The Chronicles Of…

I’m not exactly a screaming lefty, nor am I an uber conservative. I’d like to think that my political views are somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. I often agree with some arguments used by the various parties and factions, while disagreeing entirely with the next thing that the same party says. I have voted at one time or another for most of the major parties, and a few of the smaller ones. I try to listen to each group’s views, and make my own decisions based upon the information that I have been presented with, rather than just agreeing with my favourite group at the time.

Having said all of that, it’s very rare that I can hear a Bob Brown quote in the news without feeling frustrated and annoyed. It’s nothing personal. I’ve never met the man, and for all I know he could be a lovely bloke who saves orphans from burning buildings in his spare time. He just seems to be a professional whinger, and it’s very tiring. The quotes I read are almost always complaints against some policy or other, and over-the-top claims of how this particular decision is going to be the end of the world. Again.

Take this story for example. It’s quite possible that Mr Brown has a point, that hosting a(nother) large and (semi) permanent US military group on our shores might annoy some other nations in the world. Mr Brown suggests that the issue should be debated before the policy is announced publicly. If he stopped there, I might think “gee, that’s a point, maybe the matter should be discussed in parliament, rather than a decision being made in isolation.” The initial statement seems to suggest that Mr Brown would prefer not to upset our nation’s neighbours, especially the ones who are most influential on a global scale (e.g. China).

But then Mr Brown does his usual trick of making his sensible argument fade away into a rant with this quote:

”China has nuclear weapons that can be lobbed on Australia.”

Yep. That’s a helpful statement to keep things sensible and peaceful.

That’s my issue with the man. He’s a politician. He’s been elected on a number of occasions, to represent a portion of our society. A lot of people have placed significant trust in him. He’s speaking to journalists, with the intent to use the broadcasted words to influence official national policies. And yet, he just throws around statements like that, seemingly without recognising that this sort of quote is also unhelpful at keeping international peace. I’m not saying his speeches are equally upsetting to a foreign nation as allowing American troops to be based in our country (assuming that the military presence affects our relationship in a negative way at all – I don’t know if it does). I’m just saying that for a man who claims to be all about peace and mung beans*, he also seems to be slightly inconsistent.

I also know that he’s not the only annoying/inconsistent/hypocritical politician/person around. He’s just someone who sets my teeth on edge for some reason. He has the ‘fingernails on chalkboard’ effect on me, the way I’m sure I do upon many people also.

I’m assuming he’ll be able to sleep at night perfectly well despite this fact, and I certainly don’t begrudge him that. I just wish I was able to agree with him more, because I really don’t enjoy the current two-party system, that seems to be a choice between two very similar viewpoints, disguised as opposing forces. The major party politicians seem much more interested in getting re-elected (and ensuring their pension plans are safe) than actually helping their society. Of course, that’s just my ill-informed opinion, and I really don’t count for very much at all.

In any case, it’s almost day time, and I should be off to bed so that I can go back to work again this evening.

* I have no evidence that Mr Brown has ever claimed to be all about beans of any sort, especially not of the Mung variety.

I don’t think I’ve ever received a blog request before, but as per a tweet from Howie, here’s a brief mention of our recent trip to Melbourne.

A few weekends ago we went on a family trip to Melbourne to visit our good friend Stephen Fry. The trip down was uneventful – the baby even slept through the majority of the flight once a pillow had fixed the ol’ “seatbelt buckle digging into the back and causing tears” problem. The hotel was decent enough, and as usual, Melbourne captured my heart via my stomach (and/or tastebuds).

We started Friday in a hipster-filled laneway in the middle of the city that was home to a wonderful little restaurant that served great food and lovely coffee. I had a tomato ragout dish with a poached egg that made me whimper (in a good way). I was fairly tempted to pair it with a bottle of wine, but managed to resist the temptation and just drink ‘sensible’ coffee. We found the same place a couple of times throughout the weekend, but I can’t find it on GoogleMaps. I suspect it’s somehow related to Diagon Alley.

In the evening before the theatre we rushed through a really nice Japanese meal, which I wish I could repeat again without the pressure of realising we’d left dinner a tad late, as the show was due to start. The theatre was a similar style to the State Theatre in Sydney, which I particularly like (mainly because I’ve seen some great acts there over the years – Dylan Moran, Ed Vedder, Sufjan Stephens, and Neil Finn come to mind. I think they were all at that venue?). The show started with Mr Fry wandering out onto stage and telling us how QI had come about. He seems to be genuinely fascinated by the little facts that they dig up, and spent about 45 minutes just chatting about previous trips to Australia, various QI related trivia, and being generally charming. After that he brought the guests out one at a time, eventually bringing on Alan Davies (after initially claiming he was too ill to attend, which I almost believed, having read his tweets about being incredibly unwell.).

The Aussie guests were reasonable, but nowhere near as funny or interesting as the usual cast of the show. The only real disappointment of the night was Jono Coleman, who seemed to think that we’d all come to see him perform his ‘hilarious’ joke. He only had one joke [if you can call it that], which was to constantly link every topic of conversation to Lara Bingle. There was no context for it, and no one else on stage seemed to find it amusing. In fact, after Mr Fry had asked who Bingle was, and had it explained to him, he seemed completely confused as to why Coleman kept mentioning her. Everyone else in the room was similarly confounded. Coleman would buzz in on every question, and say something inane, often talking over the other guests who were actually attempting to make relevant jokes, answer questions, or mention a related interesting fact (i.e. play the game that they were there to play). On at least one occasion Alan Davies appeared to get so sick of Coleman that he turned his back on him and just concentrated on the other guests. That didn’t seem to phase the moron though, and he just carried on trying to segue Lara Bingle references into every question.

The rest of the show was good fun, even if most of the questions had been recycled from old episodes of the program, so we had heard the ‘proper’ answers before. It didn’t stop some great tangential conversations over the evening, and it was great entertainment that finished all too quickly.

The rest of the weekend was spent wandering around the Queen Victoria Markets (buying and eating a lot of cheese); seeing the Tutankhamun exhibition at the museum; and generally eating and drinking a lot. A particular highlight was a lovely meal in a Nepalese restaurant. We caught a train out to see Puffing Billy , but when we arrived we were told that we had just missed the last ride of the day. We compromised by having our picnic lunch (with a fairly average ‘organic’ wine) under a shelter out of the bucketing rain, and waited for the steam train to return. It did. We had some photos. I giggled at the catering girl who rolled her trolley full of dirty dishes off the edge of the platform onto the tracks. Then I felt guilty for giggling and felt that I should offer to help, but her boss got in there instead. I probably would have been a third wheel anyway.

We also got an extended holiday, courtesy of Qantas. Luckily I had been playing with my phone and found out about this early enough to contact the hotel and arrange for us to be able to stay an extra night while we found alternative transport. We didn’t actually get told by Qantas (via a text message) that our flight had been cancelled until a couple of hours before the flight. If we hadn’t known already, we would have checked out, and would have spent a night in the airport, as apparently there was some sort of horse race on in town, which meant that a lot of hotels were full. Me being a massive gambler had no idea that the race was on, and didn’t factor that into my planning. In fact, I had been impressed with how dressed up the average Melbournite got, when wandering through the city. I also feel justified now in playing with my phone constantly, despite my wife telling me that I’m disengaged, or not listening, or whatever it was she was saying while I was reading tweets. Who knows what other problems I can solve in the future…?

Richard Branson was kind enough to let us squeeze onto one of his overcrowded planes a day later, and we got home safely. Although the Virgin Australian flight attendant seemed to resent having a quiet baby on his flight, and gave us dirty looks the whole time, despite only about 30 seconds of crying over the whole flight (phew). I was able to coordinate the necessary changes to my work roster via text message with my supervisor, instead of the epic process I was used to when I was in my previous role. That decision was definitely worthwhile.

There you go, Howie. You finally dragged a blog out of one of us.

Man, that sounds awful.

The lads who regularly neglect writing for this blog try to get together about once a year for a weekend of such manliness, that we remove all traces of the X chromosone. That weekend is therefore known as ‘YY’. Sometimes this has involved camping, fires, and meat. Other times it has involved sharing a hotel room and watching TV.
This year, despite grand ideas of expanding the ‘membership’ of the YY fraternity, we have struggled to make our hectic schedules fit together, and even with a recent flurry of emails comparing diaries, it looks like 2011 might be a YY-free-year unless we can throw something together at the last minute in November (December is out, as the Dicker family is off adventuring).

For this reason I am a tad sad and disappointed.

On the up-side, some nice things are happening. Our house is about to start being built (although I believe the Howies have called dibs on at least part of the premises?). Our little one is growing up rapidly and is starting to do things. I’m really enjoying my work. The wife has been doing well with her driving lessons, and is excited to start driving in her very own car soon (I think it’s name is ‘Frog’). We’re going on a little trip to Melbourne next month to see QI being filmed live (I assume that means we’ll also be hanging out with Stephen for a day or two?).

YY?

Y wish.

So what’s been happening with everyone? No blogs for ages…

Work has been quite hectic for me lately. Loads of things happening, and I was recently informed that my interview/exam for a permanent position in my current role will be held in November. That means I have a month or so to prepare, and the study guide is about 6 inches thick… nervous. I’m enjoying the ‘new’ role though, and I think I’ve made the right decision to move ‘upstairs’. I also enjoy wearing suits. I am such a dandy.

The baby is doing really well. He’s started smiling on cue, and is sleeping for extended times at night, which is nice. Phew.

We finally got a development approval for our house, and after paying over $10,000 in ‘contributions’ to the local Council, we’re getting closer to being allowed to start the actual building process. If anyone would like to help me build a fence around some trees that need to be preserved on-site next weekend (Saturday 10th September), you’re welcome to come and assist. My building prowess is fairly limited, and I suspect I’ll resort to bashing some sticks into the ground and crying until someone vaguely talented in this area comes to help. It’s nice to know that we’re potentially only a few weeks (months?) away from having the concrete slab laid. We’ve been torturing ourselves by watching numerous episodes of ‘Grand Designs’ in the meantime, and getting inspired whilst simultaneously judging people for their ‘poor’ decisions.

We’re currently house-sitting for a couple of weeks, so we have a pool. Pity it’s so cold right now, or I’d be writing this in my shorts whilst drinking a poolside cocktail (there’s a nice mental image for you all. If it makes you feel any better, I’m actually wearing ugg boots and trackydacks.).

Any other news?

Tomorrow morning I go back to work after having a month off with the newest addition to our family. I’m already nervous about how much work I need to get done after having all this time off. There are assignments for a course that need to be completed, as well as plenty of other items that need to be actioned. Of course, all of that is in addition to the normal day-to-day things that come along.

I found out the other day that they’ve re-booked me onto a course that I didn’t want to do. This is after they also told me that I wasn’t eligible to do it, and that my boss would never allow me to go. When I told them that I hadn’t applied to be on it in the first place, and that I was glad that I wouldn’t be going, they somehow decided that I must be playing hard to get, and confirmed the booking. In doing so, they screwed around my roster for the next two weeks (I still don’t know when I’m working this week, except for tomorrow), and also dropped someone off the course who was eligible to participate, and who actually wanted to go. I’m so glad that our organisation is so efficient.

On a similar note, it seems that while I was away they had an awards day, and that my name was read out for one of the awards. The person who organised the awards (and invitations etc) asked me (after the fact, at a social function) why I hadn’t been at the ceremony. When I explained that I hadn’t been informed about the ceremony or my award, they seemed surprised, and asked me who should have told me. Yep, that’s right. This would be bad enough, but it turns out a few people had been called in to work at the last minute (on their day off) to attend the ceremony, then did not receive any awards. Again, stellar administrative skills from a person who apparently wanted a ‘desk job’ instead of what they had previously been doing. You’re welcome, people of our State. We deserve a payrise, though, right?

If it sounds as though I’m slightly disgruntled, I’m not, I just find the whole situation slightly amusing. I’m still very happy working for this particular organisation, and genuinely enjoy my job. There’s a fairly good chance that my job is changing slightly at the end of the month, when I am told that I’ll be taking a different role. This will mean I get to wear a suit and tie to work each day, instead of the same clothes as everyone else. It also means that I have to do a lot more study over the next few years, but I’ll be working a lot more regular hours for at least the short term.

In family news, the boy is doing very well, and is still surprising me with how competent he is at sleeping and eating. Even if I had hoped he would have learned a few more tricks by now, at least he’s doing his core tasks to a reasonable standard. I’m grateful for the time I’ve been able to spend at home with him in these early days, and I’m a little bit sad that I won’t get as much daily interaction with him now. I know that there are many people who have to work jobs that don’t let them see their family for weeks or months at a time, so I shouldn’t complain too much. I just want to be a part of his life, especially in these formative years when he’s changing so much on a daily basis.

Anyway, I suppose I should eat something and get an early night, right?

I recently decided that I was done with Facebook, and disabled my account.

I had accepted a number of friend requests over time that I wasn’t happy with, and felt that ‘un-friending’ them might lead to upsetting them. The fact that I didn’t really want to be their Facebook ‘friend’ suggests that in actual fact I needn’t worry too much about upsetting them, but there’s another insight into my fragile pschye. I suppose I could have just done it anyway, but in the end the decision to throw the baby out with the bath water (please note that this is a metaphor [Is it? Or is it an analogy? I always get those two mixed up] and that my son is currently safe and well, and isn’t in a drain somewhere) was easier than potentially offending a few people whose opinion really doesn’t matter all that much to me.

I was also religiously checking both Facebook and Twitter on a regular basis, and felt that I needed to cut down on the amount of unworthy religion in my life.

I’m still Tweeting like a mad Twit though.

I’ve attended a couple of work related ‘social’ functions in the past week or two, and they’ve reminded me how awkward a person I can be. I think that I’m usually reasonably competent at engaging in (at least some level of) conversation with people, but generally speaking I find it much more difficult to do so in the context of a mingling event. By ‘mingling’, I’m referring to those parties where there is a large group of people in a room, all spread out into little groups, and you sort of drift between groups trying to fit in.

It’s quite easy if you have a group of people that you know quite well, so you can just speak with them, but if you have a similar level of (non) relationship with virtually everyone in the room, it becomes a lot more complicated. Suddenly you’re forced to wander like some sort of nomad, looking for a familiar/friendly face in the crowd, and then try to sidle inconspicuously into the group without looking too desperate. Working out whether or not to participate in the actual conversation is a social minefield, especially if the topic at hand is one that is either foreign to you, or seems to be particular to the established group of people. Speaking too soon can make you appear even more ignorant or rude than you actually are (which would be quite impressive for me), however hesitating too long can mean missing the chance to actually engage, and being ‘awkwarded’ out of the circle.

The mixed group of familiar and unfamiliar people can be both a blessing and a curse. Either you get introduced to a whole new group of people, or you intrude upon a private conversation and potentially alienate one of the few ‘allies’ you had in the room. At one of the functions this week I sat down near one group and commented to a girl I know vaguely that she looked a bit upset “like you’ve just had a domestic, ha ha”. Turned out she had just finished a telephone argument with her partner and I had hit rather a raw nerve. I left that conversation fairly quickly. [NOTE: this girl usually has a 'sour' face, so seeing her look upset is not particularly unusual. I'm not that stupid.]

The bar can be a place of refuge, as you have a purpose for being there (getting a drink), and there’s usually a constant flow of people to have brief conversations with. The downside to this can be that you end up needing to use the bathroom every few minutes, or else become regrettably intoxicated. I shall leave that last option alone for now, as I’ve fallen prey to it on a number of unfortunate occasions. (Sorry)

On the whole, ‘proper sit down’ events are slightly easier because they take a great deal of the pressure off you in terms of choosing your conversational partners, and if in doubt you can just concentrate on eating your meal and occasionally commenting on it’s quality/quantity. Of course, if you get grouped with a group of people who have a pre-existing tight relationship you’ll end up eating silently and ignored all night. If you get grouped with the inevitable ‘weird’ table, then you’ll know what the host feels about you, and you’ll probably wish you could be silent and ignored.

I’m sure most people aren’t as neurotic as I am, and just enjoy themselves, but spending time alone at these events has given me plenty of time to think about them. The modern smartphone can be a great asset if you can’t leave, or else (as I did this week) you can always pretend you’re going to check the parking meter and sneak home after an hour or two.

My first impressions?

A fairly impressive experience.

To elaborate, I think I’ve been fairly well prepared. As usual for me, I haven’t had a ‘Eureka moment’, so much as a gradual acceptance and growth. I realise it’s (very) early days, but I think we’re balancing things as well as possible so far. Sleep is reduced, but I’m a shift worker, so I’m basically used that that already. I need to think about the welfare of someone other than myself, but I’d like to think that I’ve been attempting to grow in that discipline for a little while now (hopefully I’ve progressed slightly over the past decade).

The birth went reasonably well as far as such things go. The only details I’m willing to share on the internet are the soundtrack (Sigur Ros; Elbow; Mumford & Sons) and the fact that my wife was brave/foolhardy enough to forego the use of any painkilling drugs throughout the process. I was able to be as involved as I was allowed to be, and had very much a ‘front-row’ position. In terms of how I coped, I’m sticking with the phrase “strong stomach” instead of the possible alternatives (“emotionally dead”/”serial-killer-in-the-making” etc).

My son (who is apparently fond of the music of Muddy Waters) is currently in hospital being given a fake tan (I assume that was the purpose of the giant lamp over his bed), but apart from that is remarkably healthy. For that, and for many other things, I am incredibly grateful to the Lord Jesus Christ. I am sincere about that, despite the phrase being sullied by awards ceremonies and footballers on a regular basis. At least Kanye didn’t interrupt proceedings at any stage to suggest that a different child should have been born.

Since I turned 18 I have participated in democracy quite a number of times. As of this weekend, I still have not accepted a single “how to vote” card from any of the people outside the polling venues.

You’re welcome.

I went to see Ed Vedder’s solo show at the State Theatre tonight. As I expected, he was fantastic. Crowd were fairly enthusiastic, although there were a few pockets of loud (drunk?) idiots who couldn’t stop yelling for most of the night. One female bogan even tried to get an “Aussie Aussie Aussie” chant going. Thankfully only one moron returned the “Oi Oi Oi”, and she didn’t try again. Phew.

Highlights for me were Porch, Immortality, Dead Man, Golden State and Hard Sun.There was also a brilliant new version of ‘Better Man’ that was quite difficult to pick at first. Completely new melody and rhythm to freshen up a familiar song.

Only got one photo (during the final encore [featuring Jimmy Barnes' daughter, who was one half of the support act]) as the venue staff were very attentive to enforcing their ‘no photography’ rule in the section we were seated in. Posted on Twitter as per Dicker’s request.

Right, I’m off to bed. Not too much tinnitus this evening for once.