Signals From Space?

Sometimes I think my brain is a radio receiver, specifically one that picks up electro magnetic transmissions that squeezed through the ionosphere and hurtled through space, only to be deflected back our way by some unsuspecting planet or star, returning to Earth many years later.

Tonight, as I was getting into the shower, I began to sing Ball Bearing Bird, a ridiculous piece of musical endeavour from the mid 70s. I haven't heard it in decades.

All I could do was scream "WTF!!" and earth myself via the nearest metallic object, in my case a tap.

Gee things are getting weird in my life!

I know you are curious, especially the younger folk spared the pain, so I've attached the profound and touching words below:

Oh, what a hey, what a my, what a bird it is
Rare as the rarest that ever occurred it is
Said to be known to be roaming around
For it scatters ball bearings all over the ground

The ball bearing bird, the ball bearing bird
Has never been seen, has never been heard
It is said to be known to be roaming around
For it scatters ball bearings all over the ground

Just like the rooster that crows in the morn
It is thought to explode like a shotgun at dawn
It is said to be best to be out of the way
When it's loaded with shot and it's ready to spray

Nobody knows if it's able to fly
It's probably too bloomin' lazy to try
It's known to be prone to lay fifty pound eggs
Which is probably why it's weak in the legs

The ball bearing bird, the ball bearing bird
Has never been seen, has never been heard
It is known to be known to be roaming around
For it scatters ball bearings all over the ground

The ball bearing bird, the ball bearing bird
Has never been seen, has never been heard
It is known to be known to be roaming around
For it scatters ball bearings all over the ground

Thanks for hearing me out again, I hope St Mary McKillop is smiling down on you all.

Cheers

Peter

Utes, Aerials, Lights & Mudflaps - An Unholy Combo

Let me confess ... I drive a ute and I wear (some) RM Williams clothes.

I’m considering forsaking these idiosyncrasies due to a cringe inducing phenomenon that assaults all facets of public good taste. I refer to what I believe is called the BNS Ute (see pic, example only).

Yesterday, returning from my rage inducing visit to Toys R Us (see earlier whinge on this blog) I came across one of the aforementioned monstrosities heading along Majura Road toward Canberra.

This beast was the father-of-all-utes, oversized RM Williams logo on the back window, triple RM Williams mudflaps (one for each wheel and one huge one in the middle), and a plethora of BNS stickers. The bad taste continued, two monster HF whip aerials that wouldn’t look out of place on a warship, a rack of massive spotlights on the roof and when I pulled up at the next set of lights I noticed a bullbar that could have been sourced from one of those armoured fighting vehicles you see being used to bust up Muslim terrorist strongholds in Afghanistan.

I accelerated smartly away, leaving him in my wake. After all, my bog standard VZ SV6 is much more nimble than something carting half a tonne of surplus military hardware. I just needed to get to a happy place, a place of good taste.

There are only a few things I don’t understand. Women, opera and economics have eluded me for years, now I can add this to the list. What is the need? Do these people (believe it or not some are girls!) work or live in areas so remote as to need HF radio? Do they drive around in feral camel territory? Do they need to see things as far away as the next planet?

If anyone can shed light (low beam only please) by all means let me know!

Gotta run, dumping my RM Williams stuff in the Salvo bin and I’ll trade the ute for a wagaon.

The Curse Of Halloween In The Antipodes

Twas in Toys R Us this morning, shopping for the grandson's birthday pressie, as you do. Couldn't quite get over the fact that in the entry way was a section totally devoted to Halloween.

Ok kiddies, repeat after Uncle Pedro, "Halloween is celebrated in North America and Europe. It has never had any significance in Australia, nor was it "celebrated". We do not Trick and Treat. We do not hollow out pumpkins. We do not dress like witches!"

Casting my mind back as a kid in the 60's and early 70's I can't remember even a whiff of Halloween making it to our insular little kingdom other than what we read about and saw in TV shows and movies. We never actually embraced it by participating.

Nowadays, there are kids banging on your door on the night of 31 October, trick or treating, their little faces all expectant at the thought of something for nothing. Not only is it annoying but I would think a little dangerous, you never know what kind of Uncle Pervy lurks behind some doors!

I'm sure that Halloween's awesome fun if it's a part of your national culture and I have no issue with that at all. But some things are best left in America where it must mean something. To all those late model Gen X and the Gen Y parents out there ... Stop it! Stop it NOW!

My rant is finished.

A Tale Of Courage!

My SO, Lovely Leslie aka @lesliedupreez, had 2 goldfish. One was a bully and ate the other smaller one's fins and tail. The bully was banished. Now we just have Stumpy, a little battler. Stumpy wiggles around his tank. Check out the happy smile on his little fishy face! We think The Stumpster rocks. Go Stumpy!

My Family

Us!

Fun at Maccas Ulladulla

Having some fun at Macca's, extolling the virtues of the Mega Mac et al.

When I Wore A Younger Man's Clothes #1

From the archives.

Naval Air Station Nowra, 1985, passenger in a Westland Wessex Mk31B helicopter.

Not sure what the occasion was, maybe being used as a crash test dummy for winching practice.

Awesome fun!