tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229920642024-03-08T05:32:43.828+08:00Life of JeffThis Blog (after fat, forty and fired) is going to capture the life of Jeff. Hopefully it will provide some laughs and will act as an archive for any grandkids on my life and the lives of their parents and associated others. The "Kids" are already restiveaquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-2019494545016647352009-01-30T23:39:00.002+09:002009-01-30T23:42:00.842+09:00well B....... me - another year has passedthis is the forgotten blog, but certainly not the finished blog. i suspect the final version might just go into my grave or a fire pit somewhere.<br /><br />I am still alive and the story continues to develop but i have not been inclined to post.<br /><br />one day it might all come out with a rush - till then?aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-21902138696999257912008-01-09T17:13:00.001+09:002008-01-09T17:26:46.718+09:001997 - time to move on "again"while Carnarvon was an interesting place to live and work and we managed to take in the best of the region's tourism attractions - Mt Augustus, Exmouth and the NW Cape and west coast with its fantastic coral reef and other attractions, Coral Bay (and Marnie/Tony) and Shark Bay and Denham/Monkey Mia (and its dolphins) - the time had come to consider my career.<br /><br />There appeared to be an opportunity for me to take over as the CEO of the Development Commission (although this was never tested) but I did not think i could stay in Carnarvon for a further 3-5 years which would have been required if I had of taken this role. So i applied for some jobs and I was fortunate enough to get employed by Woodside. I joined them on 7 July 1997 and worked initially on securing the government approvals for LNG 4 & 5. Sue and the girls came back a few weeks later and Sue got another position within the Government.<br /><br />As it turned out my job was a god-send. It enabled us to come back to Perth and it was fundamentally better working for a company like this than staying in the Government. The opportunities and financial rewards offered were fantastic.<br /><br />We moved into our old house (after the tenants did the bunk and i spent three weeks fixing it up). It didnt take us long to realise that it was going to be too small for us. The girls were both growing up and we needed more room.<br /><br />We started looking at properties in the area (as well as anywhere around Perth within 5km of the city. After we had looked at 30-50 places I started to think we might have to build a new house, but land was not easy to come by. In her usual fashion, once she gets a bee in her bonnet, Sue went to work calling real estate agents. Again as fate would have it, she called an agent on the day he was going to talk to someone about a sub-division of a block off the back of their house and he asked if we wanted to come along.<br /><br />We went - and as they say the rest is history - we bought the "block", holding it with a $5000 deposit. It took nearly 12 months for the block to actually be sub-divided but we made a tidy capital gain in that period. Once we had the block we built a new house.aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-6789954142403372312007-11-10T02:24:00.000+09:002007-11-22T19:41:56.400+09:001995 - 1997 - life in the countryin mid 1995 i got a job in a regional area of WA (the Gascoyne region) and we moved to Carnarvon. In the end this turned out to be a great move, but it wasnt without its challenges. For a start I ended up in court but perhaps more challenging is "migrating" to a new place. God knows how people move away from families to new continents "forever".<br /><br />the girls were young, and despite having lived in the country sue was relatively naive. We took food which was actually cheaper on the supermarket shelves in the town we went to (we might just have got lucky).<br /><br />although we only spent two years there they were good years on reflection. Life was good, the environment was great, we had the party house and some good parties and the kids had some experiences they might never have had and especially some close encounters with animals including Sharks and Snakes as well as flying planes.<br /><br />Professionally the time was interesting and fulfilling and we met and worked with some great people (Kieran and Cecilia; Chris Jones in particular). On reflection, Carnarvon was a hoot but two years were enoughaquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-89488329267679641532007-11-08T02:24:00.001+09:002007-11-08T02:25:49.285+09:001994 - a blurjust in case you are wondering - it disappeared and i dont have diaries/records to remind me of any significant eventsaquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-38037448655171143562007-11-08T02:08:00.000+09:002007-11-16T21:43:06.098+09:001995 - the earth tiltslife gets interesting in 1995. I get restless and generally this is a time "eruptions" happen in my life. Work became "boring" and i was looking for some change, but i worked in the Government so change was not its strong suit. I talked to my boss but nothing happened. By mid-year i was getting really restless. I had written a resignation note (unsigned) and stuck it under my blotter. through the year i started to "withdraw" from committees etc which i thought were useless.<br /><br />One day, it was actually a turning point in my (and our lives), the CEO of the agency turns up in my office and "instructs" me to rejoin a committee i had withdrawn from. We had a polite conversation and he left - fully thinking i would be "instructed". Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for me, i signed my letter and resigned that day.<br /><br />I had no job to go to, but i wasnt worried.<br /><br />when i got home and told Sue what i had done, she wasnt that happy. her feeling was we should have discussed it before i did it.<br /><br />My view was that it was my call. But i do recognise i could have put us all at risk.<br /><br />As fate would have it - the proverbial genie came out of nowhere and put us back on track.<br /><br />my take from this is that, generally, if you have the balls to follow your instinct life will look after youaquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-28923591446847989992007-11-08T01:58:00.000+09:002007-11-08T02:04:38.853+09:001993 - a hot yeari might be considered by most to be hot, but any new relationship usually heats things up. We spent lots of times in playgrounds (that were hot) and pizza bars (they were hot too). <br /><br />The NXR was hot - especially with the roof down.<br /><br />the kids really were babies so in a way life just "got in the way" and we gradually shifted, as everyone does, back to warm.<br /><br />In 1993 we bought our first "house". it was impetuous, but it served us well.<br /><br />1993 was the start of a new eraaquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-5772570380862539852007-06-21T23:46:00.000+08:002007-06-22T00:13:39.254+08:001993 - another new startlife is about change (even if it seemingly stays the same). the backend of 2002 and early 2003 were the foundation stones of life as we know it today. Ash was just over two and i was circa 34. I was lighter than my current state by nearly 20kgs and i certainly had more hair. I was also in the scheme of things - poor - although i was working. But i had a job, a roof over our heads and food on the table (for the first few months) in restaurants all around town.<br /><br />Early on in this period Ash and I caught the bus to daycare, i went to work, we ate out on the way home, showered/bathed, went to sleep and then did it all again the next day.<br /><br />In around March 1993 our house sold and Ash and I moved to Helen's house in Mt Hawthorn. I bought a car (a nissan NXR - great car for 2).<br /><br />Sue and i started going out seriously around this time - Georgia was ~4 and Paul would have been ~12/13 although he was not with us, as he lived with his Dad in various places in the eastern states and came over, at least in the initial years only at Xmas.<br /><br />After a while Sue and I spent more and more time together. As we were both renting (or in Sue's case house minding) we eventually decided to move in together. We did not rent together, we basically just bought a house together around October 93 i think.<br /><br />In retrospect this worked out but it could have been real interesting if our relationship hadnt worked out. As with many of the key choices we have made along the way this purchase was "impetuous" (i am not a great shopper so we did not look around much and at the time i was not that sophisticated in an investment sense) so the decision went a bit like - do you like it/is it fair value/can we afford it (yes) ok its bought.<br /><br />Everyone will remember different things about this time but my enduring memories are:<br /><ul><li>riding on the bus with Ash</li><li>telling alf and allison, Karen and I had split up</li><li>having a birthday party at the Leeming house</li><li>having to take Ash back to her own bed (in Helen's house) because she had a habit of climbing in next to me (and Sue "made" me)</li><li>georgia cowering in the corner, with a cuddly toy or doll, because i had shouted at her for something - crying (not sure why it sticks but it does)</li><li>sue and i getting around in the NXR with the roof down/off</li><li>selling the NXR - it was not a family car (another bad investment but fun while it lasted!!)</li></ul><p>When we moved in together we really began the process of trying to join families (or blending them) together. - as most people who have split and get into new relationships can attest this is never easy and we have had, and continue to this day to have, our moments. </p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-9750979698943690352007-06-16T23:21:00.000+08:002007-06-16T23:42:52.426+08:00the next lifein my life i have really had circa 3 or 4 lives (or compartments of life) these are:<br /><br /><ol><li>0-18</li><li>18 - 25</li><li>25-32</li><li>32+</li></ol><p>I have described/commented on much of the time up to time period 3. so the next life really commences in the period 32+ (circa late 1992/3).</p><p>so what happened around this time? my wife Karen and i split and after we sold our house ash (still a very little girl) and i moved into Helen's house in Mt Hawthorn. this was an older house (now worth a squillion) close to the city (and work). </p><p>in the February of 1993 i had a birthday party which many people felt was a bit strange. It was in our house and Karen (and her new boyfriend at the time - Dave) and Karen's parents and my family and sue all came (this was less than 3 months after we split up). Looking back it seems a little bit strange (but at the time it was fine).</p><p>Around this time Sue and I really started seeing each other seriously and the beginnings of a family started as she had Georgia (about 4) and Paul (older). in the beginning Sue and I, after she split from Brian, would see each other a few nights a week and there was a period when Sue looked after other peoples houses sharing one with Rhonda (a girl involved in basketball).</p><p>so the next life (and all of its joys, trials and tribulations) is about to begin</p><p> </p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-75872346058390606522007-06-16T22:47:00.000+08:002007-06-16T23:21:17.495+08:00a new (literary) startI looked at this blog today for first time in ages (you know if you type "this" wrong - often you get shit). some of what i wrote earlier was funny and some challenging, but it really is my story and it does need to be told (at least for me).<br /><br />The last real post effectively got us to the time when my ex-wife Karen and i separated. This was effectively 15 years ago so much water (and life) has poured under the bridge since then.<br /><br />So now we are going to meander down the river of life over the past 15 years.<br /><br />jeffaquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1159556106902890412006-09-30T02:54:00.000+08:002006-09-30T03:21:15.726+08:00LIFE in 2006 - Did Anyone Say a BLOG had to stay in Chronological Order?Time on my hands tonight to reflect on life (rw charged).<br /><br />In March, Daughter X was looking for cheap entertainment. In between Daughter Y was being uncomfortable with the story to date. Number 1 person in life has never really commented, so here goes (out of order - if history annoys you get over it).<br /><br /><u>LIFE IN 2006</u><br /><br />so what the hell happened between 1993 and 2006? Some of it is described below but much will forever go unstated (at least here).<br /><br />In 2006:<br /><ul><li>we live in a different house to 1993- yes there is a story to this</li><li>the girls are turning 18 (G) and 16 (A) and the Boy - P - is turning a bigger number</li><li>sue works in a different place</li><li>Jeff works in the same place </li></ul><p>the most significant changes happen to individuals. some grow and some change (and ultimately diminish - this is scary). the girls cleary have grown the most - both transitioning from pupae to butterfly in front of everyone. P has grown (at least when last seen) but largely in the same frame, as did S & J (who really are both in diminish like it or not).</p><p>on my own i have grown and reduced within the range from 90 -100kg so who knows what this looks like from the outside. remember when A was born i was 75Kg and had been for 10 years (some "transformation"). Today i was 94kg.</p><p>I know i have to fill in the gap but i need to do this in a meaningful and sensitive manner (but not tonight)</p><p>J</p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1155654079248819852006-08-15T22:46:00.000+08:002006-08-15T23:01:19.270+08:00Next Chapter - Moving On<span style="font-family:arial;">I sat here for a while tonight reviewing where i had gotten to in my last real post actually in April. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In between i talked to Georgia on MSN Messenger - how the world has moved on - and i am going to make one more small step on Jeff's journey tonight before i go to bed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">____________________________________________________</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:arial;">One Door Closes - another always opens (Alice in Wonderland, Sliding Doors for analogy) in my experience.</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">While i was not in a relationship at the time that my marriage came undone i had developed a friendship with a person i worked with (sue) through a common interest in exercise. </span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Sue was an Australian Basketball player - a far more accomplished athlete than I if the truth be told - and we would run together during our lunch hours in Kings Park (a fantastic place in Perth overlooking our great city). </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Sue is the mother of Georgia and Paul. At the time my marriage came undone she was in another relationship with Georgia's dad, Brian.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Sue and I have been together now since early in 1993. We have never married and we are unlikely to but we have loved each other and we have managed to provide - generally - a stable and loving (but at sometimes challenging life) for all of the kids. Like all family relationships this journey has had both sweet and bitter moments, some laughs and a little tragedy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">The next chapter in this Blog will commence the journey into this relationship.</span>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1155651261722568572006-08-15T22:07:00.000+08:002006-08-15T22:14:21.736+08:00why has it been so hard to write the next chapter?we talked about my life story blog in the car the other day and i noted that i had not written anything in it for quite a while (try May). I am not sure why it has been so hard to write the next chapter - but i have some time over the next month or so to think about it so it is going to come.<br /><br />My stars for tomorrow suck so you will just have to wait till next time.<br /><strong></strong>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1148148111463058012006-05-21T01:58:00.000+08:002006-05-21T02:03:45.290+08:00Blogging - Whyspent some time tonight looking around in blog land and wondering why anyone actually does this. In my case Life of Jeff was to be autobiographical. has been quite difficult to get past the initial posts, but hey who said writing your life story was going to be easy (or plain vanilla). More chapters will come but not today. For today the stars may just have to do<br /><br />21 may 2006<br /><a href="http://dsl.optusnet.com.au/r/co=aus_horoscopes_daily_aq;/lifestyle/horoscopes/daily/aq/"></a><a href="http://dsl.optusnet.com.au/r/co=aus_horoscopes_daily_aq;/lifestyle/horoscopes/daily/aq">Aquarius</a><br /><br />It's time to let go of those things that you think you need to retain. How can your highest good come to pass if you're relentlessly clutching to old beliefs and ways of life that just don't suit you anymore?aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1146244370287189102006-04-29T01:01:00.000+08:002006-04-29T01:12:51.343+08:00Fatherhood (3) – new born to Adult in a nano-second<p>Sometimes as a father/parent it will seem like time is compressed and on other occasions it will almost surely be the reverse.<br /><br />During the first 12 months of Ashleigh’s life things were really relatively easy. We had a nice place, supportive families and we were bumbling our way along as most new parents do. Things that will scare you or be memorable include:<br /></p><ul><li>Bathing a new born baby</li><li>Changing a new born baby</li><li>Taking your baby in the bath or shower with you</li><li>Feeding a new born baby (as a women on the breast) or as a dad via a bottle (perhaps with expressed milk or formula)</li><li>Trying to get a baby to sleep</li><li>The first night a baby sleeps through ( say six hours – this will generally scare the S…. out of you)</li><li>Taking your baby to the clinic for checkups and immunizations (there is nothing like the cry of a newborn when jabbed with a needle)</li><li>Lovemaking after the birth</li></ul><p>After about 10 months, Karen went back to work. For a period we continued to develop as a family but it wasn’t long before some major changes occurred simultaneously in all of our lives:<br /></p><ul><li>New job for Karen (with shift work)</li><li>Decision to build a new house (and as a result add additional financial pressures and workloads to the relationship)</li><li>Selling our house and moving in with my parents (oh by the way I had a vasectomy during this period – too late I hear you say)</li></ul><p>Our new house was finally built (very nice it was) and we moved in. We started to turn it into a home but for lots of reasons our relationship began to change and within a short period of time reached a point of no return. With the benefit of 20:20 hindsight doing all of these things (at least in my opinion) together was a huge mistake. However, it took some time for this to actually result in any material changes. No individual was to blame but also all individuals were to blame. Relationship don’t break themselves they are broken by the people (or the pressures that are created) within them.<br /><br />I remember the night this occurred vividly (and it was another time I cried as a man). There is nothing like the breakdown of a marriage/long-term relationship in terms of emotional “pain”. I personally felt like my heart had been wrenched from my chest when we took a decision to separate late one night.<br /><br />However, as a person I am a rational/pragmatic (some say cold) person. Once the decision to separate was taken there was no turning back (at least for me) and my focus then from the next morning turned to “solving the problem”. <br /><br />Remember we had Ashleigh who was in day care (~18 months old), a relatively new house, one car, little or no money and we were both working (Karen – working shift work).<br /><br />So how do you solve such problems? There are many different ways – none of them right, but some are clearly better in my view in the long-term than others. How do you judge this? Time (and a future chapter?) might provide some insights.<br /><br />My initial solution was to do the following:<br /></p><ul><li>Take a week’s leave from work (time to sort out immediate issues)</li><li>Take responsibility for Ashleigh - I had a 8-5 job near the daycare whereas Karen was working shifts</li><li>Work on agreeing amicably how to separate our worldly possessions </li><li>Work on trying to build a platform for a long-term friendly relationship with Karen (and between us and other parties)</li><li>Put our house on the market (and find a new place to live)</li><li>Get back to work (and act like nothing had happened)</li></ul><p>For the first couple of months Ash and I lived in our house and we caught the bus to work (to the city) as Karen had the car. I would drop Ash at Daycare and pick her up and take her on the bus home. More often than not we would stop in a restaurant on the way home – this was a good way for us to spend time together at the end of the day and for us to eat good meals (without me having to cook/wash up). I am sure that this has contributed to her current fetish for Takeaway or going out to restaurants.<br /><br />It wasn’t long before we sold the house, I got a car (Nissan NxR – part of what I now refer to as my redundancy package) and Ash and I moved to a house owned by a friend/work colleague in Mt Hawthorn (thank you Helen) and the next phase of our lives began to take shape.<br /><br />Karen also moved on – moving in with a friend (Sarah) and settling into a routine which meant that she would ultimately spend more time with Ashleigh.<br /><br />To our great credit (my view) we managed, despite all of the great personal hurt/emotion and interests of other parties, to separate amicably and to make decisions that were beneficial to us and in particular Ashleigh with a longer term view in mind. While in the moment this was often difficult (and not understood by others around us) this has subsequently proven to have been one of the “best” actions taken by us collectively. You can’t plan this and you are lucky to achieve it, but if you can do this it will save everyone additional emotional anguish, a hundred headaches and thousands and thousands of dollars.<br /><br />As a father during this period all I sought to do was to be a something consistent in Ashleigh’s life and to provide time for the turbulence which inevitably occurs in such times to subside. No-one ever stopped loving Ashleigh during this time, but everyone "managed" the time somewhat differently.</p><p>Young children (say anyone less than 30 - just kidding) are always the most vulnerable in such situations as they have no control and no ability to influence the environment around them. Babies (<20) often can’t choose, all of their decisions are made for them and we can only hope that the adults around them do the right things (unfortunately this is not always what happens).<br /><br />During this time Karen and I were supported by family and friends and all of these people helped in some way (so thank you to all).<br /><br /> </p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1145901879289408512006-04-25T02:04:00.000+08:002006-04-28T23:50:51.123+08:00MEN are from PENIS, WOMEN are from VAGINA - Views on Fatherhood and Families (part 2)Fatherhood – a strange concept with no training really (same for mothers but really much worse in my view)<br /><br />Fathers have, no doubt at least in my experience, the easiest role in the birthing of a child and their subsequent parenting. There will undoubtedly be some exceptions but let’s work with the majority.<br /><br />Being a father is actually quite a strange concept in reality – at least early on. Initially you are essentially completely redundant (in fact in many species by now you are long dead (praying mantis) or long gone. However, if you have any perseverance skills (ie – here after ejaculation) you will undoubtedly have a role to play. What it will be is subject to circumstance (a bit like the lottery) and a much grander order.<br /><br />Being a parent is yet another equally foreign concept for many (you are not the dad/mum genealogically yet you are a “parent” by relationship)<br /><br />Fatherhood in reality (actually it is unreal)<br /><br />Baby Ashleigh comes home – remember this is a little baby girl with which her parents have no real experience like most other first time parents but unlike pretty much anything in their lives to date. Generally, the baby arrives at a time when you (as a couple) may actually be at your most selfish – this may not apply to older mums and dads who are actually pining (but no less inexperienced in the realities) for a child.<br /><br />No baby comes with a manual or a money back guarantee. Therefore, the recipients are bringing a child home with absolutely no protections (legally) for the remainder of all related parties lives – no matter how beautiful, destructive/disruptive, headstrong they may be – or alternatively how dysfunctional the lives of the “adults” involved may be.<br /><br />This obviously (not) is a wonderful foundation to a relationship which in today’s terms could last anywhere between 0-100 years.<br /><br />Personal experience of Fatherhood<br /><br />Despite being an “educated” type –it turns out I was/am a complete idiot (or so it seems) at fatherhood.<br /><br />[An aside - I think WA/Australian society needs a rethink here. We ask prospective drivers to complete some training. This requirement, now proposed at least in WA (the nanny state) to be up to 120 hours driver training on the road which it is proposed is aimed at better road safety. This proposal if/when implemented is likely to have a duel/triple benefit. It should reduce adolescent (and other) road trauma/death as well as reducing unwanted births. It will also reduce marital cheating. Everyone will be way too busy driving around to be engaging in sex – call it love making if you prefer (sneaky)].<br /><br />However, if we don’t change – the inevitable biological cycle here (ex driver training) we allow any horny girl/boy to bring a child into the world without any training/test (and by the way our social system supports them).<br /><br />So let’s get beyond BIOLOGICAL.<br /><br />Quite often serious relationships (and many not so serious relationships) between two people lead to significant others. So if you get into a relationship at anytime you could be a father/mother or indirectly a parent.<br /><br />Now don’t let me paint this experience as completely negative. Children are actually great and they more often than not have a positive impact on females as well as, many relationships, but for me personally as I have said I could have gone without.<br /><br />Notwithstanding this I became the father of 1 and the immediate parent of 2 (and in fact 3 if you count Paul). Both girls were beautiful (as all females are). Paul was for many years a “distant” child.<br /><br />Ashleigh was dark and independent and has always been able to navigate like a GPRS. Georgia was fair and initially not so independent (indeed early in her life she needed instructions to get to the end of the drive). However, as time passed navigation became less of an issue. Children learn at different rates for different reasons. In the end, our family had one risk taker and one not risk taker.<br /><br />The former (G) would try anything and crash and burn till she got it, the other (A) would try things, but not really, till she actually had mastered it (worked it out). Examples exist – one learnt to rollerblade and ride a bike by bruising her butt, the other never fell once (was nearly 6 before her dad took off the trainer wheels when one day she came and said Dad you can take them off and she never fell on her butt once).<br /><br />Both had pretty much the same upbringing if you discount the first couple of years for G, but both are wonderfully different. Each is a fine young lady now (apparently – if you close your eyes/ears), but only time will tell how their lives turn out.<br /><br />So what was my role as a father/parent in this great game of life - ie, their transition from babies to adolescent women (can you call them that)?<br /><br />Provider, Mentor, Meany - I can’t tell really. All of the above would be my claim.<br /><br />Am I a real father/parent I am not sure. Sometimes I have truly wondered. What does it take to be a real father/parent? Could I have been different(surely I could have but would I have been better). If I had not been here would it have actually made any difference – I don’t know?<br /><br />Well I guess it is only your kids who can mark your scorecard as a father/parent (so here’s your chance). But remember – this is my Blog and I will keep blogging.aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1144863941862817542006-04-13T01:38:00.002+08:002008-08-05T15:30:03.734+08:00Getting to Fatherhood<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong>[Please interpret from my often narrow male perspective. This is not a direct commentary on any women in my life past or present – ie, ex-wife, my child, associated children, current “partner”.]<br /><br /></strong>Struck me after reviewing my last post (and some direct feedback) that actually I had left something out (chronologically at least) in moving from sport into the Fatherhood blog (and ultimately the parent blog).<br /><br />So let me retrace my steps for a moment (there are some insights here I think into various characters, including me, who feature – now and in future).<br /><br />Today a lot of children are born out of wedlock and this is not viewed, by many, as a significant issue. However, some people still view marriage as a sign of commitment and they often do this prior to the birth of any child.<br /><br />In reality marriage, given divorce/relationship breakdown statistics, is not a precursor to or indeed a success factor for, parenting (or fatherhood). There is more than enough evidence to suggest that great marriages can have bad parents associated within them or successfully married men/women can be crap fathers/mothers/parents.<br /><br />Frankly based on my personal experience, success here is not related to gender, marriage or indeed relationship to another adult – it hinges on your relationship with the child (having others around particularly other adults simply serves to support/complicate this as the case may be).<br /><br />With respect “adults” relationships are always tricky. What is an appropriate level of commitment? How is it demonstrated? Is not cheating/being faithful enough or is marriage required to demonstrate “true” commitment?<br /><br />In my case, I was a typical youngish male (my assessment) who was not prepared to commit at the time (at least verbally) and I still have “issues” with this. Yet I was (and still am), as indicated previously serially monogamous.<br /><br />After Karen and I worked together and then “lived together” – ie moving backwards and forwards between the respective houses of our parents - we eventually became a “couple” living together in our own place. This typically, is the first sign (at least for many women/men?) of true relationship commitment (ie, means house leases, shared space – bathrooms, joint music collections, shared financial concerns etc).<br /><br />Karen and I eventually got our own place. Our moving history over time turned out to be extensive (and deserving perhaps of its own separate blog like the car analogy – where/what you live in helps define you – but let’s see).<br /><br />I can’t be exact about which was the first property in the chain or when (think it was a small flat in Wembley) but suffice to say we eventually made the first step.<br /><br />Now keep this in mind – I met Karen at work (and then quit to go to uni).The person in her life before me was a long term beau (training to be a doctor who appeared to have “real” prospects).<br /><br />Just like any women, men often have an internal clock running. I had my own little biological clock running and I had declared internally (and to my family) I would not marry before I was 25 at least.<br /><br /><strong>Story 1 (others later?)<br /></strong><br />I recall getting spewed on before getting married and nearly crashing out of a window as a result. How did this happen? Single Bed, crap Greek food and staying at home for a night (after moving out).<br /><br />Karen was violently ill (food poisoning no doubt) following a night at a Greek restaurant. Wake up from deep sleep (I was pissed no doubt) with vomit raining down on chest – I kid you not (yuk). Wake up, bounce out of bed and go for door – big mistake! Not in our new place but at my parents home (door = window). Fortunately, there is bookshelf in way but disoriented bounce around room to find door. Ended up in shower, cleaning both of us up. Was it funny – not at time but most relationships will have a spew story. Might amuse some of the readers however.<br /><br /><strong>Marriage Proposal</strong> – every marriage has to have one. Some are memorable, some are truly forgettable, some are very public, but most are private. Notwithstanding this, like having a baby, how do most people actually get there?<br /><br /><strong>My case</strong> – left up to me I would probably never have proposed (like I would never have had children). This says more about me – than any other character you will read about in this blog.<br /><br />To be completely truthful I really can’t remember the proposal – that’s how memorable it was for me. My recollection is that it went something like this. Karen - we need to get married or I am going to leave as (my clock is ticking and) I need a commitment – ie if you don’t agree we will split up. Jeff - OK let’s get married (it was late and this was the easy response at the time). Obviously this is the easy path. Is it the “right” path. Personally. I don’t think so.<br /><br /><strong>[Note for all who follow - BIG MISTAKE for all parties – my view. ] Everyone needs to make own call. Advice – tough decisions up front have significantly less downside later.<br /><br /></strong>Did my reticence to commit mean I was not in “love” – please define this term for me - or “committed” to Karen or indeed a long term relationship? In my opinion – NO. I was there, I was not cheating and I was happy to go forward on that basis (and by the way I was not really thinking about children – my own or those of anyone else). Was my “<strong>capitulation</strong>” a true commitment (in retrospect – I think not).</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><br /><strong>Boys/men</strong> - you need to take into account the most significant clock in the world – the biological clock – is ticking in the Garden of Eden. It won't matter if you are in complete denial, have your head up you’re A… or elsewhere. The clock is ticking you will almost certainly be confronted by the commitment challenge at sometime – if you don’t meet this challenge I suspect you will live a life completely bereft of meaningful female companionship (or you will fail the “how do I know you are gay test”).<br /><br />After the commitment to marriage you are required (generally) to deliver on your promise. Remember I said generally – I know at least one male who has been engaged for at least 12 years to the same women (a record in my world at least) and who is still not married.<br /><br /><strong>My Case</strong> – the planning for the marriage began immediately after the proposal (fish on hook?). Given the circumstances – no ring when proposal was made. This is often the first challenge both financially and from a design perspective. (advice – plan for wedding, eternity and double eternity components – you will certainly be asked to recommit)<br /><br />The wedding planning process is either easy or a real challenge. In some instances it’s a relationship breaking (immediately or in longer term) event. In our case it was challenging but not immediately relationship breaking.<br /><br />In Australia, the concept of arranged marriage (and an associated relationship – commercial/strategic – at a family level) is quite rare. Notwithstanding this there will undoubtedly be challenges in arranging a wedding. Following is my list of challenges:<br /><br />· The weddees – (you and your partner) generally are at a stage in your life when you can’t afford to fund a wedding in your own right – and therefore in a position to tell everyone else to FO. This may not apply to 2nd/3rd marriages – recalcitrant’s or slow learners?<br />· The Parents generally have a lot of residual favours to repay, hence all of the “family blow-ins” you don’t know and never met who get to turn up on your “special day” (and drop their trousers etc). As a soon to be married person – the guest list is likely to be your first real challenge as a negotiator <strong>[here’s my final offer to “our” kids – you choose the list anytime/anywhere we pay. Well at least for the ladder – take it or leave it]<br /></strong>· Generally, the second major challenge will be who gets to put crap on you via the speeches (and for how long – that is before they piss off your family - who paid for dinner/drinks - and all of your respective mates).<br />· You and your potential partner will undoubtedly not agree on the guest list and more specifically their location at the reception (some of her girlfriends undoubtedly suck – in some instances you may be among the chosen ones; and some of your mates really are “Burley” – oily and good fish attractors - and thus not front row candidates)<br />· The cost of the event itself – girls (my experience) spend more – dress, shoes, bag, make up …. Boy = new shoes, Suit (then flowers/presents for everyone else).<br />· Where, when, music etc will also be an issue<br /><br /><strong><u>So what was our Wedding experience?</u></strong><br /><br />· The pre-wedding was interesting. Essentially I had no long-term mates (I know this says more about me than anyone else). My best man on the day (S Green) was a football colleague. We were close in boy terms - we played in same teams, roomed together in Asia – I slept in lift lobby so he could be alone with girl (that’s real commitment)) – but I have never seen/heard from him since wedding. I kid you not.<br />· Preparing for the Wedding – bit like first child experience. S had flat near wedding location. Arrive, suit ready to go, new shoes, flowers for lapel etc. Shower, dress, bend to tie up shoes – split suit pant (no joke). S is bachelor, only pin in house is thumbtack – where does one stick one of these? Spent remainder of wedding with cheeks clenched together and legs crossed<br />· The wedding ceremony – fantastic. Bride looks stunning. Setting is fabulous (University of WA Grounds behind Hackett Hall)<br /><br />the garden where it happened - nothing has changed<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bIFdA7UuCpp_j2DHqWPhgk3We1B3Gkr9vrgvx5XEUY08ZgmQQ8ox1gJweB6PbUxbQHhcY82M4G9Vu5YqEbIM9ZzGfaYXVmKGfiCGgnlZQyVlU9v47gUaEOSnFPH6npyC7OYcPw/s1600-h/IMG_0005.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bIFdA7UuCpp_j2DHqWPhgk3We1B3Gkr9vrgvx5XEUY08ZgmQQ8ox1gJweB6PbUxbQHhcY82M4G9Vu5YqEbIM9ZzGfaYXVmKGfiCGgnlZQyVlU9v47gUaEOSnFPH6npyC7OYcPw/s320/IMG_0005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230931285011194258" /></a><br /><br />Photos taken here<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOvDQB0ZSW5_T1p9k88qc5_tYTy1aIhaR8V6WRry0XHDAtQD9xJUXPTyzmHWxLkO-hx7R0ySTXp_18bvFK1wil3chT74uqVK5Dlba5urxlZgi2hiqP3pzKRnG3JP1F7YrHvXeAg/s1600-h/IMG_0006.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOvDQB0ZSW5_T1p9k88qc5_tYTy1aIhaR8V6WRry0XHDAtQD9xJUXPTyzmHWxLkO-hx7R0ySTXp_18bvFK1wil3chT74uqVK5Dlba5urxlZgi2hiqP3pzKRnG3JP1F7YrHvXeAg/s320/IMG_0006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230931289578713602" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfakc8GHVcPMo10MFJKapa8zqH-Gr1TTmdMwGQqavkGDCUelHl5kZZVL6zKk9HTCtXuulkqRzJqNrv6HtrRJ79-HldKGkbX4YkwPugSUTx7PWhah_jF-rwrCQmjabAM0oHS2cEMQ/s1600-h/IMG_0008.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfakc8GHVcPMo10MFJKapa8zqH-Gr1TTmdMwGQqavkGDCUelHl5kZZVL6zKk9HTCtXuulkqRzJqNrv6HtrRJ79-HldKGkbX4YkwPugSUTx7PWhah_jF-rwrCQmjabAM0oHS2cEMQ/s320/IMG_0008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230931310719818370" /></a><br /><br />This is hackett hall. i had my graduation photos taken here as well<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZcX9iw-k7Jv8TxmOhAHiLPOxAVZJcaLAbu61QTfI_ZF5x79-FcbGoYhOIiuuhELIRSEUhTmUbNQgYLLYhCGmJhFVL7qOjOrcQdkShW0YbTrehi0GYMwd2iF9g0cavM5I1bStmw/s1600-h/IMG_0007.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZcX9iw-k7Jv8TxmOhAHiLPOxAVZJcaLAbu61QTfI_ZF5x79-FcbGoYhOIiuuhELIRSEUhTmUbNQgYLLYhCGmJhFVL7qOjOrcQdkShW0YbTrehi0GYMwd2iF9g0cavM5I1bStmw/s320/IMG_0007.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230931301343678370" /></a><br /><br />· The reception – OK. Reception hall is now a hospital (heart surgery I think – ironic? Your call)<br />· Honeymoon – unmemorable (my fault I suspect).<br /><br />Overall, a wholly forgettable event. I loved Karen but I could well have done this without the formality.<br /><br />Following marriage we “settled” into our relationship/domestic life. Babies came later.</span>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1143043470457566352006-03-23T00:00:00.000+08:002006-04-28T23:49:53.820+08:00MEN are from PENIS, WOMEN are from VAGINA - Views on Fatherhood and Families (part 1)<p><strong>Postcript (27/3) - advice for all bloggers. Writing a blog is not like writing a Book or even painting a picture (you don't wait till publication/showing to see a response). Before i move onto the next blog i need to make a clarification:</strong></p><p><strong>There is a fundamental difference between not wanting children (generally) and having an unwanted child (specific). </strong></p><p><strong>For the record - i have never had an unwanted child (Ashleigh) or even unwanted other children (Georgia/Paul). But can i still seriously contemplate another life (and all of their little complications/challenges/joys) without them - definitely. </strong></p><p><strong>________________________________________________________</strong></p><p><strong>the original blog</strong></p><p><strong>Now before all the women who might read this get up in arms remember this is a man’s perspective. I can’t tell yours – thank god. Don’t shout at me if you don’t like it - tell your own story.<br /></strong><br />Ok - here is the wisdom of a man who wanted no children, had a vasectomy too late to save himself from contributing to the formation of his own child and ended up in a relationship with children involved (take it or leave it).<br /><br />How do you ever know whether you should be a father or be a family man? </p><p>Part 1 is obviously much more challenging than part 2 (in theory at least) but then you know as the book says according to my translation - MEN are from PENIS, WOMEN are from VAGINA. At least that’s my view.<br /><br />I love women, actually really love women. I love kids. However, frankly I knew from a young age that I did not want to have children (kids/kids friends are squirming again) but they have heard this before so it should not be a shock to them.<br /><br />So how is it that I end up in a family with one of my own (Ashleigh) and two I inherited (Georgia and Paul)? <strong>My ANSWER – Man are from PENIS (and generally in a Pooh sense ”of little brain”).<br /></strong><br />Would I change things if I could – honestly – yes.<br /><br />I love my kids and my family and I would never send them back but (and it is a huge but) would I live my life differently if I had my chance all over again – YES. Call me selfish, call me stupid but call me dishonest – I don’t think so.<br /><br />Now that’s said lets talk about Fatherhood and Families.<br /><br />As you are aware (if you are following the story) I had a very close encounter with fatherhood on the very first instance my P…. got anywhere near a V….. Did that shape my views – I don’t know, frankly I don’t think so.<br /><br />My daughter was born in 1990 a number of years after Karen and I married. Karen and I had already talked about my views on children (at least that’s my recollection) and I had already canvassed the vasectomy issue with my Doctor but he ruled it out on the basis that no doctor would vasectomise a healthy man (at 21 or 22). The reason for this was that we (mere men) are not smart/mature enough to make this call at such a young age. Apparently, I would have needed to see a Shrink - perhaps I should have – to get this procedure even contemplated.<br /><br />So time passes and the biological clock ticks and then the biological time-bomb goes off (every man needs to be aware that this is going to happen in any relationship – the clock always ticks and the bomb ALWAYS goes off). The issue here is whether you are the one standing there with you Dick in your hand (if you are around you are likely to be – remember you have a little brain) when it does.<br /><br /><strong>[not part of my story but interesting all the same in this context - it seems that some men are actually not the ones who do the fathering when this happens (read the news if you don’t believe me) but they are the Family man who ends up “providing” for the children often unwittingly for ever – Double Jeopardy I call that]<br /></strong><br />Well boys and girls – the bomb went off (in our case probably in the Xmas/New Year period) – holiday times are always especially dangerous. More booze + More time = better sex (always).<br /><br />Nine months (29 August) later a beautiful girl enters the world (at ~11.00am – aren’t Caesareans beautiful – but this was required medically).<br /><br />The entre to Fatherhood starts much earlier than this though – and it will last forever.<br /><br />Remember idiot (of two heads and only a small brain between them) you started this. So how does it work – really.<br /><br /><strong>First three months</strong> – you and your penis spend a lot of time alone together – morning sickness is usually a very serious challenge to love making<br /><br /><strong>Second three months</strong> – your love life may actually pick up. Pregnant women are truly beautiful and often sexy and sexual during this time<br /><br /><strong>Third three months</strong> – you’ll be lucky. But you will get to be close to the mother and developing baby at parenting classes. If you didn’t know when you start you will know at the end how to breathe.<br /><br />PS – if a caesarean is likely, breathing is generally a complete waste of time. If you faint they give you oxygen anyways.<br /><br />So how do babies actually come into the world and how do you become a real father and a family man? There is no definitive answer but here is mine:<br /><br /><strong>First</strong>, you go massively into debt – you buy a bigger car and a baby car seat, a new pram, you decorate your whole house (hope you can paint), you buy lots of toys, clothes etc.<br /><br /><strong>Second</strong>, you go to hospital – now this is generally a challenge. At least it was for me. Picture this. Ashleigh is going to be delivered at a prescribed time (Doctor had a golf game later I am sure). So Karen and I arrive at hospital do the check-in thing and then a nurse whips her away to prepare her for the birth. Poor old dad (he of little brain) is also whipped away and given a scrub gown (hope you all look good in green) and left alone in a windowless room with only his thoughts and a “visitor book” (I kid you not). This book has the last minute musings of expectant fathers (god I would love to publish that book). It was like some “life row” novel of boys/men whose lives were about to change forever in an hour/minute, along with that of their wife/partner. For the record – I was scared for Karen, for myself and I cried from loneliness and fear. This is one of the few times this has happened as a man but the other times will be revealed in the story.<br /><br /><strong>Third</strong>, the real fun starts. You are actually going to become a dad (sucker). Again our story goes like this. Some very capable doctors (lady surgeons) are to perform the operation. I get collected from my private (life row cell) and taken to the theatre. On entry you are blinded by the light. Theatres are generally very light/bright places – all very surgical really and they have a funny smell. This theatre is actually jam packed with people – my sense was two teams – the green team and the red team (about six of each) all in gowns with gloves and face masks (quite eerie really). Now Karen is laying on a bed all ready to go. I get to stand behind her head looking down towards her tummy which is painted brown and there is a screen of sorts halfway down her tummy.<br /><br />Surgeon almost says ready steady go and makes first cut. This is truly an amazing procedure – at least if you are the bloke involved. Say five minutes later a baby is born. Don’t let anyone tell you different all babies are ugly at birth. Babies are born yukky. However, C-section babies are prettier as they are generally not “squashed” through a small opening for X hours. The two team work closely together and once baby is breathing she is presented to mother to hold (ah). Lots of Photos are taken.<br /><br /><strong>Fourth</strong>, you spend a bit of time learning the basics – about 4-7 days - then you get to take the baby home (scary stuff). Boys – how many of you know how to fix/nuture your cars? Well being a dad is a lot like being a car owner.<br /><br /><strong>Fifth</strong> - you become a <strong>FAMILY MAN</strong></p><p>This will be the subject of Part 2 and further parts.<br /><br /></p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141927956876641432006-03-10T02:09:00.000+08:002006-03-10T02:12:36.896+08:00sporting achievements (and not)This boy achieved much, but possible not as much as was really possible. Anyone who really looked would see consistently good performance for a long period of time by a one-eyed man. Couldn’t play racquet sports for nuts (ball always came from left – not the good side) and same applies to cricket (which by the way is a complete waste of time – personal view only). However, other athletic activities were something I could do (generally pretty well). Never focused enough on one thing to be great, but generally good.<br /><br />Soccer was my sport. I played State as a junior as you already know and I played state as a senior, not sure how many games but I traveled in Asia with State and played several tournaments in Thailand (king’s cup) as well as other tours including one where we beat the Indonesian National Team.<br /><br />Essentially I played soccer competitively from when I was 9 (say 1969) till my daughter Ashleigh was born in 1990. Got to travel, made some good friends and a huge number of acquaintances (not an easy word to spell). Visited some interesting/exotic places and had many laughs. During my career I also became a pretty good coach and taught quite a few kids as well as other coaches about the game.<br /><br />In early 1991, when my daughter was only young, I gave up all associations with the game. Do I regret it – no, do I miss it – no. do I still love the game – yes.<br /><br />So here are some vignettes of my life as “more than an average sportsman”.<br /><br /><strong>Personal Injuries – few if any (however, some imparted on others)<br /><br /></strong>I was lucky with injuries in my whole career – I only cracked an ankle bone, broke some ribs and suffered some relatively minor muscle tears. I also suffered some back problems after the infamous flying car incident. I have a fairly high pain threshold it seems<br /><br />With the cracked ankle I played off the bench the week I cracked my ankle (with plenty of physio, strapping and some pain killers). Seems a bit ridiculous in retrospect but I wanted to and the doctor couldn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t. <br /><br />With the broken ribs I trained after one week of breaking ribs and played after 2 (had to put a guard on the rib but it was ok). Greek boys in the team took 4-5 weeks off with runny nose (no bottle/heart really). Funny bit (for those that know me) is that I generally sneeze a lot – didn’t sneeze at all for about 4 wks (unheard of before or since).<br /><br />Otherwise escaped my career with no knee, ankle, back or other problems – blessed it seems<br /><br /><strong>Injuries to others – sometimes made for a laugh (you know sick humour)<br /><br /></strong>As a junior I traveled to Tasmania, played on Derwent River, underneath that famous bridge (can’t remember its name it’s that famous) the ship crashed into.<br /><br />Weather was shocking ~5 degrees and pitch was wet, wind was howling. Two incidents in the same game – make u laugh if they didn’t happen to you. Remember we are all under 16 boys/men. First incident, team mate gets hit in nuts with a ball from about a metre away with a ball – immediately unconscious/fainted. [For girls reading this it is like getting hit in T or B]. Trainer runs out (B McShane) and proffers the magic sponge. I reckon it had icicles on it. Boy on ground has his nuts turned instantly to blue icecubes (wasn’t funny really but we all laughed later). <br /><br />Same game – separate incident – our winger (guy who hides a lot on edge of field while everyone else runs around madly trying to get ball and pass it to him) gets tripped about 12 metres from goal, slides and crashes head first into goal post – result splits two front top teeth into a v. Again not funny really (in retrospect) but he did look funny for a few weeks. Same idiot went to scale a turnstile at the Hobart airport and crashed face first onto the ground (clumsy I say) – as it turns out he never made it as a senior player.<br /><br /><strong>Asian Tours (more than 1 trip)</strong><br /><br />Now boys grow into men (at least some of them do). So later in life this boy travels SE Asia with a team. We visit Sabah – play games in Kota Kinabulu and Sandakan (one scary plane flight), travel to Manila (great trip – if u remember) and then Kuala Lumpur. Couple of funny stories:<br /><br /><strong>#1 (close your eyes kids if u r squeamish) – boys will be filthy bastards given a chance.</strong><br /><br />Played in Kota Kinabalu. Monsoonal rain (but ~15k people at game – no room to move outside of pitch). We won, but it was more like water polo than soccer as you could not kick ball on ground. After game finishes we go back to hotel for shower/bath. Everyone is sharing rooms (and hence bathrooms). First step, u need to run shower/bath – first bloke stands in Bathtub and turns shower on – next minute (and I kid u not) a “lizard” runs out of the plug hole, up his leg and body and ends up on the top of his head – it was only smallish (say 6”) but it scared the shit out of him and everyone else watching including me. Next laugh - two blokes (nameless to protect them) get into bath together (one has full kit on shorts, boots, jersey and other gets down to jocks) – didn’t u know soccer players bathe 2gther. Two others wait for their turn (I’m one). Next thing the Bill Murray – Chockito log floats to top (er gross). Clears the bath instantly – new water required.<br /><br /><strong>#2 – Big Dick</strong><br /><br />We had a big guy traveling with us (big Dick – not what u r thinking). Looked after the teams kit. In Manila (remember this is the 52nd US state) everything goes the “wrong” way for us Aussie blokes, they also have kerbs to deal with Monsoonal downpours (at least 18” high). Big dick looks wrong way and mis-judges kerb and crashes to ground in front of traffic (again not funny unless u were there) and promptly bounces up like the Shell Doll (u know the 1 with weights in the bottom which just keeps popping up). Notwithstanding his bungy jumping off kerbs (without a rope) big dick was a great hit with women (I couldn’t work it out but perhaps I was blind/stupid or both).<br /><br /><strong>#3 – Gosh Idiot</strong><br /><br />One of the “boys” on the tour got the “razor’ treatment on the last night in KL. All of the duty free that was left was on offer. Most pissed (there are some photos floating around to prove this somewhere). Boy gets held down and “shaved”. Disposable razor – with cover on was used – so not a hair was actually missing. On release “boy” jumps up (still pissed and now angry) and sweeps all grog off of desk. Ends up cutting hands. Proceeds to run down 3 floors in fire escape with hand on wall – easy to find (idiot). Brought back to room – non-drinking doctor sews the idiot up without anaesthetic (stewed anyways) and he goes to bed. Again funny if it wasn’t your pewbs or finger getting stitched.<br /><br /><strong>Another trip - Thailand – Coach get Jab 2 remember</strong><br /><br />On a different trip (Kings Cup) Aussie Boys and men including a coach visit the notorious Pat Pong (Girly Bar District) for some beers (yeh). <br /><br />Spent night as group in one bar and they ran a tab – big mistake. End of night there is dispute about the tab. Big tough Aussies walk out of bar en-masse after dropping what we thought (given most were pissed) a fair bar tab. <br /><br />Main street has military guard post on each end (bit like a mall). Little Thai bar manager runs up to post on the end we were heading to. Military looking dude does the Mel Brooks thing (horses in desert going through toll gates) and stops group. He is small and massively outnumbered (but obviously not deterred). Manager gets into debate with “military man” and ‘acts” the bombastic westerner. Crowd is growing. All of us are starting to stand back – these suckers are actually armed – and watch. <br /><br />Heavy artillery appear from crowd (some plain clothes dudes). Manager gives them the I’m right, your wrong treatment and the next thing he gets the electric cattle prod in the arse treatment (at least he did not get shot) and it basically froze him in place. <br /><br />Next scene is two other plain clothes dudes loading him into back of “police van”. Funny – yeh but only if it wasn’t your butt. Took 5 minutes and some more cash to make problem go away (besides we had game next day) but I was told it took longer for the pain in the butt to subside.aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141485505570530702006-03-04T23:03:00.000+08:002006-03-04T23:48:34.750+08:00Cars in your life – know your man/women through them<p>You know you can tell a lot about the guy/girl you are with by the transport they have:</p><p><strong>No car</strong> – can’t drive, poor, may be an alcoholic</p><p><strong>Small car</strong> – poor, maybe miser, short or driving someone else’s car</p><p><strong>Family car</strong> – already have a family (the child seat in back is usually a dead give away) or still living at home and borrowing</p><p><strong>Sports car</strong> – little willy, but compensating. Not sure if you r a girl</p><p><strong>Bus</strong> – see no car</p><p><strong>Truck</strong> – I don’t know</p><p><strong>Motor bike</strong> – watch out, your parents won’t like them. If it is a women possible a “bitch on a bike”</p><p><strong>Moped</strong> – how do I know you are gay or perhaps ethnic</p><p>One thing to watch out for though is a guy/girl in Company Car clothing (as they can be hiding their true personality - you may really be with a moped kind of person).</p><p>So here’s my list: </p><p><strong>Triumph Herald (small car)</strong> – this car was a classic. Had the old lift to the front kind of bonnet (most of you are too young to ever have seen one). Hand me down from mum/dad. Reliable little car but would have been classed as gay. Served me well for a number of years and was cleaned up (by the spewees) on more than one occasion. Don’t recall ever getting laid in it though so it clearly had no pulling power.</p><p><strong>Ford Cortina (4 Door)</strong> – saved my life. This car was actually 2 cars welded together by my dad (thank you). It was the car that left the road to become a plane/submarine. It is perhaps only because it was so strong in the mid section that I managed to walk away. Again this car had no pulling power as far as I can remember.</p><p><strong>Ford V8 Falcon (302)</strong> – now you say how can someone who crashes a slow car graduate to an even faster car. Not sure, but I needed to get laid. All – let me tell you it works. For some reason girls seem to like fast cars, plus there is more room to get your leg over or to go elsewhere (like down south). This car managed to get me laid on a first date and it took me to distant regions to get laid on a number of occasions. It had the misfortune of having a back wheel wind out of the transmission one day coming down high road and the car gently sitting on the road. Lucky part was the day before it had come home from the regions at over 100mph for most of the way. </p><p><strong>Toyota Corolla and then Toyota Corona</strong> – moving into family territory I think. Corolla was a good little car. Corona shit itself at 90k. Everything failed including the marriage. The Corolla had a story. We sold it to a car yard, but we had to take it home while they got our next car ready. I drive it down our street (past some kids at the top), park and open the door. Kid about 13 rides straight into it and bends door nearly in half. He is sitting on ground dazed and i am thinking OMG what do i do now i dont own this car (no thought for the little F... on the floor at least at the time). Ever since that day i always check for bikes and as a rider i am constantly looking out for the door. As it turns out he was ok, even if his bike was a little bent - serves him right i say for chasing parked cars.</p><p><strong>Nissan NXR</strong> (sports car - not sure if the little willy thing fits but only others can truly tell) – yes it was my “redundancy” gift to myself. Worked ok when there was just Ash and I but this is not a family car. So it had to go less than 12 months later when the family re-grew from 2-4 and sometimes 5 (when Paul came to visit). I am not sure if it had pulling power as I never tested it, but it is highly likely it did.</p><p><strong>Nissan Pulsar hatch</strong> – yep u guessed it family car – wouldn’t have pulled in a fit</p><p><strong>Nissan Pathfinder</strong> (company car) – fun while it lasted – might have pulled a country girl</p><p><strong>Mitsubishi Magna</strong> (company car) – I liked it. Seems I am well past pulling</p><p><strong>Holden Berlina</strong> (company car) – had a supercharger but it never got out of 3rd gear. Just made me feel better</p><p><strong>Holden SV6</strong> (current company car) – nice car</p><p><strong>Hyundai Getz (second car)</strong> – currently used by Paul (see no car and small car).</p><p>I currently getting around on a racingbike (which is worth more than my first 2 cars - together) so i am not sure what that says about me - but here's a stab. Fat guy (not really), Alcoholic (possibly but who isnt really), environmentalist (depends on the bike - not really in this case), poor (generally applies if a student)</p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141482848211698832006-03-04T22:33:00.000+08:002006-03-04T23:42:38.436+08:00Life of Jeff – Birthdays (no cause for celebration)Everyone has them right, most have them every year but there are some among us who only get one every four and some would claim to have had none worthy of note.<br /><br />Can you remember your birthdays? Generally I cant but a couple stick in my mind.<br /><br />Up to 21 is all a blur, but my 21st was memorable because of a couple of things. Firstly, remember I was playing soccer. Well in the year I was 21 (and after all the invites have been sent out) everyone finds out that the Goalkeeper has been having it off with the Centre Half’s wife. Split the party right down the middle. Seems the goalkeeper was actually good at catching after all.<br /><br />The other reason is family and family friends and reciprocal rights – you know the story. Your parents were invited to some distant (you never met the person) relative’s bar mitzvah or something to that effect and you have to reciprocate on your 21st (18th, wedding – more on this later - or whatever) by having them at “your” party.<br /><br />So why was my 21st memorable. Friends, Family, Strangers all at home getting pissed and eating your party pies. One family friend, not really a "stranger" decides it would be funny to get his penis and balls out. Yeh (not). This guy was a serial flasher - how do i know he did the same thing to an 80 year old granny at her birthday while dancing with her eew - a Melism. So kids if you don’t want me to do this at your 21st you better be good – I got friends in low places. Other reasons – we had a keg which was in the Laundry (Kegs seem to have gone out of fashion a bit like bell bottom and lace up - in the front jeans (what you mean u never seen them) and those shoes that made you 3” taller) and for some reason it got moved. Split the top hose and we lose half a keg all over the Laundry. Had every drunk in the neighborhood on the front garden for a month (kidding). But we did have to hose the damn place out to get the stuff of the ceiling and walls. Don’t remember getting laid so it probably didn’t happen.<br /><br />30 – don’t really remember<br /><br />40 – now that’s a different story. Small gathering down south (Dunsborough) at a house owned by some wonderful friends. We catered for it ourselves (dinner party style) and we had plenty to drink – too much some would say. A number of people were sick (always sign of a well catered for party I say). There was some dressing up and dressing down (another good sign) – I think there is even a picture of me somewhere in a bra with a rose in my mouth (cross dresser not) but there must have been a girl without a bra somewhere me thinks. Too drunk to get laid either that night or in the morning as i remember.<br /><br />Another things that were memorable about this party was the after party – u know the drive home bit. Get up earylish (before 9) and have a 3 ½ hour drive home. Help clean up and then leave. Get in the passenger seat and go back to sleep (still pissed). Get to Nan and Pops – one hour up road – get out of car go to toilet, spew, and lay down. Wake up an hour later, get in car and drive home. Get home, spew and go to bed. Must have had more to drink than I thought or the food was off.<br /><br />50 – not yet but if we make it we might come back and fill in the blanks.aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141318039175767352006-03-03T00:40:00.000+08:002006-03-03T00:47:19.186+08:00Adulthood – Rights of Passage – Relationships<p>Serial Monagamist (nearly) would be an apt description – but many would say a series (like stadium full) of missed opportunities. As someone who likes the physicality of sexual relationships (I personally would agree). You can just see the kids start to cringe now (again).<br /><br />How do I know I missed out – I can still remember/count all of my (non-self) sexual encounters. Fathom that. I can remember all of my encounters between 15 – 45 (now 47). How many of you can still remember every single sexual encounter you had with another person (in my case all women). <br /><br />Are there any surprises here – probably – either in the age difference, circumstance or nature of act itself (this is not going to be described).<br /><br />So here is the list (their approx age) and (my approx age):</p><ul><li>Alysson R (~17) at (17) – multiple (<10><li>Carmel C (~35) at (18-19) – two or three times</li><li>Anita ? (~19) at (18-19ish) – one night stand</li><li>Tammy (~24-25) at (19ish) – worked together - once/twice (got crabs – u know baygon works on these suckers but it is not recommended medically)</li><li>Girl from Alaska (on a sporting trip – met in Manila – 3 days basically in bed) – can’t remember</li><li>Kathy S (early 20s) at (early 20s) – but only for 5-6 months. Lived ~700km apart – love making rare event but “hot” (my view)</li><li>Karen (wife and mother of Ash) married at 25 but together before that</li><li>Sue (long term partner and mother of Georgia and Paul) – together at 34’ish and ever since.</li></ul><p>Have I lied/forgotten – not that I can remember? Did I ever “cheat”? Only once, but not in marriage/long-term relationship – only on transition from one partner to another. <br /><br />Is there a theme here – definitely – most met at work where it was possible to establish a relationship/friendship before a sexual relationship. Also, there is a theme of pursuit here (of me) – god only knows why. There is also possibly, from some perspectives, a theme of missed opportunities (sad but true).<br /><br />So each encounter/relationship has a beautiful story (and each could have been a sliding door). So here is a précis of each relationship:</p><ul><li>Alysson R – told before. First, beautiful, (scared), doomed to fail.</li><li>Carmel C – met at work, she was married with husband and kids, older/beautiful, thoughtful, poetic (still have book). While our sexual relationship was limited our friendship relationship was much longer. Most scared I have ever been in my life – bit like a car crash (awake but unsure – crossing the 10m from the lounge to the bed at 3.00am in morning almost the hardest act in my life). Boy meets woman. Hot/charged and oh too short, but every boys dreams. Am I proud – yes/no.<br /><br />Carmel was an interesting story for another reason – we worked together in an institution for the mentally disabled. I was a Clerk in the Mental Health Dept posted to this particular hostel to relieve someone (not initially Carmel I suspect) – she was working in the Hostel’s Admin Group. As an aside, the nurses in this place took great joy in ‘parking” one of the patients who was severely physically and mentally impaired but nonetheless in love with me (a naïve young boy) in front of my office every day for the whole time I was there.</li><li> Anita – met at night club. Sex in car. Everyone does it sooner or later – get over it – I did.</li><li>Tammy – met at work. Had a Mini Moke (and crabs). I threw up in her mother’s kitchen sink before sex one night after watching one of those wall calendar tea towels revolve around (soo bad). Really immemorable – hopefully for everyone concerned.</li><li>Girl from Alaska –very attractive (my eyes) as she was a Caucasian in a sea of Asian Girls. All of the other guys on this soccer tour (married or not) were playing around with Asian Girls but I couldn’t and still can’t see the attraction = personal preferences. I did multiple trips to Asia with sporting teams and closest I came to a physical relationship on any trip was falling asleep in a park in Bangkok (with a really very beautiful Thai girl – receptionist in the hotel) during a King’s Cup Tournament we played in (fatigued from games, ill and uninterested?). So, back to the Girl from Alaska – met in a hotel pool - spent 3 days together in a bedroom and did not eat much – at least food. Enough said. She was lovely (thank you)</li><li>Kathy S – work colleague and lovely. Lived in the bush. Pursued me. Much wiser than I, I think. Got off to inauspicious start. Parents lived in Perth – she was visiting. Picked her up (V8 Falcon – yes I know) and went to Perth for dinner. Had dinner – boy has no money as wallet is in car several kms away (idiot). Fortunately, Kathy has money and good sense of humour. Do girls make love/have sex on first date (Definitely). Remember one really hot night (in Bunbury of all places). Again a soccer trip – beach front and lambs wool covers involved.</li><li>Karen – work colleague. Relationship developed from working together. Beautiful (mother of Ashleigh). Lived together for number of years both unmarried/married. </li><li>Sue – work colleague. We had a friendship, but no we did not have relationship before separation. However, Sue pursued me though when the opportunity arose. We have been lovers ever since (kids are cringing again).</li></ul><p>Summary – generally had friendships with partners before sexual relationships and for those that really matter have managed to maintain these friendships.<br /><br />Missed Opportunities – Many – was actually really poor at getting into the pants of women (need counseling/advice). <br /><br />Regrets – Few, if any, except it would have been nice to have been "laid" more and perhaps to have had more variety. But, hey, who knows - there is no right number or type of experiences.<br /> </p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141308162012863702006-03-02T22:02:00.000+08:002006-03-02T23:30:59.536+08:00Adulthood start of the journey – not just about age (thus some never really make it)<p>Is there a definitive marker for adulthood? I don’t think so. Some people never really make it. Did I make it? Some might say I was hardly a child/youth, others may still say I haven’t become a real adult.<br /><br />My view is that I made it early and it had nothing to do with the car incident. I was always a responsible kid – perhaps too responsible (some gains and perhaps many losses) and I became an adult early. This is not a valuation really. More like a statement of do you transition from pupae to butterfly (or moth).<br /><br /><strong>What’s my justification?</strong><br /><br />I had a habit for collecting the waifs and strays through my youth because I was sober enough (in control enough) to see who needed help. Often these strays ended up in my parent’s room in middle of night (missed the turn) and many threw up either in my car or my room/house. I was often the counselor/mediator rather than the counseled or mediated.<br /><br />I still find I do this in a range of settings and “look after” those who might need help/support. I don’t ever remember being in a state in my whole life where I was not aware enough to be able to help myself (and others) in any situation (sad hey).<br /><br />Yeh I have been drunk (but never stoned/drugged) but I knew it and I put myself to bed sometimes after taking remedial action on the way. I even did this on the night I fell asleep standing up in the toilet and woke up hugging the bowl with a graze mark on my forehead from colliding with the wall on the way down – go on you can all laugh it was funny really.<br /><br />Have I always been a good adult – definitely not – but who is/needs to be?<br /><br />So what does this kid’s transition to adulthood look like? </p><ul><li>Move through successively more complex jobs – supporting self and others </li><li>Getting Master’s Degree and other post grad qualifications </li><li>Playing sport at reasonable (but perhaps not highest possible) level and becoming coach (but again with perhaps more to offer). </li><li>Moving from relationships to marriage to long-term defacto relationships </li><li>Having children and acquiring children </li><li>Building wealth </li><li>Getting fatter and having higher cholesterol and trying to manage this etc </li></ul><p>Was/is this a good transition or bad (or maybe just in between) – of course this depends on your view points.<br /><br />Some of these transitions will be dealt with in other later “chapters” in this story.</p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141306504914247092006-03-02T21:34:00.000+08:002006-03-02T21:35:04.923+08:00Youth to Adulthood – through the passenger window – New Year’s Morning 1977.Not everyone has life changing events occur to them (and lives to tell the story). Some just have death. This boy was very, very lucky many would say. Sliding Doors – nothing in this story after this date may have occurred had this event turned out differently.<br /><br />Picture this – car upside down in ditch at a place called Benger on South West Highway, next to rail line, ~10 metres short of large pond of water. Kid inside wakes up from unconsciousness (no idea how long – might have drowned perhaps). Laying on roof of the upside down car (seatbelt broke), hears running fuel in a hot car. Thinks this is a bad place to be and climbs, unaided, out through broken driver side window and up to road (about 3-4 metres above). Time is about sunrise (0600). Stands on side of road (wearing yellow tracksuit top – state team tracksuit) and looks around. Not much to see really. 10 minutes later dairy farmer picks this kid up, takes him home for shower and breakfast and then drives him to Bunbury Hospital for check up. Apparently the farmer was getting his cows ready for milking. Hears a noise, sees a cloud of dust but can’t see anything else but keeps looking occasionally. Can’t remember their names (poor form really) but their own son had been injured in a roll over accident – lost part of a hand.<br /><br />Now let’s backtrack. How did this kid end up in the ditch? Basically went like this - parents away on holiday in Busselton. Kid training for soccer ahead of night series. Game on afternoon of New Year’s Eve. Drinks in club after game, onto pub, out to night club. Stopped drinking about 9.00pm. At night club with one of the other players – leave about 3.00am. Friend was intending to come but when we get to his place he pikes out (good job as it turns out). Drop him, go home, grab some clothes and small change (yeh I also had no money in those days) and start to drive south. Drive is generally about 3 -4 hours depending on speed and traffic (none at this time of morning).<br /><br />Get tired – you know turn radio up, wind window down kind of stuff. Make it about 1 hour south of Kelmscott and pull over in a truck stop. Go to sleep (safe and sound). Wake up – no watch on therefore no idea how long I slept (could have been minutes for all I know). Start to head south again. One hour later – in ditch. It was pretty spectacular really. Anyone who has done the same and lived to tell the story might corroborate the general pattern of events.<br /><br />Sleep – different noise – car has left road and drifted onto gravel (left), stupid driver wakes up (doing about 70 mph) and is “confronted” by white road marker, swerves to right (big mistake), careers across road – towards a 20+m drop off of right side of road into paddocks, swerves hard back to left, now heading diagonally left again towards drainage channel next to rail line, manages to straighten car momentarily (say 20-30 metres) before front left wheel dives off side of ditch. Car nosedives into channel, flips end on end and then rolls several more times before coming to a halt facing forward. <br /><br />Elapsed distance from first impact (flipping onto roof) to final resting place for car only (thankfully) about 30-40 metres. Total distance from first contact with gravel to final resting place about 120-150 metres. How do we know this - back window in car popped out whole with rubbers and was found this far back from car.<br /><br />Car was totaled. Pulled from ditch with Tractor – sold to scrap yard for $150 (four good but deflated tires and a working radio). Every other panel damaged. Front of roof actually touching where bottom of screen would normally be.<br /><br />Driver injuries – small graze on top of head (contact with light fitting) resulting from failed seat belt. Small cut on hand (exiting car via window). Sore back.<br /><br />People reported car to police – driver ultimately charged with careless driving (you don’t say) and lost 4 demerits and got fined a couple of hundred dollars.<br /><br />Second life used up (first was near miss with girlfriend – another sliding door!!).aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1141058879228688362006-02-28T00:46:00.000+08:002006-03-02T20:50:12.683+08:00Growing Up (it wasn’t hard – well not all the time only most of it) - Updated (2/3/06)Growing Up (it wasn’t hard – well not all the time only most of it) – Updated (2/3/06)<br /><br />When you are a scrawny little person, growing is generally not that hard. The only way was up and out. For the other part, yes I was a boy who spent a lot of time with his hand on it. Show me one who doesn’t and I will show you an eunuch.<br /><br />As a boy/youth I spent my time around Kelmscott/Armadale/Roleystone. Life was simple. Went to primary school at Kelmscott Primary and then Highschool at Armadale – Kelmscott did not yet have a highschool.<br /><br />Learned to play soccer here (really). Met a coach called Colin Walsh he took me under his wing. Someone recognized some talent within this little kid and nutured it. He also acted as a bit of a mentor. Remember him as a tradesman who ended up running a fish and chip shop in Armadale. God knows what happened to him and his wife but I remember them and that means something – I am sure.<br /><br />Met some kids. Some of their names I remember (D Bell, Gary/Neil Baverstock, Paul Winchup, John Claffey, John Blakely, David Lague and some other Roleystone boys) but many I don’t. God knows what has happened to them.<br /><br />Met some girls growing up. Again some I remember, most I don’t because I pretty much went through youth with my eyes closed to girls. I was my own best friend.<br /><br />Remember having a couple of friendships in Primary School but nothing of a serious nature (Odette Hickson/Nixon – smart as). Another girl – can’t remember her name – lived not far from Odette, had horses which were to provide one of the memorable kid events. Horse riding – steep slope – river. Horse charges away down steep slope and hits brakes, boy – yes you guessed it - goes over the handle bars and ends up in river. Horse was memorable – just stood there and smiled (I’m sure) before walking back to his yard and digging into the feed trough. First, and only horse ride.<br /><br />Soccer provided me with perhaps my first opportunity to be successful. Although I was little I was fit, dogged and it seems I could play. I made some under age state teams – U14, U15 and U 16’s and got the opportunity to travel to Tasmania, South Australia and Tasmania respectively. Was never the “best” player in the team but was always one of the first picked (mr reliable and mr flexible – play anywhere kind of guy). As with all successful sporting kids you have to have patient, supportive parents. Soccer at that time was a winter sport and my parents (including my mum who never ever saw me play a game) spent endless hours driving me to training and games (thank you).<br /><br />At school I did enough (or not as the case maybe). I was smart but not studious. As it turns out I did not get enough marks in my leaving to get into the course I wanted to at Uni (Physical Education/Human Movement). As I recall it sport and finally girls got in the way. While I did not achieve great academic results I learnt a lot. I was a reader and this has stood me in good stead throughout my life. I later became known as “the professor” because of this kind of attribute.<br /><br />Last half of your leaving year is perhaps not the best time to recognise that boys actually should like girls (it’s only natural – well for most people anyway) provided they are not your sister.<br /><br />There were some girls I really ended up being truly fond of but never went all the way with. Two in particular stick in my mind. My first real love was a beautiful girl called Julie M – came from Mundijong. As is always the case beautiful girls in school typically have an ugly friend for protection (forgive me) but who knows that women may simply have been an ugly duckling (but I don’t think so).<br /><br />For a long time we were soul mates but I remember the night we decided that we were to remain friends and never to become lovers (idiot). It was at a party – the party was held by a girl named Carol J – and we sat in my car and talked for what seemed hours. It never happened – who knows what might have occurred if I had gone through that door. Julie ended up with a local drop kick (my opinion) and had multiple children from memory. I hope life has been good to her. From memory, I took home one of my pissed loser mates who threw up in the back of my car (idiot). Smelt terrible the next day when he had to clean it up.<br /><br />Another beautiful girl in my life at that time was called Christine M. She is the only girl I nearly ever fought over. Again this friendship came to nothing sexually (except frustration for me and maybe her). I also had a good relationship with her mother (Helen) and father (Eddy I think) who was an architect/designer. Christine got involved with a WAFL footballer from memory. Again I hope life has been good to her. PS – the guy that nearly got smashed was Jimmy C.<br /><br />I took Christine to the school ball, but I could only sit on the sidelines and watch – hurt my back playing school yard football. Now that is a story in itself. The deputy headmistress at the school was one big mama with a reputation to match. However, she drove a Datson sports car – you know the type where your bum drags on the ground. Truly, this woman needed a hoist to get in and out of it. On the day I hurt my back so did I as she took me to hospital in it. <br /><br />Finally, the girl who was my first lover (other than myself) and the reason I lost my focus on year 12 was another very attractive girl with a protective mother (and a missing, policeman father). Her name was Alysson R and we were both virgins. Our first experience was like that I suspect of many others – over too quick, unprotected and not the stuff dreams are made of. But I remember it – it was in the afternoon, at her house. Did I say it was unprotected (yes protection was not big then really – late 1970s) and was that going to turn out to be one big mistake (nearly). She was three weeks late with her period. That was the worst three weeks of my life. I can still remember standing on her front verge the day it finally came – boy was I relieved. The relationship petered out and she rebounded into another blokes arms (irony was he lived at the bottom of my street) and became another local baby making machine.<br /><br />While I was finishing school I graduated to senior level soccer – another reason for poor academic results. This time the catalyst was a wily Scotsman called Bobby McShane bless him. He encouraged me and one of my mates (John B) to try out at one of the State League team – East Fremantle Tricolore. We were both just 17 and we had to drive to Fremantle for training. <br /><br />My career was nearly over before it began. Rocked up to pre-season training. Some good players most of them older than us. In those days soccer had a summer night series. The coach at the time – Graham Oughton – was a past player. We both trained hard through the pre-season but getting near to the first game of the night series he comes up to me and gives me the old coach lecture. Went something like this – kid you have trained hard but you are never going to make it in this league. Obviously a good judge of character - not. To be fair to him he says you are welcome to go and try out somewhere else. My response – not unnatural in retrospect as one who generally has not ever shirked a challenge – was how about you let me stay and keep training. Turns out I made the night series team and I then never looked back. Many “better” players than me dropped by the wayside. Lesson in life – Italians/greeks generally have no bottle when the going gets tough they hide or bugger of.<br /><br />Over the period that all of the above occurred I also learnt to drive. Remember the friends of Dad and Mum (doesn’t it sound odd to say it this way) who met us in Fremantle? Well they had a farm. From when I was about 10-16 I often vacationed there and learnt to drive cars, motorbikes, trucks and tractors – all useful stuff for later life.<br /><br />Because I failed school I needed to work out a new direction. I took counsel from my parents – my mother in particular – and sat the Government Employment entrance exams. Passed and got a job (in hindsight this is one of my life regrets - i never really had a life without cares or traveled). In between times I worked as a courier for a printing company.<br /><br />For the record i did pretty much everything we tell you (kids) not to do:<br /><ul><li>pinched cigarettes (i only smoked about 1 pack in my whole life but i used to use them to curry favour with my "mates")</li><li>stole the loose change that was lying around</li><li>got caught with my hand on it</li></ul><p>Only thing i did not do and never have is take drugs (any sort except medicines).</p><p>Work was about to open up the next phase of my life.<br /> </p>aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22992064.post-1140884095140891942006-02-26T00:09:00.000+08:002006-02-26T00:16:51.713+08:00Trip to Australia - ten pound tourist10 pound tourists on a Greek Ship (Ellenis). Again don’t really remember much. Trip took about 3 weeks via Canary Islands, South Africa – Cape Town and then Fremantle, Australia. We arrived in late 1969 from memory.<br /><br />I remember the Canary Islands because it was warm and I remember high rise buildings being built with Bamboo Scaffolding – boy those guys were brave (and no one had heard of Worksafe).<br /><br />I remember Cape Town because of Table Top mountain and an old lady getting her bag ripped off in the main street and because we had to stay there for four days because 5 tugs could not pull the ship off the wharf due to strong southerly winds.<br /><br />I remember the trip to Fremantle because it was very rough, especially out of Cape Town, and we were not allowed to go up on deck. The only other thing that really sticks in my mind was a fancy dress party on the boat where mum dressed me up as an elf (national elf – the English equivalent of medicare). I hate fancy dress – I am not sure if this had anything to do with it. Mum and dad made friends with people on the boat and some of these remained friends for life in Australia.<br /><br />I remember arriving in Fremantle, at the Port, to be met by the parents of a man dad had worked with in the UK who owned a farm in a place called Cunderdin (about 200km from Perth) in the wheatbelt. Thinking about it now it was a major trip for them to come to meet us – they will certainly feature in later chapters of this story. I also remember dad’s brother, Ray, and wife, Pauline, meeting us. We all piled into a ute (light truck) and driving to Coogee (a place near Fremantle) to a caravan park.<br /><br />On our arrival in Australia we were housed in Graylands Hostel – I don’t remember this - but we left after 2-3 days and moved into a crappy weatherboard house in Rossmoyne – Central Ave. Again don’t remember much about this house, but do remember dad blowing himself across the laundry plugging in an old copper. Plug disintegrated and he flew (like I did in the bathroom) across the room and there was one hell of a bang. Only other memory of this time was burning feet crossing a road in middle of summer. Black tar was melting the ground was so hot.<br /><br />Mum and dad both got jobs and as soon as they could they moved to a new house in a new suburb which was being developed – Kelmscott. In early 1970s this was like moving to the edge of the earth. My early recollections of this place are driving into a town that had a train station, library – with a hairdresser next to it with the traditional hairdresser pole, a pub – all good towns had one, a service station and a foodland – small food shop. There probably was more there but I don’t really remember it. Essentially, the road went through it going to somewhere else. As it turns out it still does – in fact this place is now almost bypassed going to elsewhere.aquaris5http://www.blogger.com/profile/02599099067867380078noreply@blogger.com0