Sunday, May 20, 2007
THE LITTLE THINGS IN LIFE.......
Funny things happened on Friday.
On the way to my physio I popped into a shop to grab a quick bite to eat and was promptly joined for breakfast by a wee sparrow.
It appeared quite relaxed and was more than happy to sit quietly and munch on the little bits of bread I would put on the table for it.
It wasn't really big on conversation, but I didn't mind.
Its company would be preferable to some people I've had the misfortune to meet in the past.
I had finished my rehab and caught the tram to my inaugural session with the psychologist, when I came across this girl juggling on the tram.
There she was, unidentifiable music piped into her ears by some earphones, constantly juggling, juggling, juggling.
Why? I really don't know to tell the truth, but It kept me entertained for a while.
Like the sparrow, she wasn't big on conversation either.
Having arrived in Carlton I made my way to the psychologist's office and for some reason became 'geographically challenged' when I realised that the street number I'd found was actually a house and not a doctor's office.
I looked around for the nearest person to ask for directions and spotted a bloke around my age walking towards me with a middle aged woman.
As I started talking to him I realised it was Chris Cester, the singer form the band Jet.
He wasn't very helpful, but the lady with him knew exactly where I wanted to go and pointed me in the right direction.
Eventually I made my way to the doctor and had my very first session.
I'm not exactly sure what I really want out of it and have no idea where it's heading, but I reckon there's no harm in trying it.
Had a quick catch up over lunch with my best mate Lumpy and his missus Rachel on Saturday and when I left the East Brunswick Hotel I spotted Dave Graney bringing in some music gear to set up for that night's gig.
I gave him a hand and held the doors open when the marimba was brought in.
I must admit that between Jet's blatant rehashing of old classic sounds and Dave Graney's smooth yet dynamic composition and performance style, my choice is definitely the latter.
From there I made my way to 'the place that sells bad beer' for farewell drinks with Steve and Amy.
They're off to North Queensland, Townsville to be specific, on Tuesday and there was a lot of laughter along with some tears.
I'm hoping to drive up that way sometime in the near future, maybe next summer, to visit them and others who are sprawled all the way up the east coast of this huge piece of dirt.
Thankfully, the beer had markedly improved and I was pleasantly surprised by the vision of bubbles in my amber liquid.
The publican had confided in me that the band booker was getting the sack for booking crap bands, that should put a stop to such abhorrent aural experiences like the one a week ago.
There were also some tears form one of the housemates of the friend in the psych. ward.
It was the first time I had spoken to someone who had witnessed the events first hand and it enabled me to gain a better understanding of the circumstances involved.
I went to the hospital today not really knowing what to expect.
My suspicion that visits were not allowed was quickly proved to be incorrect, however my mate had for whatever reason, chosen not to take visitors.
I wrote a card and due to my intimate knowledge of cuisine d'hôpital left some mandarins, bananas, a punnet of strawberries and some rum & raisin dark chocolate.
It has to help a little.
.
On the way to my physio I popped into a shop to grab a quick bite to eat and was promptly joined for breakfast by a wee sparrow.
It appeared quite relaxed and was more than happy to sit quietly and munch on the little bits of bread I would put on the table for it.
It wasn't really big on conversation, but I didn't mind.
Its company would be preferable to some people I've had the misfortune to meet in the past.
I had finished my rehab and caught the tram to my inaugural session with the psychologist, when I came across this girl juggling on the tram.
There she was, unidentifiable music piped into her ears by some earphones, constantly juggling, juggling, juggling.
Why? I really don't know to tell the truth, but It kept me entertained for a while.
Like the sparrow, she wasn't big on conversation either.
Having arrived in Carlton I made my way to the psychologist's office and for some reason became 'geographically challenged' when I realised that the street number I'd found was actually a house and not a doctor's office.
I looked around for the nearest person to ask for directions and spotted a bloke around my age walking towards me with a middle aged woman.
As I started talking to him I realised it was Chris Cester, the singer form the band Jet.
He wasn't very helpful, but the lady with him knew exactly where I wanted to go and pointed me in the right direction.
Eventually I made my way to the doctor and had my very first session.
I'm not exactly sure what I really want out of it and have no idea where it's heading, but I reckon there's no harm in trying it.
Had a quick catch up over lunch with my best mate Lumpy and his missus Rachel on Saturday and when I left the East Brunswick Hotel I spotted Dave Graney bringing in some music gear to set up for that night's gig.
I gave him a hand and held the doors open when the marimba was brought in.
I must admit that between Jet's blatant rehashing of old classic sounds and Dave Graney's smooth yet dynamic composition and performance style, my choice is definitely the latter.
From there I made my way to 'the place that sells bad beer' for farewell drinks with Steve and Amy.
They're off to North Queensland, Townsville to be specific, on Tuesday and there was a lot of laughter along with some tears.
I'm hoping to drive up that way sometime in the near future, maybe next summer, to visit them and others who are sprawled all the way up the east coast of this huge piece of dirt.
Thankfully, the beer had markedly improved and I was pleasantly surprised by the vision of bubbles in my amber liquid.
The publican had confided in me that the band booker was getting the sack for booking crap bands, that should put a stop to such abhorrent aural experiences like the one a week ago.
There were also some tears form one of the housemates of the friend in the psych. ward.
It was the first time I had spoken to someone who had witnessed the events first hand and it enabled me to gain a better understanding of the circumstances involved.
I went to the hospital today not really knowing what to expect.
My suspicion that visits were not allowed was quickly proved to be incorrect, however my mate had for whatever reason, chosen not to take visitors.
I wrote a card and due to my intimate knowledge of cuisine d'hôpital left some mandarins, bananas, a punnet of strawberries and some rum & raisin dark chocolate.
It has to help a little.
.
