I want to be her
And don't we love something fresh
Anything new, virgin

Woman you got too many brambles
Hiding under these bushes
Woman you got too many brambles
But I always liked a good storm
I'm always good for a storm

So then love walked up to like
And said I know that you don't like me much
Lets go for a ride
This ocean is wrapped around that pineapple tree

And is your place in heaven
Worth giving up these kisses
These, these kisses

And peggy got a message for me
From Jesus
And Ive heard every word that you have said
And I know I have been driven like the snow, but

This is cooling
Faster than I can
Hey yes, faster than I can
Hey, this is cooling
This is cooling

The perfect wave

Did you ever catch the perfect wave? My cuz Brad the Surfer may have well caught a few perfect waves in his day, but what I'm on about is a moment when all the cosmic tumblers seem to click into place for an instant.
I'm not talking about a drug induced wave, because that's cheating. The clarity I'm talking about must be the drug free variety, and it doesnt have to only happen once.
Perhaps when you look up from the rim of your favourite coffee mug, to see the sunrise rise from the sea over the sand dunes, and think - wow this is fucking amazing. Perhaps it's just for an instant, because all too soon the cosmic tumblers spin again leaving you, the mere mortal behind, the wave now mocking you from a distance.

For 15 seconds today, while listening to Alison Krause singing New Favourite, with my sub, just so... I could swear the walls moved forward and back with the swell as it moved on. But for a moment i was there - and it was awesome.

You know youre getting old when

You call your friends at 8:38pm and they're in bed!

Dead like me.

We all create in our heads who we are, and who we want others to be. And how we view ourselves; hero, victim, loved, unloved, changes over time. Those little neurons spark along, working overtime, creating what we believe. So, in that way the mind kinda works like magic, making what we desire happen. And in the end maybe the trick to sorting it all out is trusting your voice, and being true to yourself. Chasing your bliss, you know - all the cliches on parade crap like "Marching to the beat of your own - whatever..

I stumbled across this little gem of a show about a month back, but my Christmas holiday timetable didn't take time out for much TV, so I've been spending the last few days catching up on the show.
The story of an 18 year old who dies when a toilet seat from the disintegrating Mir Space Station, hits her square in the face, would, on the outset seem to have little to do with me - per say, but trust me, it does.
Saved from the clutches of this mortal coil, she does not move on, but instead must become a grim reaper of sorts, someone who actually doesn't get paid for this job, yet must still live in the real world: Some reapers take to stealing from the recently deceased, others have "real jobs" to get by.
Balancing the real world with her new "death job", is the source of great insight to the viewer, and as time goes on you realise, along with George, that she wasn't really living when she was alive either.

Through the episodes she starts to learn more about herself, and starts to finally start living a life , and helping her unknowing sister from making the same mistakes she did.

Being

I was watching a documentary on the making of the new Beatles album "Love" this evening.

Listening to the songs that I grew up on I'm reminded of the sublime abilities of Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starkey, pausing to wonder if a similar potential lies within all of us, if we only had the courage to believe it true.

I believe that when I was younger I was good at photography, and music - but those talents have atrophied as I became more focused on less important things. I hope it's not too late to reverse the trend, and in some way, rediscover some part of me that I've lost somewhere along the way. I've been feeling less than complete for some time, and I'm unsure why.

Quickone

Finally back in Auckland, shopping for lunch at Mt Eden Foodtown.

See: Laura Hill (Toni Warner) from Shortland Street.
Did: Typical Kiwi thing

Which was: To totally avoid eye contact, thus leaving her to quietly read the latest gossip in her NZ Womans Weekly, without asking her for her autograph.

I wasnt the only one avoiding her either! Cute as a button, she was.

Celeb? Come to NZ, we will IGNORE YOU: We are that polite :)

A better day

One of the amazing things about Dunedin are the characters that remain in town. Just the other day I was sitting in the Ra Bar, in Dunedin's Octagon, when "Speedy" raced past.
Back in the 80's the Government of the day decided that the "ever so slightly" mentally ill in our community would be better suited living in the community rather than to be locked away safe and sound away from the rest of us. Don't worry - The very mentally ill are still locked up - well most of them anyway; but i digress....

Speedy has long been known around Dunedin. He can often be seen walking at a brisk pace through the middle of town, weaving through the pedestrian traffic with a small ghetto blaster at his ear. No one really knows where he is going - but he's always on a mission to get there in time. At one stage in the 80's he dressed up in a purple or pink Lycra jumpsuit and was known as the purple (or pink) peeper (for obvious reasons I wont go into here).

The second guy I always look forward to seeing is the "Singing Guy". This guy may not be addled in any way - perhaps it's just the way he sings - but a trip to Dunedin is not complete without hearing him at work. Busking in George Street or outside a local supermarket "Singing Guy" offers me the opportunity to play a quick game of "guess that song". Normally this would be an easy challenge - but "Singing Guy" has a unique style of singing involving much clapping of hands (never in time with the song he is singing - I hasten to add). I especially love his version of "He's got the ----whole --------world -inhis-------hands"; I love a good musical challenge.

I will be sad to leave this fine city, come Tuesday....

Ummm

Peter Chin does his best Fonzie impression

Ok - so this will probably get me shot down in flames, BUT I agree with quite a bit of the email that was sent to me the other day.

I'd be interested in Di's response to this tirade - and I hope she bothers to tag on a comment.

Basically, as outlined in the comments previously, I believe in one law for all New Zealander's. The sooner the "perceived" differences in the law are dealt with, the better (or worse off) we ALL will be.

It's unfortunate that stereotypes abound, but in my mind, when you decide to move to another country, you should look to integrate your culture into that country. I should perhaps put a caveat in to exclude foreign spouses of locals, but on the most part I believe you should at least try to be a part of the community around you.

Dunedin is a good example of the merging of cultures, at least as far as the Chinese community are concerned. Anyone who has been to the Chinese New Year celebrations in Dunedin can attest to the amazing atmosphere in this otherwise stoic "Scottish" town.

Our Mayor is Peter Chin, and his bio reads something like this;
Peter (Wing Ho) Chin is a lawyer and former Dunedin city councillor who in 2004 was elected mayor of Dunedin. A descendant of one of New Zealand’s earliest Chinese families, he is a member of the national Chinese Poll Tax Trust which was set up with government funding in 2004. The trust aims to raise awareness of the early Chinese community in New Zealand and its history, language and culture.

The Chinese in Otago have endured. Their language and culture are still alive and well, even though their introduction into New Zealands' culture was nothing to be proud of. Many methods were employed to halt their immigration, including the Chinese Poll Tax in 1881.

Maybe it's not PC, but I cant help but smile when someone of a different ethnic origin walks up to me, and says "Gidday Mate" or something like that in a Kiwi accent. And No - It's not just because they sound like "us", or are finally one of "us" colonials. It's just that I no longer see him or her as Chinese, or Maori, or anything else anymore - I just see another Kiwi.

I'm not a Christian, but I hate seeing Christmas being downgraded because of the possibility of offending cultures that don't believe in Christ. I don't like seeing crosses removed from clock towers, so as not to upset others; The traditional "Lords Prayer" in private schools being removed.... the list goes on.

New Zealand was a country founded on Christianity, and it is, for better or worse, our heritage. If we refuse to acknowledge our past, and not cherish what has come before, pandering to a multitude of minorities will leave us nothing to celebrate; and what a bland lot we will become.

Sgt Pepper Blues

So...who am I today?

Am I Paul McCartney singing..
I've got to admit it's getting better, its getting better all the time.

Or am I John Lennon quipping - It couldnt get much worse..

Time will tell...

I've been thinking about this email that arrived in my inbox today;

After Wellington not wanting to offend other cultures by putting up Xmas lights.

After hearing that we are going to let a Muslim woman have her picture on her drivers license with her face covered.

This prompted this editorial written by a New Zealand Citizen.

Quote:

IMMIGRANTS , NOT NEW ZEALANDERS, MUST ADAPT. TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT!

I am tired of this nation worrying about whether we are offending some individuals or their culture. I am not against immigration, nor do I hold a grudge against anyone who is seeking a better life by coming to New Zealand.

However, there are a few things that those who have recently come to our country and apparently some born here, need to understand.

This idea of New Zealand being a multicultural community has served only to dilute our sovereignty and our national identity. As New Zealanders, we have our own culture, our own society, our own language and our own lifestyle.

Our culture has been developed over two centuries of struggles, trials and victories by millions of men and women who have sought freedom, even died for it.

We Speak ENGLISH or MAORI , not Spanish, Lebanese, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese, Russian or any other language. Therefore if you wish to become part of New Zealand society, -- Learn the language!

"In God we trust" is our national Motto. This is not some Christian, right wing, political slogan. We adopted this motto because Christian men and women, on Christian principles, founded this nation, and this is clearly documented.

It is certainly appropriate to display it on the walls of our schools. If God offends you, then it is recommended that you consider another part of the world as your new home, because God is part of our culture.

If the Southern Cross offends you, or you don't like "A FAIR GO", then you should seriously consider a move to another part of this planet.

We are happy with our culture and have no desire to change, and we really don't care how you did things where you came from, This is OUR COUNTRY, OUR LAND, AND OUR LIFESTYLE, and we will allow you every opportunity to enjoy all this. But once you are done complaining, whining, and or griping about Our Flag, Our Pledge, Our National Motto, or Our Way Of Life, then you are Highly encourage to take advantage of one other great New Zealand freedom "THE RIGHT TO LEAVE"


LEAVE if you aren't happy here then ##@* off! We didn't force you to come here.
YOU asked to be here. So accept the country YOU accepted. It's pretty easy really, when you think about it


I figure if we all keep passing this to our friends (and enemies) it will also, sooner or later, get back to the complainers. Lets all try.

Ani DiFranco

Thanks to Ian's broken IPOD

"32 Flavors"

squint your eyes and look closer
I'm not between you and your ambition
I am a poster girl with no poster
I am thirty-two flavors and then some
and I'm beyond your peripheral vision
so you might want to turn your head
cause someday you're going to get hungry
and eat most of the words you just said

both my parents taught me about good will
and I have done well by their names
just the kindness I've lavished on strangers
is more than I can explain
still there's many who've turned out their porch lights
just so I would think they were not home
and hid in the dark of their windows
til I'd passed and left them alone

and god help you if you are an ugly girl
course too pretty is also your doom
cause everyone harbors a secret hatred
for the prettiest girl in the room
and god help you if you are a pheonix
and you dare to rise up from the ash
a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy
while you are just flying back

I'm not trying to give my life meaning
by demeaning you
and I would like to state for the record
I did everything that I could do
I'm not saying that I'm a saint
I just don't want to live that way
no, I will never be a saint
but I will always say

squint your eyes and look closer
I'm not between you and your ambition
I am a poster girl with no poster
I am thirty-two flavors and then some
And I'm beyond your peripheral vision
So you might want to turn your head
Cause someday you might find you're starving
and eating all of the words you said

One of life's Mysteries

IG and Tyler wax lyrical

Why, after numerous glasses of red wine, do otherwise sane men venture to the nearest deck with cigars in hand?

I can't accurately put into words the disgusting taste in my mouth this morning, and I'm so dehydrated I asked Sandra to run in a saline line for me. I am yet to hear her reply, although I suspect she would rather watch me suffer!

But then again, our entry into the world was a traumatic affair - why not the new year as well?

My head hurts!