Where am I going now?

I think I’m having “abandonment issues”. Next week, my little sister is taking her family to Bali for her 40th birthday, Friday night G took off for Sydney, mi amica bella, leaves for Broome on Sunday for her 30th birthday and Crystal and Anne head off next week for Melbourne. And me? Where am I going? I don't know, but I’m wondering why there's a hand-basket in my driveway.

Time is precious.....

....if you don't believe me, next time you are on the front rank at the traffic lights during peak hour, sit back, put your hands on your head and count to 10

Here we go again.....

...with the ugliness
I am beginning (again) to question my involvement with soccer/football. Not because of the game itself, I get an honest pleasure from watching the game, but from the people it attracts. I know, I am aware of the incongruity in saying I'm attracted to the game and then in the next breath raisng concerns about the people it attracts, but I think that may be part of my concern. What if I am one of "them" or become one?
It all started Saturday, I took my boys to watch the local side play. It was a good game, a bit one-sided, but we wasted a number of opportunities. Then with 5 minutes to go, with the score at 1-0, the referee gave a bewildering free kick to the away side from which they levelled the score. Someone has then thrown a water bottle on to the pitch, not smart or acceptable behaviour. What I really found offensive about the incident though was the away sides assistant coach grappling with and shoving one of the club officials, whose job it is to keep the spectators from the ground. What was he thinking? Not exactly the type of behaviour likely to calm the situation. Thankfully calmer heads prevailed and the spectators settled to watch what was eventually a disappointing draw.

This however was only the prelude.

Sunday morning both boys played at the same ground, (the younger at 8:00 am , thank you very much!). It was the start of the season for the under 11's and resulted in a disappointing 2-1 loss, but we showed some promise for a side that hasn't played much football together. My older son's team was playing their 4th game, having drawn 1 (2-2) and lost 2 (3-4) and (4-5). I should point out that the coach's son plays for us (let's pretend he wears number 10), providing the perfect focus for the back-biters, whingers and belly-achers. With every loss the grumblings get louder, but as yet, no-one has spoken to the coach directly with their concerns, just to anybody within hearing that will listen. During the week we lost 2 of our back 4 to injury, making this week's clash with the top side just a bit more difficult. We started really well having all the possession and creating all the chances, but we failed to capitalise and against the run of play the opposition scored, 1-nil at half time. After the half-time break we faded badly and were soon 4-0 down. The coach was rotating the changes through the bench, and had called for a substitution when one of the mothers from our side (I really hate using the word "our" there, but "win as a team, lose as a team") screamed out


"Why don't you take number 10 off!!"

This sort of behaviour disgusts me, and disgust is not something I admit to often. The sheer cowardice of this semi-anonymous snipe (though no longer anonymous to the coach) fills me with contempt for people too weak to deal with their perceived problems directly. The most hurtful thing is that the boy's mother was sitting 2 rows in front of the offender. At least the back-biters and whisperers are nearly discreet enough that they don't cause pain to the coach's family.


This is junior sport, under 13's to be exact. If you are not happy, or more importantly, if your child is not happy, speak to your coach, face to face, like a grown up. If you can't do that, then just fuck off.

More Beth

....please

Go on, I asked nicely. I saw her Sunday night, and she was amazing. Right down to her pseudo-timidity when speaking to the audience, she was fabulous. As a fan of her lastest album, "Comfort of Strangers", my tastes were well and truly catered to, with just about every track getting an airing(I can't actually think of one she missed). Of course, this meant less time for her older stuff, with "This one's gonna bruise" and "It's not the spotlight" sadly missing. I loved it when it was just Beth and the guitar on stage, nothing to interfere with her voice. I could make believe it was just the two of us there. I was 4 rows back, dead centre, and it felt like she sang every song to me. Stand outs for me were "Heart of Soul", "A Place Aside", "Shadow of a doubt" and "Stars all seem to weep".

Interestingly, the 2 centre seats in the front row were empty. It made me wonder about the lyrics to "A Place Aside" and whether the seats were the place.

A Place Aside

I do still sometimes put my hand across
And I feel as yours gets placed on top
We drive along these empty streets
Same old ones they've always been

I can still hear your heartbeat in the dark
We're still setting up the same old sparks
Pull me close and we lay still
Wrap my toes around your heel

And we're talking as I write this song
Unfolding as we go along
And I suppose we really do
I suppose it must be true
There will always be a place aside
For you...

I do still sometimes stare into your gaze
The way we'd stay for days and days
‘skuze me but this seat is taken
They've been a while but I'm still waiting

And if I light these matches just to watch ‘em burn
And I forget to keep myself warm
And I forgot how to sing my song
Then I suppose I really do
I suppose it must be true
But there will always be a place aside
For you

On my way to work this morning

The Commodore slowed, as the line of cars concertinaed at the red light, tensing, ready to spring forward at the first hint of green. The passenger door opened and he alighted, picking his way through the waiting vehicles, across the road, eyes only for the footpath. She watched him from the driver’s seat, never taking her gaze from his back, waiting for the chance to wave a final farewell should he favour her with a backward glance, hoping for one more glimpse, a last chance to meet his eye.

Incongruous

My word of the week
Incongruity in my lifestyle is (I believe) the cause of all the stress in my life. Those of you that know me will be thinking "what stress?", but it's true. The key to happiness is the ability to be totally honest. Unfortunately, that's not always an option. People don't want to hear complete honesty, so we prevaricate. We twist what we feel and think, mould it into something not quite true, to something that we perceive others will find more palatable. Even when we know it harms us. Bizarre as it sounds, it's actually often springs from love, an effort not too offend or upset.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Beth Orton loves me...

I can hear it in her voice when she sings to me

Constants

I have a lot of trouble being consistent. Not so much in my behaviour (I am extremely predictable) but in my emotions. I have absolutely no problem switching sides mid-argument. What I believe and what I feel, I believe and feel 100% and I often let that drive me. That doesn't mean that I blurt out everything I am feeling or thinking, in fact just the opposite occurs. If I am in conflict about something, and by conflict I mean aware that my emotions are inappropriate or unsympathetic or possibly destructive, I am unable to fill the gap with incongruous small talk.

Blues and rooted

Wow.What a fantastic day. The West Coast blues and roots festival was this weekend, down on the Esplanade at Freo. While not many of the "headline" acts could be really labelled Blues and Roots, there was enough talent on show to forgive the organiser's for sneaking them in. I'll start at the start. We arrived at around 1:30 or so, hooked up with Shar-Lee, just missed Blue King Brown, but caught the end of Carus and the True Believers while organiseing beer tickets etc. Didn't really listen to them enough to do them justice, but I remember loving them from 2005. Jump back to the big top to listen to Josh Pyke and hook up with Damo, Lu and 'relle. I insisted that they all join me back at the Harbour Stage to see The Beautiful Girls (who incidentally are not girls, as Lu found out). They were fantastic and expanded their fan base by at least the five people I was with. Mia Dobson was next up in the Big Top. She has a voice I found similar to Melissa Etheridge, but not any where near as angry. Then came, for me, the surprise package of the day Jamie Cullum (and I don't just mean surprise as in he wasn't black or bald as I'd pictured him). He seriously rocked the crowd, just by playing good music and loving it. Even his version of Jeff Buckley's "Lover, you should have come over", which quite frankly appalled me when I first heard it, last year, struck a chord. Then he switched to playing a drum with a carnivale beat and the atmosphere just peaked. I didn't think he was ever going to leave the stage, or that the crowd would let him.

The weekend

Thank God it's Friday






I found the picture alongside this entry somewhere among my trawling of the web (no idea where) and it appealed to me. I thought "yeah, it's Friday, write an entry about the weekend". Then I looked at it again and realised it really didn't represent my current attitude to work at all. I am in the rare position of actually loving my job at the moment. My lovely bride is always having a go at me because when ever any body asks how my new job is (I've been here for about 6 weeks) my response is usually a non-committal sort or shrug accompanied by "Yeah, it's OK"
This is not through any lack of interest in my job ON MY PART, but a knowledge that the user (oops, Freudian slip),I mean, person asking the question, really doesn't want to hear anything about my job, but may be interested in my reaction to it. I work in engineering now, and do support work and development for computer software, so all the things that I find so endearing and interesting in my job would bore anyone else outside the game shipless. Rather than extend the conversation to a point where eyes begin to glaze over ("It's really cool, I was doing this thing this week with SQL that allows users to parameterise the other parameters in the report" See?) , I take the non-committal option and kill the conversation in it's tracks. It also gives the bride an opportunity to wrest the conversation back and do my boasting for me.
So, back to my original point, the weekend is no longer just a cessation of work for me, it is an opportunity to do fun things that are not work.

I think that's pretty cool.