Losing my touch-nology?
January 7, 2009
Sometimes i notice that things go wrong in a funny way. My bike and my car always seem to break down at the same time. Or i hit my head on a cupboard door three times in the same day.
Lately i’ve had a bad time with technology:
- i bought a pair of “noise-cancelling” headphones at Singapore airport .. not even as good as my ordinary headphones;
- got my phone unlocked so i could use a Cambodian sim card .. but forgot to back up the phone numbers, which disappeared;
- i left my bag unattended on the bus, and later on discovered my cherished iRiver mp3 player was gone (with the top notch Sennheiser headphones that don’t cancel noise, just give good sound);
- dropped my beautiful new snap-happy digicam .. and one corner of the view screen is all cracked and black;
All my own doing .. nobody to blame.
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But .. i must remember to look on the bright side, put all this into perspective .. because i have sustained no physical injuries. i’m firmly attached to my limbs, my heart and my brain.
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Gadgets are just bits of metal and plastic aren’t they. Nothing compared to a beating heart, a thriving brain .. and a valiantly surviving liver. No point getting attached to material objects .. this is a Buddhist country after all. Got to remember to breathe in the joy of being alive. Yah.
photo credit: lotje
Firecracker hell
January 6, 2009
This was meant to be an island paradise getaway. A heavenly new year, with friends on the beach. After the mild dramas of travelling by bus to Sihanoukville (Lauli and her buddies went the day before; Jem and her friends found their pre-booked tickets had been sold, i was worried about having to charter a boat on my own) .. we were all looking forward to a chilled-out party on the beach.
There was bbq action, dance music, stories and balancing on a swing over the sand.
Lovely.
Bang.
A loud silence, then some shouts and that awful feeling of not knowing what’s happened. Followed by the sickening feeling of discovering what has happened.
Someone’s let a very big firecracker off in his own face.
Shanny’s seen the whole thing close up and looks like she’s about to pass out. “He’s blown his face off! Have you seen Phil?”
i still feel a bit sick and shocked from the events of the evening. This was about 11pm local time. Celebrations were clearly off the agenda. People milled around wondering how to help. Several people did help, giving first aid, painkillers, calling the mainland, deciding whether to call for a boat or pray for an airlift direct to Bangkok.
16 hours later, Yuma made it to Bangkok. But the reports aren’t good.
Still on life support. Not yet stable.
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Prayers welcome .. angelic support appreciated.
cycling good fortune
December 22, 2008
i’ve been very lucky with the bike lately.
The front gear thing was out of whack. (The derailleur.) So i took it along to Lygon Cycles, where they said .. “oh, you want a service? Well everything needs replacing, so it’ll cost you around $360.”
“But you can get a new bike for around $400.”
Ouch. Not so convenient. i start looking for new bikes, and the one i want is over $1000. Maybe i’ll budget for that.
..in the meantime.. i take the bike down to Ceres on a Saturday morning and have a go at fixing the derailleur myself. The great thing about Ceres is that if you try to mend it yourself, eventually an expert will swing by and give you advice .. or in my case, roll their eyes, take the tool and do it themselves.
But within a couple of weeks, the thing’s broken again in a different place, proving the Lygon people correct. i’m riding around in the lowest gear imaginable, my legs pumping 3 times faster than they should.
Then one day i’m riding along the Bicycle Highway (Canning St.) into the Edinburgh Gardens, and there’s a couple of people with a sign saying “Free Bike Maintenance”. What about that for good luck!
“Are you with Ceres?” i ask.
“No, just a couple of nutters,” the guy replies.
“Speak for yourself,” his partner cuts in ..
Within a few moments, he’s done an emergency procedure, told me about the best bike shop in Melbourne (under the Richmond station .. lots of second hand parts he says), and given my pedal power back to me.
i feel so much better on the roads now.
Thank you heavenly bike-mending angels !!
(So, now i’m looking for more bike stories. What about you post one on your blog, and link back here .. or leave me a comment? Where’s the worst place you’ve broken down? etc. Hello, x
totally excited about family christmas
December 12, 2008
More than i have been in a long time, i’m totally excited about family christmas.
woohoo!
Margot, katie and michael .. in Pnomh Penh, soaking up the magnificence of Cambodia.
i can’t wait ;-]
Generosity overcomes a gloomy sky
June 20, 2008
The skies were gloomy, but that didn’t stop one incredibly generous commuter giving away her ticket for free, in Melbourne today.
i was getting on the tram, in Elizabeth St, very near the whole Melbourne Central experience, when a woman thrust out her hand and gave me a ticket. “Want a ticket?” she said.
Woah! Hang on, where is the brainspace for this kind of activity? i’m not sure i can cope!! An Australian citizen freely handing out tickets? This Two-Hour Ticket had about 2 hours left on it too. And the tram was swarming with inspectors.
How generous, how lovely, how utterly delectably sweet. Thanks to that angelic lady.
photo credit: specialkrb
Sheffield Murals
February 15, 2008
Public art is more popular in Tasmania than i realised. Here’s a whole town that devoted itself to supporting local artists by painting murals on every available surface (Sheffield, slightly East of Cradle Mountain).
And i caught a picture of this very strange dog. I thought it must have been an elaborate kind of poodle. “Look at this dog,” i said to Tim. “You idiot, that’s an Alpaca,” he replied. Oh, yes i see that now.
Plus, this little valley called Wilmot, on the way to Cradle Mountain, has an abundance of Gorgeous Quirky letterboxes; and even a mural, celebrating said boxes.
(image links to larger version)
You’ll see on the map, that Sheffield is right near a place called Promised Land.
photos from Tasmania
February 5, 2008
Here’s my collection of photos from Tasmania (selected). Or, view via flickr (slideshow).
Oh this flickr slideshow might be better..
comments welcome
kthxbye
Traffic in Phnom Penh
February 3, 2008
i thought the traffic was mad in Phnom Penh .. and it is! Bikes traveling along only centimetres from other cars and tuk-tuks. People weaving in and out of traffic as though it’s a giant tapestry.
To cross the road, you just walk into the traffic. Bikes and cars move around you. Terrifying at first, until you get used to it.
Lauli described it as a giant stream full of many schools of fish. You need to learn to go with the flow.
Then i realised that the whole stream is moving at around 20-30kmh .. and actually the drivers are all really good at managing tight situations.
They drive slowly enough to be able to change course instantly. It helps that most people are on pushbike or moto .. you’re totally aware of everyone around you. Not cocooned and separate in a car.
No way would Australians drive slowly enough to manage this traffic.
When we got out of the city onto the open road, our driver hit 60kmh and it felt unbelievably fast. Oh, then you see the buses driving down the middle of the road at high speed. Now that really is mad.
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photo credit: thejonoakley
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Murdunna Mur-what?
February 1, 2008
i’d never heard of Murdunna, but now i know it’s a beautiful part of an unbelievably gorgeous world. These Tasmanians have got something really special going on, i’m telling you.
Well it’s on the Tasman Peninsula, so like the rest of us Australians they’re not always 100% imaginative with the naming. But “Murdunna” that’s .. experimental innit?
Thanks so much Julie and Annie for hosting me and my tent. Really lovely to hang out with you and the kids.
World’s best fish and chip shop – who would have thunk it? Huge tubs with exotic fish swimming about. No photos, darn!
beware of crocodiles
December 7, 2007
Delightful friends, i gotta say that .. That infamously strange hotel experience was not the sum of my travel time in Cairns, nor did it epitomise the overall joy and usefulness.
As well as working for the community engagement project, hosting an online conference session and presenting a work project at the adult learning australia conference
.. i went SnoRkelling on the Reef!
Yay for SnoRkelling! On my birthday i went to Green island and dived headlong into the reef. Covered up in a huge lycra body suit to protect against the stingers and lice, i gazed in bliss at the totally gorgeous, wondrous underwater panoramas. Mmm, delicious and delightful. Yum. i could have snorkelled all night, um .. day.
Cairns is a beautiful place, especially when you get out of town. Rainforest, reef, tropical rivers .. my time was a bit too work-focussed, so i was mostly indoors and in the city.
i’ve never seen a city beach more abandoned .. perhaps because of the “Beware of Crocodiles” signs. One person walking on the beach in ten days. Thousands strolling along the promenade.
Amazing history panels. Turns out there used to be a fabulous beach with stunning sand dunes, but dredging in the 1930′s destroyed all that. Need for shipping channels etc. (Are you paying attention, Victorian govt? no, i guess not.)
i also caught up with the very amazing Avril Duck who is a theatre director up in Gordonvale. Avril used to live and study in Melbourne; she’s preparing for a play in 2008 focussing on the experiences of local parents. The other week they had a reading on the radio. Sounds good .. perhaps i can post a copy here.
And look, i carried a book around with me the whole week (yes, that book), and i was often wearing my iRiver mp3 player, with wires hanging off me everywhere. In very many places people glanced at me with no suspicion whatsoever, just the friendly happy-go-lucky Cairns vacant gaze. Lovely place .. i’d go there again.
thanks for reading,
xo michael
by the way, this video made me laugh:
(images: thanks to richard ling and melilab at flickr)
That Cairns Pub Story
November 16, 2007
When i went dancing in that hotel in Cairns, i really didn’t think too much about the consequences. But i did think about how people might perceive me – a fortyish male caucasian on my own. So i tried to be discreet, non-threatening .. not stare at anyone.
i moved about on the dancefloor for four or five songs.
(Including Dexy’s Midnight Runners, and Billie Jean. Okay, i was desperate for nightlife. i was on my own in a strange city. i was feeling a bit lonely and uncomfortable. But trying to look cool and relaxed about it.)
Then i stood to the side of the dancefloor watching the action for maybe three songs. Again, trying to be unobtrusive.
Whoops! It didn’t work. Somehow i came across to some people as potentially threatening, and the bouncer asked me to leave, saying that several patrons had complained about the book i was carrying. When story hit the front page those patrons wanted their say too.
Now i find out it wasn’t just the book.
Different Perspectives
Some of the patrons from that night are now upset at being labelled paranoid. They say that they saw a man “behaving strangely”, and that they felt intimidated. These people saw
- wires coming out of a man’s pocket (my mp3 player and headphones),
- a waist pouch (with my sunglasses),
- and a book with “the T word” on its cover (novel by Richard Flanagan).
They saw a man standing motionless on the dancefloor for twenty minutes ..
(that really baffles me. i’m sure i was dancing vigorously, and i meant to be friendly, but in my own space – intending fully to respect other people, not intrude on anyone else’s fun.
(Anyone who’s seen me on a dancefloor would be puzzled by that one. The reason i hit the dancefloor was because it was active. Usually i’m the one who gets up first, and starts other people going.)
Other people were also asked to leave
At the moment that the bouncer (#181) came up and moved me to the pavement, i was wondering whether to leave or to have another dance ..
.. because i’d just seen an Indigenous woman escorted out the door. She’d been dancing too. A very funky dancer, she was striking in appearance. Recalling the moment, I realise now that i did stare pointedly around me at that moment. i was stunned. This woman had also been dancing on her own, very well. She was well dressed and good looking. She looked to me like a good and interesting person.
i somehow leapt to the conclusion that she was asked to leave because she was “too black”. If that were true, then this was not the kind of hotel i wanted to dance in.
At that moment i stared around me in shock, trying to fathom why this had happened. i was outraged at the possibility that my conclusion could be right. i did stare at people then, wondering why everyone had let this black woman be kicked out for no reason.
Perhaps other people saw this “staring” behaviour as strange and confronting. Perhaps this cemented the suspicions that had been growing in their mind.
- A man who looks different,
- who has wires coming out his pocket,
- who has a pouch around his waist and
- a book with the T word on the cover,
- as well as long frizzy black hair,
- who stares, indignantly.
Clear signals, to someone on the lookout. Someone who feels threatened by the world of difference. Someone who perhaps doesn’t notice an Indigenous woman being kicked out of the pub.
Atmosphere of fear
i’ve got to say that i think labelling people paranoid could be a mistake. i always thought Keating’s biggest mistake was to abuse his opponents, rather than lead them to a better place. People do get afraid, and their minds can leap to unfair conclusions. Abusing or making fun of people who feel threatened, or are in the grip of fear, is perhaps not the best approach.
This culture we live in has been brought to the point of hysterical frenzy, and individuals are not immune from these emotional currents. Most people don’t have much protection against the pressure-cooker emotions of the mass media, or from politicians who seek to embed their power by preying on those fears. i too have looked at strangers in bars and found myself wondering.
We urgently need leaders who can empathise and allay people’s fears, while at the same time evolving our understanding and our behaviour, sensibly and responsibly.
Personally i feel vulnerable and disturbed. Now i know how easy it is for people to get the wrong idea.
Just what the book is all about.
(image: thanks for “is that an iPod in your pocket by thespacesuitcatalyst at flickr)
byron sun brings much joy
October 16, 2007
How delightful is the sun! When you haven’t had a holiday in over a year, there is truly nothing like a work-sponsored trip to Byron Bay. Yes i am the luckiest person alive, no doubt about that. Here’s the whole story:
- got bitten by a tick the very first night, and it still hurts three weeks later (on my ear)
- went to a super boring cultural evening, where the local singers all had US accents
- narrowly avoided a brown snake crawling across my sarong
- drove my hire car for 200km along unsealed roads (trying not to read the ‘thou shalt not’ sticker prominent on the windscreen), then later took all the wheels off to sweep out the tell-tale orange dust
- went to the most outrageously stupid ‘rainbow gathering’
- watched really bad cable tv
on the plus side
- saw whales and dolphins frolicking all over the shop, pretty much parading down the main street
- sat in on new enrolments at the Byron Community Centre
- had a whole cabin to myself for days on end
- walked fifteen kilometres along Belongil Beach to Brunswick Heads, and back in a day
- bought organic carrots in the Mullumbimby grocery
- swam in blissfully cold mountain springs in the Washpool National Park. mmmmm that was good.
so i came back, brown all over, with knotted hair, and in a very tranquil state, but in need of a strong cultural fix. Lou suggested a gig down at Glitch bar on the Sunday night, just as i got off the plane. Enclosed in a small dingy dark bar in north fitzroy surrounded by strange young people wearing black and making weird musical noises .. i felt so at home.
conversations across the world
August 27, 2006
So Paul and Fiona left the wintry shores of Melbourne and headed to a small fishing village on the Atlantic, to become fishermen. It had been their dream for a long time, and they looked forward to the opportunity to hit the high seas during major storms.
no, wait Halifax isn’t a fish, it’s a university town. (i’m thinking Halibut with Gravlax)
Sorry .. so the Martini-Maher bunch departed the cloudy village of Melbourne, and headed off to enjoy a huge new experience lecturing peasants in the way of the first world.
i’m not getting this right, you’d better tell your own story.
Melbourne is getting a bit springy, and the darebin music feast has leapt into being with its first night in the new old town hall. Eloise’s very new bar across the road picked up the late night scragglers with a wild evening of gypsy music, clarinet and tuba.
sorry to make youse all jealous, says michael
