Saturday, June 25, 2016

Fritzed PC

As of last Wednesday the desktop pc is broken. Only a few months old, it is under warrSanty, but sending it to Sydney? Although our own computer man moved from Balaclava to St Kilda and then to Moorabbin and we followed him, he has now shut up shop.  He would have fixed the problem in a few minutes.  Instead it is at a professional repair place for a few days. The issue is that it would only boot to the bios screen. I could have fixed that with old Windows versions. Windows 10, I don't have a clue.
 
I don't have access to photos as recent photos are on the desk top so I will just rant a bit in the last post for a few days.

So much crap is happening with our friends.  You would think by the age of sixty plus, such rubbish would not happen.

It is rare that I finish late at work but on the very night we were going to see Sound of Music, I finished at work unavoidably late. The traffic home was hideous too and instead of being in a nice relaxed mood, I was mega stressed, as was R by me being late. 6:53, car swap, 6:54, inside. 6:57, changed clothes, 6:58 looked at not working computer bios screen 7:05 hop on tram to town, 7:17 meet theatre friends, 7:22 find a quiet corner to eat half the curried egg sandwich R had made for me as a substitute for dinner, 7:25 collect a glass of wine from R, hold it with two hands and my hands are going ninety to the dozen, 7:30 seated at the wonderful Regent Theatre for quite a good show. 

Cameron Daddo played Captain Von Trapp and I found him disappointing. The children were excellent. I've forgotten her title and I don't know her name, but the head of the abbey stole the show. She is a brilliant singer. The person who played Maria was ok. I must say, how many great songs were in Sound of Music, and a little brag that we visited Salzburg and received a commentary about the movie a few years ago.

I have been replying to comments using the note book, what has a battery so failed that it will not work without being plugged in, and swyping on tablet. So tedious, so see you in few days.


Friday, June 24, 2016

Brexit

The most astonishing thing about Brexit for me is that the northern former coal mining town in England where R hails from voted 'Stay'. R was surprised too. I looked at an map of the electorate, and I can see why. It is all about wealth, electoral boundaries and demographics.

I usually have an opinion on everything. I listen to the arguments and nod in an approving manner to both sides, as there are always convincing reasons put forward. In the case of Brexit, I was really sitting on the fence, not deciding one way or the other. What I did know is that Britain would not collapse long term because of Brexit. It is a very rich country and could certainly be self sufficient without the EU.

The voting results were fascinating as they arrived. Fen tweeted an interesting graph of the age breakdown of voting. Summed up, old people voted to leave, young people voted to stay. Old people have bitter experiences of what was essentially a vote on the free movement of Europeans coming and going into the UK and receiving benefits of being UK resident. My mantra is, once they are in your country, they deserve all rights. Whether they should be in your country, is another matter entirely, and that was more what it was about.

I do have a firm opinion on one thing, the stay campaign, the Tories in England and the EU in Brussels have only themselves to blame. They did not listen to the discontent of the people faced with increasing crowding and overloaded systems and took no significant action.  Ye shall reap what ye shall sow. Still without an opinion of whether to leave or stay, I can certainly see why leave won.

I instinctively go against what rich bastards and Tory conservatives want, but in this case, it was not so clear cut. Never mind. It is democracy and no one has come up with a better system.

Kingswood Country

It is generally a friendly rivalry between Victoria where Australian Rules Football is played, and New South Wales where Rugby League is the preferred football ball game. Each code has worked hard and spent lots at getting their form of football known in other state. The world football game, soccer as it called here and in North America, also has an increasing presence in both states.

This is the final clip I will publish from Kingswood county. Ted is viewing an AFL match with some ignorance, in the company of his son in law, Bruno (The Wog).


Thursday, June 23, 2016

LED advances

This table lamp sits on a table beside the sofa. Young children just love running their hands through the heavy strands. It was too bright with two frosted fifty watt bulbs of an unusual type. We replaced them with 25 watt bulbs but it was still too bright and annoyingly glaring at you in the corner of your eye. We took two Cling Wrap cylinders, cut lengthway about a third of them away, covered them in silver foil and put them around the glaring bulbs and they have served the purpose for a number of years.



I dispatched R to the lighting shop for new bulbs. They are not cheap; close to $5 each. The sales staff pointed out a new type of bulb, an LED bulb, that will fit the same socket. They will last for a decade, R was told.  R thought we should try them and so bought two. He began to hand over a $10 note to pay, but the cost was over $40 for the two bulbs. He hesitated, then decided at over $20 each, they would probably see him out, and maybe me too, so he bought them.


They are exactly the right strength for the lamp and we are able to do away with our home made cure of foil covered cardboard tubes. Brilliant.



Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Checking things out and an outrage

From the train I viewed an old building, which I assumed was a backpacker hotel. The very knowledgeable Hels corrected me, saying it was quite a nice hotel and indeed it is from what I saw.

No, this is not it. This is just a gratuitous photo of a nearby building. Nice, hey. Could we divide buildings by date by whether they had lifts or not? I think this one would have had a lift when it was built.




This is it, Rendezvous Hotel in Flinders Street.


Looks nice enough.


I swanned around with the confidence of a hotel guest.




OMG, this is a total surprise to me. I have been there before, down in the basement. Marie in London does terrific and no doubt very time consuming research when she writes her blog posts. She shames me and I should do more research about places I see or visit. I just googled Rendevous Hotel and I am gobsmacked.

Rendezvous Hotel used be called the Commercial Travellers Club, a place where politicians and VIPs once stayed. As I said, OMG, in the 90s that was where the gay venue The Commerce Club was, downstairs in the basement. Within was the nightclub Tasty.

When Dictator Premier Kennett was elected in the early 1990s, the police thought they could do anything and get away with it, and they often did. While I had been at the Commerce Club a couple of times, I was not there on the night of the Tasty Raid, Tasty being a name for the nightclub which came about for no good reason that I know of. Police raided the club, strip searching patrons in front of other patrons, humiliating them and generally behaving disgracefully. Patrons were eventually compensated for the disgraceful behaviour of the Victorian Police, something like about $10,000 each, quite a sum back in the 90s. I recall a female workmate who was there on the night received that sum. Drifting off topic, I am starting to forget people and the names of people from 25 to 30 years ago. I remember she and I used to banter each other with me singing the praises of the male body and she singing the praises of the female body. We both wore Doc Martins, mine black, hers purple. So long ago.

I feel myself getting angry at the memory of the Tasty Raid. Not too long after a policewoman asked me directions. Yes, that is right, police asked me for directions. The attractive young policewoman thanked me. You know the times when later you think of the perfect thing to say? We are often wise after the event and know what we should have said, but for once in my life, the words came to mouth immediately and I am quite proud of myself. I said something like, no problem, I can be nice in spite of Tasty. Her eyes rolled upwards, her head tilted upward and a grimace came to her face. 

Well, who would have thought that this would have come from seeing from a train what looked like a backpacker hotel.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Oh no, an attack by the Apex Gang

Gladys Kravitz strikes again.


In Melbourne there is a loose association of teens born of very black immigrants from Africa, from awful war torn places such as Ethiopia and Somalia. But the children of the immigrants have not known the terrors of living in such places. They have grown up in the 'comfort' of western society. As has happened in the past with immigration, the children of immigrants have become a problem. What is different now is that these youth are attacking middle class white people, with car hijackings, robbery and assault, home invasions with violence and theft of very expensive cars. They are known as the Apex Gang, although essentially it is an online form of a gang. Thanks internet. The white middle class in the leafy suburbs are living in terror of an attack, especially as the gang has a predilection for stealing by force Audi and BMW cars. (Umm, can anyone see a problem here? While some people in Australia can't afford a 1979 Datsun Bluebird, our streets are littered with black Audis, BMWs and Mercedes SUVs)

My opinion is that we brought in too many from these African countries in a short period with insufficient support. It was bound to go wrong, but capitalist governments do like cheap labour and to break down working conditions with a high rate of immigration.

R said I really need to get a life, but early this morning when monitoring the world from my windows, I observed some black African youth in a car opposite The Highrise. Oh, black African youth. On this side of town. Must be trouble. I ran for my camera. I will be able to sell my crime photos for a fortune!

The driver remained in the car and two were outside the car. One had a take away drink container and was scooping water from the gutter and throwing it at the side of the car, roughly where the fuel tank flap would be or perhaps the rear wheel. What were they washing off? Blood? Gunpowder? A dying person's fingernail marks? Lipstick where they had slammed one of their bitches up against the side of the car? Should I cross the road once they leave and with cotton buds get some samples of what was washed away? With a hoot, the one with the drink container threw it up in the air, and then with his accomplice jumped in the car and they drove off normally up Toorak Road.

Unfortunately I was actually too slow getting the camera as I was quite fascinated to watch what they were up to. These black criminals should be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, for littering and illegal parking.


Ok, you haven't taken that too seriously, as I meant you not to, but I have had a couple of really bad experiences with black African youth, which I have never had with Aboriginal Australians, Anglo Saxon Australians, Middle Eastern, European, South American or South Asian Indians, South East Asian or Chinese immigrants. It saddens me to think like this, as I am sure there are plenty of decent children of African immigrants in our midst. So when I,  a working class person living a middle class lifestyle, a person who tries to be tolerant of differences and generally succeeds, is fearful and feels threatened, governments better take notice.

Monday, June 20, 2016

Damaged Goods

There is a tiny crease where my stomach meets my pubic area, an ever so tiny crease of course. Ever so tiny, I say. I felt some discomfort for a day and once home I checked and I suspect the lump I have is an ingrown hair. It hurts at times, but hopefully will cure itself. It is right where the band of my underpants sits, so I have decided to freeball for a couple of days, that is not wear underpants. Another phrase for not wearing underpants is 'going commando'. What might be the origins of these two of words be? Freeballing is obvious.

Well, the first thing I learnt is that the female equivalent is free-buffing. I am not sure that I understand that, but I have never pretended to female anatomy expert. After a significant amount of research, one minute, I will go with this following definition. It is as I thought. When it is hot and humid soldiers in the field can get crotch rot and also get rubbed raw. you don't want to have to much wet scanky fabric next to that part of your body. It is because soldiers sweat a lot and they cant take showers for days. It is one the best ways way to prevent crotch rot and rashes. I should know been there done that. Former soldier infantry and medic. .

Mohawk

In the mid nineties, or was it the eighties, I had a blond mohawk. So far as I know, no photos existed. It did not stick up in a feather pattern. With my ever so smart blond mohawk, we visited Sydney. I wore a kind of nothing green skinhead jacket, that was way too hot for indoors in Sydney and often too hot outdoors in mid winter too. Nevertheless, the look was ok and I picked up, although I that may be mentally rather than physically. I conveniently can't really remember.

Just recently a friend gave me some photos and much to surprise, one was among them was me with a mohawk but it was not blond. Mohawk is an extreme noun. It was actually as the modern fashion is, shaved at the sides and long and wide strip on top. The photo must have been taken late 1990s at The Laird O'Cockpen Hotel in Abbotsford. I believe The Laird is still operating. The photo fascinates me as I look at it critically and dispassionately. The first thing I see is a big nose. I think it is bigger now.

After the photo was taken, I perfected the bit of fuzz below my lower lip to look better. Then one day a very young Firefighting Niece asked why I had it? I went to the bathroom and shaved it off and went back into the lounge room and she did not notice. I never grew it back.

My father used to call me pinhead. I can see why. I have a long neck.

I can see evidence of sun damaged skin. It is worse now.

My eyebrows aren't so good, but they are darkened a little by an eyebrow pencil but not perfectly balanced.

The scar to the right of my right eyebrow is quite evident. When I was young, I ran full speed into some kind of trailer chassis.

Seems like it was a military themed night. When I bought the shirt, I thought it was the Aboriginal flag on the sleeve. Seems it is the German flag. Lordy, what does that mean? I hope it is the current flag and not the old one. My under black tee shirt is askew. Horrid.

I can see crows feet, but with my face fatter now, they are not really so worse.

It is clearly an unstaged photo and I don't remember it being taken. What (more likely who) was I looking at? I was a shocker back then. I would promise with my eyes to guys and once they were were interested, I would then become disinterested (sic). What would Freud make of that? After all, I had R to go home with, although there was the time when a gorgeous young guy came back with us.......too much information, but sadly he died not too many years after.

All in all, it is a cruel and revealing photo but at least I guess my teeth are ok. No, actually they look a bit too bucky. I am to bed now, but will check my teeth in the mirror first.

Oh, you thought I was going to attach the photo. Nah. Maybe I will post it in the future. I like the photo.


Sunday, June 19, 2016

Yarra River Walk Day 1 Pt 3

Refreshed by coffee, I continued on. In spite of the scenery being pleasant, the impact of the freeway running along the Yarra Valley was always there, with a constant noise of traffic.


Wesley College boat house.


The rowing club of Powerhouse.


Pink granite, I think.


Do you know Australia is a classless society and every servant is as good as his master? The theory might be nice, but it does not play out along the banks of the Yarra.





What is thing called, love? (punctuation can be very important. Say it with different intonations)


Maybe a flood depth gauge? No, I don't think so.


Serenity.


Yep, we are all equal in Australia.


Our authorities look after us well with their guidance lines to prevent us crashing into a gum tree. Pity about our many faded road markings and tram lane clearance road markings in our city.


Come to Australia. You could be living in a place like this with a view of the river. Oh, many are and they are not living in such smart places.



What is this all about. On the northern bank of the Yarra were factories and it was all quite industrial. Not so on the southern bank with expensive housing and mansions. A factory seems to remain.


I had come to the end of the first part of my walk and I needed to get across the river to Burnley Station to get home, but there was no bridge. I walked on. Bugger. For an unfit person, I had walked far enough.


I was slightly diverted by this cycle path diversion.


This litter trap is quite different to the others I have seen but works exactly the same way.


I would like $10 for every time I have driven through this roundabout.


Maybe this bridge at the bottom of Grange Road has a proper name but we call it 'that bridge you use when you get off the freeway because the traffic is crawling'. 


Oh look, it is called MacRobertson Bridge. The philanthropist must have funded it.


I think this is the last decorative bridge along the Yarra. The rest are functional. 


Once crossed, oh the traffic on the bridge. I think I was walking along Barkly Avenue and while there was a footpath, I was in a hideous car dominated environment.


Within this old factory is a working business, but I am not sure if the business is related to the original purpose of the factory.


I walked through the unimaginatively named Bicentenial Park to Burnley Station.


Well, I tried. Burnley has central platforms but I could not work out how to get to them. I used a subway to get under the line but there was nothing on the other side. I went back under the line and looked around and I could not work it out. I went back under once again. I wonder if this narrow walkway leads to an entrance? There aren't signs to indicate so.



It did, and down another subway I went, this time with ramps up to the platform.