Minority Report

No this is not a Tom Cruise post.

I am definitely in the minority. I've just realised. I've looked over all the blogs that I commonly read, and every single one of them is authored by a woman. Where are all the interesting fellas out there? Surely I should have found another blogger, another bloke, who I might find interesting to read about? Or is this blogging thing mainly a female thing? Perhaps every other male on the planet on the web is too busy downloading porn or playing World of WarCraft? Or living a Second Life (similar to downloading porn...) Or am I only interested in what women have to say? Do I enjoy the company of women more? Am I a dreaded S-N-A-G? Or am I a weirdo? I've just done a google search for blokes blogs. Two-fifths of f*ck all. Search for women blogs and you get site after site with pages and pages full of blogs by women. Far out brussel sprout. Has anyone else noticed this? Are there any stats out there? Are blokes supposed to be too cool to blog? I guess I'm not like your typical guy though. Why do I blog? Just because. I like to be able to record my thoughts. Is it like a diary? Yes and no. I still would not post my most private thoughts. I daren't not for so many reasons. I like to be able to just blaaaaaaght onto the page. It's good to acknowledge my feelings in this way. This I suppose is a very non-blokey thing to do. Perhaps I shouldn't use the term bloke to describe myself. I think of the term bloke more in terms of the typical man's man type. That's not me. I'm intelligent, private, unassuming, reflective, intuitive, complicated. Is this more like the typical woman blogger? Perhaps! Certainly the bloggers I read are a lot like this. I guess it doesn't matter. No it doesn't. It's interesting but. I'd never thought about blogging as being like this. I had anticipated to some extent that there would be a huge variety of bloggers out there. But there's not, there are a small number of types. Here's what I've observed so far.

1. MySpace types. These are the bloggers who only blog with their mates. Typically aged in mid-teens. Talk about boys, school and clothes. Take pictures of themselves with their mobile phones and have some poxy background music. Example.

2. Get rich! types. False blogs trying to suck you in to some bullsh*t money making scheme. Example.

3. Mommy types. Women who blog about their kids and/or their sewing. Don't kid yourself ladies, your life is not interesting. (Sorry, that's a bit harsh!). Example.

4. Sextape types. Of course. Click this link for hot sexy web cams now! Example.

5. Political types. Bush is a w*anker and 9/11 was a conspiracy. Example.

6. Normal Folk types. Just like you and me. We are interesting, intelligent, a little humourous and posting whatever is happening, whatever we're thinking, stuff that's real. Another Example.


This blog is my Wilson. Wilson!

Japan post #3

This post will be about just a few of the people that I crossed paths with while in Japan. Everyone (and I mean everyone) was really very polite. Not prudish however!

You may know or have heard about the Japanese "thing" for karaoke. Now I've never been a big fan of karaoke. In fact prior to my trip, I'd only ever done karaoke once before, and that was with a bunch of mates (wasted of course) doing Echo Beach at the Quakers Inn. Sad in so many ways, I can't believe I'm admitting to it. Never the less, here I was in a bar in Himeji. A very small karaoke bar with only my work mates and hosts. Mama-san was filling our glasses with Chivas before they were empty. Oh well, here goes.....

My boss and I do a beautiful rendition of Stayin' Alive. You won't believe that I hit that falsetto perfectly! There was something Elvis, I can't remember what. Suspicious Minds I think. And then my finale. My solo. John Denver's Country Roads.... Take me home..... to the place.... I belong! You know the rest! Fortunately, no photos of that night!

Here's a picture though of some school kids in Kyoto. Now why the heck would I be taking a photo of some school kids? Well, we were wandering up to this temple thingy - not sure exactly what it was - and these girls approached us. All giggly. The boys came over and asked could they take our photo with the girls.
Um sure... ?
(Insert mental image of excited girls jumping up and down here)
"Are you a movie star?" they ask.
Sure!!!
(insert high pitched squeal here)
They can't contain their excitement. They boys take their camera and take a few shots of the girls with me. They squeal some more, then go to leave.
"Wait, I'll take a picture of you too" I say. (This is too funny to pass up).
They squeal some more. I take this picture, then they skip off. Literally. Who knows, perhaps you'll find a picture of me with them on another blog. "The day I met a movie star on my school excursion to Kyoto". Too funny.

Lastly, this photo is one of me (blurry head) and a little old lady. It was very hot in Kyoto and we'd been out in it all day. Walking down from one particular temple, we came across this little stall. Selling beer. By the long-neck. OK. Let's stop for a quick break. From memory, there were about 500 Yen. What I remember clearly is that they were icy-cold. How good was this. At one end of the path was an ancient temple. The other, a long row of market stalls. And right in the middle was a little old lady selling icy-cold Kirin. I had two. And took one for the road. So now I'm walking through the markets and streets of Kyoto, beer in hand. Loving it. Then we walk into a McDonalds (still with beer in hand) and get some tucker. As you can see, the old lady is very short, and I'm quite tall. The whole time I was there, I came across only one person who was as tall as me - and that was at the airport on the way home. It made for excellent sight seeing. Just look over everyone's heads!

So that was a little about some of the people I came across in Japan. Until next time, sayonara!

Passionless Regret

You know how they say, the things that you'll regret the most are the things you didn't do? That's so true.

Recently, I bought a new car. Well, a second hand (pre-loved) type of new car. I budgeted twenty grand. Hmmm. Decisions decisions.

I thought for that much, I could get a brand new Corolla, or Focus. And I had a look. They seemed.... I suppose cheaply finished. They looked fine and all, but were missing something. I would have been disappointed. So I thought a more upmarket second hand car would be better. It would not depreciate as much and if I found one in good nick, it would be just as reliable as a new car should be.

Now let me fill you in on a little bit about, well, about me. Some time ago, I discovered something that made me go ga-ga. I'd never felt passionate about a car before. Until I went to the Sydney Motor Show this year and discovered.... Alfa Romeo.

Oooh yes!

I'd never thought much of them before. Until now. Until I sat in one. Until I sat in the little black GT with red leather seats. (Insert picture of my tongue on the floor here....). Perhaps it was the scantily clad brunette handing out brochures. "Hi there! Would you like to sit in one? Here you go". The GT. The Brera. It doesn't matter. I'd take either.

Back to the story. OK, now I was walking past some user car lots, with an open mind about what I might like. Open to considering anything I saw that looked nice. Then I see a little red Alfa 147. Hmmm. That looks nice.

Take a look M.

Take a seat M.

Take it for a drive M!

So I'm behind the wheel of an Alfa for the very first time. The clutch is much shorter than I'm used to - but it doesn't take long to get used to!

Oh. my.

Oh. oh. my.

Grin grin grin.

This is awesome to drive.

The acceleration.

The braking.

The handling.

The ride.

The feel.

The comfort.

The looks from people around me.

Oh, the passion!

After about 30 minutes, I pull back into the yard.

"So, what'll it take to get you to sign?"

"Well, it's the first car I've driven today" (It really was)

"I'll really have to keep looking"

"This car will sell today" (Yeah right)

"I'll come back, trust me" (I really thought I would)

So on I go, to more car yards. And then I find the car I will eventually buy. It's bigger. It's the same price. It's practical. It will be cheaper to run, maintain and insure. And it is a very nice car. So hey, I bought it!

But this is my regret. I have no passion for it. It is a passion-less car. I am still thinking about that Alfa. It felt so good to drive. I felt so good driving it. (I felt young!) I felt alive. I just felt.

So why didn't I buy it. Because I thought of reasons not to, and let them persuade me. Rather than just letting myself do something that felt right. Too often in the past few years I haven't done something despite it feeling right. All those times I've not trusted my feelings, it's turned out wrong. And every time I have trusted my feelings, things have turned out right.

Why do I do it? Why do I sacrifice my self-trust for supposed rationality?

Next time.... I will buy that Alfa.

Fair or unfair?

An employee of mine has broken a serious "rule" that may result in them being fired. I need some advice.

Could everyone who reads this - please - provide an answer to this one question.

Where is the boundary between fair and unfair dismissal?

Thanks.....

Japan post #2

In a previous post, I shared how great the rail transport in Japan is. I've dug out some of the photos of my trip. These are my three favourite photos of some of the places I went.

This place ranks number one. This is Nara, the original capital city of Japan. We went to Nara park (which is full of deer that you can feed), and to this temple: Todaiji.

I took this photo from just inside the entry to the temple grounds. Apparently, this is the largest wooden building in the world and houses the largest Budda statue in Japan. It was pretty big!

The next one is Osaka Castle. This is right in the middle of the city. The inside of the castle is completely modernised - you take an elevator to the top. It's a great view. The grounds are filled with gardens, as you can see in the photo.

I can't remember exactly where I took this photo, but I really like it. I recall having to wait ages to take it because I didn't want any people in it so I had to time it just right.

That's all folks! Next time, I'll post about some of the things I did and people I met. Sayonara.

Bias

I read a pretty interesting article in the SMH today. Michael Duffy writes about a new book by Nassim Nicholas Taleb called "The Black Swan". It describes how "experts" in their field are often worse at predicting outcomes than a lay person or even random choice. (I always thought that Phil Gould was a lousy tipper). Of course, I've not read the book yet, having only heard about it today. I'm intrigued however and for many reasons.

Duffy drops a G.K. Chesterton quote into his article quite clumsily. "A person who no longer believes in God will believe in anything". I'll reserve judgement on that. Perhaps I'll post another time about my belief system, however it certainly doesn't involve the traditional happily-ever-after.

One piece that resonated with me was a point made about "narrative fallacy". It is where the cause an event is explained through a description of the events leading up to it. The premise is that this cause is only seen after the fact, and therefore it is often false. This effectively is hindsight bias - and this is why this interests me so much. After something happens, the fact that it did happen makes it appear much much more likely that it should have happened that way. i.e. I-knew-it-all-along. Or more importantly, you-should-have-known-it-all-along-and-done-something-about-it.

Connected to this issue is the fact that we humans tend to have a pretty poor ability to estimate risk at the high-consequence low-probability end. We always over estimate how likely such an event will occur.

Now why is all this important? Even if you have not understood much of what I've been saying hear, there is still a point to be had. These cognitive "problems" (hindsight bias, expert false prediction, poor risk estimation) cause chaos for me every day of the week. That is, every week day.

In my work, I have to deal with management of risks (to the business and to people), and I have to solve problems. The cognitive problems I listed effectively cause conflict in the workplace and limit my productivity. I'll explain...

Say there is a person injured quite badly in a sister factory, on the other side of the world. Every other plant has to implement improvements to ensure that this injury does not occur in their plant. Seems reasonable? Yes, but also no. Prior to the accident, we had not considered that this type of hazard existed. In many ways, we still don't. So is the problem that we react with hindsight bias or were we not good enough at recognising the hazard and thank-goodness we can learn from this injury. I think more than likely the former. And this is the opinion of everyone else in the plant and this causes conflict. Not only is time and money invested in the wrong way, the message is sent that local issues and knowledge are less important and trusted than upper management. This reinforces the barriers of mistrust between management and workers.

This type of thing happens all the time. I pull my hair out. I'll have to get a copy of The Black Swan. Sounds like it's right up my alley. Of course, that would simply feed my confirmation-bias.

Super-powers?

Couldn't you go one? That's the slogan I remember for the Chiko Roll. Others include "Grab a Chiko" and "You Can't Knock the Roll."

I had a Chiko Roll for lunch today. It's one of those love-em or hate-em foods don't you think? And so very Aussie. I never knew this before, but they've been around since the Wagga Wagga show in 1951. And they've stood the test of time!

You don't really want to know what's in these things though. I'll still tell you now. Like a car accident, you can't look away. They still taste good but.

The ingredients, apparently, are mutton, celery, cabbage, barley, rice, carrot and spices. And the thing is deep fried. Twice.

Now I can't profess to being a big mutton fan. And actually, I detest the taste and smell of celery. I have an allergy to barley (sorry to say, particularly in beer). And cabbage... well cabbage does other offensive things to me. Let's not talk about that any more. However, put them all together... put them all magically together and you have something that gives you special powers!

Faster than a union organiser calling a stop work meeting!

More powerful than a WorkCover inspector!

Able to balance budgets in a single round!

My kryptonite?

Hahaha..... not telling!

Chill-out

It appears that music is often the theme of my and many other blogs of late. And why not, it can do wonders for your soul. It can fix things that are broken. It can take you to another place. It can understand when no one person can. It can be a friend. It can revoke memories of good times. I spent my evening last night doing something I hadn't done for too long - put on my headphones, lie on the couch in the dark and listen to some dulcet tones. And in true M-style, put on my beanie over the top. It was cold last night! Except I looked a bit like a cyberman! Oh, and by the way.... I love my Sennheiser RS45 wireless headphones. No cables, long range (I even mow the grass wearing them sometimes).

Anyway. Back to the story. I had recently found a CD I thought was lost. Jim Morrison - An American Prayer. I posted before about how this contains some of the best song lyrics of all time. Well, I chilled out last night. Immersed. And then for something completely different and daggy, The Best of Seals and Croft. My father used to play the original LP when I was young. There was a restaurant near where I live (although now closed down) who always used to play Seals and Croft as background music.

I used to listen a lot to The Cure, late at night, on the couch, with my headphones. The album "Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me" is a favourite for this. The energy of the tracks varies greatly so I go on a roller coaster from start to finish. Again I reminisce. Back in the day when this album was first released, my sister and I both wanted to buy it, but being a double album couldn't afford it. So we both put in for it and shared it. I hear that The Cure are touring Australia soon. Might be worth the $100 ticket eh!

Goodnight!

Confidence

Whenever I start something new, I'm brimming with confidence. Nothing can't be achieved. I will succeed at whatever I decide to try and there is no question in my mind that it will happen.When I've been doing something for quite a while, I'm also very confident. All the experience and skill I have built up serve me extremely well.

Then there are the times in between. The things I've just started to learn. People I just recently met. An activity that I'm half-way through. This is the time when I can start to question myself. I don't know why.There are a few things like this going on right now. I'm questioning my ability to see it through. I'm questioning my contribution. I'm uncertain if things are different to the way they appear. I'm wondering if I've overstepped the line.

So I need to do something about this.
Here's my 5-second research results:

Overconfident: In the absence of anxiety a person could become reckless due to overconfidence. This state can be identified by the cognitive thought process of everything appearing rosy. An overconfident person doesn't see the need to consider all possible outcome and is sure the outcome will be what he / she has perceived.

Unconfident: An unconfident person on the other hand gets paralyzed due to anxiety. The person tends to have lots of self-doubts, becomes very critical about himself / herself and have low opinion of self (low self esteem). This causes a vicious cycle where the anxiety cripples the person into inaction, and he / she continues to berate him/herself thus creating more anxiety.

Confidence: When the anxiety is at an optimum level, you are at your best. You know that negative outcomes are possible, but rather than exaggerating or minimizing it, you give it the due attention necessary (what can I do if this happens ...). So perhaps a better definition of confidence is the state of balanced perceptions and preparation.

So if unconfidence is an issue, then one must break the cycle. If this cycle includes inaction, them simply doing something should assist this. But recognise that checking, reflecting and if required modifying this action then ensures that the action taken is correct, thus reversing the negative self-confidence cycle. Perhaps I'm overconfident and I slip up, then become unconfident and due to being very hopeful, I bounce between the two. But how to be balanced between the two. Be aware of the need to be aware of the negative but planning against it and then getting on with it.

Sounds like Nike were onto something.

Now I've sorted that out, what's next....

Fling

I know that this is a bit cheeky of me but I couldn't resist. AJ and ciscobaby, this post is for you.



Enjoy ;-)

State Park

A few days ago I posted about some time I spent in Japan. A few years ago, I was fortunate enough to spend some time in the US on business. While there and driving through Kentucky, I passed a sign with directions to this place. Immature, I know, but I don't think I need say more.... What were they thinking?

Old friend

I got thinking about an old friend today. A number of years ago, I spent some time at one of those workplace love-in courses. You know, where you go away for a number of nights with colleagues, hug trees and sing Kumbya. This one was a little different.

This program was for ten days and I didn't know anyone else there. The people running the program basically shelled our minds like peanuts, then put us back together again. This was a significant life experience for many of us. I was doing it tough. One fellow participant, Kim, showed a great amount of compassion and understanding for what I was going through. She looked after me emotionally and we became quite close. Thank you.

I've met a couple of people recently who have reminded me of Kim. These people exhibit similar levels of caring, compassion and honesty about their feelings. I welcome the stark contrast that this adds to my life. It's currently keeping me a little saner than I otherwise would be.

I think I still have Kim's number. I ought to pick up the phone...

The Midori Pass-Out night

Following on from the recent "my first-beer-first-drink-first-drunk" theme, here's the story about the night I met my wife. I'm sure I'll tell it very differently when it's the "how-I-met-your-mother" story. First, I'll set the scene.

I'm 18 and have finished my first year of university. There are four typical aussie blokes, who are all getting geared up for a big night on the drink. It is after all, new year's eve! We've all assembled at my place, a flat I share with one of the notorious four. OK, let's get the evening underway, get your drinks ready, it's time to Pass Out!

OK, now here is where the funny bit starts. I don't mean actually to pass out, but we are playing a board game called Pass Out. A Christmas gift from my flatmate, it's basically a game to facilitate getting totally rotten. A bit like Monopoly, except instead of trading real estate, you sink piss. Instead of passing Go and collecting $200, you have to say a tongue-twister. This is where the Midori comes in. To this day, I don't know why I chose to drink Midori, but I don't think I've touched it since. The bottle was empty by the time I had about three pink elephants (one tongue twister = one pink elephant). We never actually finished the game that night, and didn't finish any other time we tried. I guess that's the point. There's no way anyone can drink enough to play long enough to collect ten pink elephants thus the purpose of the game is met. No-one actually passed out, but the normally 10 minute walk to the pub of choice was a 25 minute stagger. Or stumble.

So it's still a little while before midnight. We got to the pub on time. Switch to beer now. Wait, there's bourbon, let's have some of that first. Great.

OK, let's pause the story for a moment to recap on the situation and set the scene for what follows. I'm totally nutted, and so are my mates. It's getting close to midnight and we're in a crowd of similarly-tanked revellers. All I'm thinking of at this point is the drink in my hand and making sure I know where the nearest bathroom is. And singing stupid Chisel songs at the top of my lungs. And standing on the table singing stupid Chisel songs at the top of my lungs. I digress, back to the story...

One of my mates, has found a group of girls for us to talk to. Maybe he didn't look as stupidly drunk as the rest of us. I saunter over, trying to look cool. Turns out my mate met a couple of these girls on a cruise ship after finishing school the year before. He introduced us. My flatmate was far too pissed to care less.

"Hmmm, you look nice" I think to myself. I go over to the pretty brunette sitting on the wall. She's shy. I start talking a little. Or rather, the drink starts talking. I don't know what I'm saying. She is still shy. We talk some more. I'm too drunk-confident to pick up the "leave-me-alone-you-drunk-idiot" signals she's sending. I put my arm around her. She's very polite. I'm thinking, "hmmm, I think she likes me!"

Midnight! I kiss my lovely stranger. "Can I have your phone number? I'll call you. We can go out." She blurts it out. Sweet! A bit more drunk-cuddling and kissing and we all bid farewell. The night is over.

Now before I describe what happens next, here's what I later learned to be my dear-wife's version of events....

Who's this drunk fool coming over here? I don't want to talk to you, go away! Why aren't my friends helping me? Help! What the heck is he talking about? Just be polite, and he might so away. Midnight! OK, just one kiss, make it quick! My phone number? Fine, he's too drunk to remember it anyway, at least it will get rid of him! Leave me alone!

OK, now back to my story. The next morning, I have somehow remembered her phone number. I decide to call. No time like the present! Her father answers the phone. "No, she's not home yet, try again this afternoon." OK. I call back later.

me - "Hi it's M from last night" (hey hey hey baby!)

her - "um hi" (oh my God, I can't believe he remembered my number!)

blah blah blah

me - "Do you want to go and see a movie tonight" (she seems nice even now I'm sober!)

her - "Sure" (whatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo?bugger!)

We go to see Point Break. Nothing like a Keanu Reeves movie to impress the ladies! She talks the whole time because she's so nervous. And the rest is history.

JR Shinkansen

Let's make it clear from the get-go. I'm not at all well travelled. I did however get the chance to spend some time in Japan a number of years ago. I got thinking about it this week and got talking about it with some people I know who have also spent some time there.

We shared our experiences and remarked at how we often say how great it is to live in Australia, and how visitors who come here say how great it is to visit. We hear about how laid back we are, how great the weather is, the beaches, and so on. I've not come across any city in Australia though were the people are just so damn polite as they are in Japan. And everything is "right". The trains run on time every time. There is no litter, no homeless (well, very few, I saw one in Osaka) and nothing is run down. And I was impressed with the trains. Don't freak, I'm no trainspotter or anything. These things were quite the contrast to what I was used to.

On the bullet train from Osaka to Kyoto, the JR Shinkansen, I asked my companion how far we had left to travel to Kyoto.
"We will arrive in twelve minutes."
"OK, but how far is it"
"The train is due to arrive in Kyoto at 10:19am. It is now 10:07am. Twelve minutes."
Fine. So you don't know where we are exactly or you don't understand my question.
"How many kilometres away from Kyoto are we?"
pause...
"I don't know, but it will take us... now eleven minutes"
Sure...
(insert eleven minutes here)
It's 10:19am. Exactly. We arrive.
"The trains always run on time in Japan. Always"
Awesome.

After a great day in Kyoto, we head for the train again to get back to Kansai (Osaka international airport). This time we catch the JR express, the Haruka. This line terminates at Kyoto so we wait for passengers to get off. The area is roped off and a cleaning crew get on to spruce it up. "Cool" I think. But wait, there's more. After they have finished cleaning, the seats start to move. Automatically. All of them at once. They rise up a few inches then take a twist, a full 180 degrees so they're now facing the other way. OK, now the train is ready for us to board. Welcome passenger, I hope your journey is a pleasant one!

Well that's enough for tonight. Perhaps another post soon about what I saw, what I ate (and drank), and who I met.

I miss The West Wing

An avid fan would be one very simple way to describe me. I have thought a little about the reason I love this show so much. I recall that it won some Emmy's in it's first seasons and it had not yet screened in Australia. I was intrigued. I wonder why it has won all these awards. It's a show about politics. Admittedly there are some well know actors in the cast. When it is shown here, I must check it out.

Well, I was won over from the first episode. Genius.

Forgive my rambling as I type and think at the same time now. I'm going to construct what watching the West Wing does for me....

I like the humour in the show, that's for sure. There is a certain intelligence about it that I love. I'm not normally one for the slapstick type comedy (although funniest home video tickles me sometimes). My favourite humour is the type that is situational and involves plenty of double meaning and irony. Certainly humour that is complex, and often I will laugh and things that others would not even consider as being remotely amusing. So yes, the West Wing has plenty of this type of humour.

There is definitely an energy about the show. Things bustle along, the characters are intelligent and very likable. They are all in positions of power and they get things done. The level of thinking, that is, the complexity of thought process the characters exhibit is something that I relate to. They think in systems, with future generations in mind and also trust their instincts. Again, I like this as a character trait and identify with it. In some ways I aspire to behave more like this in my life although perhaps I am being unfair on myself for assuming that I don't.

The way each episode is shot is just great. There is a flow of action from one room and scene to the next. This really suits the way the storyline within each episode and between episodes connect. That's what I really like too, the connectedness of everything. In line with my preference for systems thought processes, the connectedness of the stories and characters is a real attraction.

Of course, the cast are great. I am a fan of Rob Lowe - he does Sam brilliantly and I was so pleased to see his return to the final series. Of course, I thought they would have to bring him back at some time. How could they not?

And while I don't have a preference in U.S. politics, the show had the effect in making me believe that the Democrats were the good guys. The anguish in Bradley Whitford's (aka Josh) voice whenever he said the word "Republican" is worth the price of admission.

So to sum up, why do I miss the West Wing. All of the above. It gave me hope. I could escape. Watching this show, it was probably the first time that I actually cared about what was happening to the characters - I was not just interested in the storyline. I guess it was a bit of a learning experience in that respect. The same goes for my favourite book - Seven Types of Ambiguity by Elliot Perlman. I became so interested in the characters, the story was really inconsequential. I guess for me the story was about the people. I get it.

Of course I've bought all the DVDs and watch them over and over. I've even watch season seven twice already. Here's the episode guide.

I still get a bit of a fix from Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, the followup series from the Sorkin/Schlamme genius.

One of my most unforgettable moments while watching the west wing was on September 11, 2001. I was watching the show when the news of the first plane hitting the world trade centre was reported. Thanks Sandra Sully. It seemed like the West Wing became real-life. I was expecting that President Bartlett would start talking about it at any moment. Of course, later the West Wing did a special 9/11 episode. Surreal.

Anyway, that's all for now. Let's hope studio 60 doesn't die an early death. And the Sopranos is finishing up now too. At least I've got Big Love to watch now - it's just started here in Australia on SBS. Looks like a good show so far.

G'night.

My first beer story

Well. It appears to be the blog topic of the night! Thanks to aj and lisa for that little gem of an idea. Here's my story....

It's not actually about my first beer, rather the first time I got drunk that I remember. I used to play a bit of basketball when I was young. That is, a lot. School team captain, local A-grade, regional rep, etc. Anyway, my local A-grade side (a men's side) had decided to celebrate the end of the comp with a few ambers down at the local. Note: they were all "old"... aka late 20's to early 40's. I was 16.

This was 1989 and Tooheys Dry was fairly new to the market. I can't find a picture, but it was the one in the brown bottle with the silver label. I didn't drive (remember, I'm 16) so I got a lift from the courts to the pub. I was meeting up with my mother after her tennis match later on so I had time to have a beer and get back down there in time.

What'll you have M?
I don't know, whatever you're having.
Tooheys Dry? Fine.

Glugg Glugg Glugg.

Not bad. Not like the shandy I was used to..... better! Of course, I'm sh!tting myself because I'm a shy 16 year old in a big dirty smelly pub with a bunch of dudes who now seem not only unperturbed about buying beers for someone underage, but also on getting him a little drunk.

Another?
Sure, but I don't have any money. You do know that I'm only 16 right?
Sure! No-one cares. I'll shout you this one.

I do remember arriving at the tennis court, and I do remember that my mother immediately knew that I'd had waaaay more that I ever had before. She smiled that special mother smile. You know the one, you don't know if you're in trouble or not.

I don't think that the entire team shouted me, but who can really tell by now. Sure my head was spinning, but I felt OK. I was confident I'd survived the night. Memories of the first (and only) time I'd seen my father really drunk came back to me. I'm not like that. I can hold myself together!

Tennis over, we hopped in the car.

Are you OK?
Sure. Yep. Fine. No problem.
20 minutes pass. We're home.

Are you sure you're OK?
Yep. I just need to sleep. I'll be fine.
I wasn't. I was feeling worse now. What did I do? Why? Oh God why?

I won't describe the next half an hour. If only I could erase that 30 minutes of my life.
When they changed the formula, I could safely drink Tooheys (now Extra) Dry again. I guess I'm more like my father than I thought.

I never really drank too much in the past 18 years. (Boy do I feel old now!) But I went though phases. In chronological order...
-Tropicana.
-Sangria (Mexican wine punch) Yum!
-Vodka
-VB
-Home Brew
-Tooheys Old
-Guinness
-Midori (Sorry, it's true. A short lived phase but an important one. I met my wife while drunk on this stuff. Story for another day!)
-More Guinness
-Old Speckled Hen (ooooh yeah! On tap at the old Gymea pub!)
-Red red wine (Shiraz in particular. This phase is long and still lingers today)
-Pilsner Urquell (the original and the best)
-Any Japanese beer (love them all, but better when actually in Japan. Again, a story for another day.)
-Bundy (the current drink of choice)

Anyhow, I digress. So that's whet my appetite, not only for a bundy, but also for future posts.
For now, goodnight!

Skol!
Campai!
Prost!
Salud!
Cheers!

Love Theory

A week or so ago, while hitting the "next blog" link at the top of the page, I came across a site by a nun who was also a teacher. One of the subjects she was teaching involved studying Sternberg's triangular theory of love. Interesting I thought for a nun to be teaching this, but who am I to judge. I just got thinking about it more tonight however, so I googled-away and found some more links.

Just as an aside, do you notice how often wikipedia turns up in your google searches? Power to the people....

Right, so I was reading some more details on this theory, and it all seems perfectly logical. And of course, logical = good. And in Pate Biscuit's honour... here's a picture.....

So I'm thinking now that it can't really be that easy. Can it? Two people are attracted to one another, they find out that they like each other, then after a while they think this is working out great so let's commit. Ta-da! Consummate Love!

But it seems that this crazy little thing called love is a tad more difficult than that. Why? Look in more detail as what it really means to have Passion, Commitment and Intimacy.

Passion is the easy part. It's the hubba-hubba part. I don't need to spell it out any further. The only difficulty in maintaining this part of the puzzle is to defy the seven signs of aging. Oh yeah, okay so that is going to keep us challenged. Anyhow, I'm still young so what's next...

Commitment. Well, again, we know about this part. It's the I do part (whether in marriage or not), when we make a choice. I hear what you're saying, sometimes a choice actually is hard to make, or we change our minds, or we made the wrong choice. It makes sense doesn't it that we need to have either or both passion and intimacy before we would commit? Not always, but I'd reckon that most people today will only commit to someone who they like and are attracted to. No shit Sherlock.

Intimacy is the last piece. I left it to last intentionally. I understood it the least until now. Well, I still understand it the least but a lot more now. This piece on intimacy got me thinking a bit. Compare the volume of content in wikipedia on intimacy compared to passion and commitment and it's no wonder we so often get it wrong. It's so complicated! For example....

Intimacy has more to do with shared moments than sexual interactions.
Intimate feelings may be connected or confused with sexual arousal. (So which is it?)
Intimacy is linked with feelings.... (d'oh!)
For intimacy to be sustainable and nourishing it also requires trust, transparency and rituals of connection. (Thus the morning and afternoon coffee....)
Intimacy requires empathy - the ability to stand in the other's shoes.

But wait there's more....
Intimacy requires identity development. Que? You mean I need to know who-I-am ?

And here's the clincher....
Intimacy is both the ability and the choice to be close, loving and vulnerable.

Hang on. You mean that I have to make another choice? I already chose to commit, now I have to choose to be close, loving and, um... vulnerable? Whoa! Maybe I made the wrong choice! I liked the passion bit the best, can we just go back to that one? Please? ;-P

No wonder it doesn't always end in happily-ever-after. It's often one-sided....

It is worth distinguishing intimate relationships from strategic relationships. Intimate behaviour occurs in the latter but it is governed by a higher order strategy, of which the other person may not be aware. For example getting close to someone in order to get something from them or give them something. That 'something' might not be offered so freely if it did not appear to be an intimate exchange and if the ultimate strategy had been visible at the outset.
Secrets are generally hostile to intimacy in a committed relationship, but not knowing of the existence of a secret, one can continue to believe there is intimacy. Maintaining the illusion of intimacy may be a strategic skill where there is an imbalance of power brought about by the existence of a secret. Knowledge is the currency of power. Betrayal of intimacy can be a traumatic experience. The person can feel cheated as well as humiliated.

I heard that 50% of marriages in Australia fail. After my little bit of research tonight, I'm guessing it's not because my-bum-looks-big-in-this, but rather we fool ourselves into thinking that we don't have to put in effort. The effort to stay emotionally intimate with our partners. And that's the point really. It takes effort.

I cleaned the kitchen today. Does that count? :-P

G'night

Moggy

We have one cat and one dog. When we first moved into our home (over eight years ago now) I wanted a cat. A ginger cat. Don't ask me why ginger, but it seemed important at the time. One thing I learned pretty quickly is that when kittens grow into cats, they are much less fun. And this cat of mine (we'll call him G) shed a lot of hair. So G became an outside cat.

One time, G got sick. Really sick. I took him off to the vet and they put a drip in his leg. It turned out he had a kidney infection and the bugger cost me over $500. I had to feed him special food and everything. But he recovered and that's good.

G had been missing the past few days. Our neighbour was concerned too. He showed up today, missing a large chunk of skin from his leg and a few teeth marks in his head. I think a neighbourhood dog got a few good bites into him. So now he's hobbling around. The good thing about cats is that they clean themselves very thoroughly, so his would is very clean. It looks like it's about a week old - the skin has already started to grow back. No sign of infection or anything. He's a resiliant little critter. Good onya G! Perhaps the dog who took a bite is actually worse off!

New blog, dammit!

My first blog, "may i be excused please, my brain is full" went AWOL. Well, not the blog, rather my google account. I changed my email and this worked OK, but it sent an email to confirm this to my old email address. Thinking this was related to her blog, my wife cancelled it and my account was disabled. Looking at the help on google, you're supposed to be able to get this fixed but another person posted seemingly having done the same thing with no success. So I thought I'd cut my losses and start a new blog. I won't cut and paste all the old posts to here but I'll leave the link to the old one just in case.

bugger