Fradam

The month of June has been filled with much matrimony it would seem. At the start of the month, a group of us road-tripped to Victoria, to celebrate Graham and Kristina’s wedding (yes, the one that happened back in January). Now, anyone that knows me, knows that Victoria (well, Melbourne specifically) do not rank highly on my “great places to be” list. Shocking, I know. Yet, I viewed this trip with much interest and excitement.

The Gippsland Lakes, where the reception was held, was definitely an experience. Whilst there wasn’t broad sunny weather as one often hopes for when on the water, there was a lovely atmosphere; a very peaceful easy feeling, that made the celebration quite calming.

There were a few simple speeches, all echoing the sentiments of love and adoration that were held by the couple (see right - I think this was the official guy)

We watched a DVD of some of the memories from the wedding ceremony itself. Some highly poignant moments.. some to laugh at. The best man, Roberto, had some writing scrawled on his hand, intended to be read by Graham when he reached for the ring. The words “Don’t do it!”.

Images from the couple’s childhood were strewn together to some emotive music… I found that powerful, watching these two individuals growing up, halfway around the world, and yet, so so so many small possibilities conspired together, to bring them together.

Leaving Victoria, I had two things on my mind: Black and Gold, and just what the future might bring.

So, later in the month, wedding bells would again draw me interstate, this time to Queensland, for the wedding of Kylie and Luke. Gorgeous couple (thanks to Kim for the pic!). The ceremony was held far far away from the loud noises, and in the midst of a rainforest, in these beautiful gardens. It brought back good memories of Megan and Josh’s ceremony in the Chinese Gardens in Sydney. I was awed simply by the serenity to be beheld in these environs.. truly impressive.

The actual ceremony was breathtaking. The bridal party, entering the scene so stately, so beautiful. The kids were dressed so adorably.. I think it’s impossible to look at them and think otherwise. There were some stirring orations during the service. The father of the bride, began by speaking about the beauty of young love, and what an amazing thing to witness it was, two young people wholly and utterly in love with each other. He finished on the only thing that could be seen to be greater than young love: old love, the image of two older people, reflecting upon their life together, a life full of love. The father of the groom led an incredible prayer, touching upon many things that are a part of married life that they ought to be grateful for - including Monday mornings, and tomatoes. Yes, that was the single most memorable aspect for many people at the end of the prayer.

The couple wrote their own vows… I wish I had recorded it all, but only got the tail end.. silly, not thinking ahead, too overwhelmed by the sheer joy of the moment. The rest of the day feels like a blur in retrospect. I had an awesome time, and experienced any number of amazing things - including seeing a 25 kilogram chocalata cake! Yes, its true. Guess what my next birthday cake will be… hehe. So many cameras, going off at the same time. Ashlee even caught me with my mouth not totally open:

… apparently, Ky wanted me to close my mouth for the photo. Dumdedummm.. haha.

Sigh. It’s hard to describe all the different emotions that the day inspired in me.. but overall, I came away feeling happy.. so very happy - both for Kylie and Luke, and just in general about life. I can’t wait till the day till I’m walking down an aisle somewhere

For the past few days, I’ve had this song stuck in my head. I’ve been trying to work out why. Something about the beat, something about the chorus line… it just drew me in. Hypnotic.

now i’m looking for a reason why
you even set my world into motion

OK, so the proverbial ‘what is the meaning of life’ question is there, but even that.. I’m not sure is what really pulls me into this song. Everyone goes through stages of questioning their own existence/purpose; so it’d be a little too cheesy for it simply to be that.

It occurs to me that the song only really got stuck in my head on the drive home from Victoria. An awesome road trip it was, and I have many a fond memory of my time there writ in my mind. The weekend was in a somewhat quieter part of Vic; one not crowded by vast quantities of man-made light. Something that really struck me on the first night was that the night is actually.. quite dark.

Dark and beautiful.

I’ve not seen so many stars in my life, and was a sight I wish I was able to capture. I’m almost ashamed to acknowledge just how much of a city slicker I am, having always had my view of the night sky so dominated by unnatural hues. This was different however, the conception of the infinite did not stray far from my thoughts, as for the first time, I could feel the reaches of the universe going far beyond my comprehension. The sky was a lot bigger of a place than I had imagined, and not all the Isaac Asimov books in the world could reveal that truth any better than my eyes had just conveyed. There were just so many stars up there… I’m almost overwhelmed contemplating what could lie beyond them, how they got there, what systems orbit them… I suddenly have a newfound appreciation for star gazing, so surreal an experience this was.

So it was after this whole visual epiphany began to settle inside my psyche (and it gaining a few minutes of airplay on one of the 3 stations till Canberra), did Black and Gold end up in my head. I suspect the probing nature of the lyrics are actually what appeal the most. It’s hauntingly acute in its perception, touching on a pondersome thought:

’cause if you’re not really here
then the stars don’t even matter

All those stars, that vast endless reaching sky… What is the point of this whole world if God ain’t in it?

i looked up into the grey sky
and see a thousand eyes staring back
and all around these golden beacons
i see nothing but black

i feel a way of something beyond them
i don’t see what i can feel
if vision is the only validation
then most of my life isn’t real

The chorus line keeps repeating “black and gold”, constantly challenging that the stars can’t be just lights (gold) in the sky (black). Is there something beyond the stars? You betcha. It’s no wonder the song got stuck in my head..

… and still alive.

It is odd to consider that it was 5 years ago to the day that life changed forever.

I said goodbye to my old home, said goodbye to my brother, said goodbye to my mother - and said hello to growing up. I sometimes wonder what life would have been like if things had not changed, if we’d all been able to stay together… then shake my head and realise there is no point to wondering such things. I’m happy now, and had the chain of events of that many years not begun, I may not be where I am now.

Still, there is some sense of wistfulness at the whole matter.

What if, what if, what if…

I’ve earmarked for the future, to visit my old home and to see what has become of it. So much of it was the product of my dad’s creativity - the landscaping, decking, the odd arrangement of the home, the structures for the basketball ring, the synthetic grass, the toolshed, the mango groves, the plantations.. and so much more. What would another family do with all of this? Continue it, or replace it? I wonder..

Oh well, if anyone is interested in a visit, let me know

.. and what have you done? Hang on, wrong song. Similar idea though, given that yesterday I was queried regarding the origins of Easter, and my thoughts on it. Some people find it odd that I do not see it as the time to celebrate Christ’s death and resurrection - similar to the reaction to my feelings on the origins of Christmas - especially as I make no secret of being a Christian.
Let’s start with the etymology, as that might lead to more answers - turning to the all powerful centre of knowledge, Wikipedia.

The modern English term Easter developed from the Old English word Eastre, which itself developed prior to 899. The name refers to the goddess Eostre, who was celebrated at the Spring equinox, and has cognates in Old High German ōstarūn, plural, “Easter” (modern German language Ostern). The Old English term Eastre ultimately derives from ēast - meaning the direction of east. This suggests it originally referred to a goddess associated with dawn. Corresponding traditions occur with the Roman goddess Aurora and the Greek goddess Eos.

So, Easter as a word, has it’s origins in a West Germanic goddess known as Eostre - not too dissimilar in concept to Roman and Greek contemporaries.

What about Easter itself as a festival, or a time of celebration? Well, the way Easter is calculated is based upon the vernal/spring equinox - a day upon which the day and night time hours are approximately equal. Unsurprisingly, this mystic equality led to much revelry amongst other religions at the time - the Wicca for example would partake in a Sabbat about that time. The Christianising of Europe was a process of merging these kinds of festivals so that integration was an easier process. So from a timeline point of view - well, it is coincidental that it marries up well with other festivals of the time - not dissimilar to Christmas.

What about the actual religious / spiritual significance? Much like Christmas, the word Easter is missing from the Bible (you probably would realise this based upon the etymology above), but the idea of acknowledging the death of Christ and celebrating the resurrection? That idea surely isn’t that bad, and actually would be spiritually ‘healthy’, to be reminded of what he died for and such. Well, I agree - which is why I partake in that each week already!

Having said all that, much like Christmas, I do appreciate what Easter provides us now - a time to spend with family (due to public holidays!), the chance to engage in over-commercialisation of chocalata (which we all know is the -real- significance of Easter), and those bread.. things.. with little crosses on them…!

So go on .. have one!

No really, who does? That was the whole idea of the Holy Grail, featured in many quality films such as Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade; the pursuit of an alleged fountain of youth - which Indy drank, and leaves me very curious for how young he will be in the latest film. Ofcourse, outside of film, the yearning for such things is well documented in the annals of many cultures… but I often wonder: why?

It’s a scary notion when you account for all your loved ones passing away whilst you simply age… actually, that is quite sad.

Arwen explored the issue, and chose “the mortal life”…What I’d prefer is, living longer, but also, for everyone else around me to live longer too! So the question is, how do we do it? Somewhat fortunately, quality tabloid scientists invaded afternoon radio today to provide some suggestions:

• - Flossing daily can add 4 years
• - Keeping a journal can add 3 years
• - Sleeping 7 hours a day at minimum can add another year
• - A satisfying sex life can add another year (although the researcher in question thought it’d add more!)

So there are some interesting things that we could add possibly add in order to increase the length of life for nearly another decade. Now considering life expectancy here in Australia at the moment is about 78 for males, and 83 for females (ouch!), an extra 9 years could for me be the difference between 78 and 87. Alternatively, I could fall prey to dyslexia and I might not need the 9 years.

On a related note, Kellie (who’s birthday it is today - happy birfday! ) brought my attention to the story of someone else who recently celebrated a 109th birthday party. Yes, 109. How’d he get to that age? He must have had some secret right… and just like I’m trying to now, he shared it with a few people didn’t he?

Mr Ross’s eldest sister died two years ago at 99, and his two other sisters are aged 101 and 94.

Yep, he shared the secret with his closest siblings. Whatever this secret was, it must have been amazing - at 109, he was actually born in the 19th century (!)… meaning his life expectancy can’t have been the 78 we enjoy for Australian males today. In fact, according to the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, life expectancy of males born at the turn of the 20th century was 55.

Whoa.

That means he has nearly doubled his life expectancy, adding (at the moment, touch wood) 54 years on!

But what was the secret? It was right at the start…

AUSTRALIA’S last surviving World War I soldier, Jack Ross, turned 109 today surrounded by his extended family and friends at a nursing home in Victoria.

To mark the occasion, the non-drinker and non-smoker indulged in his one vice - chocolate, and lots of it.

There you have it, chocalata really is the elixir of youth Better than flossing, sleep or sex, chocolate could add a staggering 54 years onto your life - so why don’t you just go ahead and reach for some now?

So, summer has finally drawn to a close: I refused to wear more than a t-shirt yesterday as my own little element of defiance against the elements. Apparently La Nina is to blame for:

- the wettest summer in over 5 years
- the coolest summer on average in over 10 years
- the least amount of daily sunshine in over 15 years
- not a single day over 31 degrees (first time in over 50 years)

Well… and the destruction of many a roof in many parts of Sydney. On the plus side, the dams are up over 65%, which is incredible too, and we’re finally off El Nino’s back.

Somehow in the midst of all this rain, I went to 3 big concerts. Rather than come on here and gush after each concert “THIS WAS THE BEST CONCERT EVER!!”, I decided to wait till I had seen them all, and then at least I could compare between them.

So, first up was Lionel Richie - 7th December 2007 at the Sydney Entertainment Centre.

Charlotte and I got to the Entertainment Centre in time to catch half of Marcia Hines opening for him. She was incredible; I’d not heard her sing before, and I’m a big believer that judges of talent reality shows should still be able to do what they judge… she certainly did. It mostly consisted of covers, but her voice did not disappoint. She was an appropriate opening act, being a contemporary who sang in the same style and passion - acknowledged by the crowd of 7146 with much support.

There was a roar when Lionel took the stage. He’s not quite 60, but could easily pass for 30. I mean, he really did look good. Stylish, slick, and moved so well too!

His rapport with the crowd was amazing - I think he was surprised that there were this many fans here in Sydney! But he gave us all quite the show. He received an ovation after nearly every song, and welcomed it with what I’ve now discovered is a signature hand flourish (ask me to demonstrate the next time you see me). I sometimes forget just how… smooth he is. In singing Endless Love (a song traditionally done with Diana Ross.. I secretly hoped he’d bring Marcia back on for it), he serenaded the mostly female audience and had most of the crowd swooning. Afterwards, he consolidated his position with the male minority - “Guys… you know.. I’m not fighting with you guys - I’m just warming them up for you. You’re the one taking them home!”, which naturally elicited much mirth.

Of special note was a Commodores medley he performed in the middle Three Times a Lady, Easy and a few others - and as a special treat, it turned out that one of the other original Commodores was in the stadium! So Lionel got him up on stage - I think it was Ronald La Pread - and they played a few songs together. So unexpected!

Most of the songs were cast in the same style as their album counterparts - so on a pure sound level, the songs were mostly the same. Having said that, feeling his passion exude from the stage definitely made a difference in the songs - the emotion of some of the particularly stirring songs like Hello for example, was quite moving.

The concert closed with his biggest hit, All Night Long, and it was on that note did we leave the Entertainment Centre, heading to Manly for a birthday night out and proceeded to party all night long, wearing our Lionel shirts, and proudly basking in the afterglow of the experience that was Lionel.

Malesy sent this to my inbox a while back, and it really got me thinking… it’s basically a view of what people in different countries and situations eat in a week.

Italy : The Manzo family of Sicily
Food expenditure for one week: $260.11

Germany : The Melander family of Bargteheide
Food expenditure for one week: $500.07

United States : The Revis family of North Carolina
Food expenditure for one week $341.98

Mexico : The Casales family of Cuernavaca Food expenditure for one week: $189.09

Poland : The Sobczynscy family of Konstancin-Jeziorna
Food expenditure for one week: $151.27

Egypt : The Ahmed family of Cairo
Food expenditure for one week: $68.53

Ecuador : The Ayme family of Tingo
Food expenditure for one week: $31.55

Bhutan : The Namgay family of Shingkhey Village
Food expenditure for one week: $5.03

Chad : The Aboubakar family of Breidjing Camp
Food expenditure for one week: $1.23

What do you eat in a week? I suddenly feel a lot more grateful for what I have…

Wednesday morning began quietly, as most tense films begin. After an excellent Moroccan lamb (thanks Adrian) the night before, I was exceedingly keen about both lunch and a visit to the bank later that day (oh, and work ofcourse.. *cough*).
In hindsight, much like the films, the innocuous nature of a certain chain of events in the morning did not illuminate their disastrous nature until they were crystallised in an untimely demise later on.

It started with some paperwork for the bank - I have a file folder, and had the option of placing my notes inside the plastic sleeve. Decided not to, as I figured between the tight nature of the file folder and my work bag, there wasn’t much worry. Then there was transporting my lunch using my usual plastic takeway style containers. No different to normal, except I had neglected to cook any rice to go with it, so was carrying a full container of Moroccan lamb in to work. I was feeling particularly environmentally conscious, and figured it wouldn’t be neccessary to double bag the container, especially as I’d be wrapping the bag tightly around the container and wedging it in my bag against the file folder and a few other things in there.

The pieces were now in place.

Upon arrival at work, the transportation process of lunch from bag to fridge began. Icky. The inside of my bag was covered in the gravy from the Moroccan lamb. The top of the plastic had snapped, and pierced right through the tight-fitting plastic bag, allowing it to seep out whilst I was getting to work. Due to the tightly packed nature of the bag, nothing really escaped attention. The file folder in particular, was inundated with it… and somewhat more worrying were the files within which had gained some new framing. Excavating the container from the bag resulted in the bag tipping - from chair to ground, and spilling contents on the floor too.

Concluding that the microwave was destined to explode if I heated the remaining contents up later… I had a yoghurt for lunch. Tasty, healthy, and less chance of disaster.

… is the game of cricket. Or at least, that could be the future of it here in Australia.

Only those away from mass media would have missed what is one of the biggest rows in the history of the sport. Allusions have been made to the racial scandals of years gone by, or even to the controversial bodyline series. I’m not going to draw comparisons to events gone by; let’s not sully their relative purity by linking. Nor does the fate of the tour, or Singh’s ban really measure largely in the scale of the bigger picture.

Cricket, one of the true “gentleman’s game”, is now on the brink of disaster. When a man’s word on the field is questioned, when their integrity must be examined and analysed; that is when the innocence of the game has truly been lost. The 2nd test in Sydney, may well have witnessed that passing.

Symonds’ decision to simply stand his ground, with full knowledge that he was out, is a blatant slur against the code of honour in the game. If you know you’re out, you should walk. Sure, if there’s doubt or uncertainty, it is a good idea to wait for the finger to go up, but in this case, there was no thought of that. The nick was audible in the grandstands and in the commentary box - but just not to the umpire. The bad umpiring here was the difference between India winning, and a tie. Spilt milk it may be, the gall of the Australian team leadership to stand behind Symonds’ decision to stay at the crease was disappointing. Where is our oft-hailed sportsmanship, if not here? Is this not the moment where it is meant to shine? What kind of example do these cricketers set for the youth of today by their actions?

“That ain’t cricket”? - that ain’t the half of it! Young Sharma, the 19 year old Indian who went on to witness Symonds save the innings for a collapsed Australian lineup, went and shook Andrew Symonds’ hand. At the end of an innings which should never have been, he still had the right spirit about him and congratulated his opponent. How Roy could look him in the eye with any semblance of honesty was beyond me.

As for the final day… Dravid being dismissed as out; an example of the Australian team’s over-eagerness to appeal absolutely everything. Even when the bat is on the other side of the pad, quite clearly nowhere near the ball… the Aussies felt the right thing to do was pressure the umpire into making another bad decision. Full credit to the team once more, really great showmanship there. I’m left almost flabbergasted, considering Cricket Australia, the players, and the team are quite happy to sit there and say “we played in the right spirit”, when quite clearly, they were not.

The sheer irony of the Australian team to be the one complaining of copping abuse on the field is almost too much. The long tradition of sledging, very often using words and ideas deemed to be offfensive to the given competitor, is part of the mantra when one joins the slip cordon. If there’s something that bothers me more than sheer outright dishonesty, it is hypocrisy. Being a hypocrite, especially on the public stage, is just asking for trouble. Look to see Australia get bitten back hard for this.

The question is now, what to do to fix things? 31000 SMH readers (60% of all respondents) felt Ricky Pointing should be given the boot. Brendan Nelson thinks we should get off his back. I’m not sure where change need to start from, but I feel a united front from the top going down, recognising that whilst umpiring can be poor, it was not helped by the approach the team took to the game.

Perhaps starting with that, both teams will be in a position where they can sit and discuss what honour means to them.

… when you’re mad.

So, 2007 is about to end, and I’ve not touched this in sometime. Many a thing has happened, life in some ways almost seems operatic with suds on the side. Betrayals, infidelity, death, adultery, work shuffles, concerts galore, globetrotting family members… and I beat Steven in squash! (yes, it was a noteworthy enough achievement to mention). Needless to say, life was busy.
I don’t intend on doing one of those ‘year in review’ style thoughts, as am a little quiet at the moment, and am just hoping that the new year brings about a nice change… come on 08!