Tuesday, August 15, 2006
MOULDY BOOTS, SMELL OF BLOOD, BEAUTIFUL BLOSSOMS AND COUNTRY ROCK......OH, AND BEER
Hello.
Who are you?
No, I mean, who are you really?
Ever asked yourself that question?
Ever answered it?
Honestly?
Are you the sum of your possessions, achievements, experiences?
Or are you the sum of your qualities and flaws?
Are you the principles you live by?
Are you simply some ethereal customised model of a base unit?
Or are you a genuinely unique and individual being?
Are you spiritual or religious or non believer or atheist?
Do you believe that we come from dust and to dust we return? I find this one suits both the religious and the non religious amongst us as that's one thing they both seem to agree on.
Whatever the answer or conclusion, have you ever come to a satisfactory answer?
I'll leave you with that one for a while, shall I?
On a less contemplative and meaningful note let me fill you in on the last few days in the exciting daytime soap opera that is The Bold And The Zuba, Days Of Our Zuba or Zuba's Landing.
Take your pick :)
I think I like the last one myself.
Friday night Rino, Mum, Alicja and I went to see a movie.
I can't actually remember the last time I went to the picture theatre, and that scares me.
We saw Kenny and it rocked!!!
It's a great Aussie mockumentary about a bloke who works for a corporate toilet rental company and the abuse he cops from punters, clients, his ex wife, brother and father.
And yet he retains a certain dignity and pride, which eventually pays off.
Rino and I saw the test screening of it back in my former life and it was even better now that it's finished and polished up.
It has absolutely genius comedy moments and one of the best endings ever, which put you in real danger of irrigating the theatre seats.
The owner of the real company is a bloke who used to have coffee and breakfast in the same café as us, before we all embarked on our daily employment duties.
Highly recommend it to everyone!
Saturday ended up going to Geoff Cerni's birthday party.
Geoff was on the Australia Day ride to Jindabyne with us ( see January and February in Archives ) and came down to Tassie with Gino and I about a year or so ago.
He still reckons the Tassie trip was one of the most enjoyable trips he'd been on and I can see what he means.
We spent about 10 tens days enjoying the roads, scenery, tourist attractions and my mates' Scotty, Wolfy, Kim and Trent's hospitality.
Camping out generally in beautiful and sparsly populated spots, with fire cooked meals and Cascade beer is a really nice thing, eh?
I managed to keep myself nice and only had a few drinks of Cascade Red, which my dad had dropped off to me earlier that day along with some beautiful Tasmania abalone.
mmmmmmmmm....... YUMMO!
An interesting sort of party from my point of view as among the guests were some rehab. veterans, both of whom I'd met previously.
One from a car smash and the other a motorcycle rider.
One of them is a policeman, who since then sees the whole recovery in front of the people he extracts from cars or scrapes off the roads.
The rider was asking about the staff here in the Epworth and whether they're still there.
We swapped stories and opinions about the nurses and the general Epworth experience.
It was very much a case of exchanging looks and anecdotes, only those who had experienced would understand or appreciate.
All the pain and suffering stares back at you through their knowing eyes.
Like looking into a mirror and feeling the now familiar variety of physical pains, aches, pangs and soreness knocking on your body, inseparably bound to the emotional hammer striking at the armour of your character.
Repeated blows testing, probing for points of weakness, relentless in their frequency and irregularity.
Constantly offering the temptation of the easy way out, the surrender, the giving up of hope and determination.
Experiencing life through this emotional kaleidoscope and trying to see a clear path towards the end point is not easy.
But the other thing you see staring back at you is the dedication, resilience, dignity and courage it took for them to get through their recovery and how much these qualities had grown during that time.
And probably the biggest and most important one is empathy.
This quality is heightened during the recovery process and aids in attaining a better understanding of other people and their circumstances, lives and tribulations both in the hospital and outside environments.
Recommend taking one dose, daily.
If empathic pain persists, then you're on the right track.
Sheesh! I'll stop banging on like a mad person about this crap as for you, it probably holds about as much appeal as finding yourself in the toilet of a truck stop roadhouse and discovering the lack of paper AFTER having made your deposit, then remembering that you have your favourite monogrammed handkerchief, which your deceased grandmother embroidered for you especially, in your pocket.
Many thanks must go to Robin for her wonderful non hospital food, it was delish!!
And so, a good night was had by all....
Happy Birthday Geoff!
Mick, John Lennon, Jimmy from Clinkerfield and Kermit the Frog.
All the photos taken that weekend were done in 'bulb' mode, meaning you estimate how long the shutter should be open for and hold down the button appropriately.
I also had a bit of a play with Photoshop to get some interesting effects.
Don't know what I'd do without my camera now!
.
Who are you?
No, I mean, who are you really?
Ever asked yourself that question?
Ever answered it?
Honestly?
Are you the sum of your possessions, achievements, experiences?
Or are you the sum of your qualities and flaws?
Are you the principles you live by?
Are you simply some ethereal customised model of a base unit?
Or are you a genuinely unique and individual being?
Are you spiritual or religious or non believer or atheist?
Do you believe that we come from dust and to dust we return? I find this one suits both the religious and the non religious amongst us as that's one thing they both seem to agree on.
Whatever the answer or conclusion, have you ever come to a satisfactory answer?
I'll leave you with that one for a while, shall I?
On a less contemplative and meaningful note let me fill you in on the last few days in the exciting daytime soap opera that is The Bold And The Zuba, Days Of Our Zuba or Zuba's Landing.
Take your pick :)
I think I like the last one myself.
Friday night Rino, Mum, Alicja and I went to see a movie.
I can't actually remember the last time I went to the picture theatre, and that scares me.
We saw Kenny and it rocked!!!
It's a great Aussie mockumentary about a bloke who works for a corporate toilet rental company and the abuse he cops from punters, clients, his ex wife, brother and father.
And yet he retains a certain dignity and pride, which eventually pays off.
Rino and I saw the test screening of it back in my former life and it was even better now that it's finished and polished up.
It has absolutely genius comedy moments and one of the best endings ever, which put you in real danger of irrigating the theatre seats.
The owner of the real company is a bloke who used to have coffee and breakfast in the same café as us, before we all embarked on our daily employment duties.
Highly recommend it to everyone!
Saturday ended up going to Geoff Cerni's birthday party.
Geoff was on the Australia Day ride to Jindabyne with us ( see January and February in Archives ) and came down to Tassie with Gino and I about a year or so ago.
He still reckons the Tassie trip was one of the most enjoyable trips he'd been on and I can see what he means.
We spent about 10 tens days enjoying the roads, scenery, tourist attractions and my mates' Scotty, Wolfy, Kim and Trent's hospitality.
Camping out generally in beautiful and sparsly populated spots, with fire cooked meals and Cascade beer is a really nice thing, eh?
I managed to keep myself nice and only had a few drinks of Cascade Red, which my dad had dropped off to me earlier that day along with some beautiful Tasmania abalone.
mmmmmmmmm....... YUMMO!
An interesting sort of party from my point of view as among the guests were some rehab. veterans, both of whom I'd met previously.
One from a car smash and the other a motorcycle rider.
One of them is a policeman, who since then sees the whole recovery in front of the people he extracts from cars or scrapes off the roads.
The rider was asking about the staff here in the Epworth and whether they're still there.
We swapped stories and opinions about the nurses and the general Epworth experience.
It was very much a case of exchanging looks and anecdotes, only those who had experienced would understand or appreciate.
All the pain and suffering stares back at you through their knowing eyes.
Like looking into a mirror and feeling the now familiar variety of physical pains, aches, pangs and soreness knocking on your body, inseparably bound to the emotional hammer striking at the armour of your character.
Repeated blows testing, probing for points of weakness, relentless in their frequency and irregularity.
Constantly offering the temptation of the easy way out, the surrender, the giving up of hope and determination.
Experiencing life through this emotional kaleidoscope and trying to see a clear path towards the end point is not easy.
But the other thing you see staring back at you is the dedication, resilience, dignity and courage it took for them to get through their recovery and how much these qualities had grown during that time.
And probably the biggest and most important one is empathy.
This quality is heightened during the recovery process and aids in attaining a better understanding of other people and their circumstances, lives and tribulations both in the hospital and outside environments.
Recommend taking one dose, daily.
If empathic pain persists, then you're on the right track.
Sheesh! I'll stop banging on like a mad person about this crap as for you, it probably holds about as much appeal as finding yourself in the toilet of a truck stop roadhouse and discovering the lack of paper AFTER having made your deposit, then remembering that you have your favourite monogrammed handkerchief, which your deceased grandmother embroidered for you especially, in your pocket.
Many thanks must go to Robin for her wonderful non hospital food, it was delish!!
And so, a good night was had by all....
Happy Birthday Geoff!
I must admit I really enjoyed the sleep and the sleep in on Sunday.
It probably made up for all the lack of sleep in the hospital for the last week.
I did have a few surprises though.
Pottering around the shed I spent some time checking out the remains of the gear I was wearing on the day of the smash.
The cracks and grazes on the helmet once more reminding me of the cuddle I received from that damned cybernetic potato salad on steroids.
The t-shirt sliced straight up the centre, as was the cotton top.
I could see and still smell the blood on the sleeve.
The boots, which had sustained serious structural, not to mention aesthetic failure.
And rummaging through one of the garbage bags I spotted my socks.
I'd completely forgotten about these.
A pair of red Explorers only worn a couple of times, with no blood on them and surprisingly, in one piece!
They didn't smell bad either, I guess I'd only had them on for a couple of hours before they were removed by the paramedics.
Now I'm not sure if I should wear them again, are they unlucky because I crashed in them?
Or are they lucky because I survived?
No idea.
Surprise number two.
Due to some bathroom plumbing playing up, one corner in my room had developed some rising damp.
Whilst Princess Strawberry was staying there, she'd put some boots like the Brutes and the furry cow hide cowboy boots in the corner along with my old helmet.
Sitting there for a month or two, they had taken on a new furry texture, inside and out.
Yep, some mould had made itself right at home and after establishing a fast tracked breeding program, had a thriving colony going.
I imagined all the little mould mums saying goodbye to the their little mould kids as they go off to mould school on the chin strap of the helmet.
And the mould husbands commuting to their places of employment somewhere in my steel capped boots.
The young mould lovers, romantically embracing in the fields of cow hide of the cowboy boots.
I've no idea if they are salvageable but I left them in a dry corner and will check them next time I see them.
Who knows, maybe there's some anti mould product I can use on them.
I know it will mean a sort of bacterial genocide, but hey, they didn't exactly ask for permission or receive an invitation did they?
Time to open up a can of Zyklon Bacteria on their collective microscopic arses!
Must do some research to see if there's an appropriate product out there!
About 5p.m. I went to the Standard Hotel in Fitzroy to check out a band called Clinkerfield.
I first met these blokes a couple years ago when they played at the Green Room with our band.
They play a sort of country rock with usually a fair bit of whooping and hollering and always put on a good show.
I managed to get myself, the wheelchair, crutches and backpack to the bar, which was a fair old effort considering the amount of people in there
I found that if I stashed my crutches in the chair just so, I could use them as a sort of bullbar.
After folding and parking the chair I received my next surprise.
Mick Dabbs had turned up with a pretty young thing called Pauline, who apparently is a nurse with an interest in photography.
I found out that she went to high school with Bones' partner, Agatha.
What a tiny world it is, eh?
Unfortunately, this pleasant little blossom was about to start a stint in Alice Springs.
So the three of us spent some time talking, listening to the music and having a few drinks.
A very nice way to cap off the weekend.
It probably made up for all the lack of sleep in the hospital for the last week.
I did have a few surprises though.
Pottering around the shed I spent some time checking out the remains of the gear I was wearing on the day of the smash.
The cracks and grazes on the helmet once more reminding me of the cuddle I received from that damned cybernetic potato salad on steroids.
The t-shirt sliced straight up the centre, as was the cotton top.
I could see and still smell the blood on the sleeve.
The boots, which had sustained serious structural, not to mention aesthetic failure.
And rummaging through one of the garbage bags I spotted my socks.
I'd completely forgotten about these.
A pair of red Explorers only worn a couple of times, with no blood on them and surprisingly, in one piece!
They didn't smell bad either, I guess I'd only had them on for a couple of hours before they were removed by the paramedics.
Now I'm not sure if I should wear them again, are they unlucky because I crashed in them?
Or are they lucky because I survived?
No idea.
Surprise number two.
Due to some bathroom plumbing playing up, one corner in my room had developed some rising damp.
Whilst Princess Strawberry was staying there, she'd put some boots like the Brutes and the furry cow hide cowboy boots in the corner along with my old helmet.
Sitting there for a month or two, they had taken on a new furry texture, inside and out.
Yep, some mould had made itself right at home and after establishing a fast tracked breeding program, had a thriving colony going.
I imagined all the little mould mums saying goodbye to the their little mould kids as they go off to mould school on the chin strap of the helmet.
And the mould husbands commuting to their places of employment somewhere in my steel capped boots.
The young mould lovers, romantically embracing in the fields of cow hide of the cowboy boots.
I've no idea if they are salvageable but I left them in a dry corner and will check them next time I see them.
Who knows, maybe there's some anti mould product I can use on them.
I know it will mean a sort of bacterial genocide, but hey, they didn't exactly ask for permission or receive an invitation did they?
Time to open up a can of Zyklon Bacteria on their collective microscopic arses!
Must do some research to see if there's an appropriate product out there!
About 5p.m. I went to the Standard Hotel in Fitzroy to check out a band called Clinkerfield.
I first met these blokes a couple years ago when they played at the Green Room with our band.
They play a sort of country rock with usually a fair bit of whooping and hollering and always put on a good show.
I managed to get myself, the wheelchair, crutches and backpack to the bar, which was a fair old effort considering the amount of people in there
I found that if I stashed my crutches in the chair just so, I could use them as a sort of bullbar.
After folding and parking the chair I received my next surprise.
Mick Dabbs had turned up with a pretty young thing called Pauline, who apparently is a nurse with an interest in photography.
I found out that she went to high school with Bones' partner, Agatha.
What a tiny world it is, eh?
Unfortunately, this pleasant little blossom was about to start a stint in Alice Springs.
So the three of us spent some time talking, listening to the music and having a few drinks.
A very nice way to cap off the weekend.
Mick and the blossom.
Mick, John Lennon, Jimmy from Clinkerfield and Kermit the Frog.
All the photos taken that weekend were done in 'bulb' mode, meaning you estimate how long the shutter should be open for and hold down the button appropriately.
I also had a bit of a play with Photoshop to get some interesting effects.
Don't know what I'd do without my camera now!
.
