whoo hoo ..

Just in case readers may persist in the perception that am an "ancient old fogey".

Um, probably am ... have been searching hundreds of "recent" photo files and can't find the one of me that proves am me in a motorcycle helmet.

Ah - can i 'prove' anything with some words, and a 'photo' - of course not.

My "history" belongs the "staging" of something that belongs to the ancient concept -
the willing suspension of dis-belief. Think about it.

Aha - found it

Meh.

Also have a recent pic of three old fogeys ...

um, well, one is behind the camera ... heh.
(and no, the white truck isn't mine. The scrubby old Jackaroo 'bushbasher' is off to the left, behind, as always).
And yep, there's a sort of hidden 'joke' in this pic. If we find a "difficult" track - the bloke in the blue cap always sends me first - because he doesn't want to get his nice new 4WD 'scratched' ... heh.

reverting to childhood

http://www.hobbyking.com/hobbyking/store/uh_viewitem.asp?idproduct=24336

Am very close to parting with barely sufficient finance.
Why?
Just because i can.

..
..
.
.
 [oh, bye the way ... copy 'n' paste from an email ...

Hi Rob, just a note while i have the satellite turned on. My little body has  been taking a bit of 'damage' recently, and probably will over the next couple of months.

HOWEVER - nothing very serious. Had just managed to repair self after the tumble off the horse when i receive notification that am 'booked in' for the inguinal hernia repair that had been waiting roughly 12 months for.  Not that the hernia ever really bothered me (except when i coughed or sneezed .. heh).  Knew that was booked in on Friday 25th Jan (with o/night stay), but not the time.

Had arranged with Larry to drive me into Lithgow and pick me up the following day - but had no idea what time i was supposed to arrive until 7pm the Thursday night - phone call "we want you here at 7 AM" !!!.  Bloody 'ell. Managed to contact Larry, but he couldn't make it, so drove self in.  Op apparently went well - was on the table at about 7.30am ... woke up in the ward at about 9am. Felt a bit woozy, had a squizz, saw a tinsy little 3 inch bandage; and wondered whether the nurses had fun fiddling with my wiggly bit when they shaved me (bugga, untouched by female - or other - hand, since 2009. Wish i'd been awake fer that ...  heh.


Not a lot of pain, so spent the rest of Friday being extremely bored - even though there were 2 other blokes in the 4 bed ward. Could get out of bed by about midday, but couldn't travel very far as was attached to this blasted pole and saline drip - until i figured out how to disconnect it from the wall plug without setting off the 'alarm'.  Wandered around a bit then found a Readers Digest condensed in the waiting room, so dozed and read for the rest of the day. Almost began to enjoy it .. lots of nice young females wandering about, meals (which weren't that bad) delivered to the bed - except that the bed wasn't all that comfy.  Was rarin' to go first thing next morning. Rang Larry at about 9am - yer, i know, wasn't allowed to drive ... buuut, didn't know what to do with my car ... soo, while no-one was looking, drove home (with Larry following along behind in case something went wrong).

Five days later i had to turn up at the Dental Clinic to have some teeth out on Weds 30th. Never rains but it pours (actually! - 150mm on Sunday 27 and Monday 28) .. but no floods up this way. 'Twas most welcome, as was getting down to quarter tank. Dental clinic not before time ... have been waiting three years. The plan is to have a couple out every two weeks or so, then a month wait until i can get a set of bright shiny 'movie star' ones (well, that's the hope, anyway).

Lovely lady at the Clinic - didn't feel a thing. All done and dusted in 20 minutes. Ached a bit when the anaesthetic wore off later that day, but didn't need a Panadol. So ALL'S WELL!!

Cheers,
David

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Next ..

Seven States, independently administered - in Australia - and a couple of "Territories".

"Overseen"  by a National Parliament.

For those overseas wondering how  the "Australian" political system works, successfully (so far) ... hang about, explore.

In the defense of Julian Assange.

(Updated 15 Dec 2010 - found some links .. heh. Will "post to other" when have a bit more info)


[still under edit:was written "offline"; still trying to find the reference links; might be me who's getting confused, but did 'save' a whole heap of   "reference links". Gruogle "Krum" don't make it easy. Might revisit Firefox.  ]

For a start; am not a lawyer, nor involved with any “law enforcement” agencies, official or otherwise. Am just an ordinary citizen of Australia (Rtr'd).

All this 'internet' furoré has me fascinated, so was wondering if there was some factual basis. All of the following is opinion.

I see where some politicians are calling for the “arrest” of Julian Assange (fair enough – means 'to bring to a standstill' or 'stop' (from the Old French; arester or Latin; restãre – to stand still). Can quite understand their embarrassment. Being caught with yer pants down does tend to invoke some anger generated by surprise. However, Julian has been very careful to distance himself and the organisation known as “WikiLeaks” from any link, collusion with, or knowledge of who actually happened to “break the law” (according to their own, individual, conscience or motive). “assassination” is quite a different concept, mostly confined to “primitive”, “uneducated” Nations.

There are, actually, quite a few “laws” in many countries around this planet relating to 'confidentiality', 'loyalty' and 'submission'. Most of the 'enlightened' systems of governance rely on individuals 'signing a contract'. Won't go into detail, but the “Spycatcher” case some time ago illustrates the general principal of what am alluding to.

Will also remind readers to read the detail of any TOS - “terms of service” that internet host providers supply. You'd be surprised at how vague some of the clauses are.

As far as I can gather; Julian Assange – by publishing information given to him - has broken no specific law. He is, yes, “Editor in Chief” of WikiLeaks. If, in fact, he IS guilty of “publishing information” given to him in secret - then I would suggest that EVERY “Editor in Chief” of EVERY print, radio, video transmission, media on this planet is, essentially, guilty.

The list, and details, of these sort of practices is far too long for me to summarise here; but am sure you will know what I mean. (Remember “Deep Throat”; Woodward and Bernstein)

As a side-track; Am very disappointed by Julia Gillard and our own Attorney General. Ask Assange to “cease and desist”, perhaps; call for his “arrest”, perhaps. But shouting to the rooftops that what he has done is “illegal” - letting him know that you are just acutely embarrassed, uninformed; is not the mature stance, or response, that I would expect of an Australian National Leadership.

So, let me look at the “legalities” of what happened in Sweden in August, and subsequent.

Timeline1

So, who knows. Am very suspicious about the “timing” -

And it IS tempting to “invent” some dialogues. [Disclaimer – not fact, “rape” is objectively difficult to define. This is a short summary based on 50 years of interaction between me and various human European origin females; and what have been able to discover from the internet.]

Female 1:(very happy, wanting to share) “'alloo, S here, you know Julian?'

Female 2:“Ya”

Female 1:“We have beautiful night”

2: “Oh?”'

1: “ya, he is so beautiful”

2: “you have sex with him?”

1: “Ya, he very strong”.

Long pause …....

Yes, can imagine the sort of thing that happens next. Information sharing. 'Me also. What, no condom?” “No”. “Have you?”, “No”, “Oh shit, has he ....?” “No idea”. Ring the bastard! Ask him````````````````````````````. No contact, where is he?, report to police, find him, ask him.

The whole Swedish situation seems to have gone a bit pearshaped from there.

A poem

Was actually going to write a much longer post about ANZAC day and what it means - to me, anyway - but it's been wet and overcast for the past few days, and the little generator is having canniptions - so battery power is quite low.

.. and yes, I did make it to the local dawn service at 6am last Sunday .. a very small gathering, the rain actually briefly ceased for it as well .. will try to write more about it later. My father never came back to give me much instruction as to how I should behave in these situations.

In the meantime, will publish this poem- author unknown .. but was sent to me by Vest, at Daily gaggle

There is always a longish discussion about "wars" and "armies", and "what ANZAC day means".

Won't go into detail .. but from my point of view .. the disaster at Gallipoli was when Australian and NZ militaries which, until then, were happy to let incompetent "BRITISH" commanders run the show .. began to argue for, and won the right to command their own armies.

Says much

He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the RSL,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew where of he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.

He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife..
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.

He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.

While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It's so easy to forget them,
For it is so many times
That our Bobs and Jims and Johnnys,
Went to battle, but we know,

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?

Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.

He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days..

Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER or a SAILOR DIED TODAY."

(author unknown)

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to 'Australia', 'New Zealand', 'Canada', 'The United States' or any other country for an amount "up to and including my life".

That is Honour, and there are way too many people in this WORLD who no longer understand it.

(edited by an Australian)

Postscript 30 april 2010 - was having a chat with a Vet from the Vietnam conflict about all this .. he tells me that we haven't learnt much, yet. Just transferred 'allegiances' to incompetent AMERICAN commanders .. heh.

There's a girl in my bed

Have fallen in love with a rather beautiful young lady; intelligent, slim-hipped, agile .. and I think the feeling is mutual.

Bittuva dog-face, and she's a real bitch ..

..

.

.

....

.

Her name is Abbey.

(shades of the Beatles, perhaps? Came from the Adelaide Animal Welfare League at Wingfield; last Saturday. They tell me she's 3 yrs old, a "Kelpie X" but methinks more Staffy and Greyhound in there somewhere.)

fishing

OOOps wrong image ..
Dunno where the days have gone, really.
The sun comes up from the middle of a distant, easterly barley-field stubble .. and disappears into the slightly curved, ultramarine horizon, occasionally flecked by distant merry whitecaps on a jocular sea.
I don't DO much, actually. A ramble along the dune-tops, amazed by the stunted, tough, hardy, spindly spiked vegetation who inhabit this area; surviving on dew, seaspray (and the occasional piss). Have dug down a bit to see if I could discover the true source of their sustenance and survival .. but have only discovered sand, drier than a Temperance Union Sunday breakfast.
One of the problems at the moment is a distancing from christian calendars. Had no idea that last weekend incorporated a “holiday” Monday (tho am bemused to note that that “holyday” was for a city horserace – apparently lobbied for and won from the State Gummint some time ago by the the local jockey club because “South Australia had one less public 'holiday'” than the rest of the States (fully supported, of course, by the Labour Unions) .. Oh Well .. heh. At this point of my life – every day is a “holy day”.
I was, however, somewhat premature when I wrote last Thursday about “solitude”.
Anyway, as of last Freya's day afternoon, and Saturn's day morn my “solitude space” was interspersed with 10 or so other tribal groupings – including one tribal group with 3 4X4's, two tents, a camper trailer, 5 trail bikes, two quad bikes who spent most of the next three days raising hell dust around the campsite.
Was up in Moonta a couple of days ago for supplies and casually mentioned it to the bar-person. “Oh yer,” he tells me, “on long weekends we're inundated with city people, so the locals go down the coast to escape.” Mmm, whatever.
Did, however, get to say hello to a bloke who unpacked his camper-trailer about 20 yards in front of the van.
[Curious thing – this area is, to all appearances – “uncontrolled” and yet there is very little litter – what there is I collect. I feel “safe” here, for all its isolation.
The only evidence of “local council” interest is a new sign-post with new concrete footings about 1k up the track proclaiming “Cape Elizabeth Conservation Area. Day use only” .. and an adjacent area on the map that says “Gynburra Narungga Aboriginal Land”. May their Spirits long be present.]
Another thought. What IS “natural” spacing? Everybody here seemed to camp about 22 yards away – the length of a cricket pitch? As far as a normal male can throw a fist sized rock?
All that being as it may – am, for all the “isolation” am untroubled by passers-by or other campers. If I believe myself unobserved, wander the dunes naked.
(the weather for this past week has been superb. Warm enough to wander naked, not hot enough to render a body prostrate or burnt to a crisp. Could I survive here unaided? Interesting question. Funny, really, have just finished reading “Naked under Capricorn” by Olaf (?).)

Settling in

Errrrm, after much travelling around the highways and by-ways, finding connections and interconnections .. have arrived at a spot where I might settle for a while. It's a long story. Had to search around the countryside to find an internet cafe within cooee (30K), but now that am finding where-aboutses and whooseywhatsis's, should be able to post more.

Senses

We have, or so am led to believe - six senses.

Sight, hearing, smell, touch .. are there more??

Best laid schemes ..

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

(from a Robbie Burns poem)

It was, I naívely thought, going to be relatively simple. Begin with a fixed sum of money .. allocate priorities, assign a budget and time-frame for acquisition to each .. and then, after a few months - become more or less independent again.

The "scheme", some months ago, was to dig up a small "nest-egg" that had been parked, almost forgotten, in an account that had been created some 20 years ago; get the car fixed, buy a caravan and a few "wants", shuck off the tedium of daily grind then set off on further adventures - footloose and fancy free.

Not, it seems, quite so easy these days.

The first priority was to get the motor vehicle to a state where i could be confident that it wouldn't fall apart in the middle of nowhere. There was a leak in the power steering, and the quote had been in the region of $600 to fix. So, some weeks ago, duly booked the "wagon" in for service, dropped it off at 7.30am, thinking mmm, should be somewhere around $1500 budget allocation, and caught the bus into the city for the day. Called into the workshop at 4.30pm on the way home .. to find pretty much the entire front end of the vehicle spread all over the workshop floor. ?? think I. "Whaaa..?", say i, pointing. "Ah," the mechanic replies, "you know that small "knock" you reported was coming from near the front left wheel .." "Yeeesss .. " say i. "Well, the front shock absorber had shattered, and it's a wonder that the front wheel hasn't fallen off already." "Oh", mumble me. "Well," says the mech, "You did say 'fix everything', and get it 'highway ready', you'll have to come back tomorrow".

Duly returned the following day .. to be presented with an operational motor vehicle, and a bill for $2500. Cést la vie.


Similar story with the caravan. Had allocated a maximum $5000 from a very limited budget and spent several weekends searching the internet and driving all over the city looking for one. There is a very large "caravan yard" about 20K away over on the North side of town, with Vans ranging from $1500 to $250,000 (who the hell would spend $250K on a caravan?, I'd rather buy a house). The ones that interested me were in the $3500 - $4500 range, but very old and somewhat tacky, requiring considerable time to "renovate" .. buuut, would have been copable.

Then, on another of my almost endless searches of the internet, noticed one that was just a couple of K away at Dario Caravans in the next suburb .. bit higher priced than intended, but decided to have a quick squizz anyway. Hoo boy. Took one look at the outside, a brief look at the inside and, well .. fell in love with it.

The asking price ($6,950) was somewhat higher than my "budget allocation", buuut, a bittuva discussion, I offered $6,100 and we settled at $6,400.

Have to admit that, for its age (1985), the van is immaculate, and everything that I was looking for. Who needs fancy double beds and gadget filled kitchens? All I needed was a bunk, a stove and lots of storage .. heh.

There was, of course, a small problem - it has electric brakes, necessitating the installation of the Brake controller in the wagon .. price $350, which sort of put the purchase price back up to $6,750 ..

On the other hand, I have enormous praise for Dario Caravans, and Chris in particular. After I'd agreed to purchase and paid the deposit, Chris said "Leave it here for 'after sales' service". Well, one week later, when i went to pick it up, found that -
A. there was a new fire extinguisher,
B. the annexe had been replaced with a brand new one,
C. the gas bottle had been replaced with a new one,
D. the 3 way fridge had been pulled apart and fully reconditioned.

"Errrmmm.." say I, "how much will all THIS cost?"
"No problem", says Chris, "All part of the after sales service".

So, for excellent service regarding ANYTHING to do with caravans AND ACCESSORIES, will thoroughly recommend

DARIO CARAVANS,
Pinn St. St MARYS,
ADELAIDE, SOUTH AUSTRALIA

So far so good - there were a few problems trying to find a place to "park" it ..
had arranged that with one of my customers who had a back gate and spare section of backyard .. buut, she turned out to be a batty old dear who changed her mind the night before I was due to collect the van, so had to frantically ring around some other customers, and eventually found another who had an empty house with an accessible driveway .. and that is where it sits, for the time being, until I can find the time to add some wiring to make it more-or-less "independent" (have a solar panel, deep cycle battery and 600Watt inverter to go into it yet) - then transfer all the belongings that am intending to keep (or as much as will fit .. heh.)

Actually, the unpredicted "calls" on the budget have been considerable, so quite a lot of what I had "dreamed" of, intended to achieve, has been severely curtailed - and the time-frame extended.

[at this stage am thinking that I should have stuck with the "original", more "romantic" - somewhat more "fanciful" - idea of a Clydesdale (or Percheron), a brightly coloured box on four wheels and a trusty Blue Heeler to trot alongside .. but that idea seems to have been lost, somewhere .. the notion of "comfort", and the intertwined tendrils and tentacles of technology seem to be difficult to discard, these days ..perhaps in the "next life" .. heh.]


Have to admit to a certain amount of "fear of the unknown" at the moment, which is odd .. must be getting old. There was a time when would just "forge ahead" and trust to fate, the future, fairies, the gods, my own ingenuity, or whatever - to look after me and keep me from serious disaster ..

Buut, so far everything seems to be working out well ( if somewhat more expensive than hoped for) - so the story continues ..

Sneak preview

I must be mad ..



.. Oh well, a life lived without notice ..)

Weird dreams

I don't normally post stuff like this, but have had a couple of very strange dreams, lately. Don't normally remember them, either, but these have stuck in my mind.

In the first one, last Monday night,

I came home from work, opened the door to a three story house (i live in a one story, non-descript bungalow), and found that my furniture had been trashed, books and belongings strewn all over the floor. The odd thing about it was that all the "good" stuff had been trashed, but some of the crappy Kmart stuff was still intact.

Standing in the middle of the room was a female, youngish, about 19 or 20. She was wearing a t-shirt, but nothing else. Somewhat confused and bemused, i say "Who are you?" "What are you doing here?". She smiled, then came near, rubbing her mons sensuously against my thigh, then put her hand underneath my crotch from behind, began fondling my .. errm. ( and yer, yer, in the dream, there was a reaction).

At that point i heard male voices from upstairs. This is getting ridiculous, think i, pushed her away, went upstairs. Half a dozen young males were sitting around on two dilapidated couches, drinking cans of Jack Daniels. They'd made a small fire in one of my frying-pans, with chips and kindling from one of my chairs. By this stage was getting angry. "What the fuck are you doing here?" say i. "We live here," they reply. "Well fuck off. This is MY fucking house.How did you get in?".

"Errm," said one, "the agent told us that he hadn't seen you for six months, so he re-let the house. We live here now". "Fuck off!!" i shout.
At that they began to laugh, and throw empty cans at me. One hit me on the head ..

At that point I woke up, sweating. (and nah, was sober) Got out of bed, turned on all the lights, checked through the house .. nothing had changed, all was intact. Bit disturbing though.

The second dream, last Thursday night.

Was at a beach. A long, curving, empty beach, no-one else in sight, cloudless blue sky, sun shining and warm. A slight offshore breeze kept the wavelets to small sussurations on the sand.

I took off all my clothes and, naked, lay on my back, arms outstretched; submerged up to my chin in the warm water. It was so beautiful, relaxing, began to doze off. At that point i sensed, rather than saw, some creatures come in from the deep, but wasn't afraid. They surrounded me, and i felt them licking my arms and legs. ( i describe them as sort of a cross between a Dodo and a sea-slug. Dodo beaks, sea-slug bodies.)

I felt their tongues on my arms, on my legs, a warm, gentle feeling .. then, it began to dawn on me that something was wrong. Their saliva was melting my flesh. My hands, forearms, feet and lower legs had gone, I felt immobilised, couldn't stand up. I began to call out .. help, hellp, helllpppp!, but my voice was small, frail, weak, plaintive. I tried and tried to call out, louder, knowing that even if I could shout - there would be no-one to hear. Then, made a massive effort to move and ......

then found myself sitting up in bed with a sore throat.

Have no idea whether i really DID call out in my sleep. Wouldn't have made much difference if I did, there's no-one else here .. except the cat.

Dreams? Nah, more like nightmares.