There's this guy

I like to play this game I call "There's this guy ..." It goes like this, every time I am enjoying myself in an activity say for example eating Nutella sandwiches, I would say "There's this guy out there who grew or picked the hazelnuts that went into the Nutella factory and got turned into this sandwich I am enjoying right now. Even though I've never met him and I will never meet him but in my heart I know he exists inspite of having no evidence. This my friend is called faith.

The Phoenix

Thus all my minions have been dispatched to scour the streets of Sydney in search of my beloved car named Xena. The police patrol cars that are equipped with OCR (decodes all number plates it sees) have downloaded the database update from the RTA and will trigger an alert should they encounter AJX83L.

After five days I receive a letter in the post issuing a fine for a speed camera offence on the Hume Highway about 20kms from my home. Really? My car gets stolen, and then the thieves get caught by a speed camera and then the Roads authority send me an infringement notice?  The phrase 'salt on the wound' comes to mind. I call them back and told them I was no longer in possession of the vehicle since the night it was stolen, I give them the police incident reference number and they send me back a letter saying no infringement. But wait a moment -We may have a photo of those bloody thieves.I log in to the Roads and Maritime Service website to view the picture. It was taken at night, from the back. I can barely make out the baby seat through the rear window. It was Xena being driven fast by criminals. It made me upset and angry. I regret viewing the picture. I'd use the phrase 'lemons squeezed onto the wound'.

After nearly two weeks have passed I received word that a car had been found that looks like my beloved Xena. The brother of my daughter's boyfriend calls in the location and attached mobile phone pictures of the burnt out green WRX. The front number plate didn't match, but the empty gap of the missing rear number plate seemed to show a familiar vertical crack on the rear bumper. My gut was telling me it was Xena, but my mind was holding on to hope that maybe -that barely recognizable charred hulk was NOT my former pride and joy. So I passed the data on to the police by calling the assistance line. A short version of the conversation went thus:

me: can you please get someone to confirm the burnt abandoned vehicle is or isn't my stolen car?
operator: where is the vehicle?
me: Campaspe Avenue, Wiley Park.
operator: is there a house number or a cross street?
me: I'm telling you ALL the information I have, coudln't  you just send someone to drive on the street and find it?
operator: it's a long street and they may drive up and down without spotting it. Is it on a property or in the bush?
me: It should be fairly easy to find a burnt out car parked on the street! How many burnt out green WRXs could there possibly be on Campaspe Avenue? Are you serious? I'm giving you a lead, information to help you find a stolen car and you're not sending anyone because they may not find it?
operator: (pause) Alright sir, we're dispatching a patrol to identify the vehicle. We will be in touch with you whether it is or isn't your car. Thank you.

So apparently the car was attended to by fire and police three nights before when it was alight. They noted down the number plate which happened to also be registered to a green Subaru and recorded it as such. The patrol that returned to identify it after I called checked the VIN (vehicle identification number) on the compliance plate.

Yes.It was Xena.

I notify my insurance company, who send out an assessor to process my claim. He calls me back and declares it is a write-off and that I will receive a call from AAMI to arrange the payout. Meanwhile they're putting Xena on the back of a truck for salvage. Surprisingly I feel better telling everyone that the old warrior princess just had a viking funeral.

The sad news I broadcast to my friends on Facebook, forum and Twitter. And after seeking much sage advice we had narrowed down Xena's replacement as first and foremost a family car. So it was either going to be a Subaru Forester, Outback or Liberty Wagon. I flirted with the idea of a Toyota Prius or even a Liberty GT, but when it came time to shop this is how it went down.

I found the ad on Carsales.com.au for a 2006 Outback, I asked Beatriz to arrange an inspection. We met the owner, we looked at the car, we haggled a bit, we bought the car. My critical side was asking why we didn't look at any other car? Well, we actually had teed up appointments for the rest of the week to inspect other cars. I just didn't see the point of traveling all over Sydney just to be certain that I had the best deal possible when I already knew in my gut that I was looking at it. We cancelled those appointments.

Beatriz tells me she's in love with the car, she thinks it's sex on wheels. After eliminating some contentious names for our new transport, we agreed to christen her Divina Black.

She's stylish and capable and she just rose from the fucking ashes of Xena.

*update 20 June 2024

Major Course Correction

My car was stolen. Got out of the house to go to work and my car just wasn't there anymore. This is what it feels like when one of your imagined fears have come true. Shock.  Disbelief. Mild amusement. Still won't get me to work though.

Sure it's insured, and yes Xena was getting a little long in the tooth (yes I named my car Xena, she even had a website once). While I was filing the report with the police, they asked if there was anything of value in the car and I couldn't think of anything besides the baby seat and the stroller. These are all replaceable. Then I wondered if anything was irreplaceable? My daughter's toys. She'll never see Mona again. It was the first doll she'd named. Isn't it amazing how we can get attached to objects? My how we do love giving meaning to everything.

I reigned in my sentimentality and engaged rationality to assume command of the situation. I've been told that there are generally two types of car thieves: opportunistic and targeted. To steal my car they would have had to defeat the  immobiliser and alarm, ergo it's probably going to be used for a crime. It's very likely she's gone for good. So next step is, what should Xena's replacement be like?

I'm back to raising a family now, so same again is out of the question. I would love to have a car with eco-credentials, but they are out of our budget. So a wagon perhaps?  I would love a four wheel drive so we can feel real outdoorsy and adventurous too, but that wouldn't be economical to run. So probably a small car at least 2 litre. Maybe we can go for a zippy version like a Mazda SP20 or an Alfa 146? Or maybe just a regular Impreza for the AWD? People mover? Hatch? Sedan? 

I suppose Xena the WRX was a symbol of who I wanted to be. And for a little while, I became that person. It is now time to acknowledge I have outgrown that person. I don't have to rely on a car to define my sense of fun, adventure, and risk-taking. 

What I thought of where my life was going and the style in which I will get there seems to be resolving itself. And the next car will be a realignment with who I should be for this part of my life. 

But it would be really really incredibly awesomely cool if I get my car back.  

There's Hope for Us All

This afternoon I witnessed the dignity and decency of us humans. If you were to believe the glum news reports of crime filled streets, racism, intolerance and fear, then you would be predisposed to assume that most strangers are potential perpetrators at worst and at best one who doesn't want to get involved. But today I saw the opposite of that.

An elderly woman had fallen on the footpath near our home. We were on our way out when we noticed a small crowd of people standing around. The people were offering to help her but somehow couldn't quite figure how or how much should they really help any stranger. Bea springs into action, gets out of the car and kneels down beside the woman so that she would be at her eye level. The poor woman was confused and started having a mild panic attack. Young Greek Fellow Who Spends A Lot of Time At The Gym suggests to lay her down in the recovery position, everyone agreed. This was my first contribution, I dashed back to the car (where our Little Angel was still strapped to her child seat) and found the pillow so the woman doesn't have to lay her head on concrete.

"I fell."
"It hurts."
"It's never happened before."
"I got scared."
"I feel silly."
"I don't want to be [any] trouble."
"I'm sorry, I fell..."

She kept repeating in varying sequence.  Now this was when I thought of my second contribution.  I needed to get Little Angel out of the car because a) Looks like we're going to be here awhile; and b) a cute little toddler toddling around will help lift the energy of the crowd.Yes, I used my kid for crowd control. Go on and judge me.

I took a mental picture of what was before me:

• An old Italian woman who had fallen over.
• Two young Greek buddies who noticed it happen and came to offer help.
• Two Asian dudes (walking a cocker spaniel) who want to help but not quite sure how.
• A Filipina mestiza toddler walking about and trying to have a conversation with the dog.
• A Uruguayan offering comfort and company.

By this time Bea had connected with the woman asking her if there was someone they can call? Any family? Perhaps a friend? A sad no answer for all queries. Then it hit me, all the other dudes could have walked away and let us deal with it. Instead they lingered, and would have stayed for as long as it took to help this lady, this stranger. Then I did my last contribution of all. I made a brief speech.

Muscle Man was saying that they couldn't walk away if there was anyone who needed help, he said we have to look after each other. I then said that we should be proud to be living in this neighbourhood, where we all look after each other and help each other. When it came down to the crunch, you guys chose to be a hero and help a stranger rather than walk away and not be involved. Go Campsie!



Then it was decided that Bea accompanied the woman all the way home, everyone went their own way as soon as the lady was recovered enough to walk.  As they all walked away I called out to them and promised to greet them hello next time I see them on the street. I also made a quiet promise to say hello to people in any neighborhood.

It's great to be doing the thing that makes it cool to be a human being.

Humanity prevails.

In the Night Garden ...

As an adult watching children shows on a regular basis I have developed favourites. I've also developed disdain for some of these children's shows (I'm looking at you Mr. Moon) for a host of varying reasons. But let's stay positive and stick with just why I like shows like Timmy, Shaun the Sheep, Waybuloo, and my special favourite In the Night Garden...

When I watch them, I try to imagine what it must be like from a child's perspective. Is it colour? Shapes? Music? Snappy dialogue? Intriguing plots? What lesson does it teach?

I find I hate it when a show is too preachy. I've raised a child once and I know that preaching really doesn't work, they do what they want anyway. In the Night Garden... does not preach any moral position. It's just a story where things happen, they just happen and everything remains as it was at the start and end of each episode. Oh alright, at a stretch you can feel that washing one's face, brushing one's teeth, and getting to bed are 'encouraged' - subtly.

I also hate it when shows, children's or otherwise, are predictable. In the Night Garden is mostly predictable, but they so cleverly insert tiny deviations in an otherwise simple plot. Take for example the two vehicles. the Ninky Nonk train and the Pinky Ponk airship. Both are masters of merchandising design genius, yet beyond that they are so filled with details that will keep you watching. The train has one engine and four carriages, not all the carriages are used all the time and I found it a pleasant surprise when Iggle Piggle climbs into the single seat carriage for the first time (he usually rides in the tall carriage with Upsy Daisy); or on the Pinky Ponk where tables are set with little refreshments and you may sometimes catch the Tomliboos sipping away. Or noticing that the Pontipines live in a semi-detached house and wondering if we'll ever meet the neighbours the Wottingers. I would have loved to sit in on the production meetings for these episodes and hear how these ideas are pitched.

I also love shows that are amusing for their own sake like Timmy and Shaun the Sheep. I like the character design for Roary the Racing Car because I used to be a car nut, and I get a kick seeing how the various racing categories are represented like Nascar, F1, Rally, Drifting, and now even Aussie V8 Supercars. This is a brilliant show for ocker dads to share with their kids and build up and bond in a very masculine way that  cannot be accomplished with say Angelina Ballerina hahaha.

I can keep going with this little treatise on my fave kids TV shows but I can see I'm starting to lose the audience here. So thanks for your time, that's it.

Parenting 2.0

I've got a decent excuse for not much blogging. I've been so preoccupied with parenting duties that writing has sadly become a lower priority. Today I've made a conscious effort to use the precious relatively uninterrupted alone time I get to tap out a few keystrokes while baby Saffira has her morning nap.

It's been a good 90 minutes so far. I took care of some paperwork, cooked baby food (sweet potato, cabbage, carrot, chicken), and now this blog.

I feel like my brain is slowly turning to mush with a steady diet of kids television and just playing with a 13 month old girl. I can grab snippets of time about 5-15 minute blocks when she entertains herself. But what can I accomplish in 15 minutes? Get a load of washing on the machine -stop. Hang them on the clothesline -stop. Make a sandwich -stop. Read a news article / watch a youtube video / comment and like my friends' Facebook updates -STOP!

However, it does all accumulate. It's just not in one long contiguous block. Is this what it's like to have ADHD? I can't stay focused on a single thing for too long and it takes ages for the gray matter to warm up to a new task or thought.

What I can say is that Parenting 2.0 has allowed me to enjoy Saffira's development so much more. I no longer fret why she is taking so long to develop a particular motor skill, confident that it will all come in time. I get to enjoy her just as she is and just where she is, because once she's moved on, it's gone for good. All that's left is a memory and whatever we've uploaded to youtube. Oh drats, she's awake now, gotta go...

Who am I and Where am I Going?

Aw come on, surely you have asked yourself these two questions at various points in your life. Maybe at a funeral, a graduation, or in the realisation of an epic failure and the usual bender that follows. Maybe you just find yourself in a quiet lull in between the stuff that keeps us too busy to pause and reflect intentionally.

Right now I'm sitting in an office high rise waiting for some software update to finish downloading and installing and I find my thoughts have brought me back to this blog and why I haven't updated since last year.

To my surprise Forrest Gump is the answer to the first question, and that seems to apply to the second question as well. Allow me to explain. The first minutes of the movie shows a feather being carried by the wind all over the place only to land at Forrest's shoe where he picks it up and admires it. Forrest is a simple man with an appreciation for things that most of us would hardly notice. He is intellectually disabled but somehow he makes his way in a hostile world and manages to touch so many lives in a way that changes them for the better. He does it with courage, honour, and humility.

Granted I am no Forrest Gump, but I'd like to be more like him. I've spent so much of my life living in fear of what the future holds, it's taken me all this time to let go of the controls. What I mean is that until this last decade, I have been furiously paddling upstream to get to a destination that I thought was where everyone was supposed to try to get to. That was damn exhausting.

What I've taken on is to feel which way the current is going and enjoy the adventure. Like that feather in the breeze, it didn't know where it was going, but boy did it get around.

I'm not saying I've become lazy. I still exercise volition and make choices that move my life in a particular direction, but rather than spending my life head down and waiting for the day when I reach my goals, I am taking time to enjoy the journey. Even when the detours seem to lead me away in a totally different direction. I try not to despair even when the detours seem too long and pointless, I'm sure something round the next bend will reveal meaning that will make it worth the delay. It may even set me on a new path and be just as exciting.

Much like this blog post, it all seems pointless. Until...


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Newsflash: The movie I was in will be released at Hoyts cinemas on September 1 this year. Hope you all watch it, I'm in the last 10 minutes of the film.