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The Story of me. The wrap up.

Well that’s it, thanks everyone for all your compliments. There’s just one thing that I want to make clear before I answer (if I can) a few questions. Several of you have expressed the fear that your life is boring compared to mine, or just plain boring. Read my lips..’Your lives are not boring’. I don’t say this to make anyone feel better, I say it because it’s a fact and I believe it. It only seems boring to you because you are living it and you know the full story.

Just stop for a second and ask yourself “when was the last I time was able to spend all day watching TV because I had nothing to do?” That’s closer to the definition of boredom. You need to be careful not to confuse a boring life with one that doesn’t have an exotic backdrop. The only difference between our lives is that my stage scenery is a bit more colourful, but ultimately the script doesn’t vary that much between us all. You’re born, you leave the nest, you make a life then you die.

1. How long ago was this? I’ve lived here for 3 years.

2. Don’t you miss the spoonin? Even when we sleep in the same bed we don’t spoon, never have.

3. Don’t you miss morning coffee on the patio – no words- just company? MDW doesn’t drink coffee.

4. Don’t you miss someone to tell you to take out the garbage? NO.

5. How difficult is the cost of two households? It’s not too bad. As this house is in regional Australia the rates (what you call taxes) are very cheap, I don’t pay for water, sewerage or garbage because there isn’t any. We own this one and only have a fairly small mortgage on the Coast house (and we have enough money in the bank to pay it out if we want to).

6. Don’t you worry that someone might sweep her off her feet? She is gorgeous. No I don’t and yes she is.

7. Did YDW just say Okay? Yes, she had to be on board because everything we own is in joint names. She’s used to my hairbrained schemes, I’ve come home with sailing boats more than once.

8. How often do you guys get to see each other? Usually every two or three months, but sometimes it can be every week. It depends on her schedule, she speaks at conferences all around Australia and overseas, last Feb she spoke at one in Vancouver.

9. Are you guys on the phone with each other a lot? We speak every few days. She gets home so late after a day of intense human interaction that she doesn’t have much left in the tank. If we need to talk we do.


The Story of me. Part 3

Of course we now have to do the Part 1 and Part 2 schtick. Ok now that’s out of the way we can continue.

This is me going to work as a newly ordained computer programmer. I bought that car to get to University and to this day regret getting rid of it.

I received a degree in computing (with Distinction) and went to work as an analyst programmer for a major bank (actually the biggest in Australia and one that owns several American banks) . After about a year I left there to work for the Sydney Water Corp (they supply water and sewerage to 4 million people) because I could work what’s known as a nine day fortnight, meaning every second weekend was three days. If I can just digress for a second to clear something up about correct usage: sewerage is the physical infrastructure i.e. pipes and treatment plants, sewage on the other hand is the shit that flows through it. Are you enlightened?

Eventually ended up in the position of Network Manager, responsible for the installation and support of around 9,000 workstations. Managed the migration from centralised to distributed processing. For the non computer types, that’s getting them off mainframe terminals and onto LAN connected PCs. Unfortunately for me, I was identified as someone who could get things done, and as a result became one of the organisations trouble shooters, taking over the management of projects that had gone off the rails. Talk about stressful, one of them was $6m over budget and 12 months past its deadline when I took it over. Being a high profile fuckup, I had to make regular Senate reports (yes that’s senate as in government).

Also during this period I was the president of the Central Coast Baseball Association, which comprised around 3,000 members playing Senior and Junior baseball in both Summer and Winter competitions. Do you see where i’m heading with this?

Let’s recap, at this point I’m working 60-70 hours a week not counting the 3 hours a day commute, and in my spare time I was administering to all kinds of egos who just wanted the best for their club and fuck everyone else. Then there were the meetings (club, association and judiciary) which took up at least 4 nights a week. So is the adrenaline pumping enough? I don’t think so, let’s have your father die and see what happens. What happens, is I decide that I don’t need this crap so I quit my job and resign from the CCBA.

After a couple of months doing projects around the house, I was offered a job in Newcastle. Although I wasn’t even looking for work, I took it and let the pressure build again. Tight deadlines and an hour’s drive each way should do it, not enough? OK, let’s kill your mother too, and then see what happens. What happens is detailed in my brush with death.

On completing the contract in Newcastle, I decided I was just going to enjoy life in the sanctity of my own home. A good idea yes? You would think so, but within 2 months of me deciding on this course of action, 6 of the 8 houses in the cul-de-sac were sold. Every one of the new families had at least three and up to five children under 15 who thought that using my front yard for soccer would be fine with me, it wasn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I like kids, particularly with a side of fries, a good crusty bread and a nice cold beer. But having them yelling and screaming for hours on end and running through my property without ever having any chance of a possible upside like their parents (I didn’t imagine the little darlings would be caring for me in my dotage), didn’t make for a peaceful and relaxing retirement.

Suddenly out of nowhere I had an epiphany, “Fuck this shit! I’m getting a place in the country!” And I did.

Ok so now you know. I hope you’re not too disappointed. No violent scene, no great argument with MDW, no threats of divorce or the like, just a desire for a peaceful life. But then if you’ve read my earlier posts you would have known that MDW and I have never had a serious argument, in fact we’ve only ever had three minor ones.

Back in Time.

You’re lucky to be getting this post, I had just finished it and Blogger bought the farm before I had saved it! Anyway, because I’m an outcome driven kinda guy, I’m going to labouriously recreate it just for you guys (and me of course).

Seeing as we’ve been taking a trip down memory lane the last couple of days I thought this was an appropriate picture….

I came across it last night as I was scanning some old negatives looking for subjects for future posts (I found a few, not many). Unless you’ve been on another planet for the last 50 years, you should recognise this as the same kind of car Dr. Emmett Brown drove in Back to the Future, otherwise known as the DMC-12 (or just the De Lorean as it was the only model ever produced).

What you may not know however, is that despite the De Lorean Motor Company being in Texas, the car was actually made in Ireland. Another bit of trivia is that John De Lorean was also responsible for creating the Pontiac GTO in response to the massive popularity of Lee Iaccoa’s Mustang.

Then of course there’s that whole FBI entrapment thing. So, as I was proofreading this (before blogger ate my post the first time), I noticed the car parked behind it was actually our Mercury Capri, so here’s a picture of it….

When I was looking for a picture of the Capri, I found this….

This is a picture of both our cars parked together, the little ladies Mustang (a derogatory lable often given to the Mustang Ghia) has a fascinating story of its own that I will definitely tell soon.