Meanwhile on the sidelines

Michael is always terrific at soccer events. He mildly wishes Marcus well, and will sometimes politely ask the score, or “who won?”. While the game goes on, he finds things to do. Often this has involved mud, puddles, sticks, bits of scavenged metal and a lot of quiet muttering. I am sure some of the other parents think he's been raised by wolves.

Up in Devonport, he spent a lot of his time sitting on a soccer ball, drawing and calculating on a pad. He spent most of day 1 drawing an intricate map of a made-up continent. Judging by the arrows one country was invading another one. I used to do the very same thing - I have NOT taught him how to do this but he does read a lot of the same books I did as a kid - 1950s and 60s geography textbooks that my dad once taught from. They are full of pincer-movements on the Western Front and waves of Norsemen assailing the coasts of Britain, etc.

For day 2, he covered a few pages with numbers, attempting work out what a completely impossible fraction-of-a-fraction-of-a-fraction (that he made up) would equal as a decimal. This is NOT something I would have ever done as a kid, but he will regularly do this, while whistling, singing or just beatboxing. I think he enjoys the feeling of having his brain fully engaged in something. People going past admired and said "Wow, he's a bit of a genius isn't he?" One said "Goodness, is he .. doing homework???"

Leaving aside the fact that our other son, the strapping right-fullback, is also a mental wunderkind, the fact is Michael's numbers actually made no real sense, but he was as happy as a trout. For us the big thing is we can take him off to something like the soccer carnival, and he keeps himself occupied one way or another, despite his zero interest in soccer.

There has been a bit of a sportfest at home lately with footy and soccer on TV every other day. While Marcus and I are absorbed in that stuff, Michael is on the floor between us and the TV, with anything from 3 to 10 books open all over the place. Library books and my books, his books, old books that i can't remember where they come from. And he takes a bit from here and a bit from there and makes something new. These below all come from a 4-5 day period, except the map of France at the end. That was a sustained effort over about 4 days, drawn on an x-ray envelope.

Soccer names

I passed a lazy half hour this morning (a public holiday) slurping tea and looking over the program for the weekend's soccer carnival, primarily at the kids' names. I am of course not wanting to make fun of names which are part of other cultures. Just names from the stranger aspects of my own culture.

I see these names as a desperate stab at creativity by some parent or parents who possibly have very limited outlets for their poetic hearts. I imagine these are people who put a high premium on things that are NEW and DIFFERENT and UNIQUE. How about naming your daughter Angel? Wait. POWER MOVE. How about going one better and naming her Aingel? Really get the Ain in there so people don't think of Angle.

One girls team has a very tempestuous backline Imagine the drama and recriminations when Storm is picking the ball out of the net and pointing the finger at Skye and Angel (without an i).

One team has two Zoes and a Zara. Zzzzzzzzz!! One team has two Raphaelas and a Gabriella but they are all beyond reproach judging by the surnames. There are Pipers and Ethans absolutely everywhere. It's times like this that I appreciate my ignorance of the old testament - it must be quite unsettling to have grandchildren named Noah and Caleb and Aaron and Zachariah when those names create vivid images in your mind of first-borns being slain and calves being fatted etc.

Did Brumby Smalley and Luke Klug's parents ever say those names out loud? I'm sure they are great kids by the way and I wish all of them, the Chloes and Zoes and Kades and Jades and my favourite - plain old Erin Fudge - all the best with their soccer careers.

Central Region win on the road again

We just spent the weekend with Marcus up north for the Devonport Soccer Carnival. His team Central Region (representing the main metro area of Hobart) won their four games and took out the tournament again. Last year they won Devonport and Launceston and lost at home in Hobart (to Northern Tasmania). Again this year they have lost in Hobart (to Northern Tasmania) and won in Devonport - we travel to Launceston in about 5 weeks. We have just heard there is going to be a fourth tournament, in Burnie in September.

The first game on Saturday against Eastern (representing the eastern shore of Hobart) was a tight tussle. Central were 3-0 up early in the 2nd half when they started to get complacent. Some snoozy defending let Eastern in for an excellent goal, and then it looked like a matter of time before they scored again as panic set in.Central's travelling supporters started praying for the whistle and the ref obliged, final score 3-1.

In the afternoon was the game we all were hanging on, against the main threat, Northern Tasmania (who represent the whole North and North East but are generally just called "Launceston"). They were very unlucky to have a probable goal ignored by the ref, who thought it didn't cross the line. Our keeper Ethan scooped it out, and play continued. It was extremely tense for the whole first half, which finished 0-0. After the break Central scored from a goalmouth scramble. Again there was debate whether it had gone over the line but the referee was very decisive and firm in all four games. I was still worrying that we had been very lucky to be 1-0 when a 2nd went in. The Launceston boys dropped their heads then and it became a rout, finishing 5-0. Our boys were terrific in their behaviour - no over-the-top goal celebrations. Although they knew they had made a huge step towards winning the comp, they were respectful of their opponents and didn't go crazy at the end.

The next morning we played one of the traditionally weaker teams, WSSA based in Burnie. They gave us a very tough match - WSSA scored after only a minute. Again there was some dozy boys in the backline, WSSA won a corner which popped out to one of their midfielders who crashed it in just under the crossbar. Within 3 minutes Central equalised then added another. WSSA were moving the ball around really nicely while Central were rushing everything, but it was still 2-1 at half time. Central settled in the 2nd half and got out to a comfortable 4-1 lead. WSSA pulled a well-deserved goal back before the end. Coach Atef addressed the boys at the end, (in gentle-chiding mode rather than hairdryer mode) and said that apart from Marcus who was man-of-the-match, everyone else forgot to do the jobs assigned to them.

Our last game was against the hosts, Devonport. The word was out that our boys needed only to draw to take first place, but Devonport had also looked like an improved team. They took it right up to Central, and had us under a lot of pressure at times. Our defence in this match was a lot better, and our forwards made the most of their chances. Central won 5-1 although on the balance of play the teams seemed much closer.

The team has changed a bit from last year. Sam, Antonio and Gus have left either for AFL or to play exclusively for Ken Morton's soccer school. Sam was our best defender but I think Marcus has taken that mantle now. He always gives 100% and I get the impression the coaches really trust him. He is happy playing at right fullback where his primary job is marking. But he plays more like a centre-back, and I think with his height there is a good chance he'll be given that responsibility sooner or later.

New website n stuff

I have got my own domain name now, www.reesdesign.com.au. This is part of a major push to garner more work, since my only dependable cash-cow client has just cut me back to irregular projects rather than a weekly day in the studio.

There is a just a place holder on the site for now but coming soon will be this;

Of course if you have any work in the field of graphic design, interactive design (Flash etc), animation, illustration, typography and the like - please get in touch! 

Ketchup

Its time for a big state-of-the-nation catchup blog I think. For one reason or another I have been captured by the dubious charms of Facebook in recent months. I could rave on about how busy I have been yadda yadda but in fact I have no excuses. FB does have the very enjoyable aspect of instant feedback, and an audience for your writing which is narrower but a lot less mysterious.

However now I am addressing myself to you guys, in Saskatchewan, Springvale, Switzerland and South Sudan. How are you all going?

It’s nearly winter here now. I have a photo taken on February 28, 2002, showing the poplars turning yellow. (I know the date because it was the day Marcus was born). This photo has led me to thinking that is when the colours will change every year, but I realise now that must have been an early autumn.

Marcus will be at high school next year, which freaks me out considerably. Last week he and Elf and I were escorted on a tour of his prospective high school by a couple of very nice and well-adjusted Grade 8 kids. I don’t know when this species evolved, it wasn’t abroad on the earth when I was at high school.

The school was well-scrubbed and a lot of it seems very new. Like most schools in the country they got a bunch of funding under the Building The Education Revolution program. Now all the headlines about rorts and delays have faded away, we are left with what seems to be some very good education infrastructure.

Co-incidentally, the very same day we toured Taroona High, we were invited to a ceremony at New Town High, (the alternative high school option). Michael did very well in his NAPLAN tests last year (as did Marcus) and he was given a certificate, along with about 100 other kids from the south of Tasmania who either topped the school, came in the top 1%, or did both.

The government claim that NAPLAN is not about league tables of school v school, and they may really believe that. However when you have to sit through a very long presentation in a large hall, your mind does turn to the schools whose top performer is outside the top 1% and think - hmmm. If I was principal of such a school, especially if it was a medium-to-large one, I would feel this was exposing me to criticism.

Minister for Education Nick McKim congratulates future archaeologist/slapstick comedian Michael Rees.

We have been lucky to have a lot of family around lately. My sister Jacki visited Hobart for a week from NSW, and stayed with Mum and Dad over the river. She had a great time with them, and managed to get around to a lot of the best things to see. We had several dinners and get-togethers, and managed to get a sibling photo with Sally - these summit meetings only happen about every 3-5 years.

Jacki, me and Sally.

For comparison,  here we are in about 1980 (with our carroty cousins).

Jacki and Dad and I also went to the footy up in Launceston a few Sundays back. It was a gorgeous day (we are having a lot of that at the moment), and although I don't have a great interest in either Hawthorn or GWS Giants, it was a pretty good game. Just nice to spend time together too. Jacki lives at Smiths Lake on the mid-north coast of NSW, and its a major operation getting to or from there to Tasmania.

Moments after Jacki went home, Fred arrived from Canberra to spend a week with us, to celebrate his birthday. Again it was all dinners and outings for a while. The boys and their cousins were hanging off him most of the time.

We are only very occasional Skype-rs, and fired up the camera on the Smart TV to call Chonk and Irma in Switzerland while we had Fred with us. It's fantastic to have a full family-on-family gathering at such a distance. They have now replaced their laptop-based skype setup with a camera on top of the big TV like we have, and it s a different experience altogether.

We all had a big day out at Richmond on Sunday - lunch at the pub, getting lost in the big maze, and then a few hours at Zoodoo. I have just found an excellent setting on the camera that enables me to fill the card with bad photos in mere seconds. This lion was standing up staring mystically into the distance, well, towards Launceston actually.

In other miscellaneous news, Marcus's school soccer team just had their first win of the year, which will hopefully be the first of many. I coached his team last year, but this year I found someone else to take training, so I am only responsible on game day. A few of last year's players were ratbags who took up a lot of my time at the expense of the rest of the kids, and they have moved on or dropped out this year, so it's a good deal more rewarding.

Marcus is still playing for the Hobart Central Region representative team - the next tournament is in a bit over a week up in Devonport, They had a friendly game on Sunday morning against a Northern Suburbs rep team. It was pretty even for the first ten minutes, then Marcus (who plays in defence) scored the first goal, after coming up for a corner kick. After that everyone lost count - it was something like 12-0 in the end I think.

50th birthday preview

This is what my 50th birthday is going to be like. Everyone better start practising now -you have less than 5 years to get loose and funky.

Fraught scenes at Table 1

I am at a school chess tournament. Marcus has been very excited about it, as last year’s top players were all Grade Sixers, and they have moved into the senior category, leaving him as (he hopes) top dog. Unfortunately he has already lost one of his 4 games, and there were a few tears. He is a lot more resilient than he once was, but he still expects a lot of himself. The team started well but have drifted to equal 4th, hopefully a good final round might get us into the medals.

--------- oOo ---------

Well, that was exciting. We were pretty much out of it with one round to go, but managed to sneak in for 3rd place! Most of the team picked up bronze medals - the top 4 scorers get them, and if a few are equal 4th they all get them.

Marcus came equal 2nd overall. His last game was on the top table against the eventual winner. It finished in a controversial draw when she walked out, and said she couldn't play as there were too many people crowding around the table. This crowding always happens with long games on the top tables - players who have finished their games congregate and watch, not always quietly. I'm disappointed the organisers didn't look after the situation a bit better - last game on table 1 should always have a referee/arbiter keeping an eye on it.

Marcus was furious because he had just taken a big advantage in the game when his opponent took a stress break. I can't testify to what happened, as I always stay away from his games, but no-one has said that he did anything wrong. But when the other player came back in, the tournament organiser had a little conference, asked Marcus to apologise to her, and declared it a draw.

Of course its not easy running these things, and I am happy to accept the umpire's decision (although its not the decision I would have made.) In the moment I was determined not to be Ugly Chess Dad, so I just went along with things. But now I wish I had just asked "What exactly is he apologising for?"

Hobart Cup 2013

I half-heard some after-school news from Elf while I was sitting here with the sandwich-sized laptop. Someone had said something about the venue for soccer on Saturday. I googled it to verify - hmmm, rosters are not online yet. "Marcus has the roster in his schoolbag!" Which is downstairs. Hmm, maybe if I google again? Nup - still not online. Sigh.

School went back today after 2 weeks of holidays. I enjoyed a break from being soccer coach and school chess guy, both of which will now resume.

The last 2 days we supported Marcus and Central Region's U/11s at the Hobart Cup soccer tournament. They had a few close games, won 3 out of 4 but lost the one that counted against Launceston, who took the Cup home (in their hearts - the Cup has no actual cup). Elf and I are like chalk and cheese at a soccer match - she doesn't really like to watch and never says anything. I am glued to the action throughout and yell my head off. Our team manager was summoned for a dressing down yesterday morning because he and some of our parents were a bit vocal during the Launceston game, and the young ref was quite upset by the end. I feel pretty bad about it, as I hate to be seen to be just whingeing when we are losing. He didn't do a great job though, and the organisers gave him even younger ref's assistants so he didn't have a lot of help.

Marcus copped a ball in the face a number of times, close range goalkicks to the torso, a kick in the back when he was on the ground, had a clash of heads ... that's the way he plays. The manager loves him as he always bounces to his feet and gets back into it. I love it too but Elf ... I think she'd be happier if he was playing tennis.

Towel news

It’s taken 45 years, but I have achieved this: I own two bathrooms, and they are adorned with matching hand towels. I consider this a base camp from which I may ascend to even greater heights of manchester co-ordination.

Beating the system

I am a fond wearer of shorts. There are people (whose opinion I usually respect) who would feel this puts me in the category of Schlub. They are welcome to their opinons. All I can say is I have big legs that do not ever feel all that comfortable in jeans, and I am just not ready to adopt voluminous harem pants. Yet.

My shorts always wear out in the same spot - where the creases form across the top of the thigh. I should say that these are always "cargo" style shorts. I am just comfortable in that length of short - the over-pockettage I just ignore.

Due to my complete lack of hips I need my shorts to have a drawstring. And it's been getting harder and harder to find them. They are all elastic-waist or have belt loops - as if I am going to wear a belt with shorts. What do they think I am - an axe murderer?

So I have been wearing my old scraggy torn-through-the-creases shorts while walking the streets of this town (which is actually oversupplied with pants shops) searching for a new pair. Is there anything sadder than a scraggy-shorts-wearing middle-aged man, on a Tuesday morning, wandering through Glasser and Parker running his hand around the waistline of pair after pair after pair of shorts? No.

So I gave in, and bought a pair with an elasticise... no I can't even type it. And for the last month I have hitched them up every 25 minutes - that’s about 1700 times.

Last night I finally beat the system. I took the drawstring out of an old pair (I keep the torn ones for 6 - 8 years as you do) and surgically inserted it into the waist of the new ones. And I do not say "surgically" without cause. I started the night before at about 10.30pm - tired, poor light, cranky. I had a paperclip and a scalpel blade, one of those curved ones - to use as a quik-unpik and to slice through obstructing layers of short. I was holding it in my hand because my scalpel was .. uh .. so tired. You know?

I could have used better tools if I had been bothered to go find them, but I wasn’t. This session ended with the paperclip hopelessly lost in Quadrant 5 of the waistband, and blood on the floor. And on the shorts. The new shorts.

Last night I decided to return to the fray. I had Michael’s head-torch, a proper craft knife, pliers to get the paperclip into an efficient shape, and steely determination. It took a little while but it was SO much easier and I didn’t even once consider calling an ambulance.

I am now proudly wearing my improved shorts, and I will be able to get out of the car without hitching up my pants like a Maurie Fields.

Boast

Why not funnel your spare cash in my direction??

I have been throwing everything into the t-shirt designs of late. Proper work has been thin on the ground, and  I have found over time that the best way to keep myself up and switched on is to make up a work project.

So far I have three themes (that might be familiar to you from the blog) - footy, imaginary cars and popes. I have been a bit ambitious - I decided to draw the 23 popes named John. Then this new bloke Francis popped up so I had to draw him too. For the footy shirts I am drawing one player each from the golden era of the 12-team VFL - and I'm about halfway through.

I ordered one myself so I could be reassured about the quality - it arrived yesterday and it looks fantastic!

These guys took me a while but I'm pretty happy with how they came out.

I must apologise for turning the blog into a long-running ad for my shirts. But having sunk a lot of effort in the designing, I now need to Move Units. It's a little like joining Amway - I am starting to see all my friends and family and blog-readers as Potential Customers.

Rest assured I still love you all, even if you don't buy any of my beautiful shirts,cards, posters etc.

And now I will blog about something else for a change.

Correct Heading, No link Provided

Correct Heading, No link Provided

Bones revisited

I have gone literally gone back to the drawing board. What thinkest? If you like it, go to my little t-shirt sales site and comment, make it a favourite, buy a card or postcard, of it or even a shirt.

Ribbons aplenty

Yesterday was the school athletics carnival - the biggest day in any house captain's year. Marcus got off to a great start with the pre-carnival events, that they run around the school during the week prior. He won both the Grade 6 1500m and 800m. 

Michael has carved out a niche as the novelty event specialist. people still talk with awe of his win in the Grade 2 Monkey Race. Yesterday he cleaned up the Grade 4 Sack Race and looked a certainty for the Egg & Spoon before mislaying the ovum in the last 5 metres.

Marcus made a clean sweep of the 100m, 200m and 400m, all pretty comfortably. I was there for his 200m and he ran like he was going for a record, (even though they don't bother timing anything). He was perhaps 40m ahead of the next finisher, and giving it everything plus the kitchen sink. It was great to watch him captaining. The kids seem to respect him and he stays fairly calm and get done what he needs to get done. 

I said to him yesterday how pleased I was that he had stood for the house captaincy. If he hadn't tried for it, and then had come out and won every race, he would look a little like he had dodged it. I am terribly proud of him and of Michael too, for throwing himself into the carnival even though its not quite his thing.

Elevenses

The birthday season wears me out so much that I can sometimes be premature in celebrating its end. I was ahead of the game this year, forgetting that my first-born child would have his birthday on the last day of February.

And so it came to pass. He's eleven! He had a quite mature party, with just two guests and the three of us, upstairs at the a local cafe. This place is the home of the monster fluffy pancake served with ice cream and a large bowl of berry sauce - effectively runny jam. To see four of those being wolfed down is a bit unsettling. They just disappeared.

We bought Marcus a Nintendo 3DS. He had an second-hand one a few years ago and lost it - actually dropped it in a swamp on Bruny Island. He was very remorseful and has never asked for a new one, even though we know he missed the old one very much.

Now we are back to the once-familiar sight of Marcus walking around glued to this tiny thing, talking to it (some of the games are sound-sensitive) and hearing it boink, bong and bark like a dog in response.

Bones on the phone

This starts with a great Aussie photographer, Rennie Ellis. I have seen his books before, full of observational street photography documenting Australia in the 70s and 80s. I became aware of an online gallery of his work last year, and saw this image of a Richmond cult hero, Robbie "Bones" McGhie. This is Grand Final Day 1974, I assume before the match. Bones calms the nerves with a quick durrie.  There is a corresponding post-match pic of Bones downing a can of Vic Bitter. He was quite the lad. I remember his footy card very well as being one of only maybe 2 or 3 that showed tattoos. Kevin Murray is the other one who leaps to mind.

So I thought  - what a great image, maybe it would make a good t-shirt?

Before I did anything with it I want to get approval from the photographer's estate and the subject. I am still waiting to hear from Rennie's people (he died in his sixties in 2003). I found an email for Bones, and sent the design to him for comment yesterday.

He rang me this morning! He's 61 now, still smoking. In fact he started a business manufacturing and distributing those waist-high ashtray bollards. He was affable, said he thought the design was OK and to do whatever I liked. I was a bit blown away, and said I thought it was a great photo. He said yes, he thought so too. And I imagined he was busy with his bollards and his sports-strapping-tape business so I let him go.

But - I have to call him back. He's a dual premiership Tiger! I've got to pester him with some questions about the big games he played in, and being coached by Tom Hafey (one of my all-round heroes in life). Leyton Hewitt's dad once played for Richmond and allegedly left after an altercation with Bones in the carpark. True?

Anyway, I now have BONES McGHIE in my mobile address book. Do you think he would mind if I started texting him during Richmond games like I do every other Tiger supporter I know?

Captains courageous

On Friday Marcus came home from school and announced that he was standing for house captain. He's in grade 6 this year, top of the school, and these kind of things will come up through the year. His good buddies Xavier and Ned were also standing. Ned got into minor strife for handing out lollies to the little kids.

We helped Marcus write a speech for today. Our neighbour Adrian is in Grade 6 at another school, and he was elected house captain last week. He had a cracking speech written down, which he gave us for inspiration. As Marcus's opponents were his good friends we suggested he say something like "All of these guys would make great house captains but I hope you'll vote for me".

The staff thought his speech was great - I think the magnanimosity went down very well. The students must have thought so too - he was elected! Lana from next door (the other side) was elected as Marcus's co-captain, so we have three captains in a row here. That is a lot of leadership crammed into one paddling pool.

Lana may regret some of her campaign promises. She undertook to pick up anyone who is struggling in the cross country run on her magic carpet.

Lincoln - some errors

I mentioned Lincoln the other day and got one big thing wrong. Tommy Lee Jones plays Thaddeus Stevens, not Steven A. Douglas. Please, calm your seething - it could have happened to anybody who has an inflated idea of their command of American history, as I do.

However - something serious that the filmmakers got wrong is that they show Connecticut voting against the Emancipation Proclamation. Connecticut have apparently demanded this be fixed before the DVD is released.

I think it would be nice if this could be done by having famous Connecticutian and rapper, 50 Cent, do a pimp roll onto the set in a really poor attempt at 1850s costume. When the speaker says "Connecticut?" 50 Cent says "You know it, Wiggy".

Symphony under the stars and a few gatecrashing planets

Most people know that some of the brightest stars are, in fact, planets. This is something I am always forgetting. About a week ago I was marvelling at a bright star that was snuggled right up to the dark side of the moon. I later found out that was Jupiter.

Last night we took the boys to Symphony Under the Stars, and again, as the first "stars" came out I was completely oblivious that they were Venus, Mars and the Big J. It was at lovely Tolosa Park where we have been to various daytime events. People bring picnics and rugs etc. Many bought folding chairs, but unless you are early enough to score a patch on the terraces, I don't think they work that well on a steep slope. We went for simple couch cushions.

The Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra were in good form on some popular chunes. They played Jupiter from Holst's Planets, which was followed by some discussion of the planets visible, the chief of which was in fact the Jupester.

We haven't been to this gig before so I don't know if there is always a featured vocalist, but we thought the music was most enjoyable when she was out the back changing her frock. The boys were mugging about with cushions over their ears when she sang, and there was certainly a touch of the Madame Castafiore* about her. You could imagine glasses exploding.
*Tintin reference.

One of the less-immediately-lovable bloke-in-a-suit characters is RACT Cube Man. He came out to wave a bit. Christopher Lawrence who was MC-ing asked Cube Man a few questions but he is a very private cube and not much was forthcoming.

We enjoyed it despite the chanteuse, and our distance from the action. Next year get there early, and take the binoculars and the star map.

Break point, out by the biohazard bins

Cam and I had a game of tennis yesterday morning - my first in a few years. We went down to the uni where we last played, but they are only admitting members on the courts now. Pretty crummy. Even if you are prepared to buy a membership you have to do a 20 minute orientation tour, and then still pay by the hour for the court.

We left in a huff, and tried our luck at the old court behind St Johns Hospital in South Hobart. I've seen people playing there - I've always assumed they must be staff. But we went in to reception and asked.Well, actually the ladies were too busy to ask, so we just stood there in our sports gear with our racquets and assumed they would twig what we were after. When the phone stopped ringing for a few seconds someone found us a key - and asked for $3! Surely it costs the hospital more than that just to have their reception staff interrupted.

With a bit of exaggeration I can see a comedy bit in this. Pompous over-serious tennis player jogging on the spot while he waits for someone to notice him, stretching and then eventually opening a can and practising his ball-toss. Meanwhile medical emergencies of ever-increasing seriousness play out behind him.

The hospital is pretty old, and it has grown in fits and starts, so it's a rabbit warren. It was founded as a homeopathic hospital in 1899. Out the back behind the coach-house (which now contains specialists rooms) are some sheds, the biohazard bins, piles of rusting rubbish and a neglected tennis court.We enquired in one of the worksheds and borrowed a spade and broom, and dealt with the tufts of grass growing down the tramlines.

Eventually we were up and running. Cam is a much better player than I - I hardly made a first serve all day. Yet he made more errors than me and ended up losing his usual steely focus. I won the first set and was up 3-1 in the second when we abandoned the match. It was just too hot and we had to play indoor soccer later in the day so we were saving our legs. (We lost soccer 5-4 so we should have quit tennis sooner).

Qwerty!

Again, I am writing merely to announce that I have a new laptop. How thrilling, I hear you exclaim.In fact, it is (again) a borrowed laptop with a teeny tiny keyboard. And its not a Mac. So, expect quite a few blog posts with a vaguely peeved undertone.

Ha ha.only kidding.Although my mouse button seems to have two distinct personalities and that will take a little bit of getting used to.

AFL 2103 - scrying the entrails

Premiers: West Coast
Runners Up: Collingwood
Rest of the top 8: Sydney, Adelaide, Hawthorn, Geelong, Fremantle, Richmond
Wooden Spoon: Melbourne
Brownlow Medal: Scott Pendlebury, Collingwood
Coleman Medal: Jack Darling, West Coast (67)
Richmond Outlook: In the mix with Freo, Essendon, North and Carlton for unwinnable 7th and 8th spots. To just see them in a final would be amazing for Marcus who was born after their great finals run of 2001.

Reality-challenged hatters

Well - what’s the euphemism for mad nowadays? Socially-excluded troubled-behaviours hatters?

It matters not. We had a theme, we had some kids, we had some parents, we had a lot of food (including 3 or 4 pints of not-quite right icing) and we partied-down. To celebrate Michael's 9th birthday of some 3 weeks ago. 

Elf organised everything and made the sensational cake. Sally made a rainbow cake for Arthur a few months back, and I connected the dots thinking Elf copied that. In fact she didn’t even see that cake, this was simply great cake minds thinking alike. 

The shindig went well! Thanks to Imp for the lend of the chocolate fountain and to the weather for being stonking. Childers repaired to the pool to shout and douse each other, adults hung around the shady deck and stretched the party into a practically all-day event, and in so doing mopped up the excess food. 

We are tired but happy, as another year’s party season honks to a close.

Thinning on top

Got my standard haircut today - Nº2 back and sides, Nº3 across the scone. After that, the hairdresser asked, in all seriousness, “Do want me to thin it out on top?”

I did 2 or 3 doubletakes, and ended up saying “Er, if you think it needs it?” She did.

Hands up how many people;

1. remember Gerald Ford as US President and
2. have the hairdresser thinning them out on top?

Anyone? No. Just me. So thanks to my dad's side of the family for the tenacious hair genes. Good one, Reeses and Stubbingses!

Dogs and cats agree

Everyone loves the little blue pool.

Zero Dark Thirty

Tuesday was the first day of the school year, and also my dear wife returned to work. So, as a person who works from home, you would imagine I just revelled in the peace and quiet and/or called a No Pants Day. In fact I decided that I, - free of the need to include, involve, listen to or supervise others - would walk to North Hobart, see a very long movie, then walk home again. And that would be my day.

So, I had a very nice walk. I get anxious about being late for things, and that has spoiled my enjoyment of many a walk - the thought that if I don’t speed up I’m going to miss something. I walked to school with Elf and the kids thinking after that I would walk home, and then at some stage head off to the cinema for the 10.45 showing. At some point I abandoned that plan, and after seeing the kids to their new classrooms, I just kept on walking, and gave myself a very, very leisurely stroll.

Now to the movie. I had seen that it had very positive reviews, and the chap in the local paper said that it dealt with the very violent real events (torture, terrorist attacks and the raid to kill Osama Bin Laden) in a restrained way - which convinced me to see it, as I am not interested in gore & splatter.

The first two minutes are sound only - over a black screen you hear very affecting audio from September 11. At the start of the film we meet Maya, the young, slim, redhead CIA officer who becomes obsessed with finding Bin Laden. This is all supposedly based on the facts, but I don’t know if this is a montage of more than one person or a completely invented character.

She is newly arrived in-country at one of the CIA’s secret bases. I forget if this was in Pakistan or Afghanistan. Her new boss Dan is waterboarding a prisoner, and we get to see plenty of that. It’s monstrous. Some such as Waleed Aly have called this a pro-torture film. Maya goes from being very uncomfortable witnessing waterboardings, to ordering them to be carried out. As she is the “hero” of the film and is ultimately successful in getting intelligence that leads them to OBL, it leaves itself open to this accusation.

But I disagree. The film does not show any prisoner giving up intelligence while being waterboarded or immediately after. Maya’s stroke of genius was  POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT  to convince a disoriented and sleep-deprived man that he had already told them what they wanted to know. From there, he let his guard down. Yes - waterboarding, 24-hour death metal music and other abuses of human rights got him to that point.

I am an Amnesty member and anti-torture. The reality is that there is a wide grey area between what is illegal and what I am comfortable with. Do I have the right to urge the banning of things that are a) effective and b) not illegal? 

One of the planks of Amnesty’s anti-torture platform is actually expressed by a sceptical character in the film, and it’s not about human rights at all. It is that “intelligence gained through torture is low quality intelligence - in these circumstances people just say anything”. This is an amoral argument against torture, but a good one, which is why Amnesty uses it.

I think what the film does show is that the treatment the US defines as being short of torture is (as depicted) torture. The US military says that waterboarding is OK as it is not “specifically intended to inflict severe physical or mental pain or suffering.” Dan says repeatedly to the prisoner - “You lie to me, I hurt you” and then does. Whether it’s severe - well, Maya didn’t want to watch when she was first confronted with it.

I got caught up in the spy thriller aspect, but a bit confused by some of the helicopters-over-Abbotabad stuff.  PSA  One chopper is damaged on landing and can’t take off. Some of the SEALs on the ground blow it up, as it is a top-secret weapon, but we see that from within the other chopper that has taken off. So guys were left behind? No - it looks like everyone makes it back OK. Odd.

It was a very good film, but one that filled me with dread and paranoia. If I was backpacking near the Pakistan border now (rather than 15 years ago) this is NOT a film I would like see. It is not going to win any friends in the Pakistan Tourism Board, that’s for sure. 

Washday

Sure, I made them co-operate. But still - they’re cooperating.

A study in tong size polarisation

I need some MEDIUM tongs. MEDIUM!!! STAT!!!

Lincoln

I am very keen to see the new Abe Lincoln film. I just went to my first movie on my own for about 20 years (Zero Dark Thirty - review to follow), and the trailer for Lincoln was pretty compelling. I love the idea of Tommy Lee Jones as Steven A. Douglas.

Anyway. I was just trawling through some Lincoln stuff and I came across this quote from a letter to a newspaper editor. During the civil war Lincoln was under tremendous pressure to do this, that or the other for the slaves. He had very strong personal view that the slavery should end, but as he explains, his personal view came second to his official duty.

My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and is not either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone I would also do that. What I do about slavery, and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union; and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would help to save the Union ...  I have here stated my purpose according to my view of official duty; and I intend no modification of my oft-expressed personal wish that all men everywhere could be free.

It's striking how clear to Lincoln was the distinction between his personal view and his duty as President. Although we in Australia wish our politicians now had more deep convictions and would act on them more often*, Abraham Lincoln’s statesmanship here rests on putting his aside. Interesting.

*This is written in the early stage of a 7-month election campaign where the Labor government has pinched most of its policies from the previous Liberal government, and the Liberal opposition's policies are merely bumper sticker slogans, most beginning with the words No or Stop.

Footscray via 52 Suburbs

52 Suburbs has made its way to Melbourne, and this week

visited Footscray. Delightful photography.

Cadet herald

This is Michael’s most recent coat of arms. I am hoping we can get him a cadetship at the Royal College of Arms as some sort of Heraldic Intern.

Today we went to Richmond, the well-known colonial village and Devonshire Tea Hub. There are antique shops, and kind-of-antique shops that mostly stock those huge flat clockfaces printed with an olde world graphic, and cushions with PARIS on them. Wrought iron. Lifesize brass dogs. Lots of stuff with crowns, fleurs-de-lis and rampant lions.

One of the wall hangings had what I recognised as something like the royal arms of the UK, with swirling behind it the flags of St George and St Andrew.

“What’s that coat of arms Michael?”
“Erm, that’s the Stuart royal arms from between 1604 and 1689 - then William married Mary and put his, erm, thing on it and it changed.”

He knows his stuff.

Lord Headley and I

The parallels between the late Lord Headley and I are uncanny. Much like he, I too was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, and entered Middle Temple, before commencing studies at King’s College London, subsequently becoming a civil engineer, a builder of roads in India, and an authority on the protection of intertidal zones. I too am an enthusiastic practitioner of boxing as well as other arts of self defence and am a widely traveled man. Like Headley I also inherited my peerage from my cousin, married an Australian author, and then became bankrupt. In a spooky case of history repeating, I too was offered the throne of Albania but refused it.

The main difference between us is that he converted to Islam and founded the British Muslim Society, whereas I, inspired by my deep interest in loosely-woven cotton fabrics, founded the British Muslin Society.

Truth* sometimes really is stranger than fiction**.

*Which this isn’t.
**Which this is.