An Update on The List

It had occurred to me not long ago that some of the items on The List have been completed but not yet blogged about.  This post is a collective dedication and summary of those.

2. Go to a soccer game.  

This year I went to the A-League football (soccer for the purists) final in Brisbane between Brisbane Roar and Perth Glory.  Traditionally, football fan I am not, however I rate it far above and beyond any other popular football code in Australia.  At times though I am attracted and intrigued by sporting finals and, test-match cricket, which is another story altogether.  I vehemently insist the most exciting sporting final I have ever seen was between Australia and New Zealand competing for a Commonwealth Games gold medal in 2010 in netball.  'Competing' understates the level of skill and athleticism displayed by these two old rivals and netball, as I have always said is one of the most exciting, demanding, fast-paced yet underrated sports of all time.  The game went into over-time not once but twice and the leadership was literally one point back and forth between the old enemies.  I was out of my lounge suite yelling at the TV, biting my nails, head in my hands, almost tearing my hair out.  In the end the best team won by two points and boy did New Zealand deserve to celebrate!

The A-League 2012 final between Roar and Glory came close but did not match the intensity of the Aus vs. NZ Commonwealth Games gold medal play-off.  The thing I love about soccer / football / football / soccer is the anticipation of waiting to score as each side can at many times throughout one half come so close, within centimetres of scoring goals time and time again.  I hadn't even watched one game of this so-called A-League yet there I was at the grand final cheering with the hard core fans, out of my seat, frustrated as 'we' failed to score in the first half.  Actually both teams failed to score in the first half.  Then there was a second half where some stuff happened and eventually Brisbane Roar won!  Yay!  Fantastic game and glad I was able to be there.

6. Go to the races.

Normally the words 'good time' and 'Ipswich' just don't go together but let's not be judgmental.  The Ipswich Cup held in June 2012 was the first time I went to a horse race and with thanks mostly to the company I kept on that particular day, I had a whale of a time!  Ordinarily my opinion of races is quite low and to be exact I wouldn't really actively pursue the idea of attending another in spite of the fact I did enjoy myself.  Let's face it, a bunch of horses on steroids inevitably destined for the dog food cannery are flogged by short men in badly coloured satin and drunkards scream inaudible, slurred encouragement from the sidelines so they can earn some easy cash while consuming oodles of beer and cheap wine in plastic cups.  Like I said, in spite of myself I had a good time.

Highlights of the day include:

• Wearing a lovely blue silk dress that was tailor-made for me when I visited Viet Nam last year with a matching blue fascinator with long black gloves.  Most girls fancy dressing up and I am no exception. 
• Consuming oodles of beer and cheap wine from plastic cups and screaming inaudible and slurred encouragement from the sidelines.
• Being bestowed the privilege of VIP tickets to the XXXX tent.
• Badgering 3 of our dedicated waiters at 3 different times over the course of say, 3 hours for vegetarian food and receiving none.
• Being impressed with or perhaps even a wee bit envious of some the more tasteful apparel the ladies were parading about in.
• Over hearing a conversation between two dudes upon registering that known football legend, Allan 'Alf' Langer was a guest in the XXXX tent.  "Mate, help me out here.  I'm from Victoria.  Which team did Allan Meninga play for again???

 

17. Don't drive the car for a week.

Saturday 25th of August, 2012 will remain a significant date for me.  Four days before I was due to leave for Poland with a one-way ticket, I handed over the keys and sold my beloved Honda Accord, affectionately known as 'Hondoona'.  This kid was more than metal and rubber to me.  I had spent the last 12 years with this car and only once in that time did Hondoona break down.  Sure, the cruise control stopped working and the handle on the inside of the passenger door broke off.  Twice.  And the button on the hand brake deteriorated and crumbled away due to exposure to the summer heat.  And I remember the day I found out that if I wind the electric window down too far on the passenger side the door flings open.  It was a hot day and I was going around a round-a-bout.  Luckily I had no passengers and there were no other cars on the round-a-bout.  But those things didn't matter.  Well, the window down too far causing door to open did matter I suppose... kind of a serious safety concern but that was easily fixed.  Hondoona was mechanically sound and more reliable than most people I know. 

August 25th 2012 was an emotional day.  My possessions were all but packed up and I was saying good-bye to something that had played a major support role in my life for over a decade.  I have thought about Hondoona a couple of times since then feeling lucky that I had a car that even with all its little quirks was dependable and efficient.  I have not driven since.

I suppose when I devised this list my intention with #17 Don't drive the car for a week was to do without private transportation and find my way around using alternative methods like I did when I was young, poor and unemployed or during my student days.  It didn't quite turn out like I thought and while I do miss Hondoona I don't miss having another car of my own.  Thank you Hondoona for being the best car a girl could ever ask for!

#26 - Splash in Puddles

I commented to my companion on the weekend that I noticed a rainbow whilst looking out my kitchen window early one morning last week.  I stood there for a few minutes simply admiring it.  He told me he often thought about floating a leaf in the over flowing gushing gutter in his street and chasing it until it disappeared down a storm water drain.  I said: "remember when we used to take our shoes off and walk in the puddles?"  He said "yes, actually, wouldn't it be cool to do that sometime as an adult I mean?"

#75 - Attend An Opening Night

Often I find the best times are the ones that are unplanned.  Rather than you chasing the goal, you have an idea and then whammo it happens and unfolds in front of you just because you are in the right place at the right time.

This is the second such art exhibition I've gate crashed in as many years. My companion, gal pal Sarah and I stumbled upon an art exhibition in August 2011 at the Art Factory near Southbank, Brisbane.  We were walking by, peering curiously at a gathering of people in this small but ample gallery.  One of the guests, smoking a cigarette outside engaged us in innocuous chit chat and warmly welcomed us to take a look at the artwork hanging on the walls.  Stepping inside, it was clear that this opening night was well and truly in full swing.  Empty bottles of beer and glasses of Grenache lay haphazardly amongst the crumbs of finger food and feta.  The guests were loud, full of frivolity and full of grog.  We smiled knowingly at each other at their friendly, drunken state.

Taking a look around the gallery I was immediately taken with the exhibition titled "We'll eat up at the lodge" by Sue Beyer.  I have always been a fan of maps and had the privilege of drafting maps in my early 20s, when I was working for a large Telecommunications company as a draftperson.  A lot of Beyer's work, acrylic on canvas seemed to be inspired by and included lots of overlays of urban plans with apparent influences from suburban living.  


Admittedly I am not adroit in the world of art.  My appreciation lies in the creativity, time and dedication such pursuits necessitate and the way such disciplines reflect perceptions back to the world.  What I loved most about the exhibition were the names of some of Beyer's paintings.  Names such as "They barged through the gate without stopping", "We have to make plans for the future", "They were planning a garden", "Much of my apparent indifference was merely protective camouflage" and a personal favourite "The reflectors from the street lights gave us just enough light".

The best I can critique art work is merely by stating my opinion and in my opinion, I really liked it!  It was architectural and 'constructed' but was balanced with vivid suburban imagery and colours.  

Funnily enough, researching Sue Beyer's website revealed a familiar piece of her work which was previously known to me although I was unaware of the artist.  Downstairs in the building where I worked up until my recent resignation, there is a bike parking rack for cycling commuters.  I passed through the bike rack room on an almost daily basis since January, almost 6 months after the exhibition, without realising I was already acquainted with the artist's work.  Along one of the walls of the bike rack area was a large mural, a view from above of an urban landscape.  It was a Beyer and it was not unlike the work I had seen at the "We'll eat up at the lodge" exhibition.  In retrospect it's surprising I didn't make the connection considering the similarities.  My how I love these little coincidences!

# 4 - Watch The Sunrise At Manly

Sometimes a picture removes the need for words and all that is required is to observe and listen.

Watching sunrises has become one of my favourite things to do this year.  It's an interest which was ignited when I pursued #87 - Wake Up Every Morning at 5am for a Month.  Each sunrise unique although similar.  The most simplest form of entertainment is getting up early and plonking yourself in a chair for half an hour or so to watch one of Mother Nature's sunbeam shows!


This photo was taken along the Esplanade at Manly, one of Brisbane's eastern suburbs on the bay.  I woke up at 3:30am, left home at 4am with a thermos of chai and a couple of camping chairs to meet my friend Dario at 4:30am.  We then drove to Manly, reaching there when the dark night sky was just starting to show infantile signs of day break.


I love this time of morning, listening to it slowly starting to wake up and come to life.  The birds get a bit noisier, the traffic gets a bit heavier and people come out of their homes and say good morning to each other. 


Through my learnings of Buddhism and meditation this year, fundamentally the consistent message is the need for a peaceful, still mind existing in and focusing on the present moment.  A mind without thought or distraction.  All too often an untamed mind is running away with memories and sometimes regrets from the past or predictions and hopes for the future.  If you're doing this, as I often find I am then, maybe you're doing it wrong.  Perhaps what you need is a good dose of sunrise spotting.  Set the alarm, get up early and go and marvel at the world!  Peace...xo


  

# 84 Run In The Bridge To Brisbane and # 70 - Participate In Ramadan

Sooner or later it had to happen.  I didn't complete some of the activities on The List.  The Bridge to Brisbane (B2B) was held on Sunday September 11.  I had been ill a few days prior and now a few days after with all the usual symptoms and so I scratched myself from the race.  As for Ramadan, on the other hand I knew it was in the latter half of the year but it was near on the last week of August when I found out that August was the month of Ramadan.   But first, about the Bridge...


Each year the B2B has a major charity partner which receives the funds raised in the time leading up to the race.  As a participant you are not obliged to raise funds although it is nice, gives you a sense of satisfaction and community involvement and makes other people smile.  This year's appreciative recipients of the B2B's donations was Legacy.  Legacy is dedicated to supporting the families of war veterans, assisting 100,000 widows and 1,900 children.  Legacy aims to do whatever it can to ensure families thrive in spite of loss and sacrifice.


The B2B is a 5 or 10km event and you can choose to either walk or run... or shuffle or stagger as an individual or as a team.  Guaranteed there will be one team called 'The Dream Team' and at least one group of guys in irradescent green sweat bands and pink tutus and someone dressed as a gorilla.  It's B2B tradition.  It's a great family and fun day with the finish line at the Royal Exhibition Grounds with post-race food, stalls, entertainment, oranges and fruit and if you like you can pre-order and purchase a breakfast of champions.  If you stick around long enough you can even win a car in the lucky draw.  

This year 42,571 participants entered.  That's a total of around 85,142 smelly socks and sneakers over the finish line!  I've participated in the B2B for the last 3 years and I'm a little disappointed I didn't get a chance to improve on last year's 10km run result and continue the praxis of a free t-shirt.  Sigh.  On the plus side though the entry fee I paid contributed to the funds raised for Legacy and there will be next year to break the 60 minute mark.


Ramadan, an Islamic tradition occurs for 29-30 days of the ninth month of the Islamic calendar.  The actual dates change every year depending on the moon's cycle.  It is a month of fasting, in which participants refrain from eating, drinking, smoking and having sex during daylight hours.  It's for the purpose of teaching patience, spirituality, humility, self-discipline, self-control and to develop an empathy for others less fortunate.  


I've done my research about Islam and in its purest form teaches kindness, compassion, love and respect.  It promotes a community spirit and inclusivity.  Nowhere in the Qur'an does it insist that Muslims must kill and die for what they believe in, no matter what the cost.  Nowhere does it say that women must be oppressed.  In fact Muslim women are encouraged to receive a university education and have many rights, according to Islamic law, including:

• Women can not be denied the right to an education
• Forced marriage is prohibited
• Women can file legal suits in court and initiate divorce
• Women can enter into contracts without interference or permision from a man
• Spousal abuse is a punishable offense
• Women must receive equal pay for equal work.

The list goes on.  Oh and about the hijab.  Dress codes which apply to women also apply to men.  For example Muslim men must:    

• Not wear tight clothes
• Grow a beard if they are able to do so
• Wear a hat called a kufi
• Cover the area from the knees up to the navel when in public at all times
• Wear long pants or a loose gown and a shirt.

As for other misrepresentations of Islamic culture and beliefs, the word Jihad does not mean a holy war, nor does it give permission to anyone to kill innocent people for not believing or following Islamic law.  In fact, it is against Islamic law to force another person to convert to Islam.  But back to Jihad.  Jihad literally means 'to strive or struggle or to work for something with determination'.  Studying a degree, doing volunteer work or even training for a triathlon or sport could all come under the heading jihad, according to the real definition!


Some things that Muslims do oppose are:

• The selling of alcohol, pornography and drugs
• Littering and pollution
• Gossip or slander
• Corruption in government
• Pedophilia and spousal abuse
• Cruelty to animals.

If there is one thing I am passionate about it's false assumptions, misinterpretations and misrepresentations. I have spent a good part of twelve years with one of my closest and best friends who happens to be a Muslim man and I am so thankful of the beautiful wisdom he has taught me.  I encourage anyone who is interested in dispelling myths and getting actual facts about Islamic beliefs to pick up a book and start reading.  Heck there's even an Idiot's Guide to Understanding Islam which is written in an easy-to-read plain English format.

I was looking forward to experiencing Ramadan and a deeper feeling of fulfillment and commitment.  But I guess, like the B2B there is always next year...


 

#85 - Pose Nude For A Photo

As I've worked my way through my List of 100 Things To Do In One Year I've developed an interest in working with and for my local and global community, through volunteering opportunities, raising money for assorted charities.  It's quite thrilling to do a small thing collectively with a group of others, thus resulting in a bigger impact.  There are quite a few community focused groups who do great work and one that has come to my attention recently is The Butterfly Foundation.  TBF is dedicated to the support and treatment of Australians affected by eating disorders.

My mate Dario brought a fundraiser to my attention - a group photo shoot to be printed and sold with the proceeds donated to TBF.  But there's a twist.  It was to be a naked group photo shoot.  

The concept, similar to photographer Spencer Tunick, was to get as many people to lie down stark raving naked in the shape of a love heart and take some happy snaps.  Tunick takes some great shots using models of all shapes, sizes and race in a completely non-creepy artsy way, depicting the beauty in genetic diversity across the human race.  Fat ones, skinny ones, brown ones, white ones.. they're all there represented equally.


Now before you go making all sorts of assumptions about what kind of a person would agree to a naked photo shoot I will plea with you to hold off on any judgments.  Participating in a photo shoot wearing one's birthday suit is by no means necessarily amalgamated with anything unbecoming of a lady.  This was for a good cause remember and frankly it's worth experiencing at least once in a person's life.

My first thought upon arrival at the venue for this photo shoot was 'there are wangs everywhere'.  It's true, there was an awful lot of cock.  More than you could poke a stick at.  I was decidedly over dressed.  I was only one of a couple who remained fully clothed right up until the photo shoot.  It was only then that I dis-robed in favour of a sarong and then, right at the last possible moment it was my moment of truth.


Similar to Spencer Tunick's subjects there was a variety of people at our photo shoot.  All perfectly normal, imperfect yet beautiful-in-their-own-right, young and old men and women.  Personally - and surprisingly - I felt entirely at ease.  Sure, I caught a few people having a look, but then they would have caught me looking at them too.  Certainly not in a perverse way but in a way that you run your eyes over a person's outfit or hair or physique when you meet fully clothed.  It was no different.


It was the most resplendent, bright and glorious day to be outdoors.  The sun was warming our skin in the way that only Brisbane's September sun can and birds were tweeting chipper little melodies.  An hour or so later we'd formed about half a dozen varieties of our love heart shape.  Some lying face down on the outline of the heart, some face up.  One standing up, holding hands, another we were all lying in foetal position forming the heart shape on plush green grass.


There'll be no photographic evidence of this one at least not on my blog.  There was only about 30 people who participated in the photo shoot, me the only redhead and I'm afraid it'd be all too easy to spot me in the crowd. 

Reexamining yesterday's experience I can't really believe I did it. But then again I also can't pretend that it was a big deal in the end.  Just another thing I've done for the sake of doing and another charity I have supported whose work I truly admire.  If I had the opportunity to nude up again for another cause I'd consider it, depending on the circumstances of course.  But for now I think I'll put my birthday suit to the back of the wardrobe... at least for another year.

#91 - Go Camping

Volunteer work is addictive.  It's the perfect cyclical nature of giving for the sake of giving and receiving in return.  You give up some of your time for a worthy cause and usually, they give you a free tshirt.  See #58 - Do Some Volunteering and #59 - Get A Free Tshirt.  There is the warm and fuzzy feeling, sure but really it's just a heap of fun!

The Ride to Conquer Cancer is a 2-day 230km bike ride starting from the University of Queensland, St Lucia Campus, through the gorgeous Brisbane Valley ending on day one (19 August 2011) at Somerset Dam.  Along the way there are pit stops, medical staff, cheer squads every 20-25 kms (manned by volunteers).  Upon arrival riders are greeted enthusiastically by volunteers who will congratulate you on a ride well done and park your bike.  Your comfy accommodation - a tent - will already be set up (by volunteers) and riders can relax with a beer (served by volunteers), a well earned massage (volunteers) and a meal (volunteers).  Are you getting the theme here much?? 

When I was offered the opportunity to volunteer for this event, for the entire weekend I jumped at the chance.  Given that my recent experience with volunteering had such a lasting, positive effect I had resolved to do more community focused volunteer work and I was not disappointed.

The day started at UQ at 4:30am.  I was allocated the bike parking team and at 6am it was time for the cyclists to head towards the start line.  We checked bikes out and wished the riders well.  With 1900-odd riders out of the starting blocks, it was a slow departure but by 7am they were on their way.  May I please mention that at 7am the temperature was 6 degrees celcius?  Thank you.  Six degrees of frozen fingers and toes. 


After a few odd jobs and errands we were on our way to Somerset Dam (in a car) with work to do!  Upon arrival, we helped the Tent Team to pitch and number almost 1000 tents.  I was on mallet duty, hammering pegs my speciality. 

The first rider cruised into camp around 10:30 and by about midday there was a steady flow of cyclists arriving at camp, so we were off to bike parking duties.  By the end of the day, 6:30pm we were skillfully parking bikes with precision.  Some bikes were obviously expensive and owned by enthusiasts.  Others, were just your usual commuter bikes but the bike that stood out was a purple rusted ladies bike at least 30 or more years old with a shabby ripped vinyl seat (padding poking our) and a rattly rear mud guard that was haphazardly strapped on with an old bike tube.  When I asked about the bike, the woman said she deliberately rode this bike because she wanted to demonstrate that it was not about being a cyclist with the most modern and ostentatious gear.  The point was participation, passion and philanthropy.


At 6:30pm the volunteers were rallied together for a meeting.  We were given our 2nd free tshirt of the weekend (I'm quickly building a collection of free tshirts) and an itinerary for the next day.  Then we were asked to line up and walk toward the dining hall, a massive marquee where the riders were dining and some speeches were being made.  Our team leaders told us to get excited and clap and cheer when we were asked to.  I grew suspicious, but "just trust us" was the response I received when pop-quizzed them on what was going on.  By this time we had arrived at the entrance to the dining hall, I was at the very start of the line with my gal pal when I tweeked to what was going on.  I heard the tail end of the speech and it was something like ".... they feed us, they cheer us on, they were there at each and every pit stop encouraging us to keep going, they put up your tent, they parked your bikes... would you please welcome and give a big hand to THE VOLUNTEERS!!!!"  And right on cue, as instructed We. Got. Excited.  


The lot of us ran and skipped through the dining hall, waving and smiling at the riders who gave us rambunctious clapping, cheering and whistling to the soundtrack of Survivor's 'Eye Of The Tiger'.  There was a media crew there filming it and most of the riders gave us a standing ovation.  

A standing ovation!  Oh my Buddha.  It was a moment.


By the time we did our lap of honour I had completed a 14 hour day.  It was time for dinner and a sit down.  I needed to be fed and watered.  


We sat through a few speeches, mostly announcing the biggest fundraisers.  One woman raised $50,000.  On her own.  The total amount raised was the largest sum ever raised in Queensland for a charity.  The final figure?  $4.7 million.  Let me say that again.  $4.7 million for cancer research at the Queensland Institute of Medical Research (QIMR). The CEO of QIMR, Irish-born Frank, a more distinguished grey-haired gentleman made a wonderful speech.  Frank participated in the ride that day however he decided beforehand not to do any training or preparation for the ride, quite deliberately because, as he said, no one is prepared for cancer they just have to face that challenge with true grit.  That is how he wanted to face this ride.  


The speeches ended and the band started up.  In my head I was on the dance floor but after a 3:30am rise and a 14 hour day I was off to the showers and in my tent by about 8pm falling asleep to the distant sound of the cover band, who was playing very similar music as the cover band from last week's Coke party (see #76 - Go On A Date).  In fact I'm convinced it was the exact same set list! 


Up early next morning 5am, a quick breakfast and back on bike parking team duties, checking wristband matched name and rider number on bike.  A handful of people were not riding on day 2.  Their bikes were transported back to UQ via Thrifty hire truck.  We volunteers loaded them onto the truck (bikes, not riders) and riders were ferried in air conditioned comfy seat comfort via coach.  I don't blame them really.  There's no way I'd ride that far.  I mean, the bike seat is enough to put me off.  If the bike seat was a bit wider and a bit more comfortable, kind of like an armchair and you didn't have to pedal - say if it was a motorised bike and you could just recline, have a nap and the bicycle rides itself then yeah, sure, I'd ride 236kms in two days.


A few hours later the last rider had left, we did a quick scenic tour of the dam - it was gorgeous and a good place to camp - and were back at UQ, taking bikes off the Thrifty truck and parking them.  The first few riders had already arrived, at 10:30am.  There wasn't much else for us to do and so the weekend's work finished at around midday.


As I reflected on the weekend, I realised there were many times when I caught myself way out of my comfort zone and loving every minute of it.  I used to look at people who did volunteer work and think to myself "why would you do that?" both with curiousity and admiration.  I used to think it took a special person.  I'm not sure about that but I can say the reasons why I volunteer and why I'm interested in doing more volunteering is that as I get older, values, ethics, karma, compassion, teamwork and altruism become more important and I am now more interested in giving than taking.  

#76 - Go On A Date

Everyone makes mistakes for which they should not be judged and in a haze of optimism I agreed to go to a singles night back in June at the Regatta Hotel, Toowong.  It was pitched at the 25-45 year old age bracket.  The 40-45s were over represented, some folks were clearly in their late fifties and there was a smattering of thirty-somethings.  When I say smattering I mean my two gal pals and I and two other chaps.  

The two chaps who befriended us seemed innocuous, nice enough and kept our company for the 2nd half of the evening.  It literally was the second half because some of the singles had moved to the room next door where a significant rugby match was being televised.  Personally football is not a passion of mine but compared to the singles event let's just say that I was cheering on someone's team, yelling at the mesmerising plasma screen.  One of our newest friends, let's call him Charles appeared to take a little bit of a shine to me.  Towards the end of the evening he requested my company on a forthcoming occasion, his work party in a couple weeks time.  Considering his polite demeanour and gentlemanliness I accepted the invitation and we exchanged phone numbers.

Over the course of the evening it turns out that my gal pal works at the same company as Charles.  And the workplace in question?  Coca-Cola Amatil.


Fast forward to August 13, I arrive at the venue, the Brisbane Exhibition and Convention Centre in suitably prescribed after five attire.  The ladies were dressed to kill and some of the fellas went to the trouble of suit and tie.  Pre-dinner drinks were served - all Coca-Cola products of course - and after the necessary preamble we made our way into the Great Hall, greeted by red carpet!  


The tables were set with all the trimmings to be expected from a multi-million dollar world dominating company.  Two massive screens were suspended from the ceiling broadcasting Coca-Cola tv advertisements from the 1960s and 70s through to the naughties.  I'm ashamed to admit that I remembered quite a few of them.  Every person had a silver Coca-Cola yo-yo gifted to them in a little black box, commemorating 125 years of Coca-Cola beverage market supremacy.

There were awards given out on the night for folks who had completed a significant amount of years at the company.  Among them, there were employeess who had dedicated 15, 20, 25, 30 years and, astoundingly one chap who started working for Coca-Cola in 1971.  Forty years of continuous service.   Imagine!

Proceeding the awards we were served a delicious but not over-the-top 3 course meal and for the first time in literally a number of years I had a Coke!  It seems marketing actually works.  

Now for some daggy bits.  There was an entertainer who was yo-yo mad.  He knew all the yo-yo tricks, in fact too many.  And to think he would actually spend a significant amount of time practising them with all the different types and sizes of yo-yos that he had on stage with him on this particular evening.  There was even a yo-yo competition between about ten or so Coke employees who were summonsed on to stage and televised on the massive screens in the Great Hall.  Meanwhile, my date Charles entertained me with not one but two 3 minute videos on his phone of an SES helicopter which had landed on the tarmac at his workplace.  It was difficult to pick which of the giant yo-yo and the helicopter was worthy of my attention, so I stole a brand name bottle opener instead, slipping it into my handbag.  It was my way of rebelling.

Dinner was over and it was time for ripping up the dance floor.  

Not my date, but damn he should have been

I spent most of the rest of the evening getting my groove on and snacking on dessert and chocolates in between songs.  The cover band was great, at least as great as cover bands can be.  They really were true professionals.


Out of respect for Charles, I won't say how the date panned out but suffice to say I haven't been in contact and I declined his request for further dates.   However I had a good time at the party and spent some time getting to know my date both on the night and in between our first and last meeting, on 3 or 4 outings.  There was nothing, literally to base a potential friendship or relationship on with Charles.  Having said that I am grateful for having met him and given the opportunity to spend a small amount of time getting to know him.  He is not the one for me so for now I have released him back in the wild so he can meet his perfect match.

#34 - Buy a Pair of Crocs

For years they were the subject of my ridicule... and they will continue to be for they truly are a remarkably U N A T T R A C T I V E  shoe.  However I had to find out what all the fuss was about and I can state with absolute certainty that Crocs offer unforeseen comfort.  For $50 a pair they'd want to offer something.  Given they are irrefutably repulsive they also offer one of the greatest known contraceptives to humankind.   Aint nobody gettin' lucky wearing a pair of these!

Crocs are a little bit like a car crash.  You know you shouldn't look, partially out of respect for the victim and partially because the moment you do look you know that you will be horrified by the abhorrent scene.  


Stepping inside the Crocs store in the Queen Street Mall, Brisbane I was jolted by the range of styles, which you can view at the Crocs website.  Alongside the original Crocs, which I promptly ignored, were sparkly slip ons, high heels, faux deck shoes, shoes in animal print with bright colours and sensible designs.  

I ran my eyes over some of the Crocs and even tried on a few, sans inspiration.  After a short while I rested my eyes on a cheeky pair of red sailor shoes for near on $60.  Sixty dollar for plastic shoes?!  I had plastic shoes in the 80s as a kid, they were all the rage and they weren't $60.  More like $6 and from K-Mart to boot!  I slipped them on and walked around a little in the store.  They were indubitably agreeable and a happy halo encompassed my feet.  However, hesitation ensued momentarily.  Did I really want to offload such an expense for a pair of plastic shoes??? 


After pausing, reconsidering and recalculating I convinced myself to proceed nonetheless to finalise my purchase.  The checkout was busy with tourists so I entertained myself by glimpsing around at the surroundings and there on display on the Sale! stand were these little beauties.

Allow me to recapitulate my cohorts, these Crocs are off the hook when it comes to comfort,  versatility and convenience.  A casual little pair of rubicund ballet flats, they are suitable for work (casual Fridays) and play, jeans and skirts.  And for a paltry $30 I am more than happy with my frugal bargain spotting.

I love the reactions from my friends to whom I have announced "I bought some Crocs".  Typically the response has been a loathesome "urgh God, you didn't did you?"  But when I reply "yep!" and shove my foot in their field of view the reaction changes from disgust to curious animated delight.  It seems most of us are oblivious to the full range of Crocs footwear, understandably so.  They haven't exactly promoted themselves as fashionistas in the field of haughty hoofers.

Suitably chuffed with the purchase they are now a favourite of mine.  I believe I have unravelled the mystery of why so many had to rush out and buy the most hideous looking shoes at the height of their popularity. The comfort sought in a shoe is available in Crocs footwear, however don't wear them to impress for you will be disappointed...

#93 - Visit The Big Pineapple and #94 - Visit Ettamogah Pub

Global Financial Crisis or GFC as a substitute or weakened version of calling the current 'economic tough times' a recession is as effective as calling a spade a shovel.  We all know it's a spade, why don't we just call it a spade?  And what's with the pack of cards reference?  When the Global Financial Crisis is finally over, and the pendulum swings again in favour of economic not-so-tough times are we going to refer to the state of the economy as hearts?  Diamonds?  No.  More likely we'll just say it's ace, and rightly so.  Not so ace is the closure of the Sunshine Plantation aka The Big Pineapple on Queensland's Sunshine Coast.  It went into receivership in 2009, however enjoyed many years of success as a tourist attraction after it was opened in August 1971. 

I don't recall the first time I went there, as a youngster with my family.  I was too young, naive and inexperienced to appreciate the kitsch candour of Pineapple: Big.  As an adult I was looking forward to pinapple this and that.  Pineapple pencils, pineapple stickers, pineapple coffee, pineapple post-its, other pineappley tacky tourist tidbits and of course pineapple lumps.  Not to be.  Oh well.  Just one thing though, why is the Big Pineapple website still up and running??  It's false advertising man and now that I know about it, I want to ride on the Nutmobile!!!  The website also boasts of leisure wear.  Does that mean pineapple yellow velour tracksuits in anyone else's book?? 

Next stop on this road trip was Ettamogah Pub.  It really should change its name to Ettabogan Pub.  Check out their car park:

There was beer guts and goatees everywhere!... and that was just the women.  This place was swarming with wall to wall bogans of every description and yes, there are bogan sub-cultures within bogan sub-cultures.  These were your Car Enthusiast Bogans.  Also present, Biker Bogans.  I dare not photograph them though.  Not unless I was willing to get my norks out.  They probably haven't seen fully clothed women in a long time, what between the topless bars and the wet t-shirt competitions.  I'm sure that if I requested a photo the response would have resulted in polite gentry tete-a-tete, such as "sure luv, just show us yer tits", which is bogan for "sure luv, just show us yer tits".  Bogans are known for calling a spade a fu*ckin' spade, unlike ill-named Global Fried Chicken in the example above.


With beer in hand we're on the verandah upstairs when the car club collectively decided to call it quits and revved up their engines. A number of clientele peered curiously over the verandah at the ruckus below.  I entertained myself with the decor de la bogue.  The sign on the ladies - sorry, I should say 'sheilas' -  proudly displayed its extensive vocabulary with half a dozen names for 'toilet' including but not limited to: thunderbox and dunny.  Classy.


Why must we resort to the cringe-worthy stereotypes of Australians like the blue singlet wearing, beer-guzzling larrikin type for a laugh when Australians are, by definition so much more diverse?  Ocker culture, thankfully appears to be fading, lost in the blend of more interesting, substantial cultures, replaced with a broader sense of 'Australian'.  Naturally, our 'Australian-ness' has earned us a reputation on the world stage and is one of the reasons why visitors have selected Australia as a preferred destination both temporarily and permanently.  The Ettamogah pub embodies its fair share of Australia that international visitors come to see and the novelty hasn't worn off.  Yet.   

I'm left wondering if the tourist icon, once basking in its splendour will suffer the same fate as the Big Pineapple as the world grows weary of crocodiles, koalas and cans of Fosters.