Author Archives: Ian

Better in the Line of Duty

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I started writing this post a couple of weeks ago and only got to the heading.  I was going to write about the difference between having a job and doing a ‘duty’.

The heading just sat there because I was unable to find the words which I thought were appropriate to explain the difference – especially considering I was going to mainly write about the Police.  The Police, in addition, for some time have been trying to gain status as a ‘profession’ – like lawyers! (Why?)   I do understand that the ‘big Police machine’ is now trying to run like a corporation, there is always a couple of things that I believe have been forgotten.  The Police is a job, a vocation, a career and a duty of SERVICE.  In addition those undertaking this duty of service have all sworn an OATH.  To a lot of people this oath may not seem much, but with it comes an obligation to serve and to do your duty.  I am pretty sure there are not too many jobs where people swear on the Bible, or the Koran or take the affirmation that they will serve and do their duty.  I know when I took the oath it was with my head and my heart.

These are all great words, often thrown about by the ‘Merchants of Misery’ (the Media) which in the end actually lose their meaning; I think Richie Benaud put his cricket commentary career into perspective about what words to use when he said “The Titanic was a tragedy, the Ethiopian drought a disaster, and neither bears any relation to a dropped catch.”

So often words are thrown about; words such a tragedy, hero, sacrifice, etc etc.

Screen Shot 2015-09-29 at 10.14.55So, I was wondering how I was going to explain the word ‘duty’.

Why is it that swearing an ‘oath’ and doing things ‘in the line of duty’ is so special.

Well, on 29th September 2015, the words came to me in a Facebook Post I wrote.  I got up in the morning knowing it was National Police Remembrance Day and was shocked that there was not one mention of it in the media – even today, the day has passed, unnoticed by most.  After I scanned the news I sat down and wrote a few words from my heart and posted it onto Facebook.  In the last 24 hours those few words have been shared and ‘Liked’ numerous times and comments have all been from those showing respect, sympathy, sadness, pride, thanks and unfortunately first hand knowledge.

So, I am sharing them here again, because this is my place, this is where my words often miss the filter of embarrassment, sadness, horror, ego and worrying about what others will think.  I am also sharing these words because I just can’t get them out of my head and that feeling out of my heart:

I sometimes think that my life is a bit hard, I have been treated unfairly or was not given the opportunities I always wanted….

 

I sometimes think that other people have it better than me….

 

I sometimes think about working too hard, paying too many bills, how traffic is shit, food is expensive, holidays seen to short, the news is always bad on TV, the bachelor picked the wrong girl and the lawn needs a mow….

 

I sometimes think about my mates in the Police who will never get to complain about these things again.

 

They will never get to whinge about the footy, have a beer with their mates, hug their wives or husbands and watch their kids grow up.

 

I sometimes think about them; I often think about them when we are talking about the ‘good jobs’, the ‘big jobs’, the ‘funny jobs’ and the stories that can go on all night and get bigger, better and funnier over the years.

 

I sometimes think about them because they died, or were killed or were murdered, doing their job. I sometimes think about the others, the ones that lost the battle with themselves and the things they had seen.

 

I sometimes hunt through old boxes of real photos and hundreds of files of digital photos, just to see their face one more time – in a different time.

 

If I say I sometimes think about them, I perhaps lied a little; I think about them often; I am proud to be counted in the job they were a part of; the family we were a part of – although often dysfunctional like any family – it is still a family!

 

I sometimes think about them, and I am sad, and proud, and feel their loss.

 

Today I posted on Facebook because it is National Police Remembrance Day, but tomorrow they will still not be here, I will miss them, I will look at their photos, I will remember their stories (because through those stories they live forever), I will think of their families, I will think of their communities; all of who were a little better because of their service.

 

Also, because tomorrow a bunch of men and women in blue, will go out and do it all again; without fear from the loss of their mates; now that’s brave; that’s what makes the Police.

 

RIP heroes.

Better at Father’s Day

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I thought I should write something for Father’s Day.

Firstly, what is Father’s Day – is it a day we celebrate being fathers or a day we are celebrated as being fathers.  What is the difference.  I think it is the difference between wanting to be recognised as being a father and being grateful for being a father.

I think I am the latter.Screen Shot 2015-09-06 at 12.31.26

I don’t know if it is because I am getting older (and hopefully wiser) that I spend a lot more time being grateful for what I have as opposed to lamenting and complaining about what I don’t have.

I have 5 children; three of my own and 2 step children.  I reckon I’m lucky.  Of course there are days when I am plotting their deaths and I am sure there are days when they are actually in the process of having me assassinated; but, over all it is a privilege to have children (assassination and death plots aside!).  Not only is it a privilege to have children, it is a privilege to have children and live in Australia, where they have a pretty reasonable chance of growing up happy – where in a lot of other places in the world the chances of them even growing up are pretty slim.

I suppose as a father my main responsibility is to provide a sense of hope that although the world may at times be a pretty nasty and unfair place, there is a good chance of finding happiness.

I also think that the saying that we are not as smart as our children until they are at least 25 is as equally valid as realising that they are just doing what we did when we were young but we don’t recognise it, well basically ever, and when we do, we try to stop them.  I keep asking myself the question, Why?  And, I actually can’t think of a valid reason.  Yes, we may do this when they are younger to stop them putting a knife in the powerpoint or walking in front of traffic, but, do we have a right, or even a misplaced sense of responsibility in doing this when they are teenager, young adults, or even the 20+ adults that just wont leave home!

IScreen Shot 2015-09-06 at 12.34.06f you would have asked me this question a few years ago, or perhaps even a few months ago, I would have raved on about discipline, parental responsibility, experience, etc etc….  well, basically all the stuff my parents said to me.  But, today, not just because it’s father’s day, but today, after doing a reasonable job of being the benevolent family dictator, without the benevolence, I have realised that my responsibility as a father is not just discipline, home defence, no one sitting in my favourite chair, sitting at the head of the table and mowing the law.
My job is safety.

Not the home defence safety, not the child proof lock of the medicine cabinet safety, not the boyfriend/girlfriend assessment safety, not the ‘your grounded’ safety….  but the safety that involves being someone your children can trust.

It involves different safety codes that don’t involve a hi-Viz vest and an iron fist.

  • The safety to tell the truth
  • The safety to ask questions
  • The safety to express as opinion
  • The safety to make mistakes
  • The safety to always call home home
  • The safety of a hug
  • The safety of unconditional love
  • The safety of asking advice and ignoring it
  • The safety of leading their life their way
  • The safety of knowing Mum and Dad, Step Mum and Step Dad, will be proud of me for being me
  • The safety of forgiveness

I have decided that Father’s Day is not about being worshiped with a coffee cup saying “Worlds Greatest Dad”, but a day for me, the father, to be grateful that with all my faults, I still get to feel that pang in my chest when I think of my children, and despite everything past and all things future, I know that being a Father is a privilege that provides no greater love in your life.

Better at Dealing with Dickheads

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Screen Shot 2015-09-02 at 15.49.22
I try to write my posts about profound and important things, you know, the stuff that fills our heads but often gets overlooked because life gets in the way.

Often, it is not life that gets in the way though, it is the people that seem to be from a different planet…. let’s call them ‘dickheads.’

I have spent my life dealing with dickheads and have even written a previous post about the ‘scientific name’ which is ‘6 percenters’  (Click here to my link about 6 percenters…. or just read on and you’ll get the point.)

Let’s get an analysis of your average dickhead;  I’ll make it simple….

They just get in the way of having a normal day, with normal stuff and a reasonably pleasant journey through the stuff that fills our days.  They are the people that either fuck up the line in the shop or fuck up our entire life… but, the thing is that they are just the same in all aspects of life. Mainly it is just the amount of damage they actually are allowed to create that is different.

I say ‘allowed to create’ as your average dickhead is not measuring their damage but just going about creating it, oblivious to the existence of the rest of us.

You can’t hate them (that just plays into their game). You can’t pity them because you hate them too much.

Lets again look at the average dickhead.  We allow them to be a part of our life.  That is the point.  They want us to say ‘no’ when they ask a question so that they can argue with us; they want us to say ‘yes’ to a question (often a stupid question) so that they can feel empowered by our acquiescence to their stupidity.  You are getting the point, at this point, aren’t you?  You can not reason or negotiate with a dickhead – they are just a dickhead.

It is also important to realise that most dickheads can be identified immediately after you meet them – it is usually through an apology from the person that introduced them, who says “So-and-So is a bit different but you get used to them” – whoop whoop Dickhead alert!  Do not make this parson your friend – even their friends cautioned you about being their friend – were you listening!

I myself may have fallen into this category in the past, but, I have the unfortunate position of now realising it.  When this happens the only time you can be a dickhead is when you allow yourself to fall into the dickhead trap – which of course is not actually believing that you are a dickhead, when you are.

Screen Shot 2015-09-02 at 16.57.35Example: the average dickhead will often have manipulated themselves into a position of authority .  The reason this has happened is that everyone else thought that they were the only one that thought this person was a dickhead  and didn’t want to speak out in the event that everyone else thought they were the dickhead.  Hence the dickheads rule supreme because everyone else who is not a dickhead doesn’t want to be one.  It is like the old catch 22 movie – in that you only realise you are a dickhead when you are not one, and if you are one you never realise you are.

Your average, in authority, dickhead, will often ask a question looking for an argument… they want you to say ‘no’.  DO NOT FALL FOR THIS TRAP!!!   In the event that a dickhead asks you to do something that is often very dickheadish in it’s totality, just say YES.  Okay, I know this sounds stupid, but, just reflect for a moment the reason they asked the question in the first place, which of course was hoping that you would say ‘no’.  By saying ‘yes’, this throws the dickhead modus operandi into complete chaos.  They will often question you more about your positive response to what may even spark in them the realisation that what they are asking you is… well let’s face it… often just fucking stupid.  The trick here is to stay the course… continue to agree and and say ‘yes’ to whatever absurdity they suggest or require of you.  This will often lead to the situation where they will leave, empowered in dickheadologistical self assurance, thinking that you are about to get on with the ridiculous task or request they have just set.

Now, the real empowerment of dealing with dickheads comes to the fore.   It is this.  You just don’t do it.  Yes, you said ‘yes’, and they believe you said ‘yes’ and that is what they heard.  They leave thinking that this thing is to be done.  …and, well you just don’t.  The absolute glory of dealing with this situation is that in the event that they ever come back and ask you if you did this thing, you just say ‘yes’.  If they have evidence that you didn’t do it, you just say sorry… they may yell at you and tell you to do it again… and of course you say ‘yes’, and of course you just don’t do it again.  This circle of request, non action, enquiry, apology, request, no action…has a finite life.  Why?  Well, mainly because the average dickhead has too many things to be a dickhead about to worry about you.

Eventually they will not be getting the required amount of angst to drive their motor.  They, in the end, don’t even go away angry… they just go away.  This may sound too simplistic, but give it a try – of course if you are a dickhead, you will not even understand this and probably write a reply to this post complaining about the grammar or spelling… sorry about that, I will correct it in the second draft.

Okay; one dickhead dealt with – that is the authoritarian dickhead.  What about the subordinate dickhead.  Oh, the glory in this solution is beyond belief.  You just ask them what they want.  Don’t argue with them about what you want (bearing in mind if you do this you run the risk of you becoming a dickhead).  Just ask in the simplest of terms what is it that they want.  Of course this confused them, as it is their one task in life to upset anyone making a request of them… you may get any sort of reply from the outlandish to the immediate submission to your authority.  Of course nothing they say makes any differencScreen Shot 2015-09-02 at 15.52.53e to your next tactic – just give them what they want.  Sound absurd, but think about it.  They are a dickhead and just want to keep asking you for things that you cannot give – so turn the tables on them and ask them what they want.  When they request it, give it to them – dickhead problem solved as they have nothing to argue about.  Of course most times it won’t get to this as merely  asking them what they want will throw them into confusion as what they really want, deep down, it to shit you off and be a dickhead.  Of course later on when it all turns to shit, you just blame them anyway as you used that magnificent get our of gaol free card… delegation.

Dealing with dickheads is only hard if you let them make it hard.

Although the dickhead tactic is to make it appear as if it is all about them, really it is all just about shitting you off and fucking up your day – DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN!  Follow the simple rules recapped below:

  • Say ‘yes’ to dickhead requests (remember they WANT you to say ‘no’ to argue)
  • Always ask a dickhead what they want and give it to them (this confuses them and will often end in them not doing anything, which is good as they then don’t fuck stuff up)
  • In the event point 1 and 2 fail – just walk away – say nothing, ignore their request to continue the conversation – walk away… slowly, if possible, very slowly; do not look back, do not engage with them.  When you return at some time in the future (10 minutes to 4 hours is usually enough), pretend that it never happened.  If they ask what happened just say you couldn’t stay any longer and leave it at that.  They are confused as there was no confrontation. In the future when you start to turn away they will become afraid and do whatever you want.

Also remember dealing with dickheads should be fun.  Never get angry as this is their fuel. Smiles and the ‘yes’ word are their enemies.

Finally, your average dickhead is only in your life for a short time.  Eventually they go away and you get to tell great stories about how you dealt with them.  I am certain that eventually all dickheads congregate together and just go to meetings (see my recommendations on dealing with meetings here).

Remember, NEVER play their game their way. If you do, you just become a dickhead.

 

Better Two Funerals and a Letter

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I recently went to two funerals – two days in a row!2009-06-09 Me Jo Short Hol 066

I had only heard about each funeral in the morning and changed my day to go to each.  I cancelled my appointments and rescheduled – well, everything I had to do – all the necessary parts of life, that can’t wait, on these days, just had to wait…

Both were Mums. One left this world after a long life and one left this world with a long life
unspent.

The mourners were the family and close friends.  The absent, were the acquaintances, the work colleagues and all the other people that we run around filling our lives with.
I was not there as a part of the families – I was not there as a life long close friend – I was not there for the Mums who we were mourning – I was there for the living.

I was there because the living need the living, to keep them living, when they mourn the dead.  It made me sad.

But, I was prouder than I was sadder.  I was there if needed.  Mostly I was there.

I drove home and watched the world of Mums, and Dads, and friends, and work colleagues, and acquaintances, all still running around filling their lives, because they were the living – it is a world of the living.

This is not the first time I have noticed that the living don’t notice that they are living.  They mourn the dead and then go to the shops.

As we get older there are less of us living who we know: fewer who were with us from the start; until eventually we may be lucky, or unlucky enough to be the last one that you really know – we are there sitting in our chair, watching ‘Days of Our Lives’, pissing our pants and waiting for our relatives to visit who never seem to come – at what stage do we become irrelevant as part of the living but not quiet yet one of the dead.  Does our funeral signify a relief to the living, and perhaps to ourselves – or is it just another occasion for the living to be too busy to attend.

Two funerals are not necessarily better than one.

At one of the funerals the poem “The Dash’ by Linda Ellis was read : which in part says:

….. he noted that first came the date of birth

and spoke the following date with tears,

but he said what mattered most of all

was the dash between the years…..

Screen Shot 2015-08-13 at 17.12.14So even in death, it really is the living that matter.  It probably goes as far to say that it doesn’t really matter how you die, but how you live.  Yeah, it is tragic and sad when someone goes before their time, but when you go, surely that is your time.  It always surprises me, when we are surprised at death, as really, and literally, it is inevitable for all of us – it is just the timing and the length and quality of the dash that are different.

Not going to funerals is however a different thing to not going to just about anything else.  We can visit lots and lots after the first date, and be involved lots of times during the ‘dash’.  But after the second date, the celebration of the second date, that date has nothing after it for the person who’s name is above those dates and the dash.  I suppose it may well not matter because they will never know – only we, the living will.

Two funerals are not necessarily better than one – but one funeral is inevitable for us all, we must attend ; no one else is on the compulsory list, no one else who is a part of the living are required.

Perhaps I go to funerals because it tells me a lot about the living – it tells me that my ‘dash’ is still there and there is yet one date to be written – and as with all, the length of the dash in undetermined, although always inevitable; but, most of all the quality of the dash can be changed in an instant – good or bad.

So, I will attend funerals to celebrate the insertion of the second date for someone else, and the continuation of my ‘dash’.  I may very well shed a tear for the Mum of my friend and the wife of my friend and the friend of my friend.  I may shed that tear for the dead and the living.

I read the ‘memorial card’ – the last letter written for the dead by the living.  The photo and verse that they choose to leave this world with.  That last memento of their ‘dash’ you get to hold in your hand.  And, then they are gone.  They live nowhere else other than in our thoughts – and perhaps more importantly in our deeds – deeds done in their name: deeds such as kindness, charity, fairness, forgiveness and love.  Deeds that start with “what would Mum/Dad/Wife/Husband/Child/Friend do, what would they be proud of me for….”

DSCN2413So, the second date is inserted for another, and the funeral has been, their final letter written and I am on my way to the shops.  I do the stuff that the living do.

I go home where I live my ‘dash’ and collect my mail on the way to the door.

There’s a letter.  Not junk mail, not bills, not a hastily written card for my birthday, not a personalised “To The Householder” envelope, but…. a letter.

It was from my friend, who is part of the living.

I had two funerals and a letter.  They were two long days that now they are over, seem too short.

I read my funeral cards and read my letter – two from the dead and one from the living.  All moments of time I can hold in my hand.

I’ll keep rescheduling and leave the living for a morning or an afternoon to go to farewell the dead.  It is the last date after the dash; it is their last letter that we get to hold.

I’ll also keep writing letters to the living; then when my second date is inserted they can keep that moment to remember our dash.

 

 

 

Better Oblivious

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I haven’t written for a while (the post Better an Avatar was written a while ago and I only just posted it recently).  The reason I haven’t written is that I have been living.

I had to feed the cat.
I had to pay my bills.
I had to go to that party.
I had to go to sport.
I had to do some shopping – to get stuff.
I had to organise stuff – to go with the stuff I bought.
I had to write a ‘to do’ list.
I had a meeting.

But, I had been living like that all my life.  I was going through the motions, doing stuff and getting stuff done.

Then the other day I was driving to do stuff and noticed that the road was full of other people driving to do their stuff.  One of them cut me off and I cut one of them off.  I got to where I was going and didn’t remember getting there, and then went hone and didn’t remember why it had been so important to just come from the place I had come from: but was glad it was done, as I had other stuff to do.Screen Shot 2015-08-07 at 01.41.07

I watched TV.

I got in the car the next day and did the same stuff all over again.

I stopped at the lights today and realised that we were all stopped at the lights:

Oblivious

Why is it when we are young the days are short and the years long; and as we get older the days are long and the years short….

Does our obliviousness to the world mean that eventually we go into oblivion oblivious.  Do we go into oblivion wondering when those short days got long and those long years got short.  Do we look back on those days and years and lament their passing or look to tomorrow and welcome the time – anytime – long or short, that we may have left.  Do we see the person we were yesterday and miss them, or do we notice the person we are today and plan for them to be better tomorrow.

(I have so much stuff to do tomorrow – do I really have time to be a better man?)

I can live my life oblivious and still be happy….
Probably happier than worrying about everything….
What are all these things, (what things?), things that I should worry about….?

Maybe they aren’t?  Maybe when I talked about my sphere of concern (see my post Better Authority Responsibility, Concern) expanding exponentially with every news cast and reaction to every advertisement to buy my next necessary possession, I realise that all the things are just things.  The main focus of my life is things and I don’t even know what the things are, and I most definitely don’t notice them.

My circle of concern has become so large that I can’t even see it and therefore are concerned about everything and nothing.

My concern about everything manifests itself in me noticing nothing – I am oblivious.

I was so oblivious that I was oblivious to being oblivious.

But, in that brief moment that you may notice your life, you have to find a way to capture it, to prolong it; prolong it, so that moment becomes your life.

Screen Shot 2015-08-07 at 01.51.59And…. this is not the first time it has happened.  I have just realised, noticed actually, that I wrote a post called Better off Oblivious about a year ago.  Perhaps our lives really are in seasons and at the moment the leaves are falling off and I am seeing the forrest for the first time – although it’s not the first time; it just seems that way.

Do we prolong the moments in our life to such an extent that they only ever become…. well, now.  Is there actually any other reality other than now.  I can’t live in the past.  I can’t live in the future.  It literally only leaves now.

If I am oblivious, I think what I am actually doing is being oblivious to now.  How can that be.

I am here.
It is now.
How can I not notice?

I think by noticing those oblivious around me, I should not be oblivious to me around them.  Do I see them, do they see me.  Are we too busy collecting all the stuff we can’t take with us to notice the stuff that is with us everyday – that stuff being me, now.

I don’t think I can help switching on autopilot when the road is straight and there aren’t too many bumps.  But what about that unexpected wind sheer or the motorist pulling out from the side street – does it switch of the autopilot or just make me pay attention to avoid my own death.  Is doing nothing other than avoiding death through slight corrections on the auto pilot actually a sort of walking death – are we all Zombies and don’t actually notice because we are all Zombies.  Are we undertaking normal Zombie behaviour and eating our own brains with advertising and the messages from the merchants of misery (the Media) because that is just what Zombies do.  Even if you notice you are a Zombie can you stop being one.

I think so.

As I sit on my death bed (that would be a living death bed if I was a Zombie!) do I feel the bed or do I feel those long years and those short days.  Is my last day the only day that I have actually lived because all those long years now seem so short and this last short day will shortly be gone forever and me with it.

If that day was today, would I be greeting oblivion, or heaven, or valhalla, or whatever it is you think you’re going to next, completely unaware as to where I am going or where I have actually been.  Probably.

So, I might just live this moment.  Because that’s all there really is.

(Fuck, I forgot to feed the cat!)

 

Better an Avatar

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I just watched the movie “Avatar” (yes, again!) and was fascinated by the phrase “I see you.”Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 16.34.42

Yes, it is a movie and not real, I understand that.  But, maybe, sometimes movies are Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 16.34.42reflections of not only the writers impression of the world, or his/her fantasy world but what the world perhaps is, or is not.

What is really meant by those prophetic lines in movies that seem to resonate with us.  I suppose we all have our favourites, but some you just can’t get out of your head; why?

“Carpe diem”
“ET phone home”
“Get busy living, or get busy dying”
“I’ll have what she’s having”
“May the Force be with you”

I remember reading once that a young science fiction writer wrote a story in college about a rocket ship journey into outer space: when he received his result for submitting the story his lecturer praised him about the phallic symbolism of the rocket ship and the deeper meaning of journeys into sexual exploration…. the writer said, he didn’t intend that, it was just a story about people on a rocket ship having an adventure in outer space!

But, all stories come from ‘real people’ which are later transferred into images, in our minds if we are reading it, or on the screen if we are watching it.

So, does the phrase in Avatar, “I see you” reflect what is happening in our world or what is not happening – did the writer here, translate something from the real world to the ‘fantasy’ world of movies and stories, or are all movies and stories really only reflections, often in distorted, or never imagined mirrors.

I think the ” I see you” is what we want in the world.

We want to be seen – not that 15 minutes of fame on the news, or the non reality of a reality TV show and the stardom of sporting super hero will probably elude most of us.

I think we all just want to be seen for who we are.

We want to be seen as someone who is a real person.  Not a number, not unimportant.  someone who may have a story, no matter how small; someone who wants to be happy; someone who most of all doesn’t want to be disregarded.Screen Shot 2015-08-03 at 16.40.38

I once read a very insightful quote (which I will attempt to recite below but can’t remember the reference!):

“I’d rather be hated than disregarded”

Is the world we are in today, a world that is more connected than ever before with mobile phones, the internet, social media and an electronic device humming in our ears and flashing before our eyes constantly; are we actually blind.  Do we actually see each other.

Do we see the people in our lives everyday, or are we one of the people invisible to the world:

Do you see the service station attendant?
Do you see your neighbours?
Do you see the waiter?
Do you see the people behind the papers you shuffle?
Do you even see your own family?
Do you see yourself?

Maybe it is a case of seizing the day, phoning home, getting on with living, experiencing living and having some higher spirituality than a good selfie and the most ‘Likes’ on Facebook.

I see me, I see you.  Let’s get together some time and watch a movie.

 

 

 

“Carpe diem” – Dead Poets Society (1989)
“ET phone home” – The Extra-terrestrial (1982)
“Get busy living, or get busy dying” – The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
“I’ll have what she’s having” – When Harry Met Sally (1989)
“May the Force be with you” – Star Wars (1977)

Better Say it Now….

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I do have a lot more time on my hands lately working towards retirement, and have realised that a lot of what I used to talk about doesn’t appear to matter so much anymore.

I have also noticed that what is important to others, my friends, my work collegues, has just lost it’s urgent and imperative nature.  I have realised that a lot of what we talk about and say really is just the momentum of the rubbish that fills modern day life.

  • Is that report really urgent – or even important.Screen Shot 2015-07-10 at 11.21.59
  • Do we really care about that piece of office politics – does it even touch my life unless I talk about it.
  • Give me that 3 minutes back that I wasted reading that email.
  • Do I need to send that email – especially to confirm a conversation I just had with
    you.
  • I really can’t tolerate listening to you bitch about the same thing you have been bitching about for the last three (or even read 10) years in your job.
  • ….. and of course as I have said before, your ailments may be serious but they are not very interesting.

I wrote once before about the rituals of going to work, or even catching up with relatives and friends and we go through the motions – “Good-day, how are you” – “Fine, and you” – Yeah, great”.  Of course this is all thrown into turmoil when you say “How are you?” and they actually tell you – God, kill me!

Well that’s what I thought.  But, now I have a ‘but’ to my previous reasoning behind that.

Surely, me asking them how they are – even in an automated ritual – and them telling me is important.  It must be more important than the footy scores on the weekend?

Although lately I am watching more footy, not having been a real sports nut in the past, and I think I am beginning to understand – it is good fun, exciting and I now get how yelling at the TV can be very satisfying…  even if I don’t know every players name (who was ever born!) and their entire career and statistical history!  I also just realised that there is a sort of ‘sports spectator elitism’ – I am sure if next time I go to the pub and talk about the footy and can’t recite a blow for blow rendition of the entire game, I am some how tarnished as a ‘pretender’ and just doing it to ‘fit in’ – so I secretly sneak back to being a closet footy supporter and reading classic novels, appreciating art, wearing clothes other than track suits, continue to say Australia instead of Straya, watch the ABC (non footy shows), and have all my own teeth.  I have learned my lesson; so the next time I go to the pub and they ask me about the footy, I say I don’t follow it, they call me a poofta, it’s just easier!

So you are telling me how you really are?  But, I am busy and have to get to that meeting about forming a committee to develop an innovative planning proposal to segway our new Bullshit-Bingo1benchmark process into organisational synergy and value added people friendly systems.

The other day I went to the country town where I grew up as a kid.  In doing some business around town I came across an old school buddy.  I really enjoyed the chat and it was funny how, I think… we still thought about the same things – well sort of, it is a bit hard to explain…..  But, it was a connection, or reconnection, that I really enjoyed and still resonates with me now, a couple of days later.

I felt pretty good after talking to my ‘old mate’ and immediately it popped into my head to tell my Mum about it as she still has a great memory of all the ‘old town’ people……  then…..  I remembered, she died.

It is something that happens, I think, to all of us, that we want to ‘chat’ to someone and realise they are gone – either gone, dead – or gone, not in our lives anymore.

It is a bit sad, but it is sadder that we don’t actually say the things we want to say when they are around.  They are the moments, we all have them, when we are thinking of someone and say “I better give so-and-so a call’ and then life gets in the way (probably that meeting where we are still trying to work out what ‘synergy’ really means) and then the moment is lost and before we know it they may very well be completely lost.

It will always be the conversation we never had.

The other day I rang an old mate to say hello.  There is an amazing thing about mobiles phones, they have been around for a long time nowadays and people take them when they move house; plus there is Facebook and the interwebthing where you can always find someone – I think I have had the same mobile phone number for about 17 years!

So I rang my old mate and we went through the cordial hello’s, how are you (thank God he didn’t tell me!) and then he said “So, how can I help you?” and I said “You can’t, I just rang to say hello to me old mate and to see how you were going”.  There was silence for a moment, and he said, well thanks mate, I really appreciate that, good to here from you.  I then actually, asked him how he was going because I wanted to know!!!  ….. and then he told me, and I was interested, and I listened, and I cared …… and we had a great old chat; old mates talking shit.  Now we finished off that we would catch up for a coffee, and maybe we will, but now it doesn’t matter so much because we said what had to be said, what didn’t have to be said and were glad that it wasn’t too late.  I probably will give him another ring, and probably will catch up for a coffee.

So, if I ring you for no reason, this is probably the reason.  I’m sorry that it might come out of the blue and you may be busy – that’s okay, ring me back after the meeting and I walk out of mine to talk to you – I am actually interested in how you are – I can spare the time, because tomorrow, later, after the silly season, in the holidays, after I get this report finished….., may never come.Screen Shot 2015-07-10 at 11.24.37

So, I will finish with one of my favourite poems.

Sorry if I am repeating anything I have written before – it is just that nowadays,  I am just sitting down and writing as opposed to hyperlinking my life….  each thing that I have to say, I don’t put off, the excuses are only the ones I create…

 

The Indispensable Man

 

Sometimes when you’re feeling important

Sometimes when you’re ego’s in bloom

Sometimes when you take it for granted

You’re the best qualified man in the room

 

Sometimes when you think that your going

Will leave an un-fillable hole

Just follow these simple instructions

And see how it humbles your soul

 

Take a bucket and fill it with water

Put you hand in it up to the wrist

Take it out and the hole that’s remaining

Is a measure of how you’ll be missed

 

You can splash all you like as you enter

You can stir up the water galore

But wait and you’ll see in a moment

It looks just the same as before

 

The moral in this quaint example

Is just do the best that you can

Be proud of yourself and remember

There’s no indispensable man

 

 

Better in the Glory Years

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Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.57.13What is it with old people wanting to either rule the world or tell me about their latest operation.

As I have said before, the ailments of the elderly are often serious but rarely interesting.

Just learn to love your life… now.

What are the glory years.

I think they are between 25 and 45.  That seems like a very short window of opportunity, but it is in that period between I don’t know shit and I don’t give a shit

As an ‘older’ person (50+) surely we have contributed through the hard years, with long hours, innovation, promotions, the hard slog and trying to make a difference in a world where everybody is trying to do the same.  The next generation is coming!  …. and they are coming in their own way.Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.44.18

Just the other day I was sitting at a committee meeting with the same people I have been sitting on that committee with for the last 25 years!  When we all joined the committee we were appalled by the ‘old bastards’ who were doing the job then and slowly pushed them
from the committee so that we could drag it into something worthwhile for our generation. We were young, smarter than them, more motivated than them, and in all honesty got
things done!  I pointed out to the committee members the other day that we are all now ten years older than the ‘old bastards’ were when we pushed them out.  I also reminded them that when they speak to the young people this committee allegedly ‘serves’ – after we have passed on our little gem of knowledge and walked away thinking we have imparted some real wisdom, don’t listen too closely as you will hear “Silly old bastard”
being said.

I just think that the things we do in our life (as with friends) are for reasons and seasons and occasionally, very occasionally for that entire life.Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.37.25

It is similar in that there are jobs (the people you meet as friends on holidays), vocations (the people who love what you do and they love doing it with you) and true passions (the childhood friend who you still hang out with and couldn’t imagine them not being in your life).

It is realising which one you are doing that is important.  I am sure lots of us wake up and realise that we have suddenly found out that the friends we met on holidays are in our life all the time and we are not on holidays anymore and it is just not the same and secretly we wish they would just go away (why did I give them our address!?)

It is the same with the ‘glory years’.  We hang onto them and then suddenly realise (or actually most people don’t realise) that they are over and now you are just the old guy on the committee who talks shit and wont retire!

I was in the pub the other day (a serious part of my post 50 vocation) when I saw a guy who I used to work with and barely recognised him.  No, it wasn’t because he looked old and wanted to tell me about a rash that wouldn’t go away – it was because he looked so good, younger, fitter, healthier, happier.  Why?  He was 9 days (he also told me the hours) until he officially retired from a ‘vocation’ he had been doing for 40 years.  He said it was time to retire and he was moving onto the next part of his life.  He didn’t bitch about his working life but said how great it was and how much he had loved it, but now was the time to go, it wasn’t his world anymore – by the way he was 55!

I know how he feels and am on the cusp of retiring myself.  I am not going away bitter, I am just going away.  Not going out in a blaze of glory, or hanging on as a sad, bitter, pathetic dinosaur – but, slowly stepping out the door, shaking the hands of the ‘friends’ I will never see again, remembering the good times, allowing the bad times to fade and leaving it all in the hands of those like me back them, living the glory years.

Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.40.05POST SCRIPT
I am not dead, just different!  The ending of the glory years are the beginning of something more special.  Spending time with yourself, being in the world and not pushed along buy it.  I am also here if you need me, I have the time to help and the time to talk – not the time to child care and baby sit by the way!  I managed that myself so can you.  It is the time for turning learning into wisdom, if for no one else other than myself.  It is time for noticing the world.  It is a time for peacefulness, spiritualness (that can be anything you want), laughter and remembering.  It is a a time for phone calls to friends or people who you would like to be your friends (not people you met on holidays – or maybe now it is the time for them?).  It is time for phone calls, visits and letters to those who need them.  It is time for thankfulness and forgiveness.

It is the post ‘glory years’ where the real rewards actually are, you just a have to look and stop telling people about your next Doctors appointment!

Better at being FAT

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I think everyone should think positive thoughts about themselves.Screen Shot 2015-06-06 at 1.39.36 pm Screen Shot 2015-06-06 at 1.39.05 pm

So often the ‘Merchants of Misery’ (aka the Media and Advertisers) tell us that we should be a certain way, dress a certain way, weigh a certain amount, protest against a perceived injustice…… but, really we are nothing like the way they tell us to be.

We are all different….

But, being different, having a positive body image and loving ourselves is different from using all these things to justify being unhealthily overweight…….. wow, that preamble didn’t prepare you for that did it!!!!!

Enough already with confusing body image with being unhealthy.  Enough already with excuses for being fat…. you are fat because you eat toooooooo much!!!!!!!

Okay, stop yelling.

Let’s just get this out of the way.  Yes, you can be overweight and still be healthy, playing sport, having an active life, low cholesterol, normal blood pressure and blood sugar – basically the same as a skinny person…. BUT, a BIG BUT (no pun intended), most people who are over weight are NOT like that!!!!

And just one more thing to get out of the way.  Do you really think (now answer honestly!), do you really think, the plus sized models haven’t been photo-shopped!

Okay one more thing – I have seen the ‘body image’ photographs of women after breast cancer and think there is real bravery and true stories of appropriate body image pride but that is a different thing and probably the subject of another post for you to hate me over…. also remember my wife had breast cancer so no rock throwing from a glass house here….

The above things are different from just being fat.  Being fat and unhealthy are not about body image they are about the tale we have been sold to make us feel better about ourselves by buying lots of food, lots of take aways, lots of cakes, lots of ‘energy drinks’ and not beating the bulge.

I hate it that the media tell us what we should be like, but I also hate it that people tell me not to tell my own children that they are getting dangerously overweight!  I hate it that a size 10 in now an old size 12… now there is an injustice.  I hate it fast food companies are targeted for serving unhealthy food yet fat people are not targeted for gluttony!   I hate it that fat is the new fashion accessory, that muffin tops are mandatory and having an acre of exposed wobbling flesh (and your 15!) is okay.Screen Shot 2015-06-06 at 1.38.02 pm

Remember, don’t hurt their feelings, don’t give them anorexia, give them a big Mac instead and a heart attack at 40.

Stop making offensive media, fashion and advertising issues about anything other than manipulation and trying to get that last cent out of your wallet.

God, there are so many people that I love and here are a few things I say to them:

– dont drink drive
– dont take drugs
– dont smoke cigarettes

Through these phrases I am a caring, loving and thoughtful person, wanting the best for my family and friends.

But I become a criminal when I say don’t eat that pie for morning tea, that subway footlong for lunch, a snickers for afternoon tea, 2 minutes noodles when you get home, hungry jacks for tea with KFC for a midnight snack….. because it WILL make you fat….

FACT:   Calories in Calories out.Screen Shot 2015-06-06 at 1.37.11 pm

(Just a note – have you ever seen a fat person in a concentration camp – also another interesting fact, concentration camps were invented by the English not the Germans!)

Sorry….. but using body image to sell fast food to fat people is a disgrace……

I am ready now to be hated…..

PS: Don’t try and sell me that big boned argument either, yeah, I agree there are genuine conditions such as lymphedema – but some of the other conditions, “hello type 2 diabetes” that are actually caused by being fat – not the other way around – any other exotic “it made me fat” diseases really are unique and not the cause of our general fat population – see above calories in – calories out!

Better at Telling Lies

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Screen Shot 2015-06-08 at 10.05.17 amWell I have been writing a lot of political and philosophical stuff in the last couple of posts (I even swore in a few and posted one of those on LinkedIn – oh, how naughty to actually print fuck!) and during that time I got to thinking what it must be like to be other people.

I often go on personal empathetic journeys, wondering ‘what would it be like to be….’

So here’s just a few that come to mind:

Bill GatesScreen Shot 2015-06-08 at 10.05.42 am
My thoughts were – when you had more money than you could ever spend, what would be fun any more.  Would it be fun to mess around in your shed, or does fixing the lawn mower get trumped by ‘how will I make my next billion.’  I think Bill walked away from it all and set up his foundation.  Someone said he was trying to buy a Nobel Prize – which I think is fair enough as it is better than trying to buy ‘SnapChat’ – curing world hunger and disease beats a good selfie any day!

Tony AbbottScreen Shot 2015-06-08 at 10.06.15 am
Did he really start out to do what he has done – surely not!  Do any of them from any political side, what makes a man of values and virtue do some of the stuff they do.  Just one question answered Yes or No by any of them would make my day.  Also have you ever thought how they are supposed to know all the stuff the media ask them?

Myuran SukumaranScreen Shot 2015-06-08 at 10.07.49 am
What were those last moments like – knowing what was coming.

Terrorists
Really?  How can you think what you are doing is okay at any level, anywhere…

Nelson MandellaScreen Shot 2015-06-08 at 10.06.48 am
Who was gaoled for being a terrorist – then wasn’t a terrorist when the government changed – then became the government and opposed violence.

My Mum
She’s dead now, but what was it really like.  Was I a selfish, self centred, disregarding, never visiting, take for granted, spoilt child like I think mine are? (PS:  I don’t think my Mum ever told a lie!)Screen Shot 2015-06-08 at 10.08.27 am

My Children
Do my children think they are the same as the above, or that I am hard to deal with, controlling, killjoy, overprotective, guilt mongering, cash tight, old fashioned, fuddy-duddy parent?

The Fucking Arsehole that Just Cut Me Off
Is he/she an arsehole; do they think I am an arsehole?  I am trying to think what I know about them and realise I am actually them… we all are.  Then I realise I know nothing about them – there are just too many of them!

Me
No, really enough about me – what about you – what do you think of me?  What is it really like to be me (or You – I have assessed YOU below).  Do I really know what it is like to be me.  Do I spend a lot of time pretending to be you wondering what it is like to be me – trying to understand me?  Probably not.

You
I don’t think about you much – I am too busy thinking about me and occasionally wondering what you think about me.  Plus you are probably the arsehole that just cut me off.  Or, could it be possible that you could be me, just the same, but not me.

So, now that I proven that I need to up my medication (what with the split personality flipping between me, you and Bill Gates!), but honestly I am getting pretty sick and tired of all the lies.

I wrote yesterday about the Merchants of Misery (the media and advertising) basically telling us that we are rubbish unless we buy some stuff they tell us we should buy.  But, I am equally sick and tired of the lies everywhere that we tell each other and ourselves about each other and ourselves.

I suppose I am especially disturbed about the lies we tell ourselves and am constantly gob smacked how some of those lies we can actually believe….

  • “I did not have sexual relations with that woman….”
  • “There will be no carbon tax under a government….”
  • “We will find the weapons of mass destruction….” (NB: While typing that I made a typo and wrote “weapons of mass distraction”…….!!!)
  • “I’m not fat, stop oppressing me and giving me a false body image…..”
  • “Gay marriage is an important social……” (NB:  Don’t ask me what I think about gay marriage, because I don’t….)
  • “Climate change is…….”
  • “The Cheque is in the mail…..” (NB: Only for those over 40!)
  • “You look great in that……”

Enough of the quotes I am making up or reciting from memory.  I am just sick of the lies…..

  • Politicians not saying Yes or No;
  • Banks lying by omission on hidden fees and charges (but it was in the PDS! – whatever the fuck that is!)
  • Business saying it is okay to spend millions on lunch
  • Public servants saying they are working hard
  • Politicians using the public sector as their election campaign team and pretending it is policy or progress
  • The Police saying there is no traffic quota (and speed cameras are not for revenue raising – really, fucking spare me!)
  • The Merchants of Misery – everything they say
  • Me saying I am giving up smoking
  • My kids saying they didn’t get my text and they are reaaaaaally busy
  • I oppose the death penalty….. hang on what is that shiny thing over there – I oppose that too…..

But, mostly lying to ourselves that I am more important than you: we are more important (and my new LCD TV) than that starving black kid in whatever overseas land on the news right before the story about the Crows getting beaten and that bloody Port Power winning…..

Really, just stop lying.  If you lie and keep telling yourself it is true, or true enough, or it doesn’t matter, then perhaps it doesn’t, because we will be doomed to die a most unfortunate death……

A death,
oblivious to the truth,
oblivious to others,
and the saddest of all…..

…….oblivious to ourselves.