Fathers and Sons

Among the regretfully growing circle of my old friends who have hit the long trail home is Mark Hartman, a fellow I met for the first time in my freshman high school geography class. I was instantly attracted to the fellow, whose worldliness and braggadocio were justified by the fact that he was a year older than me…..and most impressive of all, he had been to California. Mark was one of those types of people you meet that you know is full of beans, but you make allowance for it because of their talent in delivering their tall tales. In any event, Mark and I became good friends, and ended up taking drama classes together as we progressed through high school. It was through Mark that I met my close friend Fred Pascoe, who I never would have chummed around with because he sang in the choir while Mark and I were “actors.”

I had a lot of firsts with Mark. I rented my first house with him, took my first road trip with him, and took my first classes in college with him. When I married Jayne, Mark and Fred were at the wedding, and I still have numerous pictures of the event that show Mark making his way back to the keg of beer we had in the back yard. I ended up living in Flagstaff after that, and I saw very little of Mark until we had moved back to Tucson and were living in the desert on the city’s far east side. There, one evening, Mark brought over an Australian girl he had met, Jannene, and announced he was going to marry her and move to Oz. He did both.

We saw Mark intermittently over the next decade or so. He tried moving back to Tucson once with his growing family and we visited with them at Fort Lowell Park. His boys were very little then, and I hardly remember them. After that, I believe I saw Mark one more time, when he was living alone at his father’s property off of east Speedway, and afterwards he returned to Australia to be with his family. There is where he died at age 47.

Flash forward to 2011, and our final days here in Sydney before we must return to Bozeman. I contacted Jannene through email and asked if it would be convenient to see her, but her work would not allow it and she forwarded our contact information to Wyatt and Luke, Mark’s sons now age 31 and 27 respectively. Yesterday we took the bus to Chatswood and met them at a tavern near the train station. What a wonderful evening! We were joined later by Wyatt's girlfriend, Shelly, a charming woman who works as an animator for Australian television, and one of Wyatt's mates, Lance, who is a musician. It was a real pleasure to see what fine young men Mark managed to leave the planet, and we tried to talk about just about everything other than indulging in my own memories of their father. I didn’t need to talk about Mark, for he was very much there sitting right with me in the form of these fellows. We had seen Wyatt before during our 2008 trip to Australia, but I had never met Luke, who works as a security officer on the Sydney trains. The guy is solid muscle, and he had made a special effort to meet us after working some pretty tough shifts. I was touched that he did so.

I suppose that is what life is all about. We are born, we live, and we pass from the scene, generally unnoticed and unlamented save only by a few close friends and family members. But sometimes we do leave something behind for the planet; a good deed, a work of art, a building, or if we are very lucky, our children. In that sense, Mark was a very lucky man. He did leave the world a better place with his contribution of Wyatt and Luke.

Police Rugby and Twenty Questions

Yesterday saw our involvement with two Australian customs that I wish we could see imported into the United States, and perhaps on a limited scale they already have been. After running a few errands and enjoying a delicious home cooked lunch together, Jayne and I separated for further adventures. I took the bus south to the Brookvale Oval where an amateur rugby game was to be played by two New South Wales police teams. I don’t know how many officers were left in the Manly area to patrol the streets after the purple and white players took to the field because it sure seemed like a substantial number. The opposing team was comprised of police officers from the western suburbs and they wore the colors of West’s Tigers, black and orange. The spectators were few, and almost all of them seemed to be relatives of the bold lads from Manly down on the field, so there was almost an intimate family feel to the entire event. The Manly team dominated from the first “try” (read “touchdown” my American friends) and managed to get possession of the ball during several heartbreaking turnovers for the Western cops. At one point in the second half a rather violent fight broke out when one burly Manly player attempted to slap the ball from the hands of a Westy, and both teams rushed forward to form a rather compact scrum of pushing and punching. The officials broke it up quickly, ejected the Manly player, and the game went on. I lost count of the scoring runs and had to ask one of the officials after the game for the final score: Manly 40, West 8. It was a really fun game to watch, and the shaded grandstands were quite comfortable. I understood the game was held in honor of two police comrades who had died of cancer, and I was glad to contribute some gold coins to the charity bucket as it was passed around.

After the game, I set out on a rather lengthy hike down along Pittwater Street to the Manly Fishos club. It was a pleasant afternoon, and although walking along side heavy traffic is never much fun the cars let up periodically and allowed me the leisure to enjoy the greenery. I estimate I walked about two miles to reach my objective, and was glad enough to put up my feet once I arrived at the club. Before too long, Jayne and Ronald joined me and we joined with several of Ron’s diving mates to form a team for Trivia Night. I suggested we name our team the “Earp Brothers” and got no argument, so the game was on with several difficult questions and some goofy bar games thrown in every once in a while. At one of these games, called “Heads or Tails,” Jayne managed to be the last person standing and won the prize for extra points and drink vouchers for our team. She even drew one of the prized green poker chips from a cloth bag that got us a bonus, much to the surprise of the game master. Our luck ended there, unfortunately, and I regret to report that the Earp Brothers came in second at the end of the night. We came in first for having a good time, though, and it was a great end to a great day.

A Brush With Royalty

Imagine, if you will, a ship as big as a Las Vegas hotel. Now imagine two ships that big. Now imagine a harbour large enough to accommodate both of these behemoths as they manoeuvre for docking at two adjacent landings. This was the situation at Sydney Harbour yesterday as the Queen Mary 2 and the Queen Elizabeth, two gigantic cruise ships of the Cunard line, rendezvoused in the waters of Port Jackson and pulled up to landings at Circular Quay and Garden Island (the latter in the front “yard” of Russell Crowe’s house). Jayne and I decided against joining the special escort cruise of a Sydney Ferry that welcomed the ships as they entered during the early morning hours, and opted instead for a city bound expedition in the afternoon. We took the Manly Ferry at about 2:00 pm and were amazed as the vessel pulled around the opera house to dock. There at the overseas terminal sat a ship that was longer than the Sydney Harbour bridge, and definitely too tall to pass underneath it! I had heard the Queen Elizabeth, the smaller of the two ships, is larger than the Titanic, and I can certainly believe it after walking around the thing and snapping numerous pictures.





We decided to take a look at the Queen Mary 2, so we left the Circular Quay area and walked across the Botanical Gardens to do so. That walk was extremely pleasant, except for the few yards that had to be covered near the Palm Grove centre where the “flying fox” bats roost. Hundreds of these creepy creatures hang upside down from the branches of trees that canopy the walkway, and ample evidence of their ability to defecate while so posed could be observed on the pavement. As a result, we did not linger there as much as the rest of our stroll towards the streets. We arrived at the second landing and were again amazed at the size of the ship. So large is the Queen Mary 2 that one of the large Captain Cook Cruise ships that was docked alongside it looked no larger than a rowboat. Apparently the ship was using the Captain Cook vessel to ferry their passengers to Circular Quay and back again, and they were entering and exiting the shuttle by a gangway that opened up from far down the hull of the ship. It was truly impressive.






Our trip back was uneventful because we made every connection with perfect timing, arriving back at our apartment about six pm. What marred an otherwise perfect day was the continuing coverage of the earthquake in New Zealand, and its obvious impact on our Aussie neighbours. Obviously the two nations are very close culturally and, in an exaggerated way, geographically. Television coverage of the rescue effort was displayed on the ferry and the news talked about little else when we turned on the television in the apartment. What is obvious to me through this entire terrible tragedy is that an economically advanced country like New Zealand is going to be able to handle this devastation with much greater efficiency than those poor folks in Haiti. All the same, it’s quite a shock to everyone around us.

Culture Club

Like the urbane, big-city sophisticates we have become, Jayne and I sought out appropriate cultural amenities on Monday. In Jayne’s case it was an appointment, made for her by Jane as a treat, to get a facial in a beauty spa in nearby Mona Vale. We set out for the place about two hours early by walking down to the local Indian takeaway and getting on a bus that declared its destination to be Mona Vale. The bus sign was not misleading, but the route taken was a bewildering set of twists and turns into neighbourhoods we had never seen before. Many of the houses were quite nice, and at one section we even saw large tracts of over several acres where the owners had horses. That may not seem like such an unusual sight to you, dear reader, unless you have actually seen these Northern Beaches towns. They are densely populated, with many multiple storey apartment and condominium buildings. The single family residences often seem to have yards that rival our own back in Bozeman in puniness, so to see some with yards large enough to accommodate livestock is a rarity.

In spite of the meandering route, we arrived at the shopping mall where Jayne’s appointment was to take place and had enough time to wander a bit before the hour arrived. We investigated the local “hotel” (which simply means an elaborate bar) and the public library where we read the newspapers for a bit in air conditioned comfort. I left Jayne at that point to catch another bus by myself for my own cultural rendezvous.

At the Mosman Library, where Jane works, it was an “author evening” with a presentation by Thomas Keneally, the author of Schindler’s List and many other fiction and non-fiction titles. The chance to hear such a famous writer talking about his latest book was too good to pass up, so I rode a bus down from Mona Vale to Mosman (one that travelled directly to the target this time) and found the public library in no time. Jane was busy helping prepare for the event and I was early, so again I sought out a hotel to pass the time. At 7:00 pm Keneally arrived and began to speak about his latest work, a historical comparison narrative of the Irish Potato famine of the 1840s, the Bengali famine of the 1940s, and the Ethiopian famine of the 1980s. He was a pretty good speaker, with just the right touch of self-deprecating humour and not a trace of professorial posturing that sometimes taints such a talk. I enjoyed it very much. Afterwards the library served sandwiches and wine, which Jane had to supervise both distribution and clean-up. She then drove me home where Jayne awaited me with her new face (that looked a lot like her old one: just as beautiful, but perhaps more relaxed). It was a great day of cultural exploration.

Rescue Heroes!

We took a long bike ride yesterday to find a hidden geocache, but after taking a leisurely pedal around the Narrabeen Lake we found the cache site too crowded with swimmers to safely access. We decided to take a break in the shade of a palm tree that bordered the local RV park (known as “Caravan Parks” in this part of the world) and sat looking at a little restaurant across the road. A small brown dog came around the corner, looked in at the door of the café, and then began sniffing at the gates across the driveways of two adjacent residences. I remarked to Jayne that I was sure the pooch was going to get into trouble, and sure enough, he tried to cross the busy street after failing to get inside the gated driveways. Several cars had to break for the confused little fellow, and when he got to our side of the street he eagerly sniffed at a pedestrian on the sidewalk as if looking for a friend. We had seen enough. Jayne called the dog over and when we had our hands on him we examined his collar. It turned out “he” was a “she” by the name of Laura, and her owner’s phone number was engraved on the identification disk. Fortunately we had our cell phone and were able to call Laura’s owner, who came down to the restaurant straightaway to take her wayward baby home. It was a very satisfying episode, but it made me a little lonesome for Willie, our Westy terrier back in Bozeman.

Reduced Expectations

It was always our intention to take a lengthy train journey across Australia, from Sydney to Perth, and then fly back to our home base in Narrabeen. However, events have conspired against us, not the least of which is the Australian dollar rising in value to equal the American dollar. Since everything is twice as expensive down under, we are necessarily adjusting our travel expectations to correspond with our dwindling resources. This trip to Katoomba is an example of those reduced expectations, but today exceeded those notions quite dramatically.


We got up and had an excellent breakfast at our hotel, and then made our way to the bus stop where we bought day passes on the local trolley line. We then took that conveyance to Echo Point, a lovely spot overlooking the Jamison valley and the impressive sandstone cliffs of this giant escarpment on which the town of Katoomba is situated. It was a beautiful cool morning, with the clouds covering the valley below and moving in misty vapors up the rocky faces of the mountains beyond. Anything I could write here would not do the breathtaking beauty of the scene justice, so if you are reading an early version of this posting I suggest that you tune in as soon as we are able to upload a few photographs.

We looked out at the rock formation called the Three Sisters, somewhat of an iconic vista for this part of Australia, and saw the clouds swirling above the jungle below. Inspired by our hearty breakfast, as well as my enthusiastic reaction to the strange forest noises I could hear coming from the mist below, we decided to descend the Giant Stairway, a series of stone and steel steps cut into the rock face below the Three Sisters and leading to the valley floor below, a vertical distance of about a thousand feet, I would guess. Jayne was game to give it a try, especially when we realized that once we reached the valley below all we would have to do is hike over to the terminus of the various “Scenic World” attractions to hitch a ride back up.

The walk down the stairs was never really frightening, but it was grueling after a time since the pleasant breezes that greeted our first arrival at the top of the ridge were non-existent the moment we plunged into the clouded valley. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs I was sweating so heavily that I believe my clothes were totally drenched. Jayne, of course, looked fresh as a daisy, so after pausing to rest a bit we proceeded along the valley’s edge towards the Katoomba Falls. The forest was absolutely gorgeous, with so many strange plants dripping in the humidity. We saw no wildlife (we were warned to watch for snakes) but some of the most impressive trees and plants whose roots seemed to drill directly into solid rock. After a march of about two miles, we came to the Katoomba Falls and creek bed, and it was quite a site. Not really impressive in the volume of water, but the heights from which it fell were spectacular. About three hundred yards further along the trail past the falls we came to the terminus of the vertical railroad, a tourist ride that was made by adapting an old coal chute. It bills itself as the steepest railway in the word, and I can believe it, for once it started uphill Jayne and I both thought that we would pitch forward into the seats in front of us. It only lasted a minute or so, but we found ourselves back at the top of the ridge without having to ascend the equivalent of the stairs we so laboriously took down into the valley when we started.

The trolley came by after we escaped from the tourist shop with nothing more than two stickers and a package of Ned Kelly mints, and we rode to the Leura shopping center where we had lunch. By then we were feeling our aching leg muscles and decided to catch the next trolley to the motel. I now sit outside in a lovely secluded spot typing these lines while Jayne tries to take a nap. This was quite an adventure, not on a scale that we had originally intended, but definitely as interesting as our expedition to Royal National Park in 2008. Sometimes when you reduce your expectations, you get pleasantly surprised. That certainly happened today for us.

Into the Mountains

NOTE: This entry was actually written on the 15th of February.

For today’s adventure we took three different forms of transport; bus, ferry, and train. The reason for this multiple conveyance odyssey is our stay in the Blue Mountains resort town of Katoomba. Sitting by the beach is all well and good for a few weeks, but after a time one feels the need to branch out a bit, and the low, lush mountains beyond Sydney were just the ticket. It has been overcast and cool the last few days, which has made the beach less than attractive anyway, and up here one can see the clouds drifting along the hilltops like fog. The terrain reminds us both of the Ozark Mountains, heavily timbered and crisscrossed with multiple gulleys and creek beds. It took two hours for the train to get here from the central railway station, so I imagine driving the distance would have taken at least double that time.

Katoomba is a pretty funky place, with lots more old buildings than just about anywhere in Sydney outside of the Rocks district. The main street downtown is lined with antique stores, restaurants, and at least three bookstores (which I was surprised to see). We went to lunch at the Hotel Carrington, a very nice luxury hotel built in 1885. It was quiet inside, with very lush furnishings and grand old paintings. Although we took numerous photographs, we forgot the connection cord that allows us to upload photographs into this computer and we will have to wait until we return to the beach to publish them.

Right now I am typing in the nook outside the motel restaurant, and letting Jayne continue with a nap. We will stay here for two nights, and tomorrow we are going to buy tickets on a special trolley that skirts the edge of the cliffs that allow such dramatic vistas here. There are waterfalls and rock formations to see, and some pretty nice bush walking trails that allow for a more intimate environmental experience. I certainly hope the sun comes out. Right now yet another light rainstorm is moving over the area, and I suspect the evening is going to be chilly. Pretty much a luxury in the middle of summer!

Valentine Cheapskate

Yesterday we took a trip into town with Ronald and Jane to visit Paddy’s Market and the Sydney Fish market. The first destination is a large warehouse filled with all kinds of cheap goods, mostly of Chinese manufacture, that masquerade as Australian souvenirs. That is probably not a very fair description, since there are some legitimate Australian vendors in attendance, one of which was selling Akubra hats. These hats are the equivalent of the Stetson brand in the United States, and of course I was drawn to their stall. Fortunately for me, Jayne was captivated by the offerings of some eastern style cotton dresses in a stall just a few removed, and we encouraged one another to make a purchase. To make a long story short, Jayne ended up with a purple cotton tunic-pants-dress sort of combination, and I got a “Pastoralist” style brown felt hat. I do not believe either one of us has experienced any buyer’s remorse to date. After leaving Paddy’s, we went to the Fish Market where we battled a huge crowd to order some fish and chips. Afterwards, we went to a fish counter and purchased two salmon steaks, which we had for dinner tonight. Excellent stuff.


Today we rode the ferry into the city to see the Anne Liebowitz exhibit at the museum of contemporary art, but since they wanted fifteen buck each to see it, we decided to just tour the museum’s other exhibits once we got there. They were incredible, including a three screen DVD animation presentation that was absolutely beautiful. We then went to the Rocks, Sydney’s oldest neighborhood, where we patronized a pub for lunch, saw one of the oldest standing buildings of Sydney, and toured another museum dedicated to the area’s history. Since it was Valentine’s Day, I was somewhat in doubt as to what I could do to observe the holiday’s meaning with Jayne. Not to worry. While walking in one section of stores we saw a large candy piece fall spontaneously from a confectioner’s shelf. I heard the proprietor behind the counter groan that he would have to sally forth to pick it up, so I quickly scooped down, picket it up, and restored it to its proper place on the shelf for h8im. He was so pleased he i8nveted me to pick out a lolly from his stock, which I quickly did; a heart shaped lolly with “I Love you” printed on it in frosting. This was, of course, promptly presented to Jayne. Then, in a continuation of our good fortune, we crossed George Street on the way back to the ferry and found lying on the ground a perfectly good white rose, still wrapped in florist’s paper. This had to be the cheapest Valentine’s Day ever!

Indian Takeaway

I decided to quit resisting this morning and made my way down to the Spice Bazaar, the little Indian takeaway on the main street of our town. They are open on Saturdays and Sundays for “breakfast,” but if that conjures up images of bacon and eggs to you then you are mistaken. The fare is samosas and various chutneys, and when I entered the place the only other customers were a table full of Indians who were chattering away and eating in the traditional style (with their fingers.) No knowledge of the food on my part did not prove a hindrance in this case as the proprietor was delighted to make a suggestion for my breakfast take away. Samosa Masala, with a coconut curry chutney was soon packaged in a bag for me to peddle back to the apartment. I think Jayne was pleased with the choice.

Last night we had dinner with Ronald and Jane at a Chinese restaurant overlooking the first beach we ever visited in Australia back in 2008. It was almost more food than we could handle, and it was a cool overcast evening to aid the digestion. After dinner we all came back to the apartment where a huge party was in progress next door. A great deal of shouting accompanied a thumping bass beat that made the walls vibrate, but when time came for going to bed we were able to escape the worst of the noise by retreating to the back bedroom. Tonight we are headed for a house party hosted by Cindy’s friend Barbara, and the other guests will all be South Africans. It should be interesting.

Jayne Arrives!

Now the real joy of this trip can begin. Yesterday morning Ronald and I made the long drive to the Sydney Airport and picked up Jayne, who looked none the worse for wear after her 14 hour ordeal on the flight across the Pacific. It was great to see her again, and hopefully she can put some of the pain and sorrow of the last month on the back burner for a few weeks while we are here. The city traffic was horrible, of course, but Ronald managed to get us back to the apartment intact after navigating various hazards and hassles as skillfully as a Middle Eastern taxi driver. Since she had to adjust to a six hour time difference it was necessary to keep Jayne up until sundown, which was no small feat considering how tired she was. I walked her down to the commercial center of Narrabeen and showed her all the stores that I have patronized the twelve days I have been here alone, and we even managed a walk on the beach. It was lovely, with temperatures only in the low eighties with bright sunshine. Our first photograph shows the beach as it can been seen out of our kitchen window, and the second image shows Jayne’s first dinner in the apartment with the living room view beyond. (Addendum: After two attempts to post these pictures I finally got it to work!)


Today we had a repetition of yesterday, with a leisurely stroll and more shopping at the local “Vinnies” second hand store. Jayne simply could not stay awake and took a brief nap, during which I mounted our trusty bicycle again for a run down to the wine shop. Tonight Ronald and Jane want to take us to a Chinese restaurant, and we will put our determination to try Indian takeout on a brief hold. There are three Indian restaurants in this area and I feel the siren call of vindaloo almost unbearable.

Research Ramble

Since I had nothing to do today other than to wait for the weather gods to allow Jayne to fly to Australia, I decided to take a research trip into the city. The State Library of New South Wales is just a few blocks from Circular Quay, and it was easy enough to remind myself of the route after my brisk ferry ride across the harbor. I did not enjoy the scenery too much on this harbor crossing and it is all Jane’s fault for loaning me a copy of A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry. I took it along to read and had a lot of trouble putting it down for any length of time. An excellent Indian novel, this story is taking a delightful amount of time examining the background of each character, and I am thoroughly enjoying it.

I write these lines from the bowels of the Mitchell Library where they allow free internet access (and free air conditioning…..I wonder what this place was like last Saturday…..) I am rather pleased with myself, having uncovered the identity of the principal character I needed to document on this trip. I have even established a speculative link between this chap and one of the founding board of trustee members of Royal National Park, so this was a fruitful expedition indeed. I will probably linger here in the city until late afternoon, when I will return to the Manly Fishos club to play trivia with Ron’s mates.

Jayne should be here tomorrow. I sure hope so.

Stupor Bowl Party

Everybody says they enjoy the commercials during the Super Bowl, and some people admit that the expensive ads are one of the main reasons they watch the show. I guess you could count me in that latter group, so you can imagine my boredom with the game yesterday when every commercial break took me back to the same Australian ads I have been seeing for days. No talking babies, no chimps in funny clothes, just Aussies hawking Hungry Jack hamburgers and Holden pickups. The game itself was not much of a surprise for me; having two colleagues from Wisconsin I not only knew the team to root for, but also the team that would win.

There was little to do around the apartment after the game, although I did manage to get outside in the lovely cool weather to take a stroll down to the shops. In addition to a “Vinnies,” (St. Vincent de Paul thrift store) there is a fine used book store with volumes stacked to the ceiling. I had yet to finish A Tale of Two Cities, the book I brought along with me from the states, and I knew that Jane had another to loan me later that day, so I did not purchase any of the tomes that beckoned from the dusty shelves. However, I will be back. I cannot resist the siren call of a used book store.

Last night at Ronald’s we had Thai curry, which was delicious. I foolishly added too many of the peppers that stood as a condiment for the feast, so I had to get a second helping of rice to deal with the heat. Fortunately the heat was entirely on the palate since the weather continued cool and breezy until the time for my return to the apartment. I got one last call in to Jayne before going to bed to wish her a pleasant journey, and now I count the hours until her arrival here. Its been quite lonesome.

Cool enough for Spicy

What a change twenty four hours can make. Yesterday morning it was still hot enough to stagger down to the beach in search of relief. Ron, Jane, Cindy and Barbara all came over to the apartment and we went down to the safety flags to challenge the surf. This time I left my keys wrapped in my shirt and stuffed into my hat, both of were guarded by Ron who scorned the flag zone. The water felt pretty darn good, and one giant wave tossed me to the bottom where a vigorous meeting with the sand helped remove any excess skin I may have been carrying around.

By the afternoon, however, the sky began to darken and the wind blew with considerable force from the southwest. Light rain began to fall, and the force of the wind howling through the apartment made the fans superfluous. Before too many more minutes, it was actually COOL, and I found the wearing of long pants not to be intolerable. The change in the apartment comfort level spurred me into action, and I cooked two pans of home made enchiladas without breaking a sweat. By the time Ron, Jane, and Cindy arrived at 6:00 pm, only the aroma of Mexican spices greeted them at the door rather than the blast furnace of yesterday. I believe the cooking was to their liking, and I know it was to mine. Now I face leftovers for breakfast and it is not an unpleasant prospect.

Today is the Super Bowl in America, an occasion also usually marked by the consumption of spicy food. I think it ought to be on some Australian station, and if so I will give it a glance today while I enjoy the continuation of this cool weather.

Out of the frying pan

Even the most dedicated snow bird will eventually meet their match, and mine arrived yesterday afternoon with an intolerable, humidity laden afternoon that made this apartment an oven. It was too hot to even think, so I did not for several hours. Towards evening Ronald and Jane, along with their friend Barbara, picked me up for dinner at a restaurant down the street. It was really no relief, since it, too, is an open air dining area facing out to the ocean. The food and company were excellent, however. After driving me home, the group wanted to see the apartment and were met at the front door with conditions rivaling a blast furnace from Hell itself. They stayed out on the porch, hoping to catch a breeze, and at least were rewarded with a nice view of the Southern Cross above the soutwest horizon. However, after they left, I had a very uncomfortable night with every fan in the house blowing full tilt.

Idiot of the Day

So Saturday has finally come round again and the bold lads of the Narrabeen Life Saving Club have set up the safety flags at the middle beach location, just about one hundred yards from my apartment. What a convenience! After taking another long bike ride this morning and working up a pretty good sweat, I donned swim trunks and towel for my first true dip in the Pacific. The sand was really hot on my feet as I got to the safety area between the flags on the beach, so I quickly threw down my towel and hat in order to charge into the surf. It felt glorious, with big breaking waves knocking me around as I worked my way out about thirty yards where others were bobbing about in the water. What a refreshing feeling! What a beautiful sunny day! What total horror when I realized that my apartment keys were no longer in my pocket.

Having sacrificed my only apartment access to King Neptune, there was nothing I could do other than trudge warily back to the apartment building and survey my options. I had no cell phone, no wallet, no way to call the landlord and I knew I had to rely on my own cunning to get back in. Although my porch is on the third floor, it is separated from the apartment next door by a wall that does not extend very far past the balustrade. I went upstairs, knocked on my neighbors door, and sheepishly explained to the fellow I had obviously just disturbed from a deep sleep that I needed to perform a dangerous stunt from his porch. The guy was game if I was, and I stepped out to his porch to execute the ticklish maneuver. I tried not to look down as I stepped gingerly over the railing, passed beyond the separating wall, and vaulted over the railing of my own porch. Luckily I had not locked the porch door and I was safely inside in less time that it takes to type this line.

I had to call my long suffering landlord to get replacement keys and he graciously performed the task within the hour. Now I sit here shaking my head and thinking how ironic my fears are. Always a bit squeamish about getting in the ocean, my biggest danger of the morning was actually a peril on dry land, three stories above a soft lawn of Bermuda grass!

The News from Lake Woebegone

Today’s title comes from an interesting criticism that came to light after my talk. Jane told me that after I left, the next speaker took the podium with her slide and powerpoint presentation and started off with the comment, “Well, no one told me I was going to have to follow Garrison Keillor!” I suppose it was intended as a dismissive insult, but I have taken it to be the highest compliment. (Although if she meant I LOOK like Garrison, I am severely offended!)

Today is the first day that I don’t really have anything to do. My groceries are adequate, I have plenty of laundry, dishwasher and other soaps, and I have explored the bus route south enough for a while. My “dongle” for internet access is now working, and although it took me several hours to figure out how to activate it, at least I don’t even need to leave the kitchen to post messages on the blog. All I really need now is Jayne to make this stay a perfect ten.

I have enjoyed reading the Manly Daily newspaper again. It is full of curious little stories about the lifestyle here on the northern beaches of Sydney. The first time we were here in 2008 the very first headline I saw was “A Snake’s in my Bed!” and featured a front page photo of a woman reclining on her mattress while regarding a slithery reptile in the foreground. This time around the headlines have been more mundane, although yesterday’s lead story about local road conditions was heralded with bold type that demanded “Fix our Nightmare!" I am sure the traffic and potholes are bad around here, but I think the situation in Queensland after Cyclone Yasi and the floods of last month more properly fit the definition of nightmare.

Technodolt

I had my big presentation in front of a small, somewhat bored, audience of the assembled Australian Library and Information Association yesterday. I had no powerpoints to show, no videos, no internet websites, just my twenty minute talk about the death of reading and the demise of the book. There is simply no telling how it was received, except I can definitely testify that the applause at the conclusion of my remarks seemed somewhat forced. I was glad enough to get out of there, running off to catch the Manly ferry and get back home in time to participate in trivia night at the Fishos club on Pittwater Street with Ronald and his friends.

Today I rode the bus down to the mall to purchase a "dongle,' a prepaid device that theoretically allows one to tap into the internet, but of course I cannot do it. Fifty dollars and two hours later I found myself so frustrated that I returned to this internet cafe to post an entry and perhaps calm down a bit. I note there is a computer store across the street from this Subway and I will, as a last resort, take my laptop and newly purchased "dongle" to these chaps and offer them some money to make it work for me. It certainly would be more convenient than peddling down here in the midday heat. I would estimate the temperature to be about 95 degrees with humidity to match, a bit severe for a Wonderbread white Montanan like myself.

I spoke with Jayne again this morning. It seems that if I call her every day about sunrise I can catch her, and its a real comfort to hear her voice. I cant wait for her to join me here.

Exploration day

This morning I watched the sun come up over the Pacific again and drank my coffee. Feeling restless, I took the bus down to Manly and then the ferry into the city. I wandered around the Rocks area for a while and ended up drinking a few ice colds at the Fortune of War, advertised as the oldest pub in the city. It was awfully hot, so the beer was quite refreshing. Now, after posting this in an internet cafe, I am getting back on the bus to go home and read over my speech for tomorrow. I have to pay the piper for this trip!

The high point of my day, as always, was talking to Jayne on the telephone. I can't wait until she joins me next week.

Back in OZ!!!!

Here I sit in an internet cafe tucked behind a Subway sandwich shop in Narrabeen, New South Wales. I arrived yesterday after a lenghty airplane ride that I managed to sleep through for the most part. The only jet lag I felt was staying up until sundown here, which was about two in the morning Montana time. Today I feel great and have spent the morning peddling around the place on a bicycle that Jane loaned me. Last night we had a delicious dinner of lamb racks and salad, washed down with ice cold Cooper's sparkling ale. I have been to the local Woolworths to lay in a supply of Bundaburg rum, meat pies, and VB, so I am well stocked. I even managed to call Jayne this morning on my borrowed cell phone. Life is good!

Tomorrow I will probably be rehearsing my speech for the big conference on Wednesday. Jane will take me into the city and make sure I find the convention center that day, and afterwards Ronald is taking me to a local club for a trivia night competition. It is so exciting to be here! I plan to post as often as I can, so stay tuned for further updates. G'day, mates!