It's been said before, quite often by Me........and maybe it's especially apt since I am now injured and for all intents and purposes, likely retired from any kind of work other than piecemeal.
Work - I don't mind going there & coming home, it's just that big long bit in the middle that I can't abide.
Not related at all, really, to the subject matter at hand, but one can't really open a piece of writing with morbidity death and doom, at least not on a Sunday in Port Douglas.
Other meaningless, not dissimilar statements might be 'It's a grand life if you don't weaken, but a much better one if you do'.......but where am I heading with these absolute Pearls?
Well, as they go and do, usually just the once, mind you, people do die, leave this Earth, drop off the twig....'Go to Ivy Cottage' was what we would call it, which was our special Nurses-Only code-word for having gone down to the mortuary.
It goes by many names, does Death, but it's still pretty bloody final when it comes knocking....sometimes expected, sometimes out of the blue, it is The End of All Ends for our mortality, you know, that thing we've ignored for so long, thinking that it's been 'Us' who've been 'putting it off for a bit', when all the while it was locked in as firmly as 'C' always is on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' when the contestant in the chair hasn't got a clue as to the correct answer (everyone knows C is the answer when we don't know the answer - and if anyone's listening, someone ought to change it every few months to keep things interesting, at least - C'Mon Eddie, you knobstick - earn your salary)
I'm not naturally morbidly inclined, (seen here Italicized, with new & added Inclination) if there is such a term....well, there is now......but my ex-Father-In-Law went and 'Bit The Big One' a couple of nights ago. I was informed of his passing via text message, how very convenient, although to be fair, there wasn't really any other way to reach me, since I have neglected to give my ex-wife my only recently acquired phone number for reasons I am yet unsure about, or for reasons that I am very sure about but will save until another time to discuss, unless you press me on the matter.
He passed away peacefully in his sleep, did my Ex-FIL, whilst at home with his family - way to go, I reckon, and never mind all of those who say, No, that's no way to go.......fighting a giant Sea Octopus, wrestling a 10 metre crocodile before snapping it's neck in two, or taking-on the Russian Mafia with nothing more than a copy of The Australian and a pencil....that's the way a man should die - but most of us, in The End, do as did my ex-Father In Law, and die rather peacefully & quite uneventfully in their sleep (provided they haven't been somewhat unlucky and contracted some dreadful intractable disease that can very easily remove & replace the word 'peacefully', trust me on that one)
Of the several years that I knew my ex FIL, there was not one single day that he wasn't completely totally & utterly stoned off his trolley.......permanently off his melon, I kid you not, yet always controlled and capable - and as such, it wasn't always easy for others to tell, but it was a daily and a multiple event for him - and hat's-off to that, I say.
Did he have a good life, well, I'm less sure of that one taken to it's fullest meanings, but you could never say he didn't try very, very hard, in his own way, to have one, mostly single-handedly, and he always had a special glint in his eye and a glass half full attitude about him in that most special Very Green & Hydroponic of ways.
Rest In Peace, Man.
Yes, it always does remind us of our own mortality, this Death thing, although we don't like to focus upon it since it's scares us shitless when we do.....yet we should, if only to use the certainty of our own eventual 'who knows when' demise to help us live this life we've been given to it's absolute fullest.
It can, in the end, be incredibly short, can the Life caper, and again, to throw-in yet another cliche, 'You're a Long Time Dead' - at least in this current version of Life As We Know It - but fuck me, we really don't know it all that well, do we?
When are we ever going to learn that we aren't Immortal?
The TV is choc-full of ad's these days, playing upon our fears of Death, just in case some of us don't have quite enough of those already - you can get your very own Funeral Plan over the phone, usually without a medical examination, they readily tell us - and if Death is as a result of an accident, the payout is quadrupled and paid (usually) within 48 hours (how magnificent!!!! - sign me up today!!!!)....they even have couples, and don't call me a cynic when I say they might just be pretend couples, 'actors' even, telling us the peace of mind they've been given by enlisting in the Funeral Plan.....why leave the family with all that needless debt, they say?
Well, why not, I say.
Death cancels all debts, at least for the Death-ee (that definitely IS a new one!) and I have made it quite clear to the very few loved one's I have that I wish for nothing fancy, with the cheapest of packing cartons being the best I would expect before setting me on fire.
Should anyone attend the after-party celebrations of my own demise's, a few Cucumber Sandwiches with the crusts cut-off (absolutely divine up here in the Tropics, alive or dead) and a jug of chilled water will do well enough for the attendees, and if this makes them think of or remember me only as a tightwad bastard, then at least I won't give a rat's arse about same due to being fully in Dead-Mode.
Death cancels all worries, too, isn't it just marvelous!!
Of course, what I'm doing here is trying to smile about a rather serious matter, since if I didn't, I'd become even more upset than I ever thought I would be about this latest news.
Most text messages I get are those telling me that it's now even cheaper to call China. They should add that it's also and simultaneously even more expensive to call anyone anywhere other than China, especially within one's own country.
Bastards!
In truth, most of this is now written precisely due to it reminding me of my own very fragile existence, and that even living in Paradise can be much more brief than we would ideally wish for - better take all that I've been given and live life as fully as money and, more importantly, health, will allow.
Best end things on another cliche :
You Can't Take It With You.
You can, though, spend it liberally whilst still here so that no-one else can enjoy it, or go-on to use it after your death to buy really stupid things, such as far too many Shoes, Handbags, Houses, PlayStations, Plasma TV's, Doughnuts, Bags of Lollies.
I have a very strong feeling that in the next life, for surely this one we're in isn't It, (No wait, there's More, surely?) - there'll be none, or a very different currency required.
Sunday, 30 October 2011
Saturday, 29 October 2011
Blessed Am I!!
I Am Blessed!! - Well, in spite of it being perfectly true & accurate, I stole the title from a Ben Harper song playing a moment ago on Radio Port Douglas (90.9FM &/or 101.1FM).
Have to say it's a top station, too, and will be an even better one as soon as I get some kind of antenna on the car rather than the hole that's always been there, and a perfectly adequate hole, too, until now.
I'm thinking of maybe one of those nice little chunky hard plastic ones, something that makes bad youths that bit more disinclined to snap off, not that youths up here would do that....surely?? I don't need some bloody great big mast, not, at least, until I get my fully equipped Range Rover Vogue with CB Radio, for more of those Off-Road Adventures yet to follow.
Well, one must have ambitions.....
It's less of a joke than it sounds, even if, right now, it's only a thought in the mind - I, too, was such a thought in the mind of my Father (whomever he might be) and Mother (and I didn't know her too well either) - and look at me now, here, large as life and twice as wonderful, at least within my own imagination.
It could happen, you just don't know - I did use to have a superb and fully-equipped Land Cruiser, and that one DID spend most of it's time off-road. It had a CB Radio, mast antenna, a bull-bar & winch - not that Land Cruisers tend to get stuck too often, unless driven by the very foolish....I would struggle to run that one now, mind you (the understatement of the year!) and the big, heavy 6 Cyl 4.5L Petrol Driven beauty that it was didn't have 2 tanks for nought......filling them up, now, with petrol pricing gone mad, would cost a prohibitive amount of money.....it saw many a wild boar, red-bellied black snake and many other wild things. It was, in fact, owned from new, for 2 years, by an Atherton (of Tablelands fame) Doctor, who had used it only to collect the kids from school and running back and forth from the home on acreage to the practice and back.
No more of that namby-pamby bollocks once I had it - it did what it was always meant to do, and did it magnificently, not simply expensively.
Yes, as you may gather, I miss it to this day.
Meh.....I have digressed, and then some, again........
Oh Lucky, Lucky Man!!
As an update on the antenna thing, a small piece of co-axial cable was duly rammed-in to the hole, instantly improving the local radio reception beyond all expectations - no, it doesn't look too flash, but it goes nicely with the car and being free of charge, was certainly a cheap enough solution.
Have to say it's a top station, too, and will be an even better one as soon as I get some kind of antenna on the car rather than the hole that's always been there, and a perfectly adequate hole, too, until now.
I'm thinking of maybe one of those nice little chunky hard plastic ones, something that makes bad youths that bit more disinclined to snap off, not that youths up here would do that....surely?? I don't need some bloody great big mast, not, at least, until I get my fully equipped Range Rover Vogue with CB Radio, for more of those Off-Road Adventures yet to follow.
Well, one must have ambitions.....
It's less of a joke than it sounds, even if, right now, it's only a thought in the mind - I, too, was such a thought in the mind of my Father (whomever he might be) and Mother (and I didn't know her too well either) - and look at me now, here, large as life and twice as wonderful, at least within my own imagination.
It could happen, you just don't know - I did use to have a superb and fully-equipped Land Cruiser, and that one DID spend most of it's time off-road. It had a CB Radio, mast antenna, a bull-bar & winch - not that Land Cruisers tend to get stuck too often, unless driven by the very foolish....I would struggle to run that one now, mind you (the understatement of the year!) and the big, heavy 6 Cyl 4.5L Petrol Driven beauty that it was didn't have 2 tanks for nought......filling them up, now, with petrol pricing gone mad, would cost a prohibitive amount of money.....it saw many a wild boar, red-bellied black snake and many other wild things. It was, in fact, owned from new, for 2 years, by an Atherton (of Tablelands fame) Doctor, who had used it only to collect the kids from school and running back and forth from the home on acreage to the practice and back.
No more of that namby-pamby bollocks once I had it - it did what it was always meant to do, and did it magnificently, not simply expensively.
Yes, as you may gather, I miss it to this day.
Meh.....I have digressed, and then some, again........
Oh Lucky, Lucky Man!!
As an update on the antenna thing, a small piece of co-axial cable was duly rammed-in to the hole, instantly improving the local radio reception beyond all expectations - no, it doesn't look too flash, but it goes nicely with the car and being free of charge, was certainly a cheap enough solution.
Behave Yourself - Or I'll Come Round to Your Place and be Far-North Queenslandish
These Saturdays come around so quickly - but they should, in many ways, arrive more slowly, I'd have thought, since we're on Joe Bielke Petersen time here in Port Douglas, Queensland, but they just fly by - as distinct from Fly Buy, that Blue card thing that I use each time I visit Coles, which rewards me with a paper-clip for every $450,000 I spend, provided it's spent only on lettuce & within the same calendar.
Still, it's much better to get something rather than nothing, innit?
It is, of course, an extremely awesome day here again, and is also 'Portoberfest' Time, as the one chosen Saturday in October is named annually, a perfectly reasonable excuse to eat & drink that little bit more than usual, held at the 'Courty', or Courthouse Hotel, on the corner of Macrossan & Wharf Streets.
With a main sponsor of Corona (but hey, hang-on - isn't that Mexican?) there'll be such delights as German beers, (but only Heineken, if one can call that German) Guinness, sausages, sauerkraut, lederhosen, busty beer frau's, dancing boys aplenty, maybe dancing girls if not enough boys turn-up and, naturally, a good spattering of arrogance that the Germans do so well.
The Germans - don't get me started....too late.
It's guaranteed that, around 3 am this morning, German 'hand-built built by robots' (with Vorsprung Dirk Technique, no doubt) beach towels will have been strategically placed on every single optimally positioned sun lounger around every swimming pool in Port Douglas, (both public and private, heck, they just don't give a crapper)
Or is it long overdue that I change my long-held (read : since I was a foetus) stereotypical viewpoint of what constitutes all things German, bad things at least?
Times & people, sometimes, do change, and it follows that Germans, with the passage of enough time, could well have become less-arrogant.......for some of it to have evolved out of them, for them to have simply gone with the flow, so to speak - it wouldn't make them nearly as interesting, should they have taken this road, and lets face it, they've hardly been notable at all, save the spectacular losing of 2 World Wars, their BMW's, Volkswagen's, Mercedes Benz's and Bosch appliances (did I miss anything?) - or, should you prefer, as dull as dogshite since time immemorial for the most part.
Man, I'm not even sure I want 'em to change - can't bag 'em out if they suddenly become all sociably-friendly and like the rest of us.
I'm not being particularly unfair either - I have had so many experiences, mostly when a younger man in my 20's & 30's, and when holidaying in the likes of Morocco or Tunisia. These destinations were, by contrast, rather neat places to visit, back then, when holidaying from the UK, and made for a far better & more exotic break than did the usual fare of Benidorm or Ibiza, Spain's answer to the prayers of the tasteless and the choice of most Brits - who would have thought, eh?
Had they only bothered to look into things properly, they could have seen that even better deals were there to be had in Nth Africa, or even Bulgaria, should one be foolish enough to choose that little nugget of Fetta Cheese. Back then, the Eastern Bloc countries held a mild fascination, until the holidaymaker realized the lack of infrastructure as found in the former Yugoslavia or Bulgaria....but it was certainly cheap......6 weeks for the price of 2 wasn't at all uncommon, and you would often need that long just for the queue for water, milk & bread.
The tourist destinations of Spain, well, they were back then as they are now, full of idiot Englishmen the colour of Cooked Mud Crabs, or aspiring to be thus in their 10 day holidays, drinking English Beer at an English (or Eeeeengleeesh) Pub, and following though with Fish & Chips, just so that they felt 'at-home' - I mean, no point at all going abroad if one can't feel as though one never left home, even I can see that.......joshing aside, I really would rather put my genitals in a Robot-Chef, on any setting with any and all attachments as selected by my torturer - who would likely be a German dude, of course - than to ever toy with the notion of 'doing' this part of Europe, not even as a single man with 12 extra strength condoms hand-stitched and vacuum-sealed onto my knob - anyone visiting, even when taking similar drastic precautions, would still return home with more STD's than Vancomycin could ever fix-up.
But Tunisia or Morocco - these places, back then, they were still plenty different to the run of the mill Spanish or other Mediterranean holiday - you could see, experience and immerse yourself in a totally different culture, one where it wasn't entirely touristy in nature - now, sadly, well, it's all the same most anywhere on the Planet.......but back then, the one thing that was the fly in the ointment of a wonderful holiday in North Africa were, yes, you've guessed it - it was those Germans......always there to totally fuck with and ruin the one holiday per annum........omnipresent fucking Germans!!
Those Germans, man, they just loved North Africa - loved it so much, in fact, that, as was their way, they were the only people there on holiday, in their own imaginations and minds at least. Nothing would be allowed to get in the way of their holiday and it's enjoyment, and certainly not some English folks - totally & utterly Verboten.
Even multiple shouts sent their way of "Remember 66" (when England beat Germany in the World Cup Final - and never mind that they beat 'us' multiple times since, of course) or 'Two World Wars - Go Count 'Em" (self explanatory) seemed to matter not one bit.
Trust me when I say this, they really would get-up at 3am, for just long enough to place their beach towels on all of the poolside loungers of the resort, reserving them, as they saw it, before wandering back to their room...or zimmer...to sleep soundly until it was time to wake-up & sunbathe.
They did this for several days, until in the middle of one particular night, around 4am, some Englisman had bothered to set his own alarm, before striding out poolside and throwing-in all of the neatly placed towels, before returning to his room for a little more very deep & even more satisfying sleep.
Ah, those Germans....They weren't at all happy, but then, they never are.
I don't want to dislike them, yet I always have done - and hand on heart, it is entirely related to real experience that this is the case. Much like their white South African cousins (for surely, they must be related?) I have quite simply never met a nice one.
I can't abide, nor can I fathom (in ways other than obvious & direct perversion) the depths of their Lederhosen, nor the silly dance that often goes with them. Good points about the breed are definitely in there to be found, since as everyone knows, they can build a decent enough wall when called upon to do so, and can be called-upon to torture people in a manner that is right up there with the very best.
The spoken language always seems so guttural & harsh 'Ich bich fech dich, liebling, eine kliene fleisch fich-stich pimmel lichkker mien fuhrer bascher strasse' - don't bother putting it into BabelFish, since I made it all up - mostly. Point made, it blows chunks, as a language - and let's all take a moment for thanks to so many - heartfelt thanks to our fighting men and women of days gone by, that we aren't all mincing around speaking it.
Mercy!
I can just about tolerate their adoration & worship of all things meat, since I don't mind the odd bit myself, and whenever I get the opportunity, I'll readily pile an absolute stack of sauerkraut on my sausage........it goes superbly on knackwurst/bratwurst in or out of a Hot Dog, too.
No, mainly, I just don't dig their arrogance, and no pun heavily intended, they always seem to have arrogance in spades, shovels and even, sometimes, JCB diggers.
Find me a decent German, someone, or I'll keep-on giving it to them.
And now a word from our sponsors with an ad that you'll barely be able to read, mostly due to my ineptitude at inserting images onto webpages.
You see now?? You didn't believe me about the Portoberfest thing, did you...Eh??? Eh???
*Please Note In this Portoberfest Ad, the attractive young lady-Frau pretending to skull the beer stein is fairly unlikely to be German, & I make no claims at all as to her enjoyment of a decent sausage smeared in sauerkraut or otherwise.
Be sure to tune-in next time, when we'll be discussing the Belgians, hooking into them seriously with, amongst other things, how their sometimes half-decent beer & their chocolate truffles are the only saving grace for this poor unfortunate race.
In conclusion.....Of course, you know that in truth, & in spite of my anti-rants above, that I love all peoples......aside from Germans & South Africans naturally.
Still, it's much better to get something rather than nothing, innit?
It is, of course, an extremely awesome day here again, and is also 'Portoberfest' Time, as the one chosen Saturday in October is named annually, a perfectly reasonable excuse to eat & drink that little bit more than usual, held at the 'Courty', or Courthouse Hotel, on the corner of Macrossan & Wharf Streets.
With a main sponsor of Corona (but hey, hang-on - isn't that Mexican?) there'll be such delights as German beers, (but only Heineken, if one can call that German) Guinness, sausages, sauerkraut, lederhosen, busty beer frau's, dancing boys aplenty, maybe dancing girls if not enough boys turn-up and, naturally, a good spattering of arrogance that the Germans do so well.
The Germans - don't get me started....too late.
It's guaranteed that, around 3 am this morning, German 'hand-built built by robots' (with Vorsprung Dirk Technique, no doubt) beach towels will have been strategically placed on every single optimally positioned sun lounger around every swimming pool in Port Douglas, (both public and private, heck, they just don't give a crapper)
Or is it long overdue that I change my long-held (read : since I was a foetus) stereotypical viewpoint of what constitutes all things German, bad things at least?
Times & people, sometimes, do change, and it follows that Germans, with the passage of enough time, could well have become less-arrogant.......for some of it to have evolved out of them, for them to have simply gone with the flow, so to speak - it wouldn't make them nearly as interesting, should they have taken this road, and lets face it, they've hardly been notable at all, save the spectacular losing of 2 World Wars, their BMW's, Volkswagen's, Mercedes Benz's and Bosch appliances (did I miss anything?) - or, should you prefer, as dull as dogshite since time immemorial for the most part.
Man, I'm not even sure I want 'em to change - can't bag 'em out if they suddenly become all sociably-friendly and like the rest of us.
I'm not being particularly unfair either - I have had so many experiences, mostly when a younger man in my 20's & 30's, and when holidaying in the likes of Morocco or Tunisia. These destinations were, by contrast, rather neat places to visit, back then, when holidaying from the UK, and made for a far better & more exotic break than did the usual fare of Benidorm or Ibiza, Spain's answer to the prayers of the tasteless and the choice of most Brits - who would have thought, eh?
Had they only bothered to look into things properly, they could have seen that even better deals were there to be had in Nth Africa, or even Bulgaria, should one be foolish enough to choose that little nugget of Fetta Cheese. Back then, the Eastern Bloc countries held a mild fascination, until the holidaymaker realized the lack of infrastructure as found in the former Yugoslavia or Bulgaria....but it was certainly cheap......6 weeks for the price of 2 wasn't at all uncommon, and you would often need that long just for the queue for water, milk & bread.
The tourist destinations of Spain, well, they were back then as they are now, full of idiot Englishmen the colour of Cooked Mud Crabs, or aspiring to be thus in their 10 day holidays, drinking English Beer at an English (or Eeeeengleeesh) Pub, and following though with Fish & Chips, just so that they felt 'at-home' - I mean, no point at all going abroad if one can't feel as though one never left home, even I can see that.......joshing aside, I really would rather put my genitals in a Robot-Chef, on any setting with any and all attachments as selected by my torturer - who would likely be a German dude, of course - than to ever toy with the notion of 'doing' this part of Europe, not even as a single man with 12 extra strength condoms hand-stitched and vacuum-sealed onto my knob - anyone visiting, even when taking similar drastic precautions, would still return home with more STD's than Vancomycin could ever fix-up.
But Tunisia or Morocco - these places, back then, they were still plenty different to the run of the mill Spanish or other Mediterranean holiday - you could see, experience and immerse yourself in a totally different culture, one where it wasn't entirely touristy in nature - now, sadly, well, it's all the same most anywhere on the Planet.......but back then, the one thing that was the fly in the ointment of a wonderful holiday in North Africa were, yes, you've guessed it - it was those Germans......always there to totally fuck with and ruin the one holiday per annum........omnipresent fucking Germans!!
Those Germans, man, they just loved North Africa - loved it so much, in fact, that, as was their way, they were the only people there on holiday, in their own imaginations and minds at least. Nothing would be allowed to get in the way of their holiday and it's enjoyment, and certainly not some English folks - totally & utterly Verboten.
Even multiple shouts sent their way of "Remember 66" (when England beat Germany in the World Cup Final - and never mind that they beat 'us' multiple times since, of course) or 'Two World Wars - Go Count 'Em" (self explanatory) seemed to matter not one bit.
Trust me when I say this, they really would get-up at 3am, for just long enough to place their beach towels on all of the poolside loungers of the resort, reserving them, as they saw it, before wandering back to their room...or zimmer...to sleep soundly until it was time to wake-up & sunbathe.
They did this for several days, until in the middle of one particular night, around 4am, some Englisman had bothered to set his own alarm, before striding out poolside and throwing-in all of the neatly placed towels, before returning to his room for a little more very deep & even more satisfying sleep.
Ah, those Germans....They weren't at all happy, but then, they never are.
I don't want to dislike them, yet I always have done - and hand on heart, it is entirely related to real experience that this is the case. Much like their white South African cousins (for surely, they must be related?) I have quite simply never met a nice one.
I can't abide, nor can I fathom (in ways other than obvious & direct perversion) the depths of their Lederhosen, nor the silly dance that often goes with them. Good points about the breed are definitely in there to be found, since as everyone knows, they can build a decent enough wall when called upon to do so, and can be called-upon to torture people in a manner that is right up there with the very best.
The spoken language always seems so guttural & harsh 'Ich bich fech dich, liebling, eine kliene fleisch fich-stich pimmel lichkker mien fuhrer bascher strasse' - don't bother putting it into BabelFish, since I made it all up - mostly. Point made, it blows chunks, as a language - and let's all take a moment for thanks to so many - heartfelt thanks to our fighting men and women of days gone by, that we aren't all mincing around speaking it.
Mercy!
I can just about tolerate their adoration & worship of all things meat, since I don't mind the odd bit myself, and whenever I get the opportunity, I'll readily pile an absolute stack of sauerkraut on my sausage........it goes superbly on knackwurst/bratwurst in or out of a Hot Dog, too.
No, mainly, I just don't dig their arrogance, and no pun heavily intended, they always seem to have arrogance in spades, shovels and even, sometimes, JCB diggers.
Find me a decent German, someone, or I'll keep-on giving it to them.
And now a word from our sponsors with an ad that you'll barely be able to read, mostly due to my ineptitude at inserting images onto webpages.
You see now?? You didn't believe me about the Portoberfest thing, did you...Eh??? Eh???
Be sure to tune-in next time, when we'll be discussing the Belgians, hooking into them seriously with, amongst other things, how their sometimes half-decent beer & their chocolate truffles are the only saving grace for this poor unfortunate race.
In conclusion.....Of course, you know that in truth, & in spite of my anti-rants above, that I love all peoples......aside from Germans & South Africans naturally.
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