$36.98 is actually $37.00 ok?.

The piper always has a price to pay. Words that many of us I am sure will be familiar with. As you work through life and enjoy moments that you look back on with such fondness it can often seem that way.
My guess is it has more to do with our own human frailties than any mythical piper, we look for misery far easier than we look for happiness.
I can almost hear you wondering what path of this wonderful life of mine you think I am walking down this afternoon, well I guess being in the apartment all day writing leaves you open to being a little retrospective and less up beat than you would normally be, I think perhaps a little sunshine on my collar would have made a world of difference, but time, money and books wait for no man and I am no exception, I am here to do a task and it will be done.
That all said, it would be a shame to behave in such a way when in reality I am overjoyed to be out here in Sydney following what can only be described as a calling to write, it has been a long time since I was able to enjoy such artistic pleasures in such a bountiful amount, usually i am snatching what time I have to reverberate just before bedtime, so having a few weeks to follow my calling is truly a Godsend and I am making the most of it. I am still in love with Sydney even though it may or may not have missed me today, I find the Australian people a delight to chat to and be around, there are also many Brits over here working in bars and the like and they too talk of the wonderful attitude the locals have towards outsiders.

I do at this very conjuncture however, have an apology to make to one Sydney wine merchant. I have to admit I am hopeless with foreign currency and i usually end up just giving the retailer notes rather than trying to work the change out, so much so that my bedside cabinet is about to drop through the wooden floor under the weight of 50 cents and one and two dollar coins. Anyway, i grabbed a bottle of wine and my usual poison a bottle of Scotch and proceeded to the checkout, she rang the till up at $36.98 and said "that's $37.00 please", now me being a Brit i looked at the numbers on the till and said without thinking for a split second,
"That's $36.98 ?"
She said nothing and I handed her two 20 dollar notes, she then gave me three dollars and five cents change, which I still hadn't twigged, until i left the shop and my Oz guide here burst into fits of laughter.
I couldn't see the joke until it was explained that the money over here is rounded up to the nearest, in other words 98 is one dollar, 93 is 90 cents, "no one ever bothers with the 2 or 3 cents", well that is unless they hail from sunny Shropshire where every penny counts!. Another fine lesson learnt and another milestone for what is becoming an eyeopening trip culture wise !
 

It's Garbage.

It's a fine dry bright sunny morning here in Sydney, in contrast to the monsoons we had yesterday, the garbage trucks here in Manly are only outnumbered by the surfers and it's set to be a fine day here in my albeit temporary paradise.
On the subject of garbage trucks (tenuous i know but bear with me) I cant remember being in any city that has more, every other vehicle is a city municipal garbage truck and I think i have worked out the reasoning behind it (no surprises there then, here it comes). You see, these trucks collect the garbage real early, now when i say early we are talking five or six in the morning, so if you have a job with those kind of hours my bet is that you will be knocking off some time around ten or eleven which would get you ideally placed for a full day on the beach with the surf board. So its logical to assume therefore is it not that, not only is the head of Sydney Municipals a keen surfer but he is also looking after the lads as it were by employing five times more garbage trucks than actually needed so that his surfing buddies all get to follow their dream of "The Big One" (wave that is) while still holding down a respectable job.
Now, me being a more than your average sized pale skinned Brit male with a penchant for steak and cheesecake, not all on the same plate of course, (unless its happy hour) I can now relax and feel a little smug knowing that all those God like figures out there with bronzed tans and six packs are all actually garbage men.
All of a sudden I hear wails of "so what is wrong with garbage men?" from every distant corner of the globe, (ok, a couple of you might get offended) well actually nothing, I have many friends in Blighty that collect the bins and are well paid and enjoy their work, but that is not the point here, I am looking for a chink in the armour of these super fit, six pack wearing sport crazy individuals who tackle waves higher than i would feel safe climbing a ladder to and if all i can find on them is they are all garbage collectors then I am going to take it, just like they do the bins, ooohh wit this early, I must take a lie down.
 Joking aside and believe me they barely scraped jokes this morning I am astonished at how many litter collections we get here, it seems a truck is outside my apartment every morning and for me to notice it then it is definitely strange as I am hopeless when it comes to routines, I am sure they have their reasons, perhaps someone will now enlighten me (awaits knock on door from 30 angry bronzed bin men imminently)









 

When in Rome :-)

Lesson number one when in a new Country is to always look around and see what the locals are up to. Now, me being me I can preach a good story but I can seldom abide by one. In any case, this morning I was busy tidying up the apartment I am in over here in Manly Sydney when I happened to get chance to look out through the main window, it confirmed what I was already thinking and that was how quiet everything was, look I know it was a Sunday morning but hey this was almost "Ghost Town" like.
So, me being an alien in Oz i decided it would be a great idea to head for the town centre and maybe read the Sunday rag at a table with a nice caramel latte for companionship, you know the stuff of advertising executives dreams, guy sitting there waving at all the locals and ordering his favourite brand etc etc.
So with that thought firmly in my mind, i grabbed my trainers a pair of black jeans and me being English my "Weathertite" lightweight coat. I was so cocky i even whistled "Easy like a Sunday Morning" by the Commodores while i walked with a lively spring in my step towards the ubiquitous cafe with table outside, oh did i mention the newspaper seller on hand with his cart and the catching ability of Ian Botham for the 2 dollars i throw his way as payment as i keep walking?, oh perhaps later then, anyway I digress, there I was walking along with not a care in the world, not a soul about, no-one under my feet just a chilled guy on a mission to fulfil his wishes of a coffee while reading his favourite paper while watching the world go by..
Except.. this is Sydney, well Manly, but its close. It had also escaped my attention that today was the second day of winter.
What transpired was as bloody as any massacre known to man, a slap in the face of such mammoth proportions as to be unimaginable, a desecration of the holiest of grounds, the leveling of entire cities and all its inhabitants dry frozen and shrink wrapped for later consumption by aliens from Jupiter. OK, so maybe i am laying it on a little thick here, but the reality is it rained. I know, its no big deal but this wasn't just a summer squall. This was rain like we Brits don't get to see, this was like Zeus getting really pissed with how the Thames was looking so deciding to do a little re-routing, via the Atlantic. It rained so hard I couldn't see my hand in front of me at one point, visibility was OK but the rain drops were hitting my eyes so hard I couldn't see where i was going, I found out in less than 5 minutes walk from my apartment why there was no-one on the streets, they knew.. they all knew. I also knew they were laughing, I didn't see anyone I just knew it, in their cars, at their windows, in the hotels, that smug laugh, the "hahahaha there is always one" type of laugh and today it was aimed at me. I deserved it. In seconds i was drenched and by the time i got to my cafe the table and chair had floated into the Pacific just behind the paper boy and he hadn't even had chance to catch my 2 dollars let alone wave a cheery wave for the camera, my image of a "cool" Sunday morning was forever shattered behind the hotel windows and the steering wheels of locals all queueing up in the dry to get their paper from the local newsagent as i cowered under a shop pelmet on the front frozen and waiting for the 4 hour storm to blow over.
So, for tomorrow I shall be glancing out of the window and watching intently as to the local attire, if it is shorts and t shirt I will be joining them but if it is quiet and no-one is moving I shall grab "The Times" crossword and sit smugly as i lay in wait for the next Englishman in Sydney who hasn't kept an eye on the locals and their attire to pass by.....

 

Despicable You.

Aside such pride before the fall
That you'd be caught or not at all
That vanity should thine embrace
And rescue such a pretty face

Hard done by you such consequence
Your own defeat that made no sense
For stood I firm and watched you fall
I heard but thus ignored your call

For time and trouble seek my blood
In battles born your neighbourhood
That I would stand and light your way
Was not in doubt, you made me pay.

Unleash your bile and trash my soul
Speak ill of I that made you whole
Of love such crime I plead my guilt
Unlike your vanity won't wilt.

Creative I.

I have just finished another 5 pages of a new novel I am writing, shameless publicity I know, but hey it pays the bills, so you would think that the last thing I would be doing is picking up my faithful lap top and writing again. Well, you would be wrong, obviously because here I am. The truth is with a creative mind comes creative pressure, it's not like some guilt trip that continually tells you to work, its different to that, it's not about being a workaholic either, having a creative mind means you open yourself to all that you see, it can be very hard for someone to grasp that you are constantly bombarded with thoughts every second of the day, anything from how a building was constructed to how a plane stays in the air, my mind is constantly working and analysing what people are thinking, how they are reacting, what they say and why do they say it, how i feel, it goes on and on, its like a whirlwind that never stops.
If I am being honest, I wish a lot of the time that I was more normal so to speak, I find concentrating on things for a longer period very difficult, my mind wonders and wants to jump ship to the next thing and the next thing, all the time searching like some hungry wolf pack that never eats its fill.  A very good friend of mine summed me up perfectly, she said you have a "butterfly" brain, it continually flits from plant to plant seeking that one true place that it belongs to yet in reality we all know that will never happen, it's not coded to land and stay, its cursed to forever be in flight.
Am I cursed? hardly. But the reality is I have had to learn to live with it and try and control how life is to be viewed, its a huge ask because the more i analyse situations the more active my thoughts, people often confuse it with Bi-polar syndrome but I would dream of having just two personalities to deal with, Schizophrenia? well, maybe but I have no destructive traits and if anything I get hurt more because I wear my heart on my sleeve, that is what happens when you open yourself up to the world, you make yourself vulnerable and people see that as a weakness.
 The very fact I can talk or write about what makes me tick brings me a lot further forward than I have ever been in dealing with who I am and where I want to be in life, the biggest issue is getting over the denial that there is a problem in the first place, something I used to just try and laugh off, then sink into a pit of self pity because I thought i was misunderstood.
Once you accept that you are different and that your over active brain can be helped and controlled and all its energy pointed in a direction that will not only stimulate it but sometimes even exhaust it,  life just rewards you again and again, don't get me wrong, it's not an easy task but by keeping myself busy with new projects and new scenery and a constant huge writing work load I can shed all that excess energy that would otherwise be so destructive. You can say I am crazy, after all its a fine line between insanity and genius but I have learnt to appreciate the gift I have rather than fight it and deny it, yes I am different and yes it sometimes leaves me stood out from the crowd (and not always for the better) but I am me and I cant help who I am anymore than anyone else can, it's like any illness or affliction it is what you make of it. For once at this moment in time I am happy that the real person gets a chance to explain where some of my boundless energy and constant huge workload originates from, or at least why it's there. Maybe it will also explain some of the stupid things I do, but then again, who am I to make excuses, we all do stupid things sometimes.

Astronauts and Pioneers.

Sat at Glorias coffee house on Manly Wharf Sydney this afternoon I had a little chuckle to myself while listening to a couple of very senior citizens who were so obviously local to the area too, one from Manly and the other I am sure said he was from the Blue Mountain region. I know it is awfully rude to eavesdrop but to be fair if i had been sat on the ferry itself I would have most probably been able to hear them, I think the batteries were running a little low on the deaf aids, if worn at all!.
It began quite innocently enough when he requested the whereabouts of the toilets for his good lady wife, the one woman sat at the table opposite said "No worries I will take you love I am going myself" and off they trotted, I thought to myself how nice, then the old man who i soon learned was 83 years old, (he kept repeating it) sat at the table opposite with the other older lady while they waited for them to return.
No sooner had he sat down than he launched into where he was from and what his son did for a living (he is a vet by the way, covers a huge area around the Blue Mountains you know)  he then went on to say when he moved to the Blue mountains it was a cardboard city, not that he minded, he loves the outdoors apparently. He was also very preturbed that 40 years ago he could park anywhere in the street and not worry but now he struggles to find a parking space, there's progress for you eh?.
"Australia is the best Country on earth, I have been to Florida to live and work and I have been all over the place but there is nowhere like Australia, trouble is so many other people think the bleeding same now" he piped up, now just remember he was in the midst of the Manly ferry terminal on the very day of a food and wine festival which was aimed at, yes you've guessed it .. tourists who were about 8 deep on both sides of us...
He then compared his age at one point to Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong, who i had gathered from the conversation had recently died, (Neil that is),
 "Only a few months ago you know, he was the same age as me!"  i could not help but smile as he spoke with such conviction like they were the best of buddies, yet his main worry was that so many people were coming to Australia to live that it would soon be overcrowded.  I was dying to introduce myself as one of 60 million Brits from an island a tenth of the size but I have to admit I was simply enjoying listening to the old timer, the two older women returned from their little toilet break and they all proceeded to catch up with each other and talk about astronauts and old times, an amazing range of subjects considering the venue, but just before they parted company I was treated to an old song which I am sure all of Australia will know but me?.. well I just had to sit and listen and try to look inconspicuous as they sang away, I remember it ended with something like "I am just an old char girl" or something or other, simply because they were on top form for the last verse.
God bless the older population I say, but if the biggest worry for the old man in the Coffee shop is Australia becoming overcrowded it will be because people like him charm visitors from the other side of the world like me and his nightmare may become a reality, but i think his fears are unfounded if my own wonderfully diverse Country is anything to go by.

As I mentioned earlier in the above piece, Manly has a Food and Drink festival today, it was full of stalls and live bands which played great music while all the hotels and shops benefited from the huge amount of extra people in attendance, I have to say Australia knows how to party and something else I have noticed since I have arrived on these shores, people know how to smile, they aren't nearly as up tight about every little detail as we Brits, even though the roads were closed and the festival sprawled all over town there were very few officials walking round with their main aim being to ruin somebody's day, it was very much a live and let live event and the key was having fun not just another excuse for the health and safety gestapo culture we live in spoiling what should be a time to dance, a time to sing and a time for fun, well done Australia don't ever let that ability to enjoy such a day without restrictions slip through your fingers ! .

One thing I have to admit really does annoy me here in Manly (and you have probably gathered it isn't much!) is the constant attention of our friends from the skies in the shape of seagulls. If you dare to sit on a seat outside of the Wharf complex you can rest assured you will soon have all the company you could ever want, albeit the winged variety and plenty of them too!. It is much safer to do as the locals do if they grab a sandwich and that is to eat it inside, I wondered if Alfred Hitchcock had ever visited at some point while trying to tuck in this afternoon as it would be very easy to see where he got his inspiration for The Bird's. Seagulls 1 Subway sandwich 0 a result all too often replayed come the tourist season I have no doubt, you have been warned !

All that is Sydney.

Inspiration and admiration are words that the "A" list celebrity club have watered down so much as to almost allow us to lose sight of their true meaning, while being replaced by the now ubiquitous and almost mandatory "I have been on such a wonderful journey" installed in the hierarchy of our day to day psyche of "feel good" adjectives.  But to see and meet real people who you have admiration for and that can genuinely inspire you without even knowing they have done so is still something that can take your breath away, it just means the words you use to describe them seem inadequate when  the "luvvies" that prune and groom themselves in the public arena use them like some cheap confetti.
I am here in Sydney taking in all that I can from not only a different culture (and thankfully climate!) but a different attitude to that of the U.K from where I have spent most of my life. There are many tales of hardship as with every big city from the simple beggars and street bums to the somewhat uncomfortable feeling i had from seeing a fully regaled older Aboriginal gentleman pedalling and selling his glorious culture for a few dollars at the ferry terminal.
 Sydney is a truly diverse and enthralling city, it draws you in slowly at first, then piece by piece unravels itself, revealing it's soul and daring you to ignore it, it steals your heart as it let's you sample all it's wares, like a temptress that would surely have had your head on a plate just a few centuries ago, you ignore Sydney at your peril and most definitely at your loss. I can think of few cities i have travelled to in the world that make you feel at ease and as one with so quickly, true it has it's drawbacks and the tourist industry (of which the majority would be of Asian origin) is very well catered for, but if you scratch the surface of this wonderful city and go off the beaten tourist track it reveals a beating heart that inspires and leaves you so full of admiration it would fair rival the prodigal son's homecoming.  Sydney wants to pull you in and wants you to take part, the Australian people know what it is to smile and enjoy the fayre that life in this part of the world have to offer, it's a truly amazing place to visit and as an Englishman abroad I have been wooed by the temptress that is Sydney and keeping my head is going to be a very difficult task !.
 

A quiet day In Manly

I was sitting in the middle of Manly (Sydney) today lapping up the kind of sunshine that I as a Brit would barely dream about in the midst of our own summer, as I am reminded this is supposed to be Winter time here, when i was asked politely by a very smartly dressed man in his early twenties if i was "having a good day?".
I looked across at him somewhat startled as to be honest it's not an everyday happening in Blighty and I wasn't quite sure how to respond, so I just said "errr yeah great thanks I am fine" hoping that he would then go away.
Not so. He immediately stated the obvious, "you a Brit?" and before you know it we were engaged in what was for me a little bit of an uneasy conversation.  Adam, for that was the young man's name was a missionary, he was working in NSW for the next 2 years and he had been in Manly for 8 weeks, he belonged to the Mormons who I have to admit I have heard of but I am not the most religious of types so I wasn't and still aren't that au fait with their way of doing things.
Anyway, I have to be honest, the lad was very polite and he asked me many questions, some of which I was happy to answer and some i skirted around, but the little so and so pitched a question to me that I couldn't and still can't answer, "what do you trust in?".
 Now, I am wordly wise, I can look after myself, not brilliantly but i can get by, but that question had me stumped, I couldn't answer him because I cannot trust in God as this young man so obviously did because well, I am a little sceptical about religion and the existence of someone on a higher level, so I just said "I trust in myself" but not for a second did i believe that. At this point an Australian guy up from Melbourne butted in and said, "well to be honest I have done all the Harri Krishna stuff and chanting and Methodist and Catholic, I have tried them all and they are all alike, I don't know who i would trust"
This comment was obviously heaven sent for my missionary friend, he began his sermon about his faith in God and suddenly pulled a Rubic's cube from out of his pocket,
"You know what this is?"
Believe me the temptation to say 'no' was so overwhelming but I played along like a good C of E lad ought to and tried not be rude, "oh that's a Rubiks Cube"
A smile lit his face up bless him.
"That's right sir, it's like my life, sometimes it's all out of place and I can't see where I am going or what I am doing but when you work at it and concentrate you can get all the colours to match and your life is back on track" (I hadn't the heart to tell him that my Rubik's cube from Xmas 1979 was residing in the attic at home still in total disarray from my attempts to put it back to its former glory where it had sat since the same day i had it as a present) but to my surprise he just flicked it through a few moves and hey presto the cube was complete, I refrained from applause as i didn't want to show my complete ignorance of the task he had just performed and said a muted "oh yes.. well done", while secretly thinking he was a bloody smart Alec.
It was at this very point with these two guys talking to me i had to admit i looked around to see if there was a hidden camera somewhere, but fortunately not, these two guys were for real and we all chatted quite happily if a little uncomfortably for me the Brit, about the meaning of life, I just wish John Cleese had been there..

So, just when I was all comfortable with what they were saying and talking about I suddenly realised that young fellow me lad had switched to his hymn sheet, in other words he was now in full flow about what God did for him and what visions he had and how his life was devoted to one religion etc etc..and again how his Rubik's Cube mirrored his life at times. I have to say at this point I mentioned how wonderful it was that he had found his calling and that as a lightweight Protestant I was not entirely sure that God was actually anywhere other than in our minds, much like any other craze or fad we may decide to follow and that I wouldn't be the man to try and convert, with that I rose to my feet along with my new found Oz friend who accepted a card off the youngster and went on his way, I shook the young man's hand but I was not offered a card... obviously he see's me as a forlorn hope and not worth wasting a very nice card on, that was probably a good call on his behalf !.








 

The Sunday Roast

Life is somewhat of a blur at the moment, I have many things to accomplish over the next 24 hours before my imminent departure to Sydney Aus. I have done the European trek many times so am well used to flying but not used to the long haul, so I may be out of sorts for a day or two. In order for me to gain purchase and defeat the book I am writing I need some away time, the hustle and bustle of business life in the UK plays a very negative part in the realms of creativity, so much so the project was in danger of stalling and even dying, something that i clearly couldn't allow to happen,  as my passion is writing and I intend to push hard to get my voice heard. I have many good friends who have pushed me thus far, as i have very little self worth, I come from a family that would only use the word "love" to address something akin to a pint of beer or a beefburger.
It is difficult to stand out from the crowd and write. You have to be open to criticism and knock backs and be able to support your addiction financially if you wish to make something of it, unless of course you have a tale of wizards, in which case skip the work house and move directly to Park Lane and collect £200 million as you do!.  My sights are not set that high as that is a phenomenon the likes of which we rarely see, but i would be lying if i didn't admit to having high hopes for my passionately written novel that depicts a life and times we are all too easily forgetting despite the fact it only spans the last two generations.
I wonder sometimes how i came to be writing, after all I am not an archetypal writer if there is such a thing, my extensive machinery and vehicle knowledge combined with a driving ability that covers every vehicle that has an engine and goes forwards and backwards known to man is hardly the background to a budding J K Rowling, but I am slowly coming to terms with it as are some of my more regular customers at work. I love the opportunity to stand and chat about writing but will rarely do the same about vehicles, so my heart has already been lost to literature in it's purest form, but there is not a day goes by where upon i am not wrenched from such wonderful descriptive enigmatic written accomplishments to go 'stick' my head under a truck bonnet and express an experienced opinion as to it's maladies, it's no wonder I am somewhat dazed and confused.
 Am I unhappy in  my skin therefore?, well actually yes I am and it surely cannot be a big surprise to learn that that is the case, in fact if the most menial written task was to land on my doorstep I would be feeding my passion in a heartbeat such is my hunger and determination to flourish and display the fruits writing alone can give it's creator.
So, for a while it is I and my laptop in Oz in a feeding frenzy for the written word, i can create, kill, love,laugh or even cry with characters that are under my control and beneficiary. It surely could never get better than that, apart obviously from great reviews and maybe even a pay cheque for my endeavours !

I had a busy day Saturday taking two of my friends to the church in order that they may marry, I put on my best bib and tucker and indeed enjoyed the experience, they truly made a wonderful couple. I do have to admit however to raising an eyebrow at the parting shot of the vicar, as obviously the participants had already been made over £500.00 lighter for the hire of the premises etc, when he declared that the roof was in need of some TLC and the church was trying to raise £70,000 to get it done and could we look favourably at the begging plate, sorry collection plate at the back of the church. I have to be honest I thought it was a bit damned cheeky to ask such a question on a bride's wonderful day but in these austere times i guess every shilling counts, whether it be unashamedly begged for while the church is full or donated from the Central Church funds or more likely Lottery money.

Mary and Robert on their happy day this Saturday.

As we get older it becomes more difficult to define happiness, in fact it is easily confused with contentment if one is not too careful. The word contentment is the stuff of my nightmares, I could not dare to be content for that would mean journey's end, the Golden Fleece, the elusive Unicorn, I would be left empty and dreamless and as such surely become a leviathan of my very own making, unless of course I actually do stumble upon that one thing that pulls my reigns and drops the anchor of the good ship DJ forever, as such utter contentment is easier to seek than it is to find, though the road is full of heartbreak I still hope and pray that it still waits for me.
 I must leave you and organise my jobs and staff for this elongated amount of time I am away and praise them for all that they bring to me in work and comradeship, my staff are very important to me and as such must be nurtured and complimented in order that they do not forget their worth to us as a company, in short i am telling them that their contribution is immeasurable and i love what they do. What a pity i could not of heard that "L" word more often as a child, I may have already found my complete contentment but an unable to recognise it because I don't know what to look for.. now that would be sad.

Have a great week, I know I will though it will be definitely busy and different !

You see... I can look smart when it is required... though it is rarely for too long !













 

The Noose.

Empty gallows lifeless hunt
Reaping bounty sought from misery
Harshest wind blows ice grey sky
Silence broken but momentary
Footsteps heard like distant choir
Ascending volume through the gale
As noose swings, smugly, nonchantly,
Knowingly, without heart or pause,
For all that it represents
The time is here right now,
As noose is lowered to soft neck
Itchy on it's victims flesh,
The last feeling the last sensation,
The floor drops, the noose bites,
Holds tight, tighter, tighter,
Then stops, It's killing done
Silent unforgiving, soulless, yet still smug,
It's grip released by a single knife's cut.
Not so smug, buried with it's prey
Again the gallows lifeless hunt begins,
A smug, ruthless rope swings once more..