It seems to me that the success or failure of Love is largely dependent upon memory, those things we carry with us. It is certain that no Love affair maintains its initial ardor but those that last – remember.
The house, the tree and an ending poetic
Like millions of Americans my house is in foreclosure, it is due to go under the hammer on May 6th I believe. Not much time left.
I should be able to say I will leave here with sadness or regret or at the very least mixed feelings after all this is the first (and most probably the last) house that I have bought in the US. With the exception of the two ladies, who I wished would have lived here, all of my children were raised in this home. We had some memorable and fun times here. But I can’t say that I’ll be sad; I’ll be glad to see it go.
More recently it has become the physical embodiment of my failures. The standing testament to two failed relationships, failed businesses and four years of financial struggle. Failure to support my family, failure to meet my responsibilities and failure to drag myself out of a dark, dark, brutal and ridiculously lengthy depression.
In the backyard is a maple tree, that my ex left unattended as it formed a huge cleft in its centre (effectively it is split in two). One day it will fall over, and its BIG. To prevent this from happening I bought a full reel of 400 lb rope which I have wound around and through the gap in the trunk in a figure 8 fashion, essentially binding it together. Despite this, I secretly hoped that the tree would topple into the house in the strong (50mph+) winds that tears through this part of the world every autumn and spring. The poetic symbolism of a ruddy great tree ( that had been split in two! – beautiful!) collapsing into the middle of the house, making matchsticks of it, would be priceless, and nothing I can think of could better represent the way I feel about this house and the past four years. Each time the wind howls I eagerly watch and wait for some drastic swaying motion, some slackening of the rope and a thunderous crack that would announce the end of the house, my grief and this awful period of my life. Alas, I did a really good job with the rope. Bugger.
Just when my hopes of a fitting disaster to mark my departure from this house seemed dashed, a strange and wonderful thing happened. A couple of days ago I was working away on setting up this blog with some much-needed improvements, when a jack-hammering noise began in my roof. A really, really loud noise that was disturbingly close. I marched outside and circled the property trying to figure out where the ruckus was coming from, there wasn’t a clue to be found. The racket continued unabated. I went back inside, made myself a cuppa while I pondered what could possibly be making such a massive hammering noise just above my head BRRRRRRRRRRRRR, BRRRRRRRRRRR. Then it dawned on me; it had been a long time but I finally recognized the noise – it was a woodpecker ripping into some wood. A woodpecker was destroying my house! Even better, much better, the little bugger had found a hole into my eaves and was attacking the trusses (I think). Most homeowners familiar with the destructive powers of a woodpecker are now absolutely horrified. I’m not. What resourcefulness! What a smart little guy!
My mate
If he’s successful in no time a section of my roof is collapsing – and none too soon! His timing is impeccable, the Gods of irony have looked down upon me and my plight and are grinning. My time has come at last.
Come down roof! Smash this bastard place to smithereens, set it ablaze.
Go little woodpecker go! Bring me justice I say!
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EXT:
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SIMONS HOUSE
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LATE AFTERNOON
Simon is seen exiting the property, he locks the front door as he leaves. He earnestly walks away from the house. There is a loud drilling, the sound of the woodpecker hammering away at the eaves. The noise gradually increases in volume as Simon walks away, finally reaching a crescendo; when… a section of the roof spectacularly collapses and a blaze breaks out. Simon does not look back and continues to walk. Suddenly the house explodes sending glass and debris showering around Simon who continues to stroll away unflustered. Neighbours come out from houses beside the burning house and from down the street, they hurry to douse their own homes, to protect them from the inferno. Someone points at Simon as he continues to walk, he quickly spins as he walks momentarily taking in the scene. A woodpecker swoops down past Simon’s shoulder. A huge smile creeps across Simon’s face. The woodpecker returns and circles him. We follow the woodpecker as it hurtles vertically upwards into a perfect blue sky…
ROLL CREDITS
How frickin’ cool would that be?
OK The last bit couldn’t be more corny (but we had to know the bird is alright. Right?)
SIMONS EASTER EGG
Posted in Day-to-Day / Diary
Tagged bloodhound gang, fire, foreclosure, home, house, justice, maple, roof, tree, water, woodpecker
1 Comment
Entering the blogosphere
The Bloke Show has launched and is careering through the blogosphere as I type. The site has just been upgraded and I’ve installed some widgets and plug-ins to allow me to see how we are going. Here’s the news – Since Feb 25 we have had just shy of 400 visitors – which (to me) is truly remarkable. Somewhere between 15 and 40 people a day have visited the site, 20 % of those people have looked at more than one page, very encouraging. The US provides the bulk of the visitors followed by the UK and Australia, which is quite surprising, as the majority of visitors on the FB fan page are from Australia.
People from over 20 countries have visited the site including people from Germany, Netherlands, Mauritius, The Russian Federation, Switzerland, New Zealand, The Republic of Moldova, Canada, Finland, Indonesia, France Luxembourg, Latvia, Belgium, Brazil, Myanmar and the Czech Republic.
In the real world these numbers are so small as to not even create the smallest blip on any radar, but for a site thats biggest marketing effort has been to syndicate with an FB app called Networked Blogs – the result isn’t half bad.
The Bloke Show intends to continue its completely random heading through the Blogosphere, flying through the bloggy cosmos in the face of conventional wisdom that states we should clearly define what the blog is about. This directionless missile is up for anything, so if you would like to contribute a post or an idea or want a soapbox of sorts – here we are. If you have a painting,a photograph, a story or event you want to let the world know about – hellloooo , we are hurtling past your doorstep. We expect to find a direction in the next, oh I don’t know, ten years or so. Maybe we’ll find a path, maybe we won’t but its all in the name of fun anyhow. So feel welcome to contribute (or not) although any and all feedback is very much appreciated.
In the next couple of days the intrepid soul at the helm of this vacillating craft will post a new entry.
Til then ciao to my fellow travelers.
SIMONS EASTER EGG
The Unbearable Lightness of Being – Life Love and Sex
The Unbearable Lightness of Being is a 1988 film adaptation of the novel by Milan Kundera. A film that really is quite a departure from the novel but stands as a work of art in its own right. Incidentally, Milan Kundera, the author, does not agree with me, he so disapproved of the translation that he has allowed no further adaptations of his work.
I love and admire both the book and the film in their own right, but it is Jean-Claude Carriere’s adaptation and Philip Kaufman’s film of the novel that has captured my imagination and my heart; it has produced resonances that have stayed with me since I first saw it, seemingly transmuting its meaning according to whatever situation I have found myself in life as I have aged.
Set in Czechoslovakia and Paris during the Prague Spring of 1968, The Unbearable Lightness of Being is the story of three people – Tomas a surgeon; his wife Tereza, a photographer; and Tomas’ lover, bohemian artist, Sabina. Tomas a lothario figure engages in numerous sexual encounters and lives life “lightly” floating from one encounter to the next, he is best understood by his lover Sabina who cannot commit to a relationship and struggles both in her personal life and through her artwork against her interpretation of “kitsch” – the commonplace, the imitated, the reproduced, the tasteless. Sabina is always leaving, never able to commit to a relationship or place. Tereza, who in many ways is the anchor for the film, seeks permanence and security, a woman who loves her husband unreservedly and who doesn’t understand Tomas’ frequent philandering.
As a philosophical film it highlights life’s impermanence and questions the nature of love. It is a very rare film which can be viewed over the period of many years, with each viewing offering a different vision, a different viewpoint on the same subject; usually this is the domain of the theatre, where each production, each collaboration can accentuate different elements of the text, each character is interpreted differently, each relationship investigated from a singular perspective, each performance: a new and unique experience. In film, once the performances are captured and the editing complete, a film has told its story and is done, the performances cannot change, the relationships do not alter from what has been trapped upon the celluloid; and yet somehow this doesn’t seem to hold true in The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Such is the nature of this movie, that each time I view it, it tells a different tale, braces the theme in a new way and evokes different feelings. The way an artwork is perceived is a relationship between the artist(s) and the person beholding the work, the result being the synergy of the artist(s) intentions and that which the beholder brings to the work. It would defy logic that I could have changed so drastically that I have altered the substance of the work itself; and yet so it seems.
It is the wonderful translation, deft direction and terrific performances that makes The Unbearable Lightness of Being one of my favorite films and one that comes highly recommended.
SIMONS EASTER EGG
One of my fave Aussie tunes from 1977
Australia – Socialist, Dangerous, Unfriendly
It is a sad day. In a thinly veiled attempt to encourage tourism and immigration, the Australian Government has lined the pockets of the 2011 Economist Intelligence Unit whose report of the world’s most liveable cities numbers four Australian cities in the top ten. How ridiculous is that?
The tourism industry at home must be really suffering and one can’t help but be sympathetic to its plight, however this calculated and deceptive stance isn’t doing anyone any favours: not the Aussie tourism industry , not the Australian public, not the citizens of the fine cities to whom these accolades (huh!) rightly belong and especially not to the unwitting EIU report reader who might actually think that Australia is a not-to-be-missed tourist destination or a place one might actually want to live. The truth is Australia is a socialist, dangerous, unfriendly shithole.
The people at the EIU sneakily justify their city rankings by using outdated criteria. According to the EIU website – each city is assigned a score for over 30 qualitative and quantitative factors across five broad categories:
* stability
* health care
* culture and environment
* education
* infrastructure
As far as I can see if you’re living in a developed western country, all of these categories are, you know (give or take a war in the Middle East or two, an uninsured death or thousand, and the like) the same. What differentiates NY from Melbourne? Sydney from Paris? The criteria should reflect what’s important to the average bloke.
To address this terrible wrong, I propose the introduction of five easy-to-remember new categories that are definable and measurable and most importantly, categories that really paint an accurate picture of the examined city’s liveability for the average punter.
New suggested categories
Responsibilityility
The liveability of Australian cities is much more difficult to quantify separately using this criterion as Australians are so heavily taxed federally for such wasteful and unprofitable things as a nationalized health system and education. Yet they don’t even have Macys in Australia. No Macys. Can you imagine? No Nordstroms. No Neiman Marcus. No Saks. No Jack-in-the box. No In-n-out. It is a place to brush up on your basic survival strategy. Each city is more than happy however, to part with hard earned tax-payer dollars on public transportation, parks, roads and infrastructure. Nutty. Wheres the cash to encourage (subsidize) businesses to set up shop in these cities? None to be found. Barmy and grossly irresponsible.
Responsibilityility Rating – A dismal 1 out of 5.
Fatalityality
Do we really need to go here? The moment you step on Australian soil you might as well kiss your life goodbye. Every Australian city is overrun with creatures of the fatal variety, from spiders to stingers, sharks to snakes and stonefish to scorpions – if its dangerous, could kill you and begins with the letter “s” – Australia’s got it. Depending upon the geographical location of the Australian city in question, they get loads of natural disasters too – earthquakes, cyclones, floods ,droughts, landslides and bushfires.
What I’m saying is that you probably want to think twice before stepping off the plane at all.
Fatalityality Rating – A deadly 1 out of 5 (1 being death certain!)
Sydney at night
Hospitalityility
Australia is a country of criminals and reprobates if you’re expecting loving welcomes’ think again. True, the gun ownership rate in Australia is very low compared with other parts of the world, so although they may want to shoot tourists on sight, Australians are far more likely to mow visitors down with withering glances and hurtful remarks.
EXAMPLE 1
You are an American citizen, and in passing an Australian hears your accent and asks “Are you a American by any chance?” What he/she actually means is “Why don’t you fuck off home?”
Bet ya didn’t know that.
The grin isn’t friendly, its a baring of teeth: threatening behaviour. The correct safety response here is to avert your gaze, profusely apologize, deny having ever voted for either President Bush, offer any alcohol you may have in your possession to the aggressive native and slowly back away. Failure to do this could result in the wild Australian pinning back his ears and marking his territory. I’m pretty sure you don’t really want to know what that entails.
EXAMPLE 2
You are French; a smartarse Aussie approaches and says “Bonjour, Monsieur. Comment allez-vous aujourd’hui? Eh bien, je l’espère.” This is actually code for “Watch out boys, this ones a frog, and you know how useful they were in the war”.
The correct response is nearly identical to the American response, except DO NOT offer French wine, this will be taken as an act of aggression.
Australians are a conniving, backhanded mob, if you are visiting and someone says “G’day” it should be taken as a warning. At this point you should be scuttling back to your hotel room to gather your belongings and call the airline to book seats on the next departing plane for your homeland.
Hospitalityility Rating – A generous 2 out of 5. They probably won’t kill you.
Its a trap - Australians posing as tourists - notice their aggressive behavior.
Afordabilityality
It’ll cost you about a years wages and at least a day of your life to get there and the same to get back. Everything is really, really expensive. Tipping is not customary in Australia but it is expected that visitors, when dining out, also pay for the meals of all those seated at adjacent tables. Houses are expensive, food is expensive, cars are really expensive and clothing is… well look at Australians will ya? They are truly socialists dressed up in socialist’s clothing.
Affordabilityality Rating – 1 out of 5.
Employabilityness
No one in Australia is employed. They spend all of their time at the (heavily polluted) beaches, surfing, fishing and lying around in the sun. When they do actually deign to work every other day is a day off … its either a “sickie” (a day taken off due to “ill health”) or one of the public holidays listed hereunder:
New Year’s Day Monday 3 January
*in addition to Saturday 1 January
*in addition to Monday 2 January
Australia Day Wednesday 26 January
Labour Day Monday 14 March
Good Friday Friday 22 April
The Saturday before Easter Sunday
Saturday 23 April
Easter Monday Monday 25 April
ANZAC Day Tuesday 26 April
*substitute for Monday 25 April
Queen’s Birthday Monday 13 June
Melbourne Cup Day Tuesday 1 November
Christmas Day Tuesday 27 December
*substitute for Sunday 25 December
Boxing Day Monday 26 December
Please note as evidenced above, if a public holiday falls on a weekend an EXTRA day is given for the holiday.
Don’t go thinking that because Australians don’t work there is a glut of jobs around, this isn’t so. Think logically here, there are no Australians working ….therefore….. there are no jobs. It’s as simple as that.
Employabilityness Rating – 1 out of 5 . No jobs.
CONCLUSION
Australia is a third world backwater in the middle of nowhere inhabited by heathens. This is not a place that is deserving of a liveability rating at all, nevermind four cities in the top ten! Australia is NOT a place to emigrate to, a fact that is perhaps best summarized by the PM who has clearly had a change of heart.
She writes –
“Thanks for your interest in Australia. It is probably best you should know that we are a poor and fundamentally unfriendly people who wish to be left alone in our destitution and misery. It would be best if you considered more accommodating places for your new place of residence. I hear that Somalia is nice this time of year. Thanks for your understanding.
Oh, nearly forgot – Australia rocks!”
The PM
Not The Prime Minister - just some ugly surf troll (photo not taken in Australia)
Simons Easter Egg