Better with things on wheels

I just love things on wheels.

No, not big fat muscle cars, but, just stuff that moves around on wheels, in my shed.

I love my shed and I have lots of stuff.  To my wife’s bewilderment, I get more stuff to go with my other stuff.  It is hard to explain why I sometimes need two or three of the
same thing and an array of miss matched and appropriately sorted and labelled screws, nuts, bolts and bits of strange shaped things (some of which I have forgotten the reason I saved them – but I know I will need it tomorrow if I throw it away today!)

So all my stuff fills my shed and often I have to move stuff to get to other stuff.  The answer, have everything on wheels!IMG_7099

I have benches on wheels, seats on wheels, shelves on wheels, lockers on wheels and trollies on wheels to wheel things around that don’t have wheels, yet!

I think it is my knowledge that I am the master of my environment, albeit that it is a 20 x 20 shed,  because of the wheels on my things.

I have decided that there are a few things that must be on wheels to have a productive, safe and happy time in my shed.  Incidentally, this is MY shed and the Occupational Health Safety and Welfare guidelines are what I make them – there will be no ‘Hi-Viz’ vests (see my post on this at Better with Hi-Viz).  Safety will always be trumped by fun, if it is more fun to have something on wheels than it is safe to do so then the wheels must be fitted with all due haste.  Fitting wheels immediately upon a new purchase is imperative however, I do not recommend taking the wheels of your wife’s ‘market trolley’ or small child’s trike as they don’t get it!  In these circumstances, it is just another really good reason to go to Bunnings – because I need a reason!

Okay, so the things that must be on wheels:

  1. A Seat on WheelsIMG_7096
    Mine is an old office chair that I have removed the broken office seat from and replaced it with a stool top.  This allows me to just plonk down on it to either do work on the low bench or the high bench (must have both!) and also to just sit on and have a beer – which is becoming a more regular shed exercise than actually doing work.  This seat of course, being a recycled office chair has adjustable height and most of all, you can scoot around the shed to get stuff (including beer) without actually standing up.
  2. Esky of WheelsIMG_7093
    I have converted an old fridge into my favourite esky (yes I know ‘Esky’ is a brand name but I just hate the word ‘cooler’).  As a result this is a big esky and requires two people to lift it when full but can be wheeled about by one.  Of course having the esky and the above stool on wheels gives you the option of scooting on the stool to the esky or wheeling the esky to you – both fantastic solutions to getting a beer with the minimum of heavy lifting or in fact actually walking.
  3. Tool Box on Wheels
    Well my tool box doesn’t actually have wheels but I have IMG_7102a tool box trolley to wheel my tool boxes around.  This is of course only needed when the ‘shed toolbox’ does not have a tool I need and I have to bring the ‘car toolbox’ into the shed or visa versa.  Plus if you have the tool box on wheels and are using the stool on wheels you can actually do all your jobs again by just scooting around on your stool and having your tool box in tow – and getting beer at the same time.
  4. BBQ on Wheels
    This is not the big BBQ that sits in the back yard with multiple burners, flat plate and wok burner (whatever that is!) but the BBQ that you take to the river, on the family holiday, to the park.  It is also not one of those little round one’s like our Dads had were we had to have three rounds of cooking just to feed the family.  My BBQ has wheels that are to move it from storage to usage.  It is a big flat plate BBQ for doing the IMG_7094sausage sizzle or the morning pancake parade while trying to feed 100s of our own kids and the 100s that always seem to be hanging around (and recently writing things on our shopping list that they would like us to have in our house for them!).  This ‘family BBQ’ is the next generation with a built in table, it’s own set of tools and I have got rid of the annoying little ‘fat cup’ underneath and put in a ‘fat channel’ that  directs all the fat into beer can that you throw away at the end of the day (my Mother would be horrified as this ‘dripping’ was what she cooked all our breakfast eggs in – usually at a depth of about 3 cms!).

I actually can go on and on about things on wheels and how I love my shed – but it is Sunday morning and I am sitting at my computer writing this when I should be having my second cup of coffee in my shed, just standing there, wondering and actually bearing witness to man’s triumph over maintaining serenity and order in a world of hardware and stuff.

So in the future, when you bend to lift that heavy thing, when you have to stand up to get that beer, think about the wonder of wheels on things ……. and go about installing them immediately!

 

 

Better at Parties

I have just returned home from an afternoon birthday party for a mate.  Last night we went to a birthday party for another friend.

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Each time I came home I realised that I am enjoying parties more, when traditionally they were often an ‘obligation’ or a piss fest for dubious reasons.

Why?

Well I suppose it has something to do with the parties I am now being invited to.  This incidentally was a subject of a conversation at both the recent parties that I have attended.

As you may have guessed from my other posts (or the fact that you know me) I am a 53 year old, technically double divorcee, making a great life with my wonderful wife and our complicated and often confusing blended lives.

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Well, at these parties we are often lamenting (sorry, but I love the word lamenting!) our life experience and position in the evolutionary chain where we are now getting invited to funerals, 50+ birthdays or the birthdays of our children; often 21st’s where we either supply the food or the money, and leave early!

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So why at this stage of my life am I ‘better at parties’.

I think the reason is that historically (read – ‘when I was under 30’) parties were supposed to be fun and we would have fun at any cost, even if we were not having fun.  The party of the year could not be missed even if there were another 20 parties of the year that had to be attended in that week!

And, now, parties are something that I go to because I/we are invited because of what I/we bring, other than a present.
And, the presents are often a hand made card, with old photos, and something that was baked or made for the specific purpose of giving it to my friend.
And, leaving early is something that is accepted because we all have real lives
And, we attended because it meant something to us
And, we attended because it meant something to them
And, we felt welcome
And, we laughed (that big belly laugh that only comes with being with real friends)
And, we talk to everyone at the party because they were just like us

And (most of all), even if you left early or were the last to leave, all they way home you chatted about what a good time you had, and how the people were nice, and even though you have enough friends you were now glad that you got to meet new and different people, and how you laughed, and how you were going to ring so-and-so because they seemed a little sad, and you thought you might catch up for a coffee, and how you so, so, so, so much appreciated being at that party.

I am better at parties because the parties are better.

Yeah, it took a little longer than I thought (maybe 30 or so years) to get around to knowing which parties were the best and also organising the parties that were the best.

But, now the only parties I go to, or the only parties I organise are the ones that actually use the excuse of a birthday, an anniversary or even a death to be with the people that add to my life.  The best parties are the ones that celebrate the getting together of people to do nothing other than be with each other; yeah, we celebrate the ‘occassion’ but really it is about the people, and I suppose the word is the ‘fellowship’.

We have an annual ‘Boxing Day’ party, which is basically an open house the day after Christmas for everyone to relax and ‘get over’ Christmas day.  We have been having them for about 6 years and every year is quite Screen shot 2015-02-07 at 10.02.44 AMdifferent.  Some are large, others just small gatherings.  But, they are usually a eclectic collection of our friends from the different spheres of our lives.  Some come all day, some just pop in.  We know everyone and the atmosphere encourages everyone to get to know everyone; this is not a ‘high maintenance guests’ party, and mostly we get to relax as well.  I suppose it is because everyone who comes, actually wants to come as it is an ‘open house’ which I suppose pivots around us, bringing our friends together in doing something easy, in a relaxing and peaceful way.

This is something I take to other peoples parties.  I am there because of the host – it is their party and their friends, some or none of who I may know, but I have been thought of enough to get invited.  I think, therefore if I go, I do not want to be a ‘high maintenance guest!’  I want to add to their party as I hope I add to their life.

When my wife and I got married we only invited people who added to our life.  A few people were surprised at their invites and a few were horrified they weren’t.  We only invited people who added to our lives (no-one was invited out of obligation or just for being a relative!) – so they added to our party/reception and it was a real celebration, with real friends.  One of the people I didn’t invite but worked with everyday for years got a bit miffed and eventually asked me why they hadn’t been invited and I asked them a question – “What does my lounge room look like?” – and they couldn’t answer; in 20 years of working together we had never been to each others houses and only ‘associated’ at work.  I do not work there anymore and have not heard from the person I used to talk to on the phone and see everyday for 20 years, since the day I left…! I don’t miss them.

I want to finish this post now, as it says all I want to really say.  But, and there is is always a but in my posts.  I think I need to share the experiences of my parties, both attended and hosted, that can be quantified in a list.

So, here is my list of ‘hints’ for having or going to a great party.

  1. A good party is one you share with people who add to your life.  This is not people who are in your life everyday – add, means add.  No invitation should ever be sent or accepted through obligation (see my post Better at Obligations)
  2. Actually RSVP  – not 5 minutes before to say sorry but Screen shot 2015-02-07 at 9.42.48 AMyou can’t make is as the kids are sick/baby sitter cancelled/had to work – we all know it’s bullshit – have the guts to say no!
  3. Generosity in time in preparing or attending is noticed and reciprocated.
  4. The start time is a real indicator of the time that the party actually starts.  Arriving late is just rude (see my post on Better with the ONLY commodity)
  5. Leaving is the time it is supposed to be for you or them.
  6. Stories and listening are equally important – do both, about the same.
  7. Say hello to everyone and say goodbye to those you can.
  8. Send thank you notes.
  9. Bring lots and leave it all – take the last of the cake if offered.
  10. If you organise the next one before the end of this one, actually organise it.

I’m not to sure if I am better at parties or if the parties are better – either way, the party of the year is usually the one you least expect.

Better at Ramming Speed

Some phrases that appear, and also appear to be used everywhere, just don’t make sense to me – I mentioned that in my post Better – Yes? – No?

One of those phrases is “Ramming Speed.”

It appears to be in a lot of movies where something rams something else.  There always seems to be a known constant and the need to accelerate to what appears to be a predetermined speed.images-1

Examples are ship rams ship, car rams car and especially spaceship rams spaceship.

The Captain (maybe you have to be a Captain of something?) always yells “Accelerate to ramming speed.”

I realised that ‘ramming speed’ must therefore be a transportation constant.

As such I went to the owners manual of my 2007 Ford Territory, nothing! I searched Google – “Ramming speed for a 2007 Ford Territory,” nothing!

I have therefore decided that ramming people, or anything for that matter, in a 2007 Ford Territory is not recommended.

It would appear that any urges to ram things (particularly in my car) must be overcome.  After all I wouldn’t want to be travelling at the wrong speed.

Does the decision to NOT ram things, make me a better man?

Better – Yes? – No?

Okay, enough is enough.

What am I talking about – well, yes, no.  How can you start a sentence with a positive and a negative. (Yeah, Narr, also counts!)images-1

I am sorry that I brought this to your attention, because now you can’t ‘unknow” it.   I hope it drives you as crazy as it does me – and if you do it, can you stop, please!

At least it replaced the answer “pretty much” – which was also neither Yes or No.

Because, you know, like, it, like, was just as, like, you know, like, annoying!

PS: I used to say ‘here’s the thing’ a lot at the beginning of sentences – sorry – I am better now.

 

Better at Obligations

If you were wondering if I was going to come around and help you move, or paint the house, of do that paving, or…. well just about anything, the answer is, no.

I don’t go and help people do their stuff and I don’t ask people to help me.  I have arranged the most complex pulley systems, leavers, counterweights and just plain anvilslogged it out alone rather than ask ‘a mate’ for help.  If I do ask for help (I may be pinned under an engine block for example…) I just  can’t get over the feeling of obligation in ‘returning the favour.’  Owing a days work is like spending time until I pay it back carrying an anvil of obligation around my neck (anvils are really heavy…)

Why?

I dont like the ‘obligation’ surrounding ‘helping out’.

It is strange considering that my core values are: Service, Integrity, Loyalty and Knowledge.  I think I should have a look at those in relation to the anvil.

SERVICE

To me service is a selfless thing.  It is doing something for the greater good or the good of the individual who can’t do it for themselves.  Yeah, I would clean out the gutters of the old bloke down the street who can’t do it for themselves and not expect anything in return – other than that feeling that comes from genuinely doing something good for no other reason than it is something good.  I don’t donate too much to charity but when I do I prefer it to be big.  Also, I donate to those I can trust (I do my research – especially when I read in the news the other day that one charity only donates 1% – yes read that – ONE PERCENT – of all money collected to the cause it is raising money for!  The rest goes on administration, running costs and wages!) and I never donate to the ‘Harry-died-of cancer-so-we-made-a-new-charity-to-remember-him-fund’ as they just set up an entire new set of admin which chews into the money collected – wouldn’t it be better to remember Harry by actually making sure all money goes to the cause?

So is this base value of mine really about service.  Yes.  But that service has to be for the right reason and for the right cause.  I easily walk away from anything I am involved in if I think those involved are serving themselves rather than the actual cause – it is hard to find too many that aren’t doing this in one way or another – either organisationally (see any business, charity or corporation that has a HR or publicity department!) or the individuals that are within it, being only in it for them and not in the alturistic way.

I am reviewing my ‘service’ definition as it is easy to talk about it a lot and donate the occasional buck – but surely true service is selfless, serving those who really do serve and coming out the other end a better person from within.

I think I might volunteer (as soon as I fill in all the forms and get my Police clearance and deal with the despot running the show….)

INTEGRITY

I just love integrity.  Have a look at a few definitions about it and then think about what you have done in the past and will do in the future.  I have lied for my family and friends and would probably do it again – is that integrity thing now gone forever.

I once defined integrity as doing the right thing when nobody is watching – however, in todays world I had to put the caveat on it, that integrity is NOT doing the right thing because somebody might be watching!

Plus, I am sure that there are a whole lot of different religions and ideologies that have differing definitions of integrity that have been developed.  Maybe in some places you can be a little bit pregnant just like you can have varying degrees of integrity. Really.  How do you measure someones integrity – I’ve been caught using my mobile phone in the car but never caught stealing – is it because I have never stolen anything or just never been caught  – you might think it’s just because I’ve never been caught.  I am the only one who knows.  Or should my integrity be tested by increasing levels of temptation until I just can’t resist anymore and don’t pay for the chocolate on the HR or Publicity Department front counter – why did ‘Lion Mints’ disappear from counters everywhere – the honour system didn’t seem to quite work out over the long run.  In a world of thieves (or mobile phone users in cars) is the honest man the one without integrity because they are not doing what is expected?

Integrity is within but only ever tested externally – or depending on your beliefs at some later stage after death or never.  I think the greatest test for integrity is in your heart, working on the fact that you have one with the same values, beliefs, ideologies, up bringing, social circumstances, religion, income and opportunity as me.

I think I might have to cross this one of my list.

LOYALTY

Now we’re talking.  Something every Australian can relate to as it is all about ‘mateship’.  Or is it.  The reason I can cross (maybe) integrity off my list is that if you are loyal to your values (and of course you are not a thief) then surely integritytrity is part of that.

I wrote in a previous blog about the people I let live in my head because they pay rent (click here for a read).  It is about being loyal to those that add to your life.  But, is that loyalty boundless and unconditional.  I think not.  You can’t be loyal to a mate, a cause or a country (read Government) that goes against everything you believe in – your values.  Be under no misapprehension I will stand by my friends no matter what – but standing with them may not necessarily be agreeing with them.  Plus, it’s easy to be a friend in the good times (or when your life is not getting in the way) it is much harder to be loyal to a friend when your life is shit (or even when it is good) and you don’t what their shit on top of your shit.

Loyalty, I have decided, is always being loyal to your values.  Let’s face it a friend is a friend usually because they have the same values.

KNOWLEDGE

I have to start this part off with the ‘wisdom of Puk’ a friend of mine who with our mate Des (who passed away recently but will live on through us – read about Des in my post Better with Des Steele, my friend) often plucked (a pluck by Puk!) great wisdom from day to day life.  Puk would comment about others (and hopefully observations of others about us) that there is someone “who know stuff, about things.”

I think we all know that person and often want to be them.  A lucky few were born that way but for most of use the ‘pursuit of knowledge’ especially after we are forced to learn at school is something we have to work and and want to.

I love knowing ‘stuff’

I have just finished an indonesian course (and am doing the advanced one next year – it is on Friday nights so it has a double advantage in that I will learn Indonesian and not go out boozing on Fridays night!).  I have enrolled in a welding course next year – I just always wanted to know how to weld – I want to make stuff!

But so much of the ‘knowledge’ I possess I have learned from other people.  When I was training at work I knew that it was all a bit pointless because 80% of work skills we actually learned on the job, so I hoped my courses were designed more to make people thing and know what to learn, than to actually learn too much at all!

Most of the knowledge I have I go for free, so I think I also have an obligation (there is that word again) to give it away as well.

Also I think knowledge is about knowing yourself – the hardest subject of all.

Plus there are also those things that once you know you can’t ‘unknow’ – these are often the things that change relationships, attitudes, beliefs and even faith in others.  Knowledge is power but it is has to be the case of using that power for ‘good not evil.’  I read “Men are from Mars, woman are from Venus” twice – the first time I learned how to manipulate people the second I learned how to get along with people – it is all about how you use and share you knowledge.

Knowledge is also wonderful.  Great stories, great poems, great adventures and there is nothing better than the epiphany when you learn something new and say “You’re kidding – I never knew that” and in fact it may end a life long misbelief, prejudice or add to your life in ways you couldn’t image.

Knowledge is also a living legacy of all those that came before us on this finite journey.  Knowledge is the relay race of our species and if you don’t take the baton and run, then perhaps you are just a spectator after all.

So what about those obligations?

Where does all this Service, Integrity (still haven’t crossed that one off yet), Loyalty and Knowledge leave me with my obligations?

Simple, I wont be obliged.  I will do what I do because that is who I am: you are my friend because that is who WE are.  It is simple to not ring a friend and through that one act (over a period of time) you stop being friends – were you friends in the first place?  Twice in the last week someone has said to me friends are for a Reason, a Season or a Lifetime…. it is a matter of working out does a reason really make a friendship, are you in summer, winter or are the leaves already falling (seasons can take a long time) or really, “We few, we lucky few, we band of brothers’ are really hear for life.

I will come and help you, because I know you needed me mate?   And of course I want (read, really want) your life to be better because I am in it.  I will not come and help you because I feel obliged.

So what happens when you need your friends and suddenly your life seems pretty solitary.  Firstly don’t tell yourself ‘stories’ like they don’t care about me etc etc.  Maybe their life did get in the way… maybe it was more important.  I was going to write ‘you be the judge’ but recently I realised that I judge just about everybody and everything because that is what I have always done.  It has to be just about the facts – ‘Just the facts, ma’am”!

Obligation no longer exists for me – I think that is the answer.

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It makes life easier (and considering one of my mantras is keep it simple – I think this fits with my values) but execution of a simple plan is often very hard.

But, I can keep that simple to.  If it doesn’t feel right don’t do it.

I’m sure I can be very much obliged but just not enough to be obliged.

As I said in Better with the ONLY Commodity it is all about time – how I spend my finite resource will be about actually being a better man – this may including doing your paving or helping you move, but it will always be about because of the way you made me feel not because of the feeling of obligation.

Just a final thought.

Recently I went through a sad period of my life with the loss of my mate Des and my wonderful Mum.  People, my friends (a lot who were relatives) were great.

My favourite part of this process was when someone rang and uttered those hollow words “If there is anything I can do just let me know” and I would reply, as a matter of fact there is, could you come around and wash my car or mow the lawn or clean our house or tidy my shed or run down the shops and get me a pie and a packet of smokes….. they all thought I was joking!

 

 

 

Better with Des Steele, my friend.

Below is my eulogy to my mate Des Steel.

Recently I received copies of the eulogies from his son Rowan Steele and his great mate Graham Puckridge – I have included these eulogies in this post as well (on 24/12/2014) and will repost this on Facebook and Linkedin.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I went to the funeral recently for my old mate Des Steele.

I am a better man for having had him as my friend.

I will miss him.

I had the honour of doing one of the eulogies.  Below is the text of the eulogy.

 

Des was my friend.

Des was a member of the South Australia Police Pistol Club since the mid 70’s, he had his last shoot on the 30th November 2014 when he a Kelly Dog went up the Club for the last time.

Today members of the club are wearing their red shirts in honour of Des.

Des will always be remembered and honoured at the club in the annual awarding of the ‘Des Steele Trophy’ – which was established in 1997. It is always one of the last trophies to be awarded at the Annual General Meeting after people have stepped forward to collect their highest score trophies, most improved trophies, etc etc….. then would come the announcement of the Des Steel Trophy – always a highly guarded secret. At this time there would be shuffling of feet and lowering of eyes as the trophy was usually awarded after the annual interstate trip to the APSPC and was awarded for

“the behaviour Des would be most proud of.”

 Des surprisingly enough only ever won the trophy once in 2004 – when he was on a road trip to Brisbane with 3 team mates, Miller, Webby and Davey-boy-Goad.  Des was left to navigate while Dave drove and the others slept – when they awoke they had travelled 400 km closer to Adelaide, but unfortunately they were travelling to Brisbane, Des only winning the trophy once is testimony to the good company he kept at the club.

Des was my friend: 

I will miss his handshake

I will miss our long chats where would often lament – and use words such as lament – about:

Life
It’s joys, it’s trials and it’s futility – Des’s philosophy of life was so often expressed in literary greats such as Shakespeare, that Des could quote and recite by heart:

Henry the Fifth, Act 4, Scene 3

Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,

But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words
This story shall the good man teach his son,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he to-day that shreds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England no-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispins day.

I will miss our discussions about literature, about stories
– Sanders of the River

– The Washing of the Spears
– The Indian Rebellion
– Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee
…. And both of us badly reciting poetry

I will miss our chats of love, of women,

I will miss our chats of family and children

I will miss how we laughed about:
– Life, love, women and family
– How we laughed at each other…. And everyone else
– How we laughed about religion – I think most of us know Des’s opinion of who God was…. No man could be so cruel
– I will miss the irreverence….

…. And we would often say, even lament, “Life is often grave, but it need not be serious”

I will miss our beers together:
– Beers at the Pistol Club
– Beers in the Police Club
– Beers on the boat
– Beers out the back
– Beers in the lounge (the last lounge room on earth where you could smoke inside) 

I will miss our friendship…. as so many of you will:
– The old scholars of PAC
– The RSL
– Peter Alexander, Puk
– The men and women of the SAPPC
And all the friendships in the Police and throughout his working and travelling life. The friendships he had with his dogs – and the last, Kelly-Dog

Des’s friendships spanned the years, the generations, occupations, locations, adversity…. and the tyranny of time. Each of these friendships were personal.

Des was a man who if he was your friend, he asked for nothing, listened well, and through this, your life was somehow better. Many of us may not be able to specifically remember the last conversation we had with Des – but we will always remember the way he made us feel…..

Des never underestimated the finality and often futility of life – we would often discuss what appeared so often, to be people living a life oblivious to the only one certainty….

We spoke of it but Des was not like this – He knew that real happiness could be obtained by taking it as it comes, not taking it to seriously and always having time for a beer.

Des in the end didn’t have many possessions, but he surrounded himself with things that didn’t cost much but were of real value… his friends, his photographs, books, his Mum’s paintings. Des only ever used the word ‘JOY’ when he spoke of his children and especially his grandchildren… It is not the man who dies with the most toys that wins, it is the man who dies with the most joys.

Recently, I thought that we had discovered the words to sum up our muses, his sage advice and his counsel :

From Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale,
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury

Signifying…. nothing 

It would be at this time, at other funerals I have attended, that I would sit back down next to Des and he would lean over and whisper – “But we’re still here.”

Des Steele, was my friend.

I have lived, and will continue to live a better life, and perhaps be a better man, for having known him.

Des Steele was my friend.

And, I will miss him.

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Eulogy by Graham Puckridge

Desmond Luke Steele J.P. 11-7-1928 to 3-12 2014

Firstly thank you to all who have travelled long distances to be here. My name is Graham Puckridge and I have known Desmond Luke Steele and his Family for the last 35 years. It is a privilege and honour to be asked by his family to speak with you today about an incredible man who was a philosopher, a sage, a mentor, a raconteur, a confidante and above all a fantastic friend, Father, Grandfather and companion, to many of us here today.

Des was born at Wayville in 1928. He was one of two children and had a younger Sister Trish, who sadly passed on many years ago. His Father was a teacher at Prince Alfred College and so naturally Des attended Primary and Secondary school here. PAC has always been in his blood and it is fitting that we are holding his memorial in in this Chapel in the College, which was so special to him. To say Des was religious would be an overstatement. He described himself as being an agnostic who believed in divine malevolence. However, he liked to have an each way bet on religion and was always quick to point out that he won the scripture prize here at PAC and he could quote heaps of passages from the bible, none of which he practiced.

After PAC, Des went to Adelaide University where he started studying Medicine. I believe he started a couple times and I think he did about 3 years of medicine before leaving Uni. From what Des told me, he wasn’t the most dedicated student and was too easily distracted with the social side of Uni life.

In 1946, Des went to Darwin where he took up a job as a Registrar of Mines for the Northern Territory. He was responsible to the Commissioner of Mines and when not in Darwin he spent his service around Adelaide River and Rum Jungle. Darwin was still damaged from Japanese attacks and very much a wild frontier town still ravaged with bullet holes. He loved it and thrived on the carefree territory lifestyle. He played football and went shooting crocodiles and buffalo and developed a love of diving, spearfishing and the sea that has stayed with him all through his life. He has described to me how he loved to go diving on the many shipwrecks in Darwin Harbour.

He came back to Adelaide about 1952 and later married his first wife Betty, which produced Rowan and then Alana. He took up a Job in Nuriootpa with one of the wineries working in the Lab and then later moved to Port Pirie where he worked in the laboratories of the Smelters. One of the sayings he picked up in the Barossa locals, which has stayed with him all this time, was “Oh gosh, it is 11 o’clock already so soon already. Where’s the time gone.”

Des then worked as a Rep for a Drug Company called Upjohn, which saw him having to drive all over South Australia in a VW visiting Country Doctors to promote pharmaceutical products. A lot of the country roads were unsealed and he told me what a fantastic car the VW was and he loved to tear up the dirt roads in it. Often he caught up with Doctor’s he knew from his Uni days and would enjoy their hospitality. One occasion he was drinking in the local Pub with the Doctor, when he got called to do an emergency appendectomy. He grabbed Des, got him to put on a gown, scrub up and help him in surgery. He remembers the patient waking up half way through and having to administer chloroform or ether to get them knocked out again. They then rushed back to the Pub to get some beers in before 6 o’clock closing.

I am not sure of the year, but sadly Des and Betty separated and he later on married Roberta. That produced two more daughters, Amanda and Rebecca. Roberta has also travelled from Darwin to be with us here today.

Des took on a job as a Parole Officer with Correctional services. This brought him into contact with the Police and other Law Enforcement Organisations and was to be his chosen career until he retired in 1991.

Unfortunately Des and Roberta separated and Des met and married Cathy. Cathy already had a Son Matthew and Des took on Matthew as his own Son and has been an enduring father figure to him ever since.

All marriages are not made in heaven and Des and Cathy eventually parted ways about 1986. Des then started his long lasting relationship and deep friendship with Helen Michos, which has endured for the last 28 years. Helen’s Son Evan also has looked upon Des as a significant Father figure and mentor in his life and Des was very fond of Evan and his Daughter Hayley. So in a nutshell, Des Steele, 3 marriages, 6 children counting Evan, and 7 Grandchildren Jack, Ellie, Thomas, Amelia, Zack, Poppy and Halely, whom he loved dearly and his world revolved around. Des didn’t become a Grandfather until he was about 73 but often said his Grand children gave him so much Joy.

I first met Des about 1979, when he used to be a regular at the Police Club. He was always very friendly and sociable and loved a drink. Boy did he love a drink! He was a Senior Probation Officer at the Adelaide Gaol and he was very passionate supporter of the Police and C.I.B. in particular. I learned that Des was part of a Group called the Combined Investigators Association, which was a way all the Law Enforcement and Justice organisations networked and socialised together back then before computers, to exchange information, make the system work and get the job done. Through Des, I met a lot of useful contacts and friends in the Justice system many of whom are here today.

I moved to Kadina CIB in 1982 and Des and his children, Matthew, Amanda and Rebecca as well as Kelly dog one, where regular visitors on Friday nights and weekends when they used to go to Wallaroo for weekends fishing. Des had a V8 Valiant, which he used to call the “Ethnic Rolls Royce” and he would call in for a couple quick drinks with the boat on the way to Wallaroo and still be there near midnight. Jean and I eventually began to look forward to these nocturnal Friday night visits as Amanda, Rebecca and Matthew used to fuss over our young Son Brett and wheel him all over Kadina in his stroller until he went to sleep whilst we enjoyed cold frothies.

Des often took me fishing at Wallaroo. On one occasion, we were at Point Riley, it was dead calm and the water like glass. No fish were biting. We decided to go snorkelling and get some scallops. After we had been in the water for a while, we saw a huge school of garfish at the back of the boat. We got back in the boat and bagged out in no time. We returned to shore and went to the Wallaroo Hotel and Des said the fish would be okay and he would fillet them later. It wouldn’t take him too long as he had done a fish filleting course he said. Needless to say no fish got filleted that night and he awoke in the morning to the hum and buzz of blow flies trying to carry the boat and fish away. That’s when I first heard Des’s strategy for dealing with any problem. The ever reliable “F1. Not to worry it doesn’t matter.”

In 1984 the Kadina CIB started an Annual Xmas get together called the ‘Captains Night’ to thank those who had supported us during the year. This function eventually morphed into a fund raising event and ran for 27 years, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars for Yorke Peninsula charities. Des was a great supporter and only missed one year in 27, after a shoulder operation. He eagerly looked forward to it each year and everyone was always very happy to see him. When we used to leave Adelaide to drive up, as soon as we were out of the City limits, he would give a big sigh and say, “It’s all back there mate, I can feel it all dropping away.” He always loved a road trip anywhere and took any excuse to get away, especially to Yorke Peninsula. No trip to Yorke Peninsula was ever complete without a stop at Port Wakefield for a Pie or Pasty from the Bakery.

Des lived in his Family House at Young Street Wayville, just a short distance from the Show grounds. In 1988 he had to sell this home, which he loved dearly and I rented my vacant house at Westbourne Park to him on condition that I could use a room when I eventually shifted back to Adelaide in 1989. For about 6 months, myself and his two dogs Kelly one and Baron, were housemates. We had a lot of laughs. Talk about the odd couple.

Des used to get lamb off cuts from the butcher and cook them in the oven for the dogs. One night we arrived home from the pub peckish to find the fridge empty and two hungry dogs. The smell of the cooked lamb meat was too tempting so, in we hopped into the dogs dinner much to the look of disgust on both dog’s faces.

Another time I was cooking roast pork in the weber on the front verandah and the smell of the crackling had wafted down the street. Des could smell it as he walked up from the bus stop and was drooling at the mouth by the time he got in the gate. I had not even had a chance to do the veggies or gravy, but he didn’t care. He was famished and he got stuck into the meat and crackle like he hadn’t eaten for a week. The next day he was feeling off and went to his Family Doctor complaining of stomach pain. The Doctor who he had been at Uni with, poked and prodded, hummed and haa then sat down and wrote out the sick certificate for “ Fucking Gluttony”. The Doctor was smoking in the Surgery and Des said, “Give us a smoke Doc. No Des, they are bad for you.”

Des bought his current home at Clearview in 1989 and we moved him out there. We have kept in constant contact since then. He retired from Corrections in 1991 aged about 63 and took on the role of being a Pensioner. He was impressed by all the things he could get for free from the Government and he used them wisely. He also became a Justice of the Peace.

In the early nineties his daughter Alana was living in San Diego and Des did his first overseas trip to America to visit her. Des soon made friends with a man, whose Son was an Officer in the US Navy. He was privileged to tour the USS Chancellorsville and be treated to US Navy Hospitality. He was also a regular at the Mission Beach Golf Club bar where Alana used to work. He also made friends and contacts in the San Diego Police.

One of Des’s lifelong passions has been the old west, cowboy movies and western songs. He also had a fascination with Mexico and tried unsuccessfully to learn Spanish. I called it murdering the Spanish language, but he persevered. He did eventually achieve his dream to do a trip to Tombstone to tour the old west and Mexico, he even went to the bull fights.

When he returned he would try and impress everyone with his fluent Spanish and his favourite phrases;

Senor Lo siento, yo no sabía que ella era su hija

  • Sorry Senor, I didn’t know she was your daughter

por favor no me disparar Soy australiano

  • Please Don’t shoot me I am Australian

To this day his email name is Eldesso

Trips

I was fortunate to do many trips with Des. You couldn’t ask for a funnier person to go on a road trip with. His wit and humour kept me laughing and entertained. Des loved the British humour of Monty Python and all the ‘one liner’ gags that came out of it. Especially The Holy Grail and Life of Brian

  • In 2000 we travelled to Bunbury in Western Australia, to catch up with his US Navy mate Sean McLaren whom he had met in San Diego. We met the USS Higgins when it arrived in Bunbury and were privileged to spend a week with Sean on and off the ship. We got access to all areas that civilians would never be allowed to go and it was fascinating.
  • (USS Higgins – Sean McLaren. Nazi’s be bumped into, potato Nazi, forest Nazi, harbour Nazi, rogue locust.
  • Snotty bitch at function on ship Mayors wife.
  • In 2003 his friend Sean visited Brisbane in the USS Blue Ridge, so Des flew there to meet and spend time with him. He was treated like a king on the ship and again got access to all areas.
  • Pistol Club trips weekend Qantas cancelled all flights
  • Point Turton Caravan Park. Only same sex couple in caravan park. Grey nomad couples. “I bet the girls will have heaps of jobs lined up for us when we get home”.
  • Parsons Beach where he felt most at peace and shared so many happy times with his children and grand children.
  • Elliston/Venus Bay, Bairds Bay, Gawler Ranges (Jobby mounds)

 

Funny stuff

There are so many funny anecdotes I could tell that we would be here all day. So perhaps they are best left for later this afternoon when we have a few drinks and celebrate Des’s life in the way he would of wanted us to.

  • Telemarketers Indian telemarketer ringing his home. Hello Mr Steeley. How are you today Sir? No very well I am afraid. Just come back from the doctor and I have to take ……………….. bowels……….Thanks very much for ringing to see how I am.
  • Feigning dementia when getting phone calls from the Tax Office or Centrelink.
  • Garry Johnson’s 50th “I thought I was coming to a 50th not a beauty pageant”
  • Matthews wedding,   “I forgot how attractive you were.”

PASSIONS

Football, Motorcycles, Police Pistol Club, Small boat club, sailing The Alana, Enfield RSL, Fishing, The sea, The Police Club, His many Dogs including Kelly Dog,

The Family shack at Parsons beach, Reading

Parsons Beach was where he felt most at peace and shared so many happy times with his children and grand children.

Desisims

  • Fair component of fuck all
  • F1
  • It’s a wonderful thing we are doing
  • IGA and family court. Checkout guy. That is more than I got for my last visit to the Family Court.
  • Minlaton Bakery. Can you tell me my name and where I live
  • You need a new computer. Either that or a psychiatrist.
  • Indian sales man at door who lost his shoe and never came back.
  • Jehovah’s witnesses at front door. ‘Absolute Drama’
  • Oh you want sugar as well. I suppose you want Milk.

Apart from good times, Des has always been there for me through difficult and challenging times.

Operations

Des had a few Operations over his life. He had both knees replaced one in 1990 and one about 2006. He wasn’t a good patient and absolutely hated being in hospital.

  • After his last Knee Op the nurses found him wandering around Memorial hospital at night with no pants on trying to rescue everyone from train accident.
  • Memorial Hospital when he had his knee OP. He hated the hospital food and wanted me a to bring him a Villi’s pie. He sat there Munching it in ecstasy saying “Graham I can feel all the goodness going right through me, doing me good” I asked him about the cholesterol and he told me he couldn’t see any.
  • Bad patient. Nurses kept coming in and opening the curtains. He would get up and close them.

 

The Heart Valve

Last year Des was told he would have to have an Aortic valve replacement. As you can imagine he wasn’t happy about this, but fortunately he got on an experimental program to have this procedure done by catheter rather than thoracic surgery. After lots and lots of testing to see if he was suitable candidate and numerous delays, he finally had the procedure done in April this year. He was only in hospital about 10 days and the results were remarkable. He recovered quickly, looked and felt better, had more energy and I used the analogy that it was like dropping a new engine in an old Holden. I really thought he had dodged a bullet and got himself another 10 years. He was looking forward to the future and was even in the process of downsizing to a smaller home so he could enjoy life a bit more, with more financial choices and without the worries of home maintenance and upkeep. Sadly that hasn’t eventuated. Des wanted Sue and I to meet him to inspect a Unit he was looking at moving to last Tuesday but he never arrived. All I can tell you is that he passed away so quickly at home, that he would not of known anything about it. This is what he wanted. Des was absolutely terrified of having a stroke or some other ailment that meant spending his remaining years in a vegetative state.

Des had many dear friends from all walks of life and it would be impossible to acknowledge you all today, except to say you know who you are and how much you meant to him. I would however, like to specially thank Des’s neighbour and friend Ray Burman, who saw him nearly every day and was a great help to Des and a carer to Kelly Dog.

Des was funny, intelligent, irreverent and proudly politically incorrect and we loved him for that. His sense of humour and wit was incredible. In many ways Des was an 18 year old in an 86 year old body. He was an inspiration to us all that, that life is meant to be lived. It has been an honour to have shared so many years with Des on his journey through life. Addios Amigo and Rest In Peace mate. We will all miss you and Kelly Dog so very very much. Thank you.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Eulogy by Rowan Steele

Dad was born on the 11th July in 1928 at Wayville to James and Isla Steele.

He had one sister Patricia with which he had a typical brother/sister relationship. Sometimes teasing, sometimes competitive but always loving.

Grandad Steele was a teacher at Prince Alfred College and that’s where Dad went. He played footy for PAC and still caught up with old school mates at the reunions.

When Dad finished school he travelled up to Darwin as Registrar for Mines. Tales from the territory always provided us kids, and his friends with lots of entertaining stories.

He raced motorbikes up there for a while and became a bit of a local celebrity, not only for the enthusiastic way he embraced the Territory lifestyle but for his skills on an old BSA scrambler.

Back in Adelaide, Dad had a few jobs but the main one was Probation and Parole Officer for Correctional Services. Sometimes Dad could whinge for Australia but it was this job that he enjoyed the most, both on the job and all the friends he made (outside of the lock-ups of course).

In Adelaide, Dad met and married our mum. That’s where Alana & I came into the picture.

That wasn’t meant to be and after a while he met and married Roberta. They had two children and Alana and I scored two sisters, Amanda & Rebecca.

That wasn’t meant to be either and Dad eventually remarried again. This one really wasn’t mean to be but on the up-side it bought Matthew into our lives. Dad loved Matt with all his heart and adopted him into our family. Dad finally learnt his lesson and found some stability with Helen as his girlfriend.

All us kids had an atypical upbringing but I mean that in the best possible way and none of us would swap it for quids. We were always surrounded by dogs, motorbikes and a rough and tumble lifestyle that looking back on it always makes me smile and makes me feel the better for it. Most of us can remember seeing a bit too much when Dad would walk around the house in his lap-lap or in a pair of speedos with the elastic gone out of it. That’s why in later years we got him board shorts to wear around the house and on the boat.

Dad loved life, loved a laugh, loved women, loved a beer, loved his kids and his grand-kids, loved his mates, loved pouring money into his boats (well maybe not loved that part) and of course he loved Kelly-dog.

All of you here have your stories of shared good times with Dad and he’d be stoked you came here to pay your respects. He’d also want you not to be upset. We all loved Dad and have some great memories we’ll keep with us. That’s exactly what Dad would want. He’d want everyone to remember the times they shared with a smile, a laugh and a beer.

If anyone is keen, we’ll be heading back to the old Police Club in Carrington Street for some beers, laughs and storytelling.

Lastly, I just want to thank you all for coming today and finish off by quoting Dad:

“It’s a wonderful thing we’re doing”.

Love you pop.

 

Better at Standing in Lines

I have been trying lately to sit down and spend a few hours, even though I would settle for minutes, to catch up on all my writing including making a blog post.

But as I have so often said life got in the way while I was making other plans.

This morning I was travelling to visit my Mum who is very old and sick to spend some time with her. The traffic as usual was conspiring against me.

I finally stopped at a service station just before arriving at Mum’s to get a drink and of course buy cigarettes (please disregard all my previous blog posts about giving up as none of them appear to have bedded themselves in as a permanent part of my life!)

I walked inside and realised for once that there was no line at the cash register and onlyEFM-no-more-waiting-in-line-1024x307 one woman in front of me – who incidentally I had opened the door for and allowed to walk into the store in front of me (as I have said before – no good deed goes unpunished!).

She approached the counter and proceeded to check and then put back on, her cross lotto tickets for the last 100 years.  It suddenly dawned on me that I was in the scene from the video “This is Water” where it is not about being in the line, but being in a world that I realised doesn’t revolve around me.

BANG!  Thanks how long it takes to change your attitude to being in line.  Yes, I wanted to get my stuff and go and visit Mum.  Yes, it was annoying that she was putting all these cross lotto’s on when I was in the line behind her.  Yes, the line was growing behind me and I somehow felt responsible.  Yes, I did think about just walking out because after all I had been waiting for 3 minutes.  But, BANG!  I decided to not worry about it and enjoy the experience of waiting in line…..  I think I actually smiled.

Finally after much discussion about cross lotto, the very patient guy behind the counter said, ‘There you go love all fixed’ and handed her tickets to her.  The world is a wonderful place because instead of stepping away as I thought she was going to (I was in the leaning forward about to take a step position) she said, ‘Now, I just need to order a couple of coffees.’  The moan of the people who had lined up behind me, now about 8, was thunderous – two walked out.  I actually laughed out loud.

I have decided that I am going to pick the longest lines from now on.  I will have no expectation that I will be served, or enter, or be greeted in any time soon.  I will just enjoy the wait.

Does it really matter, no.  If you said yes, I say, really?

I think being better at waiting in line will make me a better man.

Better at Scams

I have seen a lot of people over the years get ripped off.  The funny thing is that on most occasions the person getting ripped off at one stage or another says “Yeah, it didn’t feel quite right, but…..”

I used to tell my follow workers and especially my kids – if it doesn’t feel right it probably isn’t.  I think our intuition is more reliable than we give it credit.

I think in modern society the definition of scam could be extended a fair bit to include a lot of things, like infomercials, telly marketers as well as the outright scam merchants.

Below I have included the email trail of someone who I just suspected was a scam artist.

Before I go onto that I thought I should mention that I actually love telly marketers.  My wife cringes when I answer or take her phone when they are calling.  Sorry, but I didn’t ask them to call, I don’t know them and they probably are trying to sell me something I didn’t ask for.  I have a few strategies.  The first two are from my father in law and the last which is from a youtube clip I listened to once.

“Hello is (your name) there?”

the answer is……

  1. Sorry he’s dead – they hang up.
  2. Sorry, he’s in gaol – they hang up.
  3. Say it is you and chat for ages going off on tangents until after it gets really confusing advise them you are (your name) senior and you must be looking for your son who manages all that for you – they hang up or ask when he will get home – talk for 10 minutes about your son and then tell them he is overseas and you are in respite – they hang up.
  4. Say it is you and sound really interested and book an appointment – finally tell them you have to make sure the TV room isn’t book and that you will get everyone there for their lecture in the Nursing Home – they hang up.
  5. If they are from an electricity company selling their new plan – talk over them saying you know you haven’t paid your bill and want to get it organised – even when they get the chance to explain why they called go straight back to telling them you will pay it tomorrow – yell at your partner/house mate in the background about losing the money on the pokies.  Even right at the end when you stop and listen to their sales pitch reply “Look I am really sorry but I can’t pay the bill at the moment, is there some sort of payment plan you can put me on” – they hang up.
  6. (My favourite) Ask how they know (Your Name) and tell them they have rung a crime scene and You have been murdered and start questioning them about how they know You – keep talking to CSI and the Detectives in the back ground including getting a trace on the phone – get them to tell you where they are and tell them to stay there as the local authorities are coming to get their statement – if they don’t hang up, you do!!!

So, have fun with that as I did and do.

I advertised a car for sale on Gum Tree the other day and as a result had the following initial text exchange and then email exchange. (I think it’s a scam!!)  Hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed doing it.

 

On 26 Oct 2014, at 4:08 pm, Ian Wrote:
Veh is good condition all round. Price as advertised. Many enq.

On 26 Oct 2014, at 4:19 pm, mike joe <mrjoeisonline2@gmail.com> wrote:
Thanks for mailing back, am ok with the price and the condition,i work with New Zealand Oil and Gas (NZOG) and we are presently offshore in New Zealand Taranaki Basin on kupe project.We do not have access to phone at the moment,its 15days off and 15days on and that’s why I contacted you with internet messaging facility.Regarding the payment,i will be paying you through PayPal,please get back to me with your paypal details so i can process the payment,you can alternatively send your bsb and acct number if you have no PayPal acct.I have also contacted my courier who will come for pick up and deliver it to my place in Darwin after the whole fund has been cleared into your acct.  Await your reply

On 26 Oct 2014, at 5:14 pm, Ian wrote:
If you are going to buy the car unseen there are a few thing you need to know:

  1. It was previously used by my step son (who I am selling if for as he is in Gaol) in a series of armed robberies. It was a wanted vehicle but that has all been fixed up with the Police now.
  2. It used to belong to my mother in law and she unfortunately committed suicide in the car (she gassed herself with the exhaust so there is no mess) and that is how my step son inherited the car (which of course is how all the trouble started!) – I thought I should tell you as some people are superstitious!
  3. The stereo although very good with the sub woofer in the back is stuck on a country and western station – we don’t mind this as we are avid line dancers, but some people just don’t like country and western.
  4. I would prefer if you could transfer the money in Rand (do you know when they stopped calling it Krugerrand because I thought that was really cool in the Lethal Weapon movies when they all fell on the deck – remember that diplomatic immunity line!!!)  as we are thinking of traveling to South Africa next year and this would really help in us saving the money and avoiding tax.

I hope work is going okay, I know what it is like to work remotely in mining as I once had to dig a hole at Mount Lofty.  Let me know what you think about the deal. I have had an offer for $2500 as two guys came to see the car today and started arguing with each other, I had to call the Police as they started fighting, one called back and said he would pay $2500 but said he couldn’t come up with the money until her did a job on Monday. He said it was a good bank job. I am not sure if I trust him like I do you, a fellow miner!
Hope this works out.

On 26 Oct 2014, at 5:20 pm, mike joe <mrjoeisonline2@gmail.com> wrote:
Alright thanks for your response and been honest, you can get back to me with your bank details so i can make the payment asap, and once the money is cleared into your bank account my agent will be coming with all necessary document and will also sign the paper works on my behalf.

(Glad my honesty in acknowledged and that he actually replied – I was getting suspicious at this stage….)

On 26 Oct 2014, at 6:57 pm, Ian wrote:
Sounds good.
The car will be ready on Tuesday as I have to use it on Monday in a reenactment of the Redex Rally in far North Queensland.  I will make sure all the Esso decals are removed by then.
Can you name a place to meet as I am currently in the witness protection program and my address is a matter of national security.
I don’t have a pay pal account but can you suggest a name I could use to set it up?
Can you send cash or have your courier bring it. I could leave the keys under a nominated pot plant in the front yard and he could just leave the money and take the car. It’s just that I might be out as during the week I sky dive a lot. Plus, I trust a fellow miner!
I also have a manikin’s hand for sale, which also belonged to my son (he doesn’t need it as he says people where he is have there hands all over him – do you know what felching is?)
I trust you, is the cash idea okay?
Your friend in Australia!!!!!

(I thought the above might have been a bit much, but what the hell lets see how far he’ll go.  When he didn’t reply, I just couldn’t let it go…)

On 27 Oct 2014, at 1:06 pm, Ian Schlein Gmail <ianschlein@gmail.com> wrote:
Hey Joe,  I cancelled the trip for today with the car.  Are you still interested.  That guy keeps ringing offering $2500 but he rings reverse charges and the last time he called he said it was his one phone call and could I lend him money!  I have decided as I trust you, to reduce the cost to $2000 as I have messed you around a bit.
I am really desperate now as the dialysis machine for my wife broke down and I am having to pump it by hand (that’s why my typing is a bit bad as I have to use one hand to type and pump with the other…. sorry!)
Get back to me as fast as possible!!!!
PS: I don’t think I mentioned the problem with decontamination after the meningococcal out break at the burnout competition I took the car to last week, but that’s not a problem now.
PPS:  Apologies but I sold the hand.

(You wont believe this but he replied!!!! – Maybe he was glad I didn’t go on the rally!!)

On 27 Oct 2014, at 1:29 pm, mike joe <mrjoeisonline2@gmail.com> wrote:
am still interested

On 27 Oct 2014, at 5:00 pm, Ian wrote:
Great!
The guy who offered me $2500 came around today and I had to call the Police again!!
I told them about selling the car to you and they said it could be a scam!   I don’t think so as you are a fellow miner like me!!!  I know it gets lonely mining, I had a special sock, it helps.
I can get the deal done now as my wife is getting better: our son got out for the day and he is taking care of the pumping.
The problem is my son came home with a bag of cash that he said was his ‘cut.’ He asked me to take care of it. As you are off shore could I leave it in your account. You can then send me half of the money as payment for the car and you can keep the rest.  Of course the sale price will have to go up hundreds of percent so it isn’t suspicious to the authorities for tax purposes. That way the money will be clean!!!!
It is a LOT of money… $$$$$$$$
Of course you still get the car.
What do you think?

 

(I’ll let you know if he replies again, I just had to share this now as it was getting too good – feel free to send him emails!!!)

Better a Racist

Well here I go, ready to be slammed, labeled, ostracised and abused.  (I don’t know wether to say sorry in advance or apologise?)

I just watched ‘Gran Torino’ the movie with Clint Eastwood that has more racial vilifications and politically incorrect moments than the David Chappelle Show or a Steady Eddie comedy routine or the latest (not funny) comedy show on SBS Legally Brown.  But, I have worked out that any comedy routine is okay and funny (even if it’s not) if you do it about yourself, or your own race (no matter how stereotypical the joke), or your disability, or your sex…. Just don’t have no white man doing no black joke or misogynistic joke or visa versa!  (I used the word misogynistic just to let you know that if you are a man do not do woman jokes – no matter how funny, I’m taking even if they hilarious – as it means that now and for ever more you hate women, and discriminate against them, and suppress them… be warmed).

Of course, I was thinking about all this after Gran Torino and watching the football a few weeks ago where the biggest story of the day was calling for the heads of players who had ‘defaced’ a poster of two players with the highly scandalous comments of ‘going to the Mardi Gras’ or similar…. The details really aren’t important. I thought it was funny, as it was.

What is important is that I am a white Anglo Saxon male, and it’s probably my fault anyway.

I am sometimes ashamed and often confused at my whiteness.

I read up on political correctness, as I realised not being politically correct was somehow all my fault. In my reading I started to think perhaps it was not created how I thought: perhaps it was not even what I thought. I also wondered how come there are all these politically incorrect jokes, which I think are sometimes really funny, still being created that don’t actually destroy society. Below (I understand if you want to skip it) is the history of political correctness and to tell you the truth – I don’t get how we got from that to this? (sometimes I don’t even know what this is?):

    • Historically the term “politically correct” was used disparagingly, to refer to someone whose loyalty to the Communist Party line overrode compassion, and led to bad politics. It was used by Socialists against Communists, and was meant to separate out Socialists who believed in egalitarian moral ideas from dogmatic Communists who would advocate and defend party positions regardless of their moral substance. Reference – “Uncommon Differences”, The Lion and the Unicorn Journal
    • In the 1970’s according to one version, political correctness actually began as an in-joke on the left: radical students on American campuses acting out an ironic replay of the Bad Old Days BS (Before the Sixties) when every revolutionary groupuscule had a party line about everything. They would address some glaring examples of sexist or racist behaviour by their fellow students in imitation of the tone of voice of the Red Guards or Cultural Revolution Commissar: ‘Not very “politically correct”, Comrade!’ Reference – Hall, S. (1994) “Some ‘Politically Incorrect’ Pathways Through PC”
    • In the 1990’s political correctness is one of the brilliant tools that the American Right developed in the mid–1980s, as part of its demolition of American liberalism…. What the sharpest thinkers on the American Right saw quickly was that by declaring war on the cultural manifestations of liberalism – by levelling the charge of “political correctness” against its exponents – they could discredit the whole political project. —“Words Really are Important, Mr Blunkett”, The Observer (16 December 2001)

I also note that not being politically correct often is used to exclude groups from things, a sort of discrimination for everyone except the minority. But, I wondered considering the above brief and probably not totally correct history if in fact political correctness and racism are both things that we don’t understand.

I was thinking, that surely thinking is a matter for me and only saying or doing can possibly be something wrong, well at least as viewed by the rest of the world as opposed to someone reading my mind.

I got to thinking about my career and realised that I had been called a ‘white cunt’ more times than I had publicly vilified another race, which when I think about it is never. I think about the time I have discriminated against another person, for any reason, and there is a void of examples.

I got to thinking about the time I was having a smoke and was asked by a group of Aboriginal people for one and said I had just popped down from my office with one, and sorry I didn’t have any others. I was called a white cunt, abused and threatened with violence. I rang the Police and the abuser was arrested. I was approached by one of the group afterwards and asked very politely why I had called the Police and I told them. They said they were very sorry it had happened. They stood there for a moment, obviously thinking, and then said, if I hadn’t invaded their country in the first place, and made them speak English, then I couldn’t have been sworn at and I should be ashamed of being a Captain Cook invader. I couldn’t argue with that and went back to my office. I was confused as I did somehow feel guilty. Should my guilt be more than a passing thought or should I be ashamed.

I got to thinking about all the things I am ashamed of for being white.

  • I am ashamed of the Anagu Pitjantjajara Yankunytjatjara (APY) Lands. If you have been there you will know that it is a third world country in the middle of our country and we ignore it.  Also if you only say APY and can’t pronounce the full title – perhaps you should be ashamed.
  • I am ashamed of not being able to identify the difference between sorry and an apology. I am sorry a lot of things happened but how do I apologise for things that happend before I was born and I had no control over. I am more sorry because I have worked on the APY lands.
  • I am ashamed I have never been in a mosque, an Australian Hindu or Buhdist temple, a Synagogue and lately a church.
  • I am ashamed that languages are lost, stories are lost and history is forgotten.
  • I am ashamed I speak only one language.
  • I am ashamed that I don’t know any boat people.
  • I am ashamed that our country is so vast and yet so empty.
  • I am ashamed that maybe the wars the we fought didn’t give us the results they were fought for, other than victory.
  • I am ashamed of multiculturalism, because I don’t know what it means.  I don’t know what Australian culture is either, is it multicultural or are we multi cultures living separate in the one country.  Am I part of the multi cultural society as my ancestors were German or am I Australian – am I an oppressor, an invader?  I cant remember doing any of those thing though? I sorry my ancestors came here and who should I apologise to?

I suppose I could do something, so I am, I am writing this and putting my name to it.

I am saying three men walk into a bar, and they are friends and they take the piss out of each other, because that is being Australian; yet none of them were born in Australia.

I watch the movie ‘They’re a Weird Mob‘ and am grateful that there is no more ‘six o’clock swill’ and laugh at the stereotypes of the era, who when I come to think about it, built our country.

I wonder why ‘Gran Torino’ wasn’t banned and realise it is a movie about values not racism or vilification or hurt feelings.

I want a more peaceful life, but it is often too complicated and filled with messages I don’t understand anymore: perhaps I am just getting to the same point as Walt in Gran Torino. It was what I wrote about What is Being a Man, well, my definition of being a man.   But, it is not about being a man, it is about being part of the human race. It is so much about what we say and not what we do, that in the end we say nothing and do nothing.

Can white men really jump. We can jump to conclusions, we can also jump to the defence of others, we can also jump out of the way and let it all happen because we’ll get blamed for it anyway. Sorry.

I have decided that being a racist, or politically incorrect are not the same thing. I am politically incorrect, but I am also Australian and we give everyone…. Read that everyone, a fair go. That fair go is also about giving it to ourselves, along with an entire diatribe of genuine, heartfelt, witty, funny piss taking.

Call me a ‘snowflake’ a ‘Captain Cook’ a ‘white cunt’ and I’ll reckon you must be a mate, an Australian, as no body takes the piss as good as we do.

But, discriminate against my mate, suppress my mate, threaten my mate, take away my mate’s stuff, hurt my mate and I will defend their wurlie, their tent, their igloo, their adobe, their home…. I will stand by their side and fight for them with all that is mine against any foe.

After all, I am Australian and when we are not taking the piss out of each other we are usually fighting side by side…. And even then we are taking the piss out of each other!

Just one last thing. I am truly sorry. I am sorry that in trying to become a better man I still find it necessary to want the rest of the world to be better as well, albeit accompanied by a good long piss take without filling in a hurt feelings report!

I think I will be a better man by paying more attention to what people do and not what they say: sticks and stones and all that…..

Better Happy Posts

I like lots of things about Facebook.  I like the way you can connect with old friends that without Facebook you would never have been able to find.  That you can share your holidays and family photographs with each other.  That you can even have a whinge and on occasions share a pointless post (usually in my case because I have had a few too many wines) or a picture of your dinner!

I like the occasional stalking of a friend, or a friend of a friend – and the obligatory stalking of my children (and their friends who are leading them astray!).Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 3.22.20 pm

I think Facebook does connect us.

But, I think it also lures us into the perfect world of meaningful social contribution on Facebook that we are unable to translate into the connections we are supposed to be having in the real world.

I think this is most obvious in the heartfelt sayings, insightful interpretations of life, or the sage like advice that are shared, reshared, tweeted and plastered all over our daily Facebook walls.  I find it hard to accept that I need to share a post to show I love my children, country, mother, brother etc etc.  In addition I find it hard to accept that Facebook is like a warm electronic hug from the enlightened social media set, yet my most meaningful interactions I have outside Facebook with people under 20 other than my kids, is when I asked  ‘would you like fries with that!”

Again, I love Facebook as a new way that it lets us find each other, stay in touch and share our lives.  But, I love it as an enhancement to my life not a substitute

2014-07-31 Facebook Mum SayingHow about my ‘happy post’ for today?

It is just that we are a long time dead yet we go about our lives as if we are immortal, or more to the point, those that we are not spending our time with, will have time enough tomorrow for us to catch with at our leisure (when all the other really important stuff in life is done!)

I made a photo book after my Dad died and in the back I put the following caption.

The other day I was trying to explain to the kids what were the important things in life and knowing the ‘value’ of something.  I said I would be happy to have no job, no house, no possessions except the clothes I was wearing and perhaps a tooth brush in my back pocket. I would give it all away, all my ‘things’ to spend 1 minute with my Dad.  I told then if I could do this, I would, with no regrets.  I miss him as much today as I did all those years ago.  I now attempt to honour him by living a life that would make him proud…. and sometimes when I falter, I know he would understand, forgive me and know (which is all he ever expected on any of us) I am doing my best.  I love my Dad and I miss him.

I was chatting today with a friend who’s Mother recently died and we had the conversation that only we could have.  It is the one that tells us that we now know that the finite life is finite and when it ends, it just does.  No profound long goodbyes or settlement of lifes questions.  It is just the end which you measure not mostly on the last day but on all the other days.

I think a ‘happy post’ should be said out loud and it should start something like this:

“Hi, I just thought I’d ring to say hello”

“Hi, just thought I’d drop in for a visit to see how you’re going”

“Sure I’ve got time for a chat, lets get a coffee right now”

One of my ‘better man’ mantra’s is to write about my life.  Perhaps in addition to that I should be writing a few more letters, a few more cards and to steal a famous quote from the movie Avatar, say to my friend and family “I see you” and for it to be literally.