Friday, April 07, 2006

Thinking is dangerous

Without the distractions of the internet, radio, tv, newspapers, books and people, there is a real danger that when I am in the shower, I might start thinking.

Surely this would lead to a seriously depressive state and so cannot be allowed. If I feel some thoughts approaching any more than when the shower next needs cleaning and will I use bleach or not, I quickly distract myself with something like this. In the shower, no one can hear you sing.

It requires a bit of thought to recall and gauranteed to push away any 'thoughts'. It is my version as I remember it, and I don't vouch for the historical accuracy of the words.

There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza.
There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, a hole.

Well fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
Well fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it.

With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, dear Liza.
With what shall I fix it, dear Liza, with what?

With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry
With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, with straw.

But the straw is too long, dear Liza, dear Liza.
But the straw is too long, dear Liza, too long.

Well cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
Well cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, cut it.

With what should I cut it, dear Liza, dear Liza.
With what should I cut it, dear Liza, with what?

With an axe, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
With an axe, dear Henry, dear Henry, with an axe.

But the axe is too blunt, dear Liza, dear Liza.
But the axe is too blunt, dear Liza, too blunt.

Well sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
Well sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, sharpen it.

With what can I sharpen it, dear Liza, dear Liza.
With what can I sharpen it, dear Liza, with what?

With the stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
With the stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, with the stone.

But the stone is too dry, dear Liza, dear Liza.
But the stone is too dry, dear Liza, too dry.

Well wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
Well wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, wet it.

With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza.
With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, with what?

With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, with water.

With what shall I fetch it, dear Liza, dear Liza.
With what shall I fetch it, dear Liza, with what?

With a bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry.
With a bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, with a bucket.

But there's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza.
But there's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, A HOLE.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Before the chip



As a child, I had nothing electronic to amuse me, except for perhaps my transistor radio in early teens. It was only AM frequency, but it was equal in receiving power to anything you would buy today. But before that, there were a couple of things that left me wondering at the marvels of invention. I guess the kaleidoscope has been around for many many years but I was truly impressed.

Lego and Mechano were good. Tonka toys were good. Not sure if they are still around but there is an online museum. Metal, strong and indestructible to all but rust. Vale my Tonka Holden EJ ute.

I had a rocking horse when very young. Used to slam it against it's limits in either direction. It was very nice and if kept, I think it would be worth a lot of money now.

Pogo stick. No, it was not a single springy stick that you bounced on, it was a platform with four springs under. I really can't remember how it worked.

A wired intercom set for my brother and I to communicate when in the same room. Sort of like email in the office nowadays. Later superseded by a a telephone set, but still wired together. Even earlier, there was a morse code set.

My brother and I had a Scalextric? racing car set with tracks and four cars. A most unreliable piece of equipment that never worked well. Eventually when the whole system failed, the 9V transformer was put to use powering my 6V transistor radio, for a very short time. Vale transistor radio.

I suppose we were still quite young when we were given an air rifle, a slug gun. I was wrong to shoot frogs in the dam. Bad karma. Probably wrong to shoot at my brother and miss and shoot a hole in my bedroom window. Giving us a slug gun was my father's idea, like your mother would? What was he on?

Ten pin bowling set, good. Football, never kicked it but spent plenty of time cleaning and nuggeting it. Table tennis lasted a while. As did the aluminium framed 4 foot pool.

But the most amazing to me was the Etcha Sketch. What wonderment. Sadly there was no right click, save image as. My masterpieces disappeared like sands through an hour glass. So were the days of my childhood life.

Turned like a mongrel dog

I knew it was coming. I was having to reduce the cold water a little before getting into the shower. In warmer months, I can just turn both taps on and the temperature is fine, although if weather is hot, I sometimes have to reduce the hot.

I don't consider winter arrives until we have a week of below twenty degree daytime temperatures, so it won't be this week. But the weather has changed.

Last night was a twice yearly event. I picked up the remote for the air-con and looked at it with puzzlement. It was set to cool and I wanted some warmth. We may not have needed heating last night if I hadn't had the windows open all day but too bad.

After many years I can now remember that the sun symbol does not mean it is hot and you need some cooling. It means you want warmth, like that of the sun. So far so good.

The cooling temperature was set to 24 degrees and usually stays on that, maybe 23 or 22 if we come in and we are hot. But what should the heating temperature be? 22 came to mind. Isn't that what people set their heating thermostats to? Ours was set to 18. 18 sounds cold. I can never remember year to year what the setting should be. I will try 18 and I can always turn it up.

Switch on, nothing. Must not be cold enough to come on. Ah, no. That's right, the fan doesn't come on until the unit has warmed up. Here it comes. Warm air. It filled the living area. It filtered through to the bedrooms. In no time the whole apartment was warm and cozy.

I do miss the burning dust smell that used to happen once a year when we turned on the gas wall furnaces that we have had in other places.

The next marker will be the day R picks up the remote and turns the heating up and I will later turn it down again or at least complain that it is too hot.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

West Papua

It was the early eighties when I joined the campaign to lobby for the rights of East Timorese. Yes, I was a terrorist supporter, the terrorists being Fretelin who were fighting against the Indonesian army.

I did not blow anything up, nor mail white powder to anyone. I did attend a rally and I wrote lots of letters, BY HAND. Although I was passionate, I was also niave. But I was also reasonable.

Someone must have noticed me as I was invited to a private meeting somewhere now forgotten in the city. Oddly, this letter came from someone who lived in East Malvern less than a kilometre away from me. This would have been shortly after Malcolm Fraser was re-elected for the last time. I left the issue behind after that. I did not attend the meeting nor acknowledge receipt of the letter. Any authorative person would have made mince meat of me in any sort of personal encounter.

But I never stopped fuming over the injustice.

Is it all starting again in West Papua? They voted in a shonky referendum to join Indonesia when the Dutch bolted. BHP exploited them and their enviroment via the Indonesian government but with Australia's complicity. That task has now been handed on to Canada. They are being flooded with immigrants from Java.

Please somone, don't let East Timor repeat itself in West Papua. Australia needs to use all of it's diplomatic skills. Perhapas, just perhaps, Indonesia is a bit smarter now too.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

The weirdness, what people are searching for

I was reminded to check my blog stats after reading Andy's semi regular stats post. Unlike Andy, I guess I know why no one comes to my blog when they type labia into their search engine. Maybe they will now, labia, labia, labia. Big labia, torn labia, enlarged labia, no labia.

Cyclist's bulges got a good run M!key.

Is Elesternwick nice? I think it is pretty ok.

Les Gock nude? Sorry can't oblige. While I would have killed to see that when both he and I were young, after seeing him the other night on tv, nah, no longer interested. I have got bare top pics of him in very tight revealing satin pants when he was young if that interests you?

Luvey, if you want to learn how drive, you better ask for road code booklet, not a road coad booklet. Ever thought about remedial English before setting out on our roads?

I think I have at least two gay readers. Were one of you looking for the explicit Head On stills of Alex Dimitriadis? I might publish them in the future.

Sorry, but I cannot help you with your search for Dry Duck Exterior Coat Melbourne.

Most puzzling award goes to three hits for Chris Oxenbould. It took me some to work out who he is and why anyone would come to my blog with that search, but I did work it out.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Over and done

Noooooo, not me.

The Commonwealth Games has finished, the Grand Prix is over, people are talking about boring old aussie rules, the day is grey with showers threatening, kids are at school, the freeways are congested, public transport is running late and the fake Yarra fish have been washed away.

Melbourne is back to normal. I love it.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Fire Trucks

Why does the fire brigade feel the need to over react to minor matters. Too many times I have seen three fire trucks with lights flashing and siren blasting arrive to put out a fire in a rubbish bin. I understand that they must err on the side of caution, but really, they do go overboard. They cause disruption to traffic, public transport and it just looks darn silly.

I am reminded of the time when we had a false alarm in our building. Only a few people took it seriously and they arrived on the ground floor in the lift, a no no if there really is a fire. I just went down to investigate as I was then a body corporate committee member and blame for a false alarm needs to pinpointed in case the body corporate is charged.

I chatted to some fellow residents for a bit and then decided to go back to my apartment. No, said the fireman, you cannot go up. I argued, but he stood in front of the lift.

I started to walk away. He then asked where I was going, and I said to my car. I will go out.

I went into the stairwell, walked up one flight and caught the lift from the first floor to my apartment. It had already been established that is was a false alarm. He was just being bloody minded. If he really thought is was serious, he should have been rescuing the other residents who did not come down to the foyer.