Yes, summer in Australia means sun, sand, surf, scorching days, and balmy nights - but with those comes an annual invasion by insects. Among the most welcome are dragonfiles and butterflies, but among the least welcome are the dreaded mosquito. The suspected culprit here is most likely Culex Molestus, common name Mole, or possibly it’s night time biting cousin Culex Quinqefasciatus. The irony that they are a prime source of food for the Dragonfly, is not lost on me…
It seems as if I am in a wicked downward spiral of time poverty lately, and blogging unfortunately has been pushed to the bottom of the work pile ( in case you haven’t noticed… Singaporian lurker ). There’s a whole lot going on in TinyTown, and despite the economy’s seemingly overwhelming desire to disappear up it’s own poop-chute, I am flat out with work.
It’s about to get a whole lot more silly after the end of October, and I’m afraid I have no choice but to seriously scale back my feeble contribution to the blog-o-drome. To this end, tremendously unpopular columns like “Generalboy remembers” will get the heave-ho. I am also sad to report that I am going to have to suspend Time Wastin’ Tuesday.
On the upside, I would rather write one random post that is somewhat readable at my leisure, and also have a quick look at the few blogs I still read, over the course of the week. I also hope the missing stuff may be replaced by a small, regular review feature that I can write just about anywhere, with limited time. Aside from that though, I will probably be reverting to just one post a week for the forseeable future.
I do owe everyone a catch up, and I will visit the handful of readers that are still kind enough to drop by over the weekend sometime. Except for you, lurker from Amsterdam… I don’t even know if you have a blog or are just shy. But that’s OK. 
In the next stage of the movie of my life I plunge myself into moto-x racing, obviously to help me forget Sandy. My parents are excited when I win my first club race, and there’s another montage of me going to bigger and bigger race meetings, pulling wheelies as I cross the finish line in first place, and holding trophies aloft on podiums. I’m doing really well until the accident ( you knew that was coming, right? ). The scene is horrible - I get mud flicked up on my goggles and suddenly can’t see. As I work frantically to get them off someone hits me from behind ( slow-mo ) and I go down… and then about 15 bikes run me over. They stop the race and my mum runs onto the track where I am lying in agony… my last memory before the scene fades to black is of her face above me… and I wake up in hospital.
While I am lying there feeling sorry for myself in my sick bed, I get a visitor. He’s the local service station owner and a friend of the family, and he tells me I better get well soon because he wants to sponsor me. He hands me a contract and I sign on the dotted line and everyone drinks Coca Cola ( product placement ) to celebrate. Before long I am back into racing and winning again, but soon I come up against the factory sponsored riders in A-grade. They make fun of me in the pits and call me “Caltex cowboy”, laughing because they all have 3 bikes and factory gear while I have old gear and one bike. In typical Hollywood fashion there’s an underdog showdown where I beat them all, and they are forced to respect me. The Suzuki team rider shakes my hand after the race and says something cheesy like “you can really ride man”, a phrase no-one in the sport would ever use. The audience thinks I am content… but there’s a quiet scene where I am going to bed, and I pull out a crinkled old photo of Sandy and stare at it for a long time.
The ski trip cheers me up, and I meet up with my best friend Chris, who the writers have renamed “Joey”. Joey and I ski all day and race each other down black diamond runs. One night I meet a girl and we play music on my ghetto blaster all night, and I go toboganning with her the next day. There’s a long scene set to music where we throw snow at each other and I chase her around. It’s only a matter of time before we fall over, inevitably lock lips, and are overcome by holiday romance. Joey gets jealous and storms off, but we have a reconcilliation later. The girl has to leave early and we share a lingering kiss goodbye, then she is gone forever. This device is supposed to indicate I have gotten over Sandy. Some time later I meet a pretty girl at the railway station who dares me to kiss her. I accept her challenge in front of my friends, and they are dumbfounded. This scene seems totally out of place in the film and is inexplicable.
Fast forward to my late teens, and cars and girls and parties and drinking. Several signs tell the audience I am starting to go off the rails. You see me playing drinking games, getting into fights, and later vomiting. Then there’s a scene where I have some girl in the car screaming at me while I drag race somebody. There’s a close up of the speedometer showing 220km/h. Things look like going from bad to worse… then I meet her.
I spot her across a party crowd, she’s talking to someone and I look all distracted. “Who’s she?” I ask one of my friends. She has long, alpine blonde hair and fine, high cheekbones, with sparkling blue eyes. For a second she looks my way… before returning to her conversation. She is the one. I finally summon up the courage to talk to her, but as I get within arm’s length some other guy muscles in… and I am forced to retreat. You think it’s all over until I hail a taxi to get home. As I open the door and get in, someone opens the door on the other side and gets in at the same time, and we both say to the driver where we want to go at the same time. Of course, it’s her, and this breaks the ice. We laugh and end up sharing a cab, and by the time we stop at her place it’s like we’ve known each other forever. I say “I feel like I’ve met you before… maybe in a past life”. She says “you never know”. She pays the driver, gets out and pushes the door closed. I tell the driver “wait!”, and I roll down the window and call after her. “What’s you’re name?” I yell. She stops and turns back, and yells “Louise!”. I then yell back, “Soo… Louise… what are you doing tomorrow night?”. She pauses and smiles, tilting her head as if she’s considering something. She walks back to the cab and pulls a shopping docket out of her purse, pressing it up against the glass and writing something on it. She hands it to me and says “ask me tomorrow”.
As she retreats I unfold the piece of paper. There’s a close up of the phone number. I smile whimsically, and the cab drives away…
( …to be continued )
I’d be born with only a midwife and no doctor, on some run down farm in the middle of nowhere. At age 2 I’d have some horrible accident, and end up in hospital, my life in the balance for several days. My parents would hold hands a cry a lot. I’d pull through, and become strong and healthy, and soon have a little sister to play with. At age 5 I’d run away from home because I was jealous of the attention she got, carrying a stick over my shoulder with a tied up handkerchief of food on one end. Once again my parents would be worried sick, but I’d be found hiding in my cubbyhouse, hugging my teddy. I’d say “I wuv you mummy”, and they’d melt, cue uplifting orchestral piece with lots of strings.
At 7 years old I would walk past a motorbike shop and tell my dad I wanted a motorbike, and dad would say “when you’re older, son”. There’d be a nice montage of me catching tadpoles and lizards, and making kites with my dad, and riding ponies, to illustrate the passage of time. At 8 years old there’d be another scene out front ot the motorbike shop with me peering inside, and telling dad “I’m older now!”. But the next two years there would be a dreadful drought, and by the time the rain came my parents would be virtually broke.
At 10 I would meet my first love, the writers would call her Sandy because of her sunny complexion and honey blonde hair. Sandy would live in a big house on the hill, and her family would be rich - to contrast my family’s poverty. Her father would be a tyrant who would banish common stock like me from their property - so Sandy and I would have to meet in secret.
One day Dad would take me to a motocross race, and I’d never be the same. I’d become obsessed with getting the motorbike, but with mum and dad so poor I would have to work for it. There’s another montage of me doing all sorts of backbreaking farm work with close up shots of sweat on my forehead, and toward the end, my hands bleeding. The next scene is where I walk into the bike shop and dump $550 on the counter. Of course I have messed up and I am one dollar short. The bikeshop owner winks at my dad and pretends I can’t have it until I work an extra week… and I look crushed. Then he says “tell ya what kid… clean the showroom window and it’s yours”. As soon as I get the bike home, I ride over to meet Sandy and show her. She jumps on the back and we ride off down by the river. It’s all shot in soft focus with music and close ups us smiling and laughing, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. When we get home she’s in big trouble. Her father forbids her to see me ever again.
I am devastated because I love Sandy, but I never tell her this. Through school she meets Larry, who is from a rich Italian familly. He is handsome and funny, and her father approves. My heart is broken. Plenty of footage of me crying follows.
( …to be continued )
A - ABC, Adam Ant, Air, Alice in Chains, Alpinestars, Altered Images, Ammonia, Art of Noise, Arrested Development, Atomic Swing, Audioslave, The Avalanches
B - Beck, Butterfingers, B52’s, Bergerac, The Buggles, Blur, The (English) Beat, Blondie, Bad Manners, Bad Religion, Pat Benetar, Bloc Party, The Bravery, Bis, Bowie, Frank Black, Big Audio Dynamite, Blancmange, Berlin, Beastie Boys, James Brown, Butthole Surfers, The Bee Gee’s, The Breeders, Bloodhound Gang, Jeff Buckley (some), Gnarls Barkley, Julie Brown, MC Paul Barman, Bertie Blackman, Basement Jaxx, Belly, Graham Bonnet
C - Cabaret Voltaire, Cake, Camille, Captain Sensible, The Carpenters, The Cars, Johnny Cash, Celibate Rifles, The Chemical Brothers, Nene Cherry, The Chills, Citizen King, The Clash, Classix Nouveaux, Coldplay, Concrete Blonde, Alice Cooper, Cody ChesnuTT, Elvis Costello, The Cult, The Cure, Cut Copy, Claire Bowditch
D - The Doves, Devo, Datarock, The Damned, Ian Dury, The Dugites, The Dukes of Stratosphere, The Dresden Dolls, Dead Kennedys, Deadstar, The Decemberists, The Dandy Warhols, The Dears, Depeche Mode, Death Cab For Cutie, Donovan, The Donnas, The Darling Buds, Disposable Heroes of hiphopracy, Thomas Dolby
E - Elastica, Editors, Electronic, Elbow, The Eurythmics, ELO, Ed Kuepper, Electric Six
F - Franz Ferdinand, Faker, The Futureheads, Falco, Fischer Z, The Fall, Foo Fighters (some), A Flock of Seagulls, The Fixx, The Falling Joys, Fatboy Slim, Michael Frante, Fiction Factory
G - Gus Gus, Gorillaz, Goldfrapp, Grand National, Green Day (early), The Go-Go’s, Peter Gabriel (some), Golden Earring, Grandmaster Flash, Garbage, Generation X, Dave Graney and the Coral Snakes, Gary Numan, The Great Temptation
H - Heaven 17, Hilltop Hoods, Hole, Bill Haley & His Comets, The Human League, The Headless Chickens, Hot Chocolate, Isaac Hayes, Henry Rollins, Haircut 100, The Hold Steady, The Hives, The Howling Bells
I - Icehouse, Billy Idol, Interpol, Imperial Teen, Iggy, INXS (pre 1985)
J - The Jeevas, Jack Johnson, The Jam, Jane’s Addiction, Joy Division, Joe Boxers, James
K - Kings of Leon, King Trigger, KC and the sunshine band, Kylie (some), The Killers, KISS (some), The Kinks, The Kaiser Chiefs
L - Ladytron, Lloyd Cole & the commotions, Loverboy, Leona Ness, Landscape, Lene Lovich, The Laughing Clowns, L7, Lemonheads
M - Madness, Mint Royale, M, Machine Translations, Maximo Park, Machinations, The Mountain Goats, Mr. Floppy, Mclusky, The Magnetic Fields, Moby, Massive Attack, Muse (some), The Models (early), Bob Marley, Madonna (some), Morrissey, Midnight Oil (early), Modern English, Men Without Hats, Marcy Playground, Mercury Rev, Machine Gun Fellatio
N - The New Pornographers, New Young Pony Club, Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, N.E.R.D, NIN (some), New Order, Nick Cave and the bad seeds, Nash the Slash
O - OMD, Oasis, OK Go, Old man River
P - The Pixies, Peaches, The Police, Liz Phair, Pink Floyd, Placebo, Polyphonic Spree, PIL, Primus (some), Painters and Dockers, PULP, The Presets, Phoenix, Psychedelic Furs, The Primatives, Pollyanna, The Pursuit of Happiness, The Pretenders, Porno for Pyros, Pearl Jam, Robert Palmer, The Presidents of the United States of America
Q - Queen, Queens of the Stoneage
R - The Ramones, The Rakes, Stan Ridgeway, Redd Kross, The Ruts, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Rolling Stones, Roxy Music, Rebeccas’s Empire, Regurgitator, Romeo Void, Lou Reed
S - Severed Heads, Spoon, Space, The Specials, Sterolab, The SEEN, Suicidal Tendencies, Regina Spektor, Single Gun Theory, The Screaming Blue Messiahs, Strange Tennants, Soft Cell, The Selector, Shooteez Groove, Soul Coughing, The Stranglers, The Stone Roses, Spandau Ballet, Soundgarden, Smashing Pumpkins, Siouxsie and the Banshees, SPK, Stone Temple Pilots, Simple Minds ( pre 1985 ), The Smiths, The Strokes, The Scissor Sisters, Snow Patrol, Split Enz, The Sneaker Pimps, Simon & Garfunkel, The Squirrel Nut Zippers, Shriekback, The Sex Pistols, Skunkhour, Nancy Sinatra, Snakefinger, Boz Scaggs, The Spazzys, Sisters of Mercy, Shakespear’s Sister, Spearhead
T - The The, The Cops (Aus), TISM, Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club, The Teardrop Explodes, Peter Tosh, TZU, The Three D’s, Tenacious D, Tears for Fears, 311, Tool, Thompson Twins, Tubeway Army, They Might Be Giants, Tripping Daisy
U - Ultravox, The Undertones, Underground Lovers
V - Visage, The Vines, Violent Femmes, The Von Bondies, Voice of the beehive
W - Wall of Voodoo, Ween, WAH!, Weezer, The Wonder Stuff, World Party, The White Stripes, Waikiki
X - X, XTC
Y - Yazoo, Yellow, You am I
Z - Zazzie, Frank Zappa
1. I am an impatient driver. I have no time for rude, stupid or doddery motorists, and I frequently convey this information to them with sign language.
2. Saturday is “no shave day”. If I am not going out on Saturday night, Sunday is “no shave day” too. You will not enjoy my stubble after two days… trust me…
3. My personal Tax is completely out of control. It’s my problem, but soon it will become your problem.
4. I am a dummy spitter. Don’t misread that as having a short fuse - I am usually a very patient, mild mannered sort of bloke. It might take me 4 hours and a sucession of failures to get there… but then I’ll throw something. Preferably something that will break.
5. I’m a jiggler. I might be working, on the phone, or sitting with you at a restauraunt, it doesn’t matter. One of my knees, legs or feet will be jiggling. And it will shit you.
6. I surf far too much. If I blogged about even a quarter of the surfs I have in an average month you’d want to punch me. Or just never read my blog again. Or maybe both.
7. I am not spontaneous. You might think it’s a great idea to jump on the next flight to Reykjavik
and elope, but I am wondering if my shots are up to date, who will take care of the cat, and how maxed out my credit card will be when we get back.
8. I probably won’t like eating what you do. Seafood… Red Meat… Chicken… cross them off the list for starters. So honey, where would you like to go for dinner?
9. I will spoil your photo. I really don’t like the way I look in pictures ( unless I’m surfing ), and I can’t do that whole “smile for the camera NOW!” thing. Most of the time if I do, it looks forced, and fake. I have become better at it in recent years, but believe me, the prints will still disappoint you.
10. I hate clubs. I did them to death in my adolescence, and I hated them then. If you wanna go out and dance to techo, fine… just don’t ask me to “put my hands up in the air”.