tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-320615942024-03-08T03:50:38.372+10:00Only a GuestIt's hard living life as a superman.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-76479480392190869092007-12-16T23:59:00.000+10:002007-12-17T00:01:30.133+10:00it doesn't even matterIt was very surgical, quick, precise and brutal.<br />Phone calls stopped.<br />Emails stopped.<br />SMS Stopped.<br />We talk, she's tired, been talking to friends, things are tense. Relationship is tense. She has to go.<br /><br />6 days later I get 30 seconds on the phone and it's over.<br />No reason, no explanation.<br />She just can't.<br /><br />And again I don't belong.<br />Love lives here, but I am only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-48392940873982230002007-12-02T23:00:00.001+10:002007-12-02T23:21:00.197+10:00Secrets and LiesWell, no lies. As much as I love the quote, it is one of my favourite Simpson moments.<br />But there have been secrets, many of them.<br /><br />And not all due to my lack of blogging.<br />Yes I did kill the blog on my own website and I'll move it back here. Which only means to continue to blog here. Not to move any of the old content.<br />It serves no purpose.<br /><br />Lately I've been spending time away from the computer. Most of that has been on the phone to her.<br />She is all consuming. Not in a resource destroying manner, in an all encompassing, enticing alluring manner. In fact until yesterday when I was digging through old photos I forgot everyone else. The past indiscretions, strings pulling on my heart were all disconnected.<br /><br />But she has been gone for days and I was filling in time, and I found photos. People, places, faces, smiles and it is all in the past.<br /><br />Not to assume happiness is absent. Her presence makes me happier than anything has in a long time, I have achievements at work, I have corrected old friendships that became absent. And I have had horrible sadness.<br /><br />As no-one knows. No-one in the world listens to or understands the troubles of being in here. The voices of reason and anger. The things I hold blame for. How do you accept something someone wants to do for you, their heart breaks by not taking it. But taking it breaks their heart.<br />There has been an ongoing cloud of darkness hanging over my ship. I'm not depressed, I am not physically ill. I have been in denial. I have ignored or struggled to come to terms with many things since I lost my family.<br />It was a difficult and complex time and I took a very long time to come to terms with these things. There were lovers, there were relationships, if only naming names was appropriate. And all of them were based on the wrong foundations.<br />I dated and then lived with someone working for me, I ran into, dug out and then chased after another blogger, I dated and spent time working on a relationship with someone who loved me more than I would ever love them. I courted my flatmates ex-wife.I spent my time filling other people's needs.<br />Each of these women needed something from me. it doesn't detract from who they are and my attraction and feelings for them were genuine. But they were more appealing to me than things should have been because it was about need. I didn't need to face to the noises inside if i was helping others.<br />A need for company, respect, to be treated like a princess, to be treated as an equal. And in the end all of them failed. Because as much as you need your partner, you also need you.<br />And as much as any of them may have made the decision to end or not even let it start. I was squarely in the middle of the decision. Actions or lack thereof have a profound impact on the responses by those around you.<br /><br />As I have advised in the past and as some people are aware. I took control of my life some 6 months ago. Properly and completely, like I hadn't done for years.<br />My writing changed, my blogging changed, my photography changed.<br /><br />I have advanced my position at work.<br />I have lost 13kg total.<br />I have gained some 15-20% more muscle mass than I had (and it hasn't gone unnoticed).<br />I write more.<br />I have devoted time to my own projects, where my heart and passion lies.<br /><br />And I decided to remain single. The decision was solely based on me. I needed time to concentrate on me, so I moved, A great distance away from everyone and everything.<br />Hours on the train each day to think and contemplate. Minutes to get to my little girl.<br /><br />And then I met her.<br />The sequence of events is mostly inconsequential.<br />I can state that I was removing my trail of logins from around the internet(as I do from time to time) and I was cancelling membership to a dating site.<br />A popup suggested I join a chat and I clicked it on a whim. Expecting a response from the web server that they wanted me to join. They didn't and I saw her.<br />Not being one to keep things online it moved off. (Side note, What the hell is the issue with people on personal sites who don't ever want to meet anyone face to face. It is a dating site, if you don't want to date people you're taking alllllll the wrong steps).<br />And we spoke.<br />And we continued to speak.<br />And then all was consuming.<br />Day, night, constantly.<br />And then she left. A trip, a holiday. Weeks of no contact, she would have no internet, no phone. We had just met, how could this be a problem.<br /><br />And then email. Brief flirtatious, direct. Confessions. Only one email. I was the thought, I was the focus. I was all consuming.<br />Time ticks on and I smile. I awake to messages, I sleep with thoughts.<br />Warm lips, soft skin, smiles. Laughter.<br /><br />I remain only a guest here. But I have been invited in.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-21226210765961869892007-11-08T23:46:00.000+10:002007-11-08T23:58:54.756+10:00Hypocrisy....The difficult decision in life is the internal one.<br />The one you often don't realise is a decision at all.<br /><br />I've decided to run wild with mine about people.<br />But I haven't reached a conclusion yet. The details are simple.<br /><br />Are people on dating sites hypocrites?<br />Or is the average persons knowledge of their own psyche and social skills that appalling that people genuinely are unable to make the connection between reality and fiction.<br /><br />The most common one that stands out is the "Honest" comment.<br />No in fact you are not. Because with-holding information is as bad as a fabrication.<br />Think back to court-room dramas on tv. "The truth, the WHOLE truth and nothing but the truth"<br />Even TV thinks you should tell the whole truth.<br /><br />Hypocrisy #2: Please, only people who can spell, I h8 th1s knd of stuff from U.<br />And then they proceed to not punctuate anything. Surely a declaration of a hatred of poor grammar and spelling should not be followed by poor grammar?<br />Oh I forgot, the standard of what is acceptable is only a mirror. You can bastardise the language as much as they do, just not any further.<br />So in response " sorry sweetheart if you want to complain about language then youd best learn how to use it before you go off half cocked and declare other people to be hard to read".<br /><br />Hypocrisy #3: Someone with a good sense of humour.<br />And every comment is responded to with "Sorry?" or " you've lost me"........<br />If you are massively incapable of relating any comment you make to either a pun or a famous movie quote then you are not looking for someone with a good sense of humour. In fact my good sense of humour means I find a huge variety of things amusing, and am happy to adapt and share.<br /><br />Ok that's it.<br />I'm off to sleep, and i KNOW the blog isn't meant to be here. My internet access is slow and limited and I couldn't be bothered fighting with google to create a new one not linked here.<br /><br />Asta Manana.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-23121990229232049412007-09-02T00:56:00.000+10:002007-09-02T01:21:38.523+10:00Comments of others.......<a href="http://suburbanhen.blogspot.com/2007/08/perhaps-some-kind-of-me-me.html">In response... <br /></a><br />1. We all think you do this. Every one of you, regardless of whether you claim to have these friends or not. Especially those of you with blogs. You're so used to "teling all" ;)<br /><br />2. This one always made me wonder.. And I've had a fair percentage of partners say "only one before"....<br />And these weren't young ladies. In fact all of the few number of partners there have been I have known. EG name, all about them and so on. No club pickups.<br /><br />3.We do this to you to. Well figuratively speaking....<br /><br />4. Do not forget the past, can't know where you're going less you know where you been. And I don't need to win every moment do I. The fact I'm here and he's not is a firm indicator it didnt work with him!<br /><br />5.Every sexual partner has shared the fantasies and what turns me on. It's a sexual relationship for a reason.<br /><br />6. Good crying? And crying after you've broken up doesn't count.<br /><br />7. Odd conversation........ but I've had discussions with partners about this...<br />I've only talked "dirty" to one partner. And in the end it was negative. I didn't want to feel that way. I didn't want to lower how I felt to something primeval.<br /><br />Now I talk openly and very sexually as the time requires.<br />It's still very adult.....<br /><br />But it's more of the "I love tracing this line from your cheek down your side, so many..........gentle.......curves" while highlighting said curves with the edge of a finger...<br />There is some more adult language used, but all in all it's tasteful.<br />Some conversations I think don't need to happen. And it's not what the moment is.... You might have a fantastic ass, it's not why I'm attracted to you though...<br /><br />8. Oh sweet jesus mary and mother of god.<br />Is there a simple answer for this? For me? Yes.<br />I decided at the age of 16 to hell with it all. I said iot when I felt like it, I called when I felt like calling. Sure a few girls along the way distanced themselves, the others loved the attention and that I showed it.<br />No game playing, "wait 3 days to call her" I got told once after a great date. I called her halfway home and setup another one ;)<br /><br />9. I have her sms :( If she leaves any voicemails I will keep those too ;)<br />I have all of the emails from my marriage.<br />It was a long period of my life and it's incredible to occasionally look back at my life. How I felt, talked, changed and grew.<br />I'm very nostalgic... and the bonus of ye olde photographic memory. Each email I read is in perfect context. I know when it came...... what I was doing......... and so on.<br /><br />10. This is NOT everyone. And I hate it. If I ask you a question it means I want your answer to it. Do not play games and test me. I am here because we both want to. If you need to test me, then we don't want to be here.<br /><br />11. You do not.<br /><br />12. Got it, all over it.<br />Nothing is a clearer sign of wanting to be around someone than asking them out somewhere and chasing after them, after they tell you to leave ;)<br /><br />13. Got it. As long as you do. Sometimes we'd love you to climb on our lap while watching tv, grab the remote and turn it off and then just look.<br /><br />14. Are you completely mental? Why the hell would I flirt with someone else to flirt with you? If we're together I am onto you like white on rice.<br />I would punch the valet guy in the chest and not talk to you for 3 days.<br />That should be the manly behaviour you're obviously looking for.<br /><br />15. Is it the rushing off to work? Or that all women love a man in a suit?<br /><br />16. You'll have my attention as soon as you want it. No need to start a fight, just let me know you want it. Being present is enough to know you want it.<br />Standing between me and the TV is also an indication.... ;)<br /><br />17. I get argued with for paying. One specific friend (only a friend, still a woman) always pays her share. When I pay before she can, she slips money in my pocket or something. And knowing her, it's about control. I would have control if I paid apparently.....<br /><br />18. Not even gonna go there... eww fantasising about my friends......<br /><br />19. We know you do.<br />Sometimes we get told.<br /><br />20. I threw a portrait today. It was 5 feet tall..... it's 11 years old and has moved house with me 9 times. The wife ignored it in the shed. I don't know why I kept it, I never looked at it.<br />She's gone now. Bye Caroline.<br /><br />That's an effective comment on a post if I've ever seen one ;)<br /><br />Nothing permanent about it though. Only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-61715992283724740622007-05-02T18:32:00.000+10:002007-05-02T18:59:47.245+10:00The Great InterviewWell 5 questions isn't exactly "great"....... But as much of an internet meme that it is. I've volunteered to be tagged by <a href="http://bofftravel.blogspot.com/2007/05/boff-interview.html">Boff</a>. And she's hit me with 5 questions.<br /><br />So without further ado........ Kal's interview...<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">1. What is the greatest fear you have for your child? What is the greatest hope?<br /></span><br />Nicely asked question. The greatest fear for my daughter is that she won't get to achieve her dreams. I live in fear of her failing to meet what she wants because people in her life don't see her potential or don't let her use it for whatever reason. She is a smart girl. Excessively smart, she converses with me in a very adult fashion. She learnt to write her own name, and has not yet started school at all, she reads signs and can understand some concepts of maths. She holds the potential to be and do anything she wants. And I'm terrified the people of the world will hold her back for some unknown reason.<br /><br />My greatest hope is that she see's the world the way I do. For her to place value on honour and morals and always strive to make others happy and to do the right thing. I hope that this torch is passed succesfully.<br /><br />Of course there's the unspoken answer. Fear for my child. Like every parent. Outliving them. There is no scarier thought as a parent.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2. If you could change yourself, what would you change and why?</span><br /><br />This could be physically or mentally. I'm gonna take the easier (or harder) route and use both.<br /><br />Physically: I'd change my ticks. Little quirky habits, Mostly the fact that I am never comfortable. I feel like I'm always sitting wrong. I suspect it's because i'm tall and it's all leg. I know it annoys people, but I'm not doing it on purpose, It's just how I am.<br /><br />Mentally: I'd like to think I'm intelligent, emotionally stable, honest and genuine. And thinking so causes me problems. It's not easy to do the right thing. Sometimes I'd like to just do the wrong thing. It seems so much easier for some people.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">3. What do you find so alluring about photography? </span><br /><br />Many things. The two things that I tell people...<br />I can capture an emotion. Take a photograph to lead you to feel a certain way. Often this will be how I was feeling when the photograph was taken.<br /><br />And a moment captured in time. You can disconnect from where you are and drop into another moment. Whether it's taking you back to a party, or a sunset. Or bringing you into a micro-cosmos underneath a leaf as you race a ladybug for food.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">4. What is one thing you’d like to do before you die?<br /><br /></span>I've already heard me being called Daddy by a little voice, so I guess it only leaves to see the Pyramids. Cliched I'm sure. But to visit something thousands of years old. A marvel of engineering and man. The things they needed to understand, the concepts, the sheer effort and work involved. These people beleived strongly in what they were doing. And to me there's something strong in that to see. There would be a certain something about them you would not get anywhere else. They are from a different world.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">5. Who is the film star that most closely reflects the girl of your dreams?<br /><br /></span>Tough question. And very hard to nail down. This would have been answered differently 5 years ago. Very differently.<br />Short list.......... Audrey Hepburn - For sheer Feminine Grace.<br />Renee Russo - Class<br /><br />But I would have to pick Kate Beckinsale.<br />She is soft and feminine, strong and upright. She holds feminine grace and a high IQ. She writes and won two major awards for short stories as a teenager. She also speaks 4 languages fluently, and we all know people who are at least bi-lingual have brains that work better (apparently the extra effort taken for them to know which language to use at any given time gives the whole brain a tune up.)<br /><br />So yes, Kate. Feminine, intelligent and I'll presume she's honest.<br /><br />Not a difficult list to match it seems............Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-8305211297996240612007-04-08T15:25:00.000+10:002007-04-09T21:04:11.008+10:00Are you home before you realise it's home?Home. I hadn't thought about it in years. Well that's wrong (new record for contradicting myself in a blog, 8 words)<br />I hadn't thought of anywhere as home in years. Every place, every shack, every town was simply further from home. We passed Murwilliumbah sometimes in our journeys and I saw it on maps. It was always home. Life with mum and David was home.<br /><br />And now life had begun to settle down. Moves from here on would be relatively small. Redcliffe to Caboolture might be a fair hike, but it's a daytrip there and back for a kid on transport. I could still see friends. (Maybe worth noting that I still live within moving distance of these people and run into someone now and then)<br /><br />So we're at the start of high school. The big move was to Deception Bay, I'm not sure why, I think an uncle was given a job out there. Odds are it was at some kind of RSl or Football club, it often was. He was that kind of cook. (not a chef I'm sure. Paul was a chef). So in some surreal and strange move we up and moved again.<br /><br />Mum thought this would be good for us, the new high school was opening up next year. So we would be amongst the first students to attend. A permanent place in history... Or something to this effect. In actuality it meant we spent the first few months of the year getting organised, waiting for the gym to be built, breaking in all sorts of things. Including the illicit locker black market.<br /><br />You see (and I hope this is no longer true) The school purchased lockers that were never intended for a broad community. You know the kind with the small silver keys that seem to be in every office. Well you see, these keys for simplicity reasons come in only a few varieties. This is so companies can easily replace them. Unfortunately...... if you are buying lockers for a school of 300 odd students. This means every person with a locker (all of us) has the same key as 15 other people. And they are numbered. So you do a painstaking, but simple visual check of every locker....... and find the ones that match your key number. As you could guess, we abandoned the lockers quickly.<br /><br />Year 8 was the first time I ever saw explosives in use. We had a police officer come out to the school and demonstrate some things for safety reasons, including why even a detonator was dangerous to play with. We had all seen movies, bombs were big. That little pencil shaped thing in his hand was of no consequence.<br /><br />He placed it in a coke can, and then into a cardboard box and walked off into the oval. It was led back to us by a cable and we waited. CLICK and we hear a muffled *BOOM* and dust flies everywhere. We were then advised to go and follow the cable and retrieve it.<br /><br />No box, no can........ So no explosives for us.<br /><br />What are other stand out moments...... During this year i had a crush on Amanda. She was beautiful and sweet and I gave her a rose and a poem on Valentine's day. She loved it, and tucked the rose into her skirt. I was ecstatic, my day couldn't have gotten better.<br /><br />Until I overheard she had told her friend I was sweet and a good friend to have. (later to be a recurrung theme) And I asked her for the rose back. It was not meant to suggest friendship. So I shot it all down in flames. There's early teen logic for you. Can't have it all, so nothing.<br /><br />This year was also my first major creative outlet. I broke free of the shell I had been in for years and lived it up. My best friend was Gavin and we were dorks. There was no question about it, and we did everything together.<br /><br />Including our english assignment. It could be an oral presented in any format you liked. And had to be about quitting smoking. Ours involved the use of two Agro puppets. Ironically named Cig and Arette.<br /><br />It landed us an A and had a classroom full of kids in stitches for over 10 minutes. This single entity taught me how much people value feeling good. It can disarm a situation and put people at rest. My love of comedy and providing entertainment would continue to grow...<br /><br />This was also the first time I met someone from where I used to be. Not literally, just the same place on the economic ladder. His name was Ben. Ben was tall, gangly, and incredibly rich. Ben was also incredibly well looked after. Father missing from I don't know what. (Divorce? War?) And a mother who doted on him. Ben used to write more than the rest of us in his homework Diary. And we didn't know why. So one day, to end all speculation, we asked him. His mum packed his bags. So anything he needed done, he wrote in the book.<br /><br />The rest of us would know if we needed a specific text book or not for the day, and would organise it as such when packing. Ben just wrote it down. He even wrote what he wanted for lunch, which strangely he never got. He always had roast lamb sandwiches on Mondays and Tuesdays (his mum was a tradituionalist and always cooked a roast on Sundays) and he gave the sandwiches to me. I have always been a big fan of roast sandwiches. So this worked well for me, Mum wasn't big into packing lunches at this time.<br /><br />Two major higlights remain in my head. We made a video for a Sony film competition. Unfortunately Gavin never submitted our entry in time, so our million dollar prize never came. It was fun though and we got to take a few afternoons off class<br /><br />The second........ And this is another big life moment. The trip to Canberra.<br /><br />Lets deviate to my cousin. We're about the same age, we looked alike (skinny blonde kids) and we grew up fairly close together. So as young kids, we were the same kid. In fact I had two cousins like this.<br /><br />But as we grew older we grew apart. We were just different people now. And it showed. So there was a girl, Rhiannon who lived in our street> We all hung out together and I called her chicken legs. Obviously we were very close. but secretly I liked her. As much as a young boy could.<br /><br />My cousin was more direct, more up front, so she spent time with him... until one day, my uncle. The erroneous, show up every few years and bring gifts uncle announces he is taking her home. I'm asking why, she lives two doors down remember.<br />Seems not. She actually lives with her father in Canberra and has just been on holiday for 6 months with her Mum here. Or she was moving to live with her dad. It's a friday afternoon and he says it's almost a day to get there. He will drive down, drop her off and drive back.<br />I got asked if i wanted to go for company on the way back so my Uncle didn't get bored and lonely.<br />Mum was fine with it, so I jumped at the chance. I grabbed a quick bag of clothes, and jumped in the car with Rhiannon and my uncle.<br /><br />The trip down was incredible. It had been over a year since I'd been on a LONG road trip and I was excited to pass towns and sights I knew. Additionaly, both kids sat in the back and we kept talking. By the time we were 4 hours away from Brisbane, we were holding hands across the car and as we fell asleep that night we were leaning on each other.<br />I remember being woken up at "Driver Reviver" stops along the highway and getting out for a stretch. Kids were always popular outside these small towns with Volunteers, so more than once we were given a bag of Kit Kats instead of just one. So a hot chocolate and bag of chocolate to keep us going on the road.<br /><br />Our uneventful trip (except for young romance) continued on until the outskirts of Canberra. We knew it was close and had been counting down signs and kilometres for the last few hours. And then the car started to flash lights. Things did not look good. My uncle said we would need to push on (what logic drove this I don't know).<br /><br />More lights came on... and the car stopped with a godawful screeching noise. We had run out of oil. Somehow it had leaked and parts of the car had simply refused to move without it. The engine was destroyed. There was no way to recover it.<br /><br />Rhiannon's father came with a tow truck 3 hours later and we headed into Canberra itself.<br /><br />We stayed here for a week, I'll write this up in the next post.<br />Sleeping on a floor, a desperate hand touch whenever we had the chance.... At this moment, I had returned to being only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-12915348063963422352007-03-15T23:36:00.000+10:002007-03-15T23:58:58.903+10:00Home again........This was to be the last of the big moves. We were living in Victoria at this point. In a mobile home. We had been here not long ago to visit my uncle and his young bride. And now suddenly we were living here. the mobile home was our home.<br /><br />I remember now the day we arrived here. To see my uncle. It had been months since i'd seen him. Months since he had arrived given us a watch and a backpack between us and then departed again. He was sitting on the chair when we arrived. It wasn't "a" chair. it was definitely "the chair" and he was playing nintendo. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_Mario_Bros._2">Super mario bros 2</a> I remember. Watching princess peach pull the vegetables out of the ground and throw them at evil koopas.<br /><br />He also had a bird on his shoulder, a pink galah aptly named Apollo. You may realise this was not the first bird to be named Apollo. it seemed to be a family tradition.<br /><br />So we meet him once again and his wife and we see the nintendo, the light gun, the sega and an awful carrot cake. I was made to try some against my better wishes and it was a poor decision. I'm sure that cake was a punishment for something.<br /><br />And that's all of that meeting I recall.<br /><br />We lived here for a few months before returning to Queensland. We even had a xmas. My sister and I both received a VHS copy of TMNT, and 2 of the turtles each. So between us a full set. I know i had Leonardo and Michelangelo, only because I remember which ones my sister had. I also had splinter and she received shredder. These videotapes stood out because they were green. The TMNT phemonenon was in full swing. I also received a remote control truck that xmas. It was reduced to clear for being faulty, but Paul fixed it. So I now had a very expensive remote control 4x4 truck. And could finally impress other kids with something I owned rather than knew.<br /><br />The trip to Queensland came out of nowhere again, I don't recall it at all. I do remember visiting my Aunt again and then suddenly we were living with them. A few key points stand out here before i started school.<br /><br /><ul><li>We visited the local supermarket, and i had never seen a "pick and pay" section before. hundreds of tubs of lollies, spices, ingredients, many things you could pile into bags and pay for by the kilo. No more needing $3.20 for a bag of lollies, just buy as many as you can afford. (i always wondered why bay leaves were so expensive, it's because they don't weigh much folks. You can get a LOT of Bay leaves for a kg, hence the $76 price)</li><li>This was my first celebrated Haloween. We went trick or treating and the only thing we got were Muesli Bars and a Ferrero Rocher each. I didn't like the look of it so handed it over to my cousin. And to this day still haven't tried one.</li><li>It was exciting to be living near the beach again. It was nothing compared to the white sands of bowen, the giant basalt cliffs or the deep rock pools. But the water was so close and there was a salt smell in the air.</li><li>We had a paper route together. All of us kids. Each Tuesday we would deliver the local newspaper from 6am. It paid $30 a week. And $10 a week for each set of pamphlets. Pamphlets generally came in sets of 6, so we made around $100 each week. Between us, $25 a head. not bad money for 11 and 12.</li></ul>Then I started school. Right around the corner. It was an exciting time as primary school was coming to an end, for the second time. This is where I think I did the first heart breaking. We all break hearts and here was where i did mine. It was a school dance, and you came in costume. I was a space man. I had a silver jacket, silver gloves, a rocket pack and silver pants. All of this had been normal clothes spraypainted by Paul. So you can imagine how itchy it was.........and rubber gloves all night? not a good idea.<br /><br />So here I am sweating and itching in my silver space suit. And Danielle asks me to dance a few times. I say no. I'm a young boy, I don't dance for anyone. A few boys did, but most of us did not, stood around drinking cordial and talking.<br /><br />All of a sudden Danielle leaves crying. Now I can't be entirely sure if I did start to dance with one of the twins, or if it simply got to the point where she had enough. But she left crying and days later i find out this is because of me. She wanted to dance with me more than anything, and i couldnt do it. I was too scared. So she left, upset.<br /><br />This was an important lesson. I did nothing. Therefore I couldn't have done anything wrong, yet I hurt someone without intending to. How does this world work. I didn't know how she felt, but apparently I should have.<br /><br />To complete the Danielle story........ I obviously lost contact with her over the years, but we started talking again not long after high school finished. She sent me a formal photo which I still have in a photo album. She was beautiful. Stunningly gorgeous. And she was so very friendly to me. I did nothing to deserve such an angel, and I hope she found someone to treat her as she deserved to be. She deserved a permanent love.<br /><br />And I was only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-67121403104452116982007-02-27T20:26:00.000+10:002007-02-27T20:41:04.452+10:00Sometimes we imagine it, and sometimes we don'tI'm talking about pain. Internal, emotional pain, and physical pain.<br />let's clarify something I was hoping I wouldn't have to say.<br />Paul. as many great stories as we have. The memories of playing in the pool, making monster movies, fake FBI badges, Zuchini dragons and ski-ing prawns, he was a monster.<br />There are so many other untold stories of nights drinking, empty bottles of beer and Ouzo. Screaming and shouting, fighting, punching, hair pulling, crying, falling, pain.<br /><br />The things shown in movies, the horrors of drunken abusive families. And I could do nothing. I was small weak, unable to defend my mother from being hurt.<br />This was pain, real pain of both kinds. Burning striking pain of being knocked down for nothing more than going to bed. When told to.<br /><br />And the emotional searing pain of being mocked, tormented and teased.<br />He was an alcoholic, a violent man, and possibly a sociopath. It was not a good time in life. But like many people we stayed. There was seemingly no other choice, and it's not to be dwelled on. I am not defined by these awful memories. I am strengthened by them.<br /><br />My courage, my desire to love, to look after those around me grew from those moments.<br />He was not a man. He was an adult, and he should have been ashamed of it all. But he wasn't, he was probably unaware he had done anything wrong. And for that I should hate him. I should despise all he stood for and the fact that he existed. But I don't.<br />I don't give him thought. He does not deserve it.<br /><br />Earlier in life, you've heard about us leaving David. My mother's husband. The man I though was my father. This was not easy. I hated him. I was angry. My father left me. I knew he wasn't, but I thought he was, and he wasn't around anymore. Did he miss me? Did he know I wasn't there.<br />At this point I didn't think about my real father, not a thought. He was gone for now, never to return.<br />A few more years later, My little sister left us to go and live with her father. David. And things were never the same again. I was forgotten. Lost and alone.<br /><br />Isolated from my family for my intelligence, my father had left me, my new father hurt us. We moved so often I had no friends, my sister made my life miserable.<br />But I smiled. I was alive.<br />At a young age, little things mattered, life was full of plans and hopes. I would become something and someone. I would not be these people. I would not repeat the mistakes of the father.<br />I didn't want to be superman at this point. I wanted to be a man. But I was only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-85982035278491109692007-02-27T20:05:00.000+10:002007-02-27T20:42:02.810+10:00Times are skewed......There are many smaller incidental memories that carry on from here until the next major chapter of my life.<br />let's visit a few of them before we arrive back in Queensland. This was the end of Primary School. The start of High School. Scary times ahead and the playing field would change.<br /><br />Memories.....lonely ones. I'm not lonely, theyt just sit by themselves for the moment. Maybe the rest of the life that surrounds them will be found later.<br /><br /><ul><li>We lived in a small house with prickly pears behind it. Fields full of them. We would go out in the afternoon with a tennis racquet and hit rocks through them. Occasionally we would hit rocks up into the air. I have no idea what was originally supposed to be around this specific house, but it was away from the world and there was nothing within any kind of distance of us.</li><li>I lived in a cupboard. Literally.</li><li>I guess the cupboard needs some explanation, we had moved into a 1 bedroom house, and my mother and Paul decided my sister and I would share the room and they would use the loungeroom as a bedroom. After all who would come knocking in the middle of nowhere?<br />Unfortunately as luck would have it, my sister did NOT wish to share, and convinced my mother that she should have her own room. And it was agreed. Where I would sleep had not yet been decided. And then genius struck them. I would live in the linen cupboard. Now don't be confused about my residence. It was a cupboard by any description. I slept on a hammock they had built and I had 2 shelves for my stuff. I could even close my door as i had a light and all.<br />My shelves contained a collection of plastic soldiers only 1cm tall. And an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atari_2600">Atari 2600</a> and about 50 games. This may seem a lot, but this is what poor people spend money on. Friends, relatives, and second hand shops had supplied us with MANY games at a very low cost. ( I beleive about 30 of them came from Telelist in one spectacular $12 purchase). Have I mentioned I didnt own a tv?</li><li>We lived in a tractor shed. One end of it was sealed off into a 2 room 1 bedroom flat. Don't mistake this as a house next to the shed, it was very clearly the end of the shed sealed off. When living here I learned to light fires. No, I wasn't an arsonist. It was my job to light the <a href="http://www.anu.edu.au/andc/ozwords/October_99/6._words.htm">donkey</a>.</li><li>I also learned to love watermelon. There is a life long love affair between me and watermelon. I used to buy them enormous, Large. MASSIVE. 12-18kg of watermelon. Which I'm sure I've mentioned already in the blog.</li><li>Then we all moved to Queensland, once again to be near a relative, my mother seemed to grow lonely from time to time. So we followed my Aunt again, a few months behind.</li></ul>If it mattered. If my life impacted here. it didn't feel like it did. I was only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-40240796009390325612007-01-04T22:14:00.000+10:002007-01-04T23:17:10.693+10:00Pink death and the MonsterThe monster is entirely unrelated to the pink death. But it did take place at the house.<br />I don't recall where exactly but we got our hands on a video camera.<br />It was small and portable and for a family without much it was an incredible prize. At first we bought some tapes and filmed us. Saying hi, waving at the camera. Everyone loves seeing themselves on tv, especially when you haven't been seen before.<br /><br />A mirror is only instant, immediate.<br />To be able to see yourself move while you're in a different pose is why we watch ourselves on camera. It's the little voyeur inside. Watch myself, see what I do. Oh my is that how people see me. Wow, my hair sticks up at the back. I walk funny.<br /><br />And then a master production was born.<br />It would be filmed entirely in one afternoon and I was to play 2 different parts. A Navy Commander with great authority and a lone Ninja who would fight evil. Filming went off without a hitch.<br />I walked onto camera in white pants and shirt, huge army boots on and a Navy hat. I spouted some entirely forgettable line and for an as yet unknown reason I kicked the door in on the cubbyhouse. Well that was the half baked plan. In actual effect my foot slowly, very slowly prised itself from the mud taking a large chunk with it. It hit the door with a wet thud and the mud instantly bonded. Next thing saw little Kal falling backwards into the mud and the camera making a sudden pan left.<br />Next scene is where the eventual title came from. I don't know why (the plot wasn't well planned) but I was to play a poor;y dubbed ninja and rescue my sister from the tank. She had fallen in the water for some reason. The scene went without a hitch until Paul emerged from the tank with welders goggles on and a pink rubber glove stretched over his head. Imagine a surreal cross between a tattoo-ed rooster and <a href="http://www.thechroniclesofriddick.com/">riddick</a>.<br />Paul burst forth from the water complely unexpectedly, pushing me out of the way and diving onto my sisters foot. As he wrapped his mouth around her foot, he spat out the mouth full of tomato sauce he'd been hiding.<br />It was simultaneously terrifying and hilarious. It looked brilliant on film, and we never could have acted as effectively as we were thrown into shock.<br />The brilliant masterpiece was christened "Tank Monster" and we even re-filmed some of the earlier scenes to make it clear that defeat of the tank monster was our ultimate goal.<br /><br />The tape was unfortunately lost in the great land cruiser migration several years later.<br /><br />One of the other major highlights of life in Victoria was our video shop.<br />My uncle made friends with a Doctor, who for some reason or another loaned our family the money to open a video shop. Now this was a big deal. There were no videoshops in the entire of Robinvale at this time.<br />Many takeaway shops had a small selection of movies available for hire, and these were rotated once every 6 weeks or so. Ours was to be a whole store devoted to movies. And this was before computers were really feasible, in fact the PC wasn't even in existence in my world. Computers lived in movies.<br /><br />We made a trip to Melbourne to buy stock. We didn't even plan in advance, just walked into some video wholesaler and Paul said we need some videos and you're going to help us find them. The man was a little short, and then Paul showed him a cheque for $32,000 and said we needed to spend it.<br />Things changed. People were brought to help us, we pushed trolleys around the store and filled them up. I purchased all the kids movies and helped pick the action ones. And they had stickers for us. We decided on a simple pricing structure. $4 overnight for new movies, and $2 a week after that. Really old movies were $1 a week.<br />This was a revolution at the time, Video shops in Bowen and other towns we'd been in charged $8 to $12 for a new release.<br />We wanted them to be for everyone.<br />Loaded down with movies in our broken transit van. We headed home. Over the next few weeks, cards were printed, cheap home-made shelves were painted and the shop was leased.<br />Everything seemed to be sailing smoothly until the day before we opened.<br />An angry greek woman came banging on the shop door. Her name was Toula and she ran the fish and chip shop around the corner. We couldn't open this store. Not allowed.<br />This was all the information we could get, my mother tried to talk to her and got some more information regarding her sister (who ran the shop next door). By an unexplained twist of fate, Toula's sister was english. And blonde.<br />She explained that Toula and her had a deal with the landlord, they couldnt sell the same things.<br />This prevented any price cuts and fighting.<br /><br />Our Video store would have broken the agreement. Except we werent in it. It was only between Toula and her sister. So the big opening went ahead.<br />Customers would come in and show their license to get a video card. We would write their details in a book, along with the number on their card And the movies were written in another book. ( Each movie had a numbered sticker and we kept them out the back. The empty cases were easier to store and less likely to be stolen)<br /><br />The primary downside seemed to be the manual paper method of writing the movies down and the locals lack of willingness to return them. The average movie stayed out for 4 days. And occasionally one would stay out for months. Each person you asked for the film would claim it had been lent to a cousin or a brother. Which meant half the town saw it for $4.<br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal">The two movies I recall in the video store above all others were ”The Lady in White” and Bill Murray in “Scrooged”<span style=""> </span>I waited 4 weeks for scrooged to arrive. And when it did, I watched it twice before I let it go to any of the customers who had it booked.<br /><br />In the end the store closed down, this was after we had moved to <st1:state><st1:place>Queensland</st1:place></st1:state> again and then back. I’ll always remember “BB Video” The shop named after a cockatoo who had been to war.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next piece of desert life is a little more close to home. Not that the rest has been specifically vague ;)<br /><br />We still lived in <st1:state><st1:place>Victoria</st1:place></st1:state> at this stage, except we now lived in a mobile home. It was a nice step up from where we had been and it was cosy. It was on a property belonging to the parent’s of my Uncle’s new wife. She was only 19 and he was in his late 30’s. At the time it seemed odd to me, and today……….well I still don’t think it seems entirely right.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Life on the farm was good, and mum and Paul saved money so I could go on year 7 camp. The end of school and the start of another. Actually it would have been year 6 camp. High School starts earlier in <st1:state><st1:place>Victoria</st1:place></st1:state>.<br />So, the big trip to <st1:city><st1:place>Adelaide</st1:place></st1:city> was prepared and we boarded the bus.<br />It was an amazing 7 days and I spent half of my allotted $40 on the first day buying a film for my camera. I didn’t imagine anything like this happening again, and wanted to remember it always.<br />We stayed in a scout camp in the hills outside <st1:city><st1:place>Adelaide</st1:place></st1:city>, and every day we got on the bus to visit a location. Everything from the zoo, the Berri Foods factory, down to the <a href="http://www.thetoyfactory.com.au/">World’s largest Rocking Horse</a>. And to think, I was there almost 20 years ago, It looks just like I recall.<br />The next big event on the trip was the Adelaide Grand Prix. We got to and walk around the track and even saw a real ferrari. Then they brought out the "stunt" car for the year. It was a backhoe with an enormous engine that shot flames out the side. We watched it play for 15 minutes and then we were given the chequered flag to keep. A long drive back to the scout camp followed.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The highlight of my trip though was Cassie. She was a girl from Queensland so we had something in common and spent most of the week yelling ridiculous things like “Everyone from Queensland run!” and rushing off ahead. I held her hand several times, including for the whole hour drive back from an observatory and finally on the last day I asked if she’d be my girlfriend. Unfortunately no. She wasn’t interested in me like that. It was the excitement of the trip, I understood didn’t <st1:place>I.</st1:place><br />At the time I didn’t. I was heartbroken.<br />Neither she nor I was from here.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Our stay wouldn’t be permanent. I was only a guest.</p>Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-68324637441613728492007-01-03T22:13:00.000+10:002007-01-03T23:49:50.393+10:00Some things are more obvious than others.The most obvious is my survival of the cyclone. Maybe it was a severe tropical storm? I'm not 100% sure. I am not a meteoreologist. I can spell it however. If that's any consolation.<br /><br />After that storm, there was a lot of cleaning up to do. Mud and leaves and rubbish and general mess. It didnt reduce my love of storms, it did however make me a little more thoughtful of the side effects when you see one come through.<br />Our lives in Hervey Bay didn't continue there for very much longer. We moved on again quickly. Now I'm itching to tell some further stories, but they arent til much later in the tale, so I'll abate for a moment and move on to Victoria. As started in the <a href="http://onlyaguest.blogspot.com/2006/12/time-in-desert.html">Desert</a> post.<br /><br />In Victoria we lived in several places, Most notably they were <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=merbein,+Australia&sll=-25.588965,151.296016&sspn=0.109306,0.160675&ie=UTF8&z=13&om=1&iwloc=addr">Merbein</a>, <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=Mildura,+Australia&ie=UTF8&z=13&ll=-34.16821,142.081203&spn=0.100274,0.21698&om=1&iwloc=addr">Mildura </a>and <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=robinvale,+Australia&sll=-34.16821,142.081203&sspn=0.100274,0.21698&ie=UTF8&z=13&om=1&iwloc=addr">Robinvale</a>.<br />(I'll try and link you to these locations when they come up. Think Desert.)<br />Robinvale was where we arrived in Victoria, and it was to pick grape's for the Gareffa's. Nice people. Their son Donny took me riding on his 4 wheeler. And I had a young crush on Carmel the daughter. Donny was my age (approx 10) and Carmel was a yr younger. Crushes were a strange thing at that age. It's all about emulation. You have no idea what you would do with a girlfriend, but your parents and movies are all about having a partner so you want one. Even if you don't know why.<br />I never ever told Carmel I had a crush on her. In fact I don't think we spoke more than a few times. Girls and boys led very seperate lives. This was the 80's and the world was a different place.<br />We lived in free accomodation (I'm sure it was free) provided by the farm. It was a small shack. For lack of a better word. No more than 30 feet long and 15 feet wide. It consisted of a bathroom with a shower, a bedroom and one other room. This room contained our lounge/dining and kitchen. Not a complicated life, but noisy when the wind blew as it came through holes in the walls. Did I mention corrugated iron? No insulation, no interior. Just one layer of iron. I never realised until this shack that we insulated our walls. Never bothered to notice our houses werent all white on the outside, or all brick on the inside.<br /><br />So, here we are in our little iron house. Wind whistling through the walls. Occasionaly some rain.<br />Stand out moments from living here.<br /><ul><li>Donny came by to get me one day, and I quickly hid the fruit off the farm we had been eating. He took me for a ride on the bike and stopped and cut me a big bunch of grapes. I asked if we'd get in trouble. He said "No this is a farm, who cares what you eat. You're one person we sell grapes to stores that sell to thousands of people"</li><li>We found a turtle one night down at the creek. Well Paul did. We brought him home and filled one side of the old twin tub washing machine. Tommy the Turtle lived here fine until my mother switched on the machine. Tommy was not spun to death, the water draining into the second half flooded it allowing Tommy to float right over the top and run away. I'd like to think he lived happily, but odds are a turtle in the middle of a farm did not make it far. :(</li></ul><ul><li>My older sister K decided to mix cordial together. Lime and Raspberry. It became a strange murky colour, A deep purple with a hint of black. Like Death's garden in Terry Pratchett's "<a href="http://www.bookworld.com.au/products/detailed.asp?bookid=0061020680&db=au">Mort</a>". She christened this curse to all flavour "Berri Juice" and proceeded to mix it up on regular occasions. This resigned me to mixing up my lime cordial on a "per-glass" basis and foregoing the benefits of premixed and fridge cooled lime goodness :(</li></ul>I only ever had one friend come to stay in the farm. It was more than a little embaressing to have porous walls. But I got past it. It's another defining moment. My children wouldn't do this. They wouldn't ever feel they werent warm and safe at night. I decided this at 10 yrs of age. Big decisions for a little man.<br />Money is important to me even now. Not accumulating wealth. Having it. Being able to buy what I need and some of what I want. Being able to buy a badge from people on the street and to drop money in when you see the Salvo's. I always, always give to the salvos. Sometimes twice on the same day. They were there for me.....<br /><br />We eventually moved out of the shack and into another. This was on a small farm owned by one man. Vincent.<br />Vincents he called himself. And we could live here for free in the "pink house of death".<br />It was a whole house, walls, ceiling, floor. (did I mention the shack didnt have a floor?) And it was a nice pink. It just wasnt very well built.<br />There were gaps where walls should meet. Some rooms had larger holes where 2 walls and the cieling should meet. We quickly stuffed these gaps with newspaper and settled into normal life.<br />My uncle came to live with us for awhile, which was always exciting.<br /><br />Outside the house was a cubby house. well built with walls, cieling, floor, windows etc. We lived in it almost. Next to this was a river water tank. Not for drinking, and used for irrigation. (river water tanks are used to get higher water pressure. You pump water from the river uphill to the tank and fill it. Then you can use a second smaller pump to generate water pressure for your farm) And this tank was huge. It would have been 40 feet across and we used to swim in its filthy black watered depths.<br /><br />I think the other stand out point with this house was the external laundy. Outside the house. In a seperate building. And across a 2 foot wide 5 foot deep Chasm. yes, there was a trench that ran the length of our house, and yard, and as far as I could see. Perhaps the forgotten remnants of some wishful piping project.<br /><br />The pink house of death was a gorgeous place. After multiple "shacks" and caravans and tractor sheds. It was lovely to be in a definite place.<br /><br />My uncle brought things along to us that we didn't have before. For starters he bought our family a CD player. This is at a time when they cost thousands, or something. Very expensive. And he overtalked the technology like so many did. "Indestructable" "Lasts forever" and proceeded to stand on one of his new cd's and slide around the footpath on it. Rest assured it never played again.<br /><br />He also brought along a bird. A cockatoo named Apollo Creed. Apollo lived in the backyard during the day. Tethered to a metal clothesline by a dogs choker chain. It seemed to suit him and he would bark along with the dogs all day. Occasionally he would call out. "Watch.....watch.....FLIP!" and he would leap off the clotheseline.<br />Sailing through the air until he reached the end of his 3 foot chain. He would stop flapping and drop like a stone. The chain carried him through an arc and as he approached the peak of the other side, a few quick flaps would settle him on the line again.<br /><br />A few months later my uncle decided to let Apollo off the chain. I'm not sure why. He was the perfect guard.<br /><br />You see, thepink house of death was at the bottom of a road. And there was nothing else on this road except us. So whenever dust could be seen coming down the road my uncle would yell "INCOMING!" at the top of his lungs. And Apollo soon caught on.<br /><br />Anyway, back to the chain. Uncle would wake up at 6 and let Apollo out of his room and Apollo would walk and wait at the front gate. Someone would open the gate and the bird walked out and off through the fig trees. He would return sometime after sunset and knock on the door at the back of the house.<br />One day after months of this, he was followed.<br />Apollo would walk through the trees and across the property, he then emerged some 800m away behind a service station and would circle it. climb into a birdcage and proceed to greet people for the day. When the service station closed for the day at 5, Apollo would leave after the lights were off and come home.<br />The owner confirmed for us and said he used to have a cockatoo to greet people, but it died, And Apollo had often come to see it.<br />How he thought of replacing his friend amazes me. But our bird had a job.<br /><br />That's most of what happened in the pink house of death with vincents.<br />Actually it isn't.... I'll revisit this time shortly.<br /><br />The landlord didnt speak english, I shared a room, and I had no friends. I was clearly not a part of this house. I was only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-12435166515908311002007-01-02T21:08:00.000+10:002007-01-02T22:31:18.649+10:00Let's not be a sheep and mention the occasionWe all know what the big occasion was days ago. So let's all pretend we didn't see it and continue on with our journey.<br /><br />A bit of a jump ahead, and at the same time a slide all the way back.<br />We're going to <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=Hervey+Bay,+Australia&ie=UTF8&amp;z=14&ll=-25.30089,152.906685&spn=0.054784,0.10849&t=h&om=1">Hervey Bay.</a> Home of whale watching, Vic Hislop and one of the Mcpherson sisters. The sweet one. Well technically I wouldn't know. It's only Mimi I've spoken to. Both in Hervey Bay as a child and years later I handled a complaint she made to a company I was working for. She was very polite for a complainant.<br /><br />So we find ourselves in the bay. It was a family drive from Bundaberg to visit my Aunt and Uncle. Actually it may not have been from Bundaberg, I think we were coming from Mundubbera. It was at least a day on the road, which eliminates Bundaberg.......Then again we did so much driving in those years it's hard to keep one trip seperate from another.<br />The drive was only about a visit, come see my relatives, play with my cousins and go home in a few days.<br />We arrived just before lunch and Uncle Mick (not really my uncle and not a nice person) took us all for a walk along the Jetty at Urangan. It was always referred to as the mile long Jetty. But I don't think it was a mile by the time I got to see it. We walked along, smelling the sea air, which was a beautiful smell I enjoy to this day. Seeing fisherman bringing in a catch.<br />It seems every second person had a bin with them, lots of them had water. Little fish swimming in the bucket. Bait it seems.<br /><br /><table style="width: 537px; height: 191px;" cols="1"><br /><tbody><tr style="font-weight: bold;"><td>Learning with Kal</td></tr><br /><tr><td> When fishing, bait is important, and the bait used will play a major part in what you catch, if anything. Not surprisingly, many fish like to eat other fish. Small fish therefore make an excellent bait. And to keep things simple, the universe made them not very smart. So by using only a herring jig (read piece of line covered in little hooks) you can catch many of them quite quickly. All you do is lower it into the water and shake it up and down, this "jigs" the line and attracts the little herrings. They eat the hooks, get stuck and you reel them in. They can then be used for bait for other fish or to be sold........ as umm bait<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />So fisherman everywhere with buckets of bait, and a few started bringing in larger fish. Queenies, Kingfish, some big Trevally. It was exciting to see someone reel in a fish almost the size of me. And Paul decided we would move here. Immediately. At the time I thought this meant go home, sort things out and come back soon.<br /><br />I was mistaken. It meant moving now. This minute and Paul would go home to collect our stuff and sell the caravan. So we did. But we moved to a house. It was so exciting. We lived right on the main road, 5 minutes walk from the beach and the "mile long jetty". Our Auntie lived next door, there was a supermarket at a small set of shops a hundred yards in the other direction and a second hand shop called "Telelist". We spent large portions of our meagre income here. And our pocket money.<br />The other big thing to spend money on was fishing gear. I wasn't the most excited fisherman ever, but I took part. We bough knives. And Axes. And rope. And Tomahawks. Back in the day young kids could buy anything.<br />By bike we would roam Hervey Bay. From one end to the other. Whether it was visiting Jonathan and his siter in one direction, or riding in the opposite direction to Max's Video shop. Max would hire us Ducktales and Herbie movies, or Sega Games. It would be years before I realised how nice Max was. We often got several movies for the price of 1 and we nearly always got a free sherbert lollipop. Those lollipops were fantastic, Sold all over Australia. Light pink or Tan and fizzy fizzy sherbert. (not sherbert filled, the whole lollipop was fizzy)<br />Max is one of the people I pride myself on being like.<br /><br />I went to school while we lived here. Urangan State Primary School to be precise, it was year 3 or 4 I beleive. and my teacher was Mrs Rasmussen. An american woman with a shock of white curly hair. This was 1988. I know for sure because we got a coin at school. To celebrate 88.<br />The bicentennial coin all Australian kids got. Do you still have yours? I don't so I just bought one on ebay.<br /><br />Other stand out moments here included learning to play Vigaro. Who uses a bat that shape? And learning about archery. We only shot little arrows, but Steve at Telelist explained to me what a compound bow was and how it worked. Unfortunately I did not have enough to buy one.<br /><br />I also experienced a cyclone here. Dark clouds and strong winds filled the day before and as night came all hell broke loose. I slept through another on years later, but this one, I did not.<br />We all huddled together in one room. We heard a terrible roar as the wind pushed the rain hard against the house. Windows smashed, and being so close to the beach, the water made its way right to our steps. Luckily it was a high set house. This was a scary time. Would we make it through? Would our house collapse exposing us to the elements?<br /><br />Was my time as a guest over?Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-90475190314290864732006-12-31T00:26:00.000+10:002006-12-31T01:40:59.722+10:00Time in the DesertOk, I had to take a quick minute to chuckle as I started blogging to the same song as the last entry........ NEXT!<br /><br />Due to the amount of time I spent changing schools, doing correspondence, or just outright not attending school, I honestly don't have ages for some of these events.<br /><br />We spent at least a year in Victoria, over 4 batches I think. We didn't go directly from Bowen to Victoria at any point in time. It was always via somewhere else like <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=Mundubbera,+Australia&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=48.77566,82.265625&ie=UTF8&z=14&ll=-25.593697,151.289806&spn=0.054651,0.10849&t=k&om=1">Mundubbera</a>. Coincidentally, if you ever want to play a game of minigolf with bent home-made putters next to a giant fiberglass Mandarin then Mundubbera is the place for you.<br />Actually let's visit Mundubbera.<br />We lived here only once that I recall and It was for months. We picked the whole season as far as I know, and we saw the Big fibreglass Mandarin change.<br />It was a gift shop at one point, and an office or local museum at another. So there's a few references to the length of our stay.<br /><br />I didn't go to school while we were here. And I didnt celebrate Christmas or a Birthday. So it was between March and December. The show rolled around. This was an exciting part of every small town. When the carnival came to town.<br />As usual there were dodgy rides and dodgy show folk, but it didn't faze me. The time I had spent with my grandparents at the <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=Strathpine,+Australia&sll=-25.593697,151.289806&sspn=0.054651,0.10849&ie=UTF8&z=18&ll=-27.285947,152.984726&spn=0.003366,0.006781&t=k&om=1">showgrounds</a>.(what are the odds the Satellite photos of Brisbane are from August. There's the show I grew up attending) So, as I was saying. The time spent around the showfolk as I grew up made me feel comfortable avoiding them.<br /><br />I remember we begged for 3 days to get money to go to the show. And in the end scrounged enough to gain admission and have $3 each. Barely enough for a ride 20 years ago, or in some cases enough for two. Depends what sort of ride you went on.<br />We wandered around, watched the rides, listened to laughs and yells, looked at the showbags lovingly and eventually settled on a Tilt-A-Whirl Ride. It squeaked and groaned and generally felt unsafe. At the age of 9 or 10 I thought it wasn't a good idea. But I still got on. (Courage? Stupidity? Or just being a man....)<br />On our way out, we walked around the opposite direction. And saw a circus tent, but it was square. What could it be? A python of cables leading under one side suggested it was electronic. Ever notice that as a kid, even in the face of overwhelming evidence you never jumped to a firm conclusion. Everything still only suggested or implied.<br />Armed with this new found suggestion of fact we circled to find an entrance and enter the tent. Lights flashed, Beeps sounded and the roar of artificial gunfire from spaceships filled the air.<br />It was an arcade. A mobile arcade.<br />Bear in mind at this point in life I had never lived in, nor visited a major city. The concept of many videogames being together had never been considered. I wandered for hours. I scrounged the ground for coins and found many in the grass. Not enough, but still I got to play so many games I had never seen.<br />I was in love, this is where I beleive my love for videogames came from. It was as much a technological achievement as it was raw gunnery. Even though I'd had videogames before. We had a sega at home.<br /><br />I hadn't reached the moment of jaw dropping awe yet. That was a few minutes later, when I finally made my way behind a row of machines I thought was the last.<br />Wooden games. Wood and metal and glass. Old fashioned antique looking games youd associate with the term "Penny Arcade". These games were exquisite pieces of engineering and took skill to play.<br />My favourite, which I lost many coins in over the next few days was a key puzzle.<br />The game consisted of 5 hanging keys, all suspended in the centre. And a curved base. This base had keyholes in it.<br />As you inserted a coin, a trapdoor at the back opened revealing a stash of coins, 10 or 15 of them to be precise. And one keyhole under each key would change colour. (there was a track or row of seven keyholes for each key. Three per side and one directly underneath.)<br />Now the keys started swinging, and one of the keys was red. So one keyhole under the red key would switch to red. And one would turn white on each of the other tracks. You needed to press a button to stop the keys. Your prize of coins was awarded based on how close each key was to it's designated keyhole. The red one if locked exactly would release all of the coins in the treasure compartment for your winning pleasure, and possibly add more coins if other keys lined up.<br />I became very good at watching the keys and timing the lock right. So whenever I found a coin or two, I would go and try to win some more. The only reason I won money was because I waited until other kids saw me play it and win. So they would try after me and put money back in the machine. Someone had to.<br /><br />Apart from home made minigolf at the giant Mandarin, the rest of my time here was forgettable. Very much so. Just a caravan park, few belongings and afternoons watching the Ninja Turtles. I didn't have a room or my own space here. I didn't need it. I was only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-84448295973171796462006-12-28T21:03:00.000+10:002006-12-31T01:43:38.709+10:00We Met.......I recall meeting Paul. At least it's what I presume was when we met.<br /><br />We walked outside and I was told who he was, I looked at his Tattoo's.....Some had words, some were just pictures, and he shook my hand, made some face and laughed. I was immediately deposited into the station wagon via the rear door.<br />My sister followed soon after and I think we left on the same day.<br />Set off for a new life of excitement and adventure.<br /><br />Now the next 5 years was a long and adventurous time. During this period we travelled (more than once) from Bowen to Melbourne and everywhere along the way. We picked grapes, oranges, cucumbers, mandarins, okra, button squash, tomatoes and <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">zucchini</span>.<br />My education went from correspondence, to local schools and even a period where I didn't go to school at all. Amazing I turned out like I did.<br /><br />Now this was a learning experience in life, not so much through our education system, but by being a part of the world.<br /><br />Some highlights from Bowen<br /><ul><li>In Bowen, we picked tomatoes, and lived in a caravan on the beach. Not exactly on the beach but <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">not</span> far. It was maybe 80 metres from our caravan to the entrance of the park, and the beach was directly opposite the road from there. You could run from home to the beach without being worn out. My best friend here (friendships are always distance based) was Patrick. He was my age and had a dog. A <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samoyed_%28dog%29">Samoyed</a>. Huge and white. Ironically named Snowy. Patrick would become very upset if Snowy did not respond immediately when called. It often resulted in him yelling "<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">NOOO</span></span>-<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">EEEEEEEEEE</span></span>" at the top of his lungs.<br /><br /></li><li>I learnt to drive a Tractor here. I was only 10, yet I drove. Originally my job was to hand out buckets for the tomato pickers. Big 20l plastic buckets. And I would dutifully spread them out, two at the end of each row, just enough to fill if you picked one hands or two hands (fruit picking terms). And the pickers appreciated it. However at 5c a bucket, I <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">earned</span> my $10 or so a day very hard. Then I met John, the driver, who said I should just throw stacks of buckets (30 in a stack) in the general vicinity of the rows and the pickers could sort it out. So that turned my daily work into less than an hour. The rest of the time I was taught to drive the tractor. Within a few weeks, John used to kick back on the trailer and I would get to work at 5:30 get on my tractor and go drive around the farm delivering stuff.<br /><br /></li><li>I used to buy things for my family, and for the other pickers. I remember one night on the way home. We had just been paid (in cash in little envelopes) oh and did I mention I didn't really work there. The pickers paid me themselves. So I told them how many buckets, and it added up to them (I'm sure I was smarter than most of them, but I never lied or ripped anyone off) and they all gave me some money. I had $140. A HUGE amount of money for a 10yr old. And I asked the driver of the Transit van to stop. We pulled into a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Caltex</span></span> (I think every servo in rural Australia is a <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Caltex</span></span>) and I went in. I came out, some $40 poorer, but had 18 <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">ice creams</span> and everyone gladly at their drumstick. It was a nice afternoon and it made people smile.<br /><br /></li><li>Another highlight was the animals. You may not realise this, but fruit deforms easily. Most fruits are actually flowers of some kind, and the petals or stamen mesh together and fatten up. Look it up sometime....<br />So anyway, they deform easily. Two flowers next to each other become one.....And we had a collection of deformed or really weird looking vegetables and fruits. In Bowen it was <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Zucchini's</span>. And they were often made into animals. You see, Paul was a chef. not a cook, a Chef, An incredible chef, but due to a hefty collection of Tattoo's and a nice drinking habit he didn't work as one very often.<br />So he learnt the skills of an artist(catch THAT reference) along the way.<br />I would often sit down to dinner and on <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">the</span> corner of my plate was a dragon or a mermaid, or a flock of sheep. What had previously been a deformed cucumber quickly became a dragon complete with claws, fire and smoke and a long curvy tail.<br /><br /></li><li>HUGE sidestep here. But while we speak of Paul's food creations. At <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Delfino's</span></span> in Hervey Bay, Paul used to make a sculpture or display to go with each weeks buffet. My favourite <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Friday</span> night excitement was a Prawn ski-<span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ing</span></span> on a blue mashed potato river behind a potato boat. Driven by a herring. It was detailed and precise and it had a wake and all.<br /><br /></li><li>We used to play Pontoon. 21. Blackjack. I still think they are all the same game today. No major difference. We would sit around the table in our caravan and play with 20<span style="font-size:78%;">c</span> pieces. I think we started with $5 each. Hours later we would pack up, fold the table down into a bed and go to sleep.<br /><br /></li><li>I went to school for a little while in Bowen. It was the first time I had anyone make fun of my white hair. Which wasn't too bad, I would lose it soon anyway, so no problems there. But I caught the bus to school for the first time. With my sister. Once we started school, we didn't work on the farm anymore, so no more money. One morning I saw a fox. It ran across the road right in front of our bus. I don't think I have ever seen a real fox since.<br /><br /></li><li>I remember the day we arrived in Bowen very clearly. We came into our caravan park, and a little while later went for a walk on the beach. It was so exciting. Coming from Desert Victoria, or small town <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">NSW</span> to the beach in north Queensland. We found coconuts and shells. We built a fort from palm leaves and collected driftwood. And finally we came home and Mum and Paul had a surprise for us. We had a book each. A copy of the "Mammoth Book of Jokes" to entertain us while out on the farm. This mammoth book had hundreds of pages, and lasted me less than 12 hours. *sigh* I think there were about 200 jokes in the book, maybe more. But they were repeated <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">a lot</span>. The jokes were used for cartoons later in the book etc.<br /><br /></li><li>My prized <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">possession</span> at this point in my life was "<a href="http://www.latestbuy.com.au/electro_rhythm_stick.html">Rhythm <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Stix</span></a>" a virtual set of drumsticks you could play in the air. I had the first ones that came out. They had a spiral cord that attached to a belt pack the size of a HUGE <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Walkman</span>. and made 2 <span onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">different</span> drum noises, seemingly at random. But I bought them with my own money and I loved them. Played virtual drums for hours.<br /></li></ul><br />Even though I lived and worked with people. I was smarter than they were. I was literate and curious in a rigid, illiterate world. I was only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-38482486212142622042006-12-26T22:00:00.000+10:002006-12-26T22:29:01.566+10:00ChangesRight off the bat, does anyone ever watch/listen to/respond to blogs that have your current track?<br />Hrmm Personally I don't see it. But if you feel it might provide some kind of explanation.<br />Heartbeats - Jose Gonzalez<br />Which you can hear in the Bravia <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oP5J4W5GQ3w">"Bouncing Balls"</a> ad.<br />Or this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5iC3Lh6XaOc">little piece</a> on LED Throwies.<br /><br />Now, back to the main event.<br /><br />School carried on in the same vein. Hot lunches a few times a week, more exciting games. (is catch and kiss still played in the modern playground?) And a delightful english girl who had my attention solely because she sounded different. I can still hear her voice as one afternoon she grabbed my arm after being asked to leave some game and said "We dont even want to play, we want to go over there, Dont we?" and I was escorted from the game.<br /><br />We also spent a lot of time with my cousin. He was wild. I'm still not sure to this day if he was just a lot of fun or if he had ADHD, or maybe they just gave him a lot of sugar. But we were mischief with a Capital M.<br />Should I mention at this point in time in my life, I'd been to hospital several times. Adenoids, Grommets, Stitches in my head (twice) and to this day my mother thinks I was trying to fly. Well sorry folks, as much as I like Supes today, back then I was already smart enough to know I couldn't fly. I slipped. I climbed out my window and chased a bird across the "awning" that covered the garden downstairs. A wrong foot placed and SWISH, Little Kal sailing through the air and hitting the ground. Horrible day.<br /><br />So changes.<br />We moved. Packed up the house and left. Moved interstate, all the way to Camira. Suddenly things were different. I wasn't known as being smart. I'd learnt different things at school. And there were bigger kids at school.<br />I wasn't enjoying things at all. Until I aced a spelling test for the week, suddenly I was seen differently. I got to help paint the planets when we studied the solar system.<br /><br />Our neighbours here were the first I can remember meeting. A single mother and her 2 boys. All german.<br />They taught me so many things, but strangely no german.<br />We ate toast with Salt on it. Nothing but salt. To this day, it's an occasional snack, occasionally meaning once in the last 5 years. It's not good for you * DONT TRY THIS AT HOME* But it's something that just tastes like the past. They also taught me to eat porridge dry. In a glass with sugar. This I did not enjoy, but Kal is not the one to rock the boat, so dry porridge it was.<br />Years later, I'm not sure if Yurg and Kai were abstract, strange foreigners or just really poor...<br />But I can assure you wholeheartedly, that as my life moved on over the next few years, I would be poor. Poorer than I think any of you readers have been.<br /><br />The three biggest changes in Camira in Year 3 were fairly profound for my developing life.<br /><ul><li>My family found out I liked a girl</li><li>I made a real best friend</li><li>I lost my father</li></ul>The girl was nothing substantial, I was 7. But she had shining blonde hair and she smiled all the time. I forget her name, it was unusual, and I waved at her from the backseat as we sat at the local shopping centre. She looked, I called her name and I never heard the end of it.<br /><br />My real best friend was Matthew. We were inseperable, liked the same things, but always had opposites. Ie we would watch Transformers together, but both wanted to be a different Transformer. Months later when we moved, Matthew wrote to me. I wrote back a couple of times, but as most people do, the letters got further apart and eventually stopped. A habit with penpals I would continue for close to another 20 years....<br /><br />And my father. Well, he wasn't my father. Have we covered that yet? Well readers you've missed out.<br />We'll need to step back briefly, this is back in <a href="http://onlyaguest.blogspot.com/2006/12/who-am-i-really.html">Murwillumbah</a> that I found out I was lied to. We were looking through photo albums for a photo of a specific event or memory at the time, and I saw a photo of my Mum with a redheaded man. "Who's that?" I asked, waiting for tales of an Adventuring Uncle who I immediately presumed was an inventor.<br />It was my father I was advised. And I innocently turned to my <span style="font-style: italic;">father</span> and told him he looked different. And recall my heart hitting the floor and me sitting down as I was told it wasn't David. It was my father. My brain took seconds to piece together the obvious but unspoken truth.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">My father wasn't my father. </span>Which was incredibly complicated to face. I wouldn't be quite as shocked by anything for another 10 years, when at 16 years of age I met my father.<br /><br />So I come home one day and well I've pushed it out of my mind. We all sat down and talked, David was moving out. An unheard of concept for a smalltown family, I didn't even realise people's fathers could just leave. ( I refused at this stage to think about where mine was). What was going on? Would we move to?<br />No, we wouldnt. We would stay here with the neighbours nearby, the rusty trampoline, aluminimum walled pool and rusty swingset.<br />And we did.<br />Until Months later..............Mum came home and took us to our Aunties house. We were introduced to Paul. Tattoos, swearing, smoking, a beer in one hand and a station wagon we could climb all over. We liked him immediately. And not long after this, we left again. With Paul. Left our lives, our friends, our family and my mother started running away from life. The first of a trail of mistakes. But it was the start of a series of adventures I have not forgotten and that guide my life today.<br /><br />Even then, I didn't stay long. From this point in my life, I would be only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-47788705615300167162006-12-23T12:48:00.000+10:002006-12-23T13:38:44.813+10:00Memories of TreesLet's break out of our onward journey through time. This is a special occasion and that's always worth breaking habits for.<br /><br />I remember so many beautiful xmas' but 2 stand out amongst all the others.<br /><br />The first and stand out one is many years ago, I would have been 10 or 11 and had been living with my grandparents for a few months. My mother decided travelling all over the countryside with us wasn't very good so we were sent to visit. Which I didn't mind. My grandparents lived in a showground, so always exciting things happening there.<br /><br />So back to the story, we arrived about a week before Christmas to see Mum and my stepfather again. Hervey Bay is a beautiful place and we ended up living here for a few years.<br />SO it was a small house, nothing fancy, cheap weatherboards in the same faded shade of "formerwhite" as every other weatherboard house. I was excited to be here with Mum again and remember thinking, this is not an expensive house, but it's a hell of a lot nicer than that tractor shed we lived in. SO excitement was building.<br /><br />Xmas eve we had a nice dinner with my aunt and uncle who lived next door. Literally next door, within a month we would have a pulley from one kitchen to the other and a toyworld phone system acting as an intercom.<br /><br />Bedtime arrived and I toddled off to sleep. I read my dangermouse book again. Mum read some with me. It was another one of this things I just didn't get. Colonel K. I pronounced it as COL-ON-EL not as Kernel. Even though I watched the show. I just pronounced it wrong. I suspect i just figured the word out on my own when younger and my photographic memory just stored it. Pity it stored it wrong.<br /><br />I awoke early the next morning to my sister shaking me, "Kal, Kal come look its HUGE"<br />And I dropped off my bunk with an almighty thud which I'm sure woke parents for miles. And we made our way into the loungeroom, I literally stopped in my tracks and did a doubletake.<br /><br />Here's little me, walking into the room, head down, eyes being rubbed. And wrapping paper comes into view. I look up and see a tree that dominates the room. ( there had been a smaller tree before now) And a stack of presents that would make Santa himself groan at the thought.<br /><br />It can't have been more than 5 minutes before my Mum and Stepdad came out. Paul walked in in boxer shorts and a blue singlet, tattoo's proudly shining in the morning light. I was completely comfortable with this. What a surreal change this was from the home I'd grown up in. Fireplaces, jewels, leather furniture and deep deep carpets you could hide in.<br /><br />But I've moved off track, they smiled at us and asked us to sit and then started to hand us presents. It was always a division of gifts first with my mother. You were handed all of your gifts and then opened them. Your own pace. None of this hand you one by one and see what you looked like with each gift.<br /><br />So I sat there, carefully eyeing off my stack. An enormous bounty of goodies. And I peeled back the paper on the first one. It was enormous, as tall as I was when sitting, and the corner of paper showed me a sherriff's star. I was excited, not even knowin the contents of it, that star alone was all I would need.<br />The package ended up being the entire township for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bravestarr">Marshall Bravestarr</a> and further packages contained Tex Hexf, Thirty-Thirty the robot horse and the support characters and villians. Everyone except Bravestarr himself. Even a Motorised future stagecoash. I had never even seen Marshall Bravestarr, and to this day never laid eyes on the cartoon. But that didn't detract from how cool he was and the adventures we had. These action figures were enormous and the bar and jail and Kerium mine were fun and easy to use.<br />I only found out a few days ago that Marshall Bravestarr was a native american. The things we learn almosty 20 years later............<br /><br />But that was an amazing morning, we were all together, it was fun, exciting, and I got the whole set. As superficial as it seems, I was only small and I had everything. Every package refers to friends, or "see also" "Also available" and I had it. Everything on every packet was in my hands, I didn't stop playng with them until dinnertime, and then afterwards I went back until I was ordered to bed.<br />(Next morning I found an unopened present in my pile of wrapping paper which turned out to be "Phaser Force" a toy laser gun set with targets you could wear on your chest and head or place on a shelf for "Phaser Target FUN!")<br /><br />The next I recall is from a few years ago, I saw my entire family on the one day, for the first time in my life. Not all of the Aunts and Uncles, but a few of them. My Mother, a sister, Uncle, Auntie, a couple of friends, and my father. Which was a big occasion. It was spectacular. I was firmly in the "Parents" category by then, no more time at the kids table and I gave out more presents than I received, it didn't diminish the day in any way.<br /><br />It's easy for us to lose track of Christmas, what it means and what it's about. There isnt a defined rule for everyone, this is the one time of year you should do your own thing. But I do suggest you find what Christmas means to you. Your place in it all.<br /><br />No point wasting one, it only comes once a year, and you never know, you could be only a guest.<br /><br />Merry Xmas to you all, especially to Boff and HG.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-1864801016070459942006-12-18T20:54:00.000+10:002006-12-18T22:22:28.962+10:00It starts somewhereEven school......... I'm not sure why school appealed to me. Later in life it didn't. Learning did, and still does, but school itself lost appeal. Too many pitfalls to get in the way of pure learning.<br /><br />So it's the beginning of the 80's and I live directly across the road from school. It's an infants school. Only prep through year 2. So no bigger kids. I'm really in support of these broken up environments, although it won't matter in the modern internet connected world.<br /><br />So I'm standing around in the lounge room, the whole family is there, I mean literally. We had grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunties, Little Kal and cousin Wayne heading off to school for the first time was a big occasion.<br />We got on our uniforms and then they brought our bags, brand new backpacks for each of us. Identical except for colour. I had a bright red one and Wayne had a blue one.<br />They were upright, square and had a single clip. It was like an airline seatbelt, a HUGE clasp but we did like that it had a reflector built into it, like one off the back of your bike. Truly school was going to be an awesome experience with a start like this.<br /><br />Across the road we went, and up the hill, this hill would amaze me daily for years. It was so so steep and about 50m top to bottom, quite a workout for little legs.<br /><br />We were lined up into grades, boys and girls in seperate lines (which no-one complained about at the time) and we moved into classrooms and learnt the basics. Who our teacher would be and how things worked.<br /><br />I don't know if it was a private school or not, but we had hot lunches. We paid for them, but you could order a pie or a sausage roll in the morning before school and at lunch it would be brought out to you. And they were beautiful, I still remember how they tasted and it's why I'm so picky about meat pies today even. You can't beat those.<br /><br />Mrs Irish was the teacher for Prep and year 1, she was dark haired and very sweet. Genuinely loved all of us and remembered everyone.<br />She recognised me on sight when I came back to visit when I was 10. And later 21.Now that's devotion.<br /> I did not look the same each decade that passed.<br /><br />There are some key things that stand out from the infants school.<br />Highlights<br /><ul><li>A school play about a magic department store or a fifty cent piece ( it's a little blurry, but I played a cat and had to "meow" 3 lines)</li><li>A fancy dress parade where I went as a Tea Bag</li><li>Alcohol based photocopies. ( I didn't know they used alocohol back then obviously, but they were purple and smelt awful, but whenever you smelt it you knew you were getting a handout)</li></ul>We used to play a lot of games, every lunch break we would gather in our little groups and let our imaginations run wild.<br />I remember Louise, who I planned to marry wanted to play "flying horses" which consisted of everyone being given a flying horse name and running down or across the hill as fast as you could with your arms stretched out. As far as I recall I was the only boy in the game. All of the other flying horses were girls.......I guess I liked women from an early age.<br /><br />One of the other games we played consisted of an incredible journey. You can guess where we got this idea from. There was a play gym shaped like a long arch, this was used to simulate the teeth. And we the scientific explorers would enter through the throat and make sure this person was ok.<br />We knew all about how it worked, the "Life education" van came by every few months and taught us about organs and the important stuff.<br /><br />I remember one day being pulled out of my line and moved to another. I told Mrs Irish I was in the wrong line, but she said I belonged in the new one. I was apparently too smart. The prep class was not going to be good for me, because i could read already. I'd learnt from Sesame Street and kids tv and then rehearsed it from my sister's books. I used to listen to her read them to mum and I'd memorise them.<br />Then I'd take the books and read them myself, working out the words matched with what was said.<br />A big start for a small boy.<br />Unfortunately this would be my only step up in the world. Moved ahead a single grade, forever destined to be smaller and younger than my classmates.<br />Never again in my school years would my intellect be pushed towards something greater......<br /><br />Things carried on at the school in normal fashion. My sister and I continued to spend alternate weekends with my Nana.<br /><br />Nana's house was at the top of a nearby hill. It was enormous, swimming pool, many bedrooms, floor to cieling windows etc, years later this went from being a nice house to a sign of wealth as I learnt more. But I'll discuss Nana's house in depth later.<br /><br />I never really liked peanut butter. I mean from the start I didn't enjoy it and one day my lunch got mixed up. I had my sister's sandwiches by mistake, too late. She had eaten the vegemite ones. I had nothing to do but take them home.<br /><br />This was an important lesson in life. Mum was annoyed that I brought them home. So I got in trouble for wasting them, even though I clearly hadn't been responsible for the mistake.<br />Next day I was sent to school with a note and some sandwiches.<br />Lunch time arrives and I'm pulled aside and sat at a table with a peanut butter sandwich.<br />It was cut up and I was made to eat it. I felt horribly sick and I cried. I was forced to eat this sandwich I didn't like. For no reason. Alternatives were available, there was no reason I should be made to do this.<br /><br />So I learnt that people react to things and make demands.Even if they have no reason to.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Lesson learnt: In my life I do not make people do things for no reason. I have staff under me, I have managed businesses and I am a father. I make decisions for a reason and can rationalise all of them. Don't do things to the people in your life you can't justify.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span>I learnt to tie my shoelaces in the back of the car. We were going to get an ice cream and I undid them and kept trying to get them tied again, I eventually did it 20 minutes later. It would be years before I could do it consistently. Until 12 I wore Velcro or tied knots in them.<br />One of those strange things I just didn't get how to do.<br /><br />Does it matter what I couldnt do? I'm only a guest.<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span>Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-86830433580689467832006-12-16T22:38:00.000+10:002006-12-16T23:20:03.764+10:00Who am I really?I know there's questions on who I am.<br />I know some people who read this, and they don't know it's me. I've even been passed the link....<br /><br />So let's go back to the beginning..... All the way back to the beginning. Because who I am is not a name. It isn't a photograph. It's me. All of me.<br /><br />The earliest I can remember clearly is sitting at home watching sesame street. I was too young to go to school, and I was waiting for my older sister to come home. My mother was in the kitchen making apple crumble, which I didn't eat, but I loved helping make it. Breaking up biscuits to go in the bowl, watching Mum peel the apples, the apple peel reaching to the floor in one long spiral.<br />This was in <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&q=Murwillumbah,+AU&ie=UTF8&z=13&om=1&iwloc=addr">Murwillumbah</a>, the small town I grew up in.<br /><br />It was a beautiful house, and I lived there, right next to the Pacific Motorway with my mother, father, and older sister. Years later I would find out unsettling things about this. But for now, these were the occupants.<br /><br />My room was at the back of the house, and I had 2 windows, one looking out the backyard and onto acres of canefields. And the other looked across at the neighbour's house.<br />You may think I had a noisy home, but we didn't. Carpetted floors and lots of room kept the noise we all made to ourselves, and the houses opposite the freeway were down a hill, so any noise from cars and trucks simply went over us.<br /><br />Our loungeroom was large, and on the front corner of the house. Exactly opposite my room. I used to sit in there and play games on some video game system we had, or I would watch movies or listen to records.<br />My favourite videotape had film clips on it.<br />Some I knew for sure we watched are :<br />Summer Loving - Grease SOundtrack<br />We built this city - Starship<br /><br />I loved the film clip for starship, these enormous cities I had never seen before, people dancing and singing on the street, and being chased by enormous fluffy dice, rolling down the road behind them.<br />I was hooked, it was loud and wild and incredibly exciting.<br />The presence of Starship places us in 1985, I was 6 at this stage, so firmly going to school.<br />It's difficult to piece things together at this point, there are 27 years of memories to sort, and at that age, MANY MANY things were of no significance to me.<br /><br />While we are looking at music, I used to go to my Nana's house every second weekend. (we took it in turns) and she used to let me watch one of her video's.<br />It was a Tom Jones concert. Tom sang and danced around a huge fancy stage with some scantily clad women. I think this is one of the moments that defined where I see women.<br /><br />They were beautiful, stunningly so, like you would imagine a pile of gold and jewels. I remember thinking how happy they all looked. They were dressed up (I knew this wasn't normaly daywear from things I saw) and they were so happy. Tom made them happy, they were happy singing and dancing and I loved them all.<br />Also worth noting, and I'm very confident of this, none of them were sticks. Real women, they had curves, which I would come to appreciate later in life......... But I was enthralled with them and their feathers and glitter and jewels.<br /><br />I wanted one day to give women jewels, and feathers and glittery underwear (I don't think this one works anymore) and to make them happy. Didn't everyone deserve to be happy.<br /><br />So there I was, no more than 8 years old, enthralled at watching Tom dance and sing and suddenly the flood started. Water was pouring down the stage Tom was on, It cascaded down the stairs, missed the women by inches, missed Tom, washed away a little bridge he'd just danced across and carried on.<br /><br />Now THAT's showmanship.<br /><br />Tomorrow we go to school.<br />It's not unusual to be loved by anyone, it is unusual to be only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-68024136917274969572006-12-07T22:32:00.000+10:002006-12-07T22:42:20.664+10:00How do you tellSomeone Kal know's thinks they've changed.<br />They've grown up, moved on and become a bigger person.<br /><br />I don't think they have. I think it's a game, a deadly dangerous game with their life and someone elses.<br /><br />There are things I count as being an adult, that contistute growing up.<br /><br />Responsibility is first. For everything you do. I don't make excuses. I don't beg for forgiveness, all of my mistakes are my own. I am the one who was late. I am the one who didnt return the call. It's all my fault.<br /><br />And consideration. How does what I'm doing affect someone else. It does, and you know it does.<br /><br />If you can't follow either of those, then you have not grown up and it's unfair of you to declare that you have.<br /><br />One person in particular, has regressed as far as I can see.<br />Spending your time with irresponsible people and taking actions to hurt someone does not a grown up make.<br /><br />Do you hear me? Grow up and act like the adult you claim to be. Stop hiding behind excuses.<br />How's that for directness....<br /><br /><br />And while my mood sits as bitter as it does, what the hell is wrong with the average person. Why can't a decent conversation be held....Why can't the truth be told.........<br /><br />I gave a speech last weekend, which I sorely missed. Maybe I should move back into a speaking job, I love talking and the deep voice of Kal overpowers all.<br /><br />Then again.......why get a job I'd enjoy. I'm only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-28791385294004692802006-12-05T22:28:00.000+10:002006-12-05T22:48:53.236+10:00Foot StepsOften life is about following in foot steps.<br />We strive to follow those in front, whether it be a relative, a teacher or a self chosen hero.<br /><br />But often the steps we follow the most, the hardest steps to follow are the little things. Something small being done by someone we know and we can't follow it.<br />For some people this is something like not being able to say "I love you" back to a partner and for others its simply being monogamous...<br /><br />For me............I don't think I've found it.<br /><br />I beleive in honesty, brutal and forward.<br />Yet I can't break someone's trust.<br /><br />If I KNOW someone is going to be hurt, how do you ruin one friends impression of you to save anothers. Does it matter if he will never find out I knew in advance...<br /><br />Inside it does. I know the mistakes. I know the errors. I know the time I havent spoken out.<br /><br />I'm afraid to defend a friend who was verbally attacked.<br />The office environment I am in is malicious and evil. It's a genuinely harmful place to work.<br />Constantly at one another's throats, the pack of jackals seeks a new throat to devour.<br />So she was the target.<br />First how she spoke, then something she did, and as they continued on self reinforcing, supporting one another's claims, they needed to stay in the game...<br /><br />Like most bitter and self righteous attacks they lost focus. Suddenly the issue was that she had helped. She had done something of her own free will and of no harm to anyone. And they all finally had the same point.<br /><br />It was raised again 4 times. The same point. The same comments, and not once did it sound like she had done something wrong. If you're curious what she did?<br /><br />She made 4 phone calls from home. 4 calls to find the right company a customer needed.<br /><br />Is this where we live in? Is this the world I want to be a part of?<br /><br />I cannot change the actions of others, I cannot make others see the error of their ways.<br />And sadly I cannot speak up when someone I cared about is being ravaged by the jackals.<br /><br />The superman has let the world down again.<br />Suddenly I feel not so super.<br />Would anyone else notice I didnt speak up? I'm only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-46963875738258736782006-11-08T22:23:00.000+10:002006-11-08T22:33:08.763+10:00Doing the right thingThe most important thing in life is to do the right thing.<br />That means all the time, not sometimes, not when you feel like it. And not when it's easy.<br />The right thing is seldom easy.<br /><br />I'm telling you, in order to remind me.<br />A few of the trials you're own superman here is going through are testing the limits of doing the right thing.<br />I've been getting no thanks, no appreciation. In fact on 2 occasions I actually managed to upset someone by helping them out. All part of the trials of life I guess.<br /><br />So I look at the ring. The superman ring I wear. It's not about being a fan (although I am). It's about remembering to make the right choices, doing the right thing. And not letting people down.<br /><br />So that's what I'm going to keep doing.<br /><br />But there are some tough choices, and like a lot of people in life. I need to make a choice. And both choices will cause a problem for someone.<br /><br />A friend of mine has started seeing someone too young for him. Well technically I think she's too young to be seeing anyone.......... but moving on.<br /><br />His girlfriend obviously doesn't know. Oh and did I mention she's a friend of mine?<br /><br />So where's the option here....... I can't betray either one of them. I can't lie to anyone. I can't keep seeing them both and just not say anything.<br />I think the choice is to stay out of it. And if asked anything, always tell the truth.<br /><br />Or maybe there isnt a friend. Maybe there isnt a girl.<br />Maybe I need to say something I can't.<br />Anonymously, secretly, unread. I still can't confess.<br /><br />I'll remain only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-54199905198490383792006-11-06T23:20:00.000+10:002006-11-06T23:28:30.067+10:00Shouldn't she know?How do people not realise things that are right in front of them.<br />Things matter in life and a relationship, some things don't.<br /><br />Conversation matters, interaction and sharing.<br />This is where it should all start from.<br /><br />And yet some people have lists.<br />Items jotted down, a post it note in the back of your brain. <br /><br />Must like dogs. Must go windsurfing.<br />I want someone who writes.<br /><br />Maybe criteria can be useful, and negative criteria I'm all for.<br />I see no problem with having traits you don't want in a partner.<br /><br />But having a list of what I should live up to........ that's like picking your meals based on a pre-defined list. Regardless of what you feel like or how hungry you are.<br /><br />I guess spending hours locked in coversation isn't important to some people. Or maybe it is and there's something I don't match up to......<br /><br />Does an average looking guy need to do much to entertain a woman?<br /><br />Now this leads me to my second point, and this one is going to be the cause of much upset, maybe for many people.<br /><br /><br />I am NOT trying to impress you. This is not how relationships work.<br />As a man, I will choose if I am interested in a woman, I will show interest, I will share my good side, I will make sure she knows my negative traits and dark secrets. (why risk things going bad later)<br /><br />This does not mean I go out of my way to impress you and you do nothing for me.<br />Sorry sweetheart, pick someone else.<br /><br />Message to the last woman I dated.......You needed to impress me as much as I needed to impress you. And sorry to say......... You didnt do so well.<br /><br />I can't complain too much though.<br /><br />After all I'm only a guest.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-36308275945756307142006-11-01T22:17:00.000+10:002006-11-01T22:44:57.157+10:00Things pile up sometimes.........People often say life can sneak up on you.<br />I was never sure what it meant. Does it mean I'm waiting for a bus one day and BAM a job and a family sneaks up behind me.<br /><br />But I guess it does.<br />Despite the blogs here, and trust me, life is very different to portrayed here. I was cruising along.<br />Dream job, time of my life.<br />I quit smoking, I started running, working out.<br /><br />Everything sails along, meet some women, go out with some friends. And then my mighty tower started to lean.<br /><br />A few loose bricks here and there........ some cracked mortar..............<br /><br />Bigger hurdles.<br /><br />I start to deal with someone I work with who goes out of his way to make my job difficult.<br />Literally, this man is over 30 and one of the other managers. And behaviour exhibited would get my children grounded.....<br /><br />Then I meet the girl.<br />We worked together months ago, 18 months ago. Then we run into each other.<br /><br />A coffee is arranged, a meetup, something casual for a "hi, how are you?"<br />We meet-up. A casual hello, and we sit down to order coffee..... 5 hours later we havent left the cafe/restaurant.<br />We've ordered a meal, looked into each others eyes, talked, rejoiced, regaled each other with tales.<br /><br />I never imagined we had so much in common, so much alike, so many things to agree on and share. Like no-one else I've ever met.<br /><br />A proper date is arranged. Dinner.<br />Once again, it all goes well, hours of company and conversation.<br />Twice more, then we see a movie, distance.................<br /><br />Completely uncommited, no answers, no feelings, nothing close.<br />Mixed signals, moving too fast, talks about someone else missing out because of not moving fast enough.<br />A step back, she asks me out again, wants to see me more, gets flirty, asks me if Ive thought about her, wants details, wants more, compliments, looks, wants to know she's wanted.<br /><br />Then suddenly back to we're just friends, I dont want more, I need my space.............<br /><br />And everything raised or directed from her side is thrown back at me. You did this, you spoke about this, said that............<br /><br />The smart thing to do is walk away, she's not interested.........<br /><br />I cant just drop it, she's not trying to hurt me. I've not told her I think any more of her than she thinks of me. I've not said anything done has hurt.<br /><br />I'll smile and carry on, after all. I need to make someone smile, even if its not me.Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-5506017126411293632006-10-01T21:33:00.000+10:002006-10-01T21:41:20.054+10:00Heartbreak.......The things that hurt are the ones we ignore.<br /><br />Truth's that spring on us from nowhere aren't as painful as one we ignored the clues for. Little hints the world throws and we ignore them.<br /><br />I'd been ignoring the way bear felt for awhile.<br />She wasn't interested in me. WHy would she be, she had a husband. A child.<br />The things we would never do. The people we would never be involved with. Something deep inside adds them to the list. We do always want what we can't have.<br /><br />But there were 2 almost consecutive realisations, and neither could be ignored.<br />The superman shirt was worn to work. This was as a lost bet. Dont get me wrong, it's my kinda shirt, but I didnt wear it to work......<br /><br />So the Bear insulted me over the shirt. Charming too. A direct full faced slap of her opinion. She didnt mean it to be offensive. It just was. Which made it a little worse, because she saw me react and didnt twitch.<br /><br />Then I got sick. An entire week off work.<br />Best friend messaged me constantly, he was concerned, as you are with your best mate.<br />The bear didn't. We had seemingly moved categories from inseperable to uncaring.<br /><br />It is not unusual to notice that daily contact with someone suddenly doesn't exist. and it's not wrong to check on people.<br />But she didn't.<br /><br />I would.<br /><br />I would check on the whereabouts of any of the people I work with if one of them wasn't there for a week.<br />I guess the world has changed more than I realise.<br /><br />And in some ways, I've left myself in the dark too.<br /><br />What did I fall in love with? She was not who I thought she was. Is it an act on her part? Or wishful thinking on mine?<br /><br />If only I was here permanently to find it out. .....Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32061594.post-48044240708397471182006-09-17T00:24:00.000+10:002006-09-17T00:35:42.962+10:00Secrets and liesThe world is full of secrets. Everyone has them. Dare I say even me? ( bit ironic posting that on an anonymous blog, but I digress...)<br /><br />What makes a secret worth keeping?<br /><br />There's a delicate balance between being open and honest with everyone and keeping the things they don't need to know. If someone they will never see again dislikes them for no reason, this doesnt help to share.<br /><br />An attraction to someone you can't have............ Best kept inside.<br />And yet is it? Do we have the right to keep something from someone?<br /><br />Is it wrong to feel something and not tell? is it lying?<br /><br /><br />From a Dido song.....<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If I didnt tell you, then I'd still have felt it, and where's the sense in that</span><br /><br />There's a lot of complications in doing the right thing. And we all should try and do the right thing. After all, aren't we all only a guest?Kal Elhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10558769438604981986noreply@blogger.com1