I am an Olympic Tragic.

For 16 days I couldn't get enough of the Olympics. I thank the International Olympic Committee for allowing not only Channel 7 to broadcast Olympic events, but also they granted us an auxiliary broadcaster in SBS. So two channel of Olympic Games goodness to indulge in. Even sweeter was the fact that this was the first Olympics that our big screen plasma TV has been exposed to with a HD digital signal. Outstanding. Before I get into too much about the past 2 weeks, just a few notes on the respective broadcasters. Channel 7 milked the swimming to the nth degree. OMG, seriously, if I ever hear a swimmer being interviewed on the pool deck after a heat race saying, and I quote;"Yeah, nah, I was really pleased with getting a PB for the hundred fly. I was on record pace for the first split, but I pulled back for tomorrow," I will scream. I DON'T CARE! For all channel 7 concerned about themselves about for the first week was swimming. It didn't matter that we had a no-name someone in a heat who came 7th, they still had to cross to Bruce 'special' McEvaney for his expert insight. SBS meanwhile gave us something else, a viable alternative to those narcissistic swimming team interviews. They gave us archery, table tennis, football, handball, judo, boxing, kayaking...in other words, everything else that Australia wasn't a serious contender in. And that was fine with me, it didn't bother me that our boxers were all bundled out in the first round, it was great to see other countries get up and have a win. So, in no particular order, my top Olympic moments are: 1: Usain Bolt. He broke the 100m world record and wasn't even trying for the last five strides. 2: The weightlifter whose elbow bent backwards. If you don't believe me, look up Youtube; Olympic weightlifter elbow. Youch. 3: The German weightlifter who, on the last lift of the competition, managed to clean and jerk 250kg and win gold. This being after his wife died in a car accident 18 months ago and two failed lifts at 235kg and 242kg. You will not see a more pure expression of joy in your life. 4: The Kayaker from Togo who won their country's first ever olympic medal, a silver, who was so ecstatic he broke his oar over the bow of this boat. 5: The opening ceremony. The synchronicity of the people involved was astounding....but also a bit chilling. Many people likened this to Berlin 1936.

It's not bird flu.

It is quite startling how quickly one goes from being healthy and strapping to being struck down with illness. And that was me, last Wednesday...it was like any other Wednesday, I got up, walked the dogs, had a shower, rode into work..except that I had a little tickle in my throat. I should have been more vigilant on that little tickle because quite frankly it turned on me and in the space of one hour I was a shadow of my former self. I sat in my office wondering why I was seeing two computer screens and why the carpet was moving under my feet. The cough had now degenerated into what amounted to a seal barking. I was speaking, but I really wasn't too sure what I was saying and even if I was making any sense. It all sounds like an acid trip but far from it, this virus had hit me good. My boss, bless him, took me home at lunchtime. By the time I had hit my couch and turned on the Olympics, I was spouting phlegm from my throat and nose is such copious volumes that I was amazed that the human body had such amounts in reserve. It was no good. The dogs looked at me in a way as if to suggest that if I had died then and there, they would have had no hesitation in eating me, they pretended to be sympathetic, but I knew....they could sense my weakness, like vultures circling overhead. So my life for 48 hours consisted of bed, couch, bed. Poor Miss R didn't fare much better, although she was still able to think straight, even go to work and was a tad more mobile than I. And isn't it amazing the state of one's house when all sanity goes out the window. Rubbish, dishes, dust, dirty clothes....not important. What was important was trying to somehow work out what my body was telling me. I couldn't sleep, yet, I couldn't stay awake. Purgatory of the cruelest kind. But somehow, as a testament to the human immune system, some 5 days later, I am feeling human again. I regained my appetite only 24 hours ago and I should point out that over the course of three days all I had eaten were three pieces of fruit toast and some chocolate. It's tough being sick, frustrating even. The world still turns without you and it won't stop to let you back on. I am now 5 kg lighter and really needing to get my strength back up again. Whatever it was, good riddance to it.

Of bikes and other things....

I am starting to get bike rage. No doubt about it. I think I have mentioned previously how there is a certain breed of cyclist out there...the female neo-hippy riding around on a 1980s style kids bike that is barely quicker than a brisk walk. But I'm not sure if my riding is getting quicker, or everyone else is getting slower but I am constantly being held up by cyclists who think that dawdling around in the cycle lane is de rigor. I would hardly call myself a hardcore cyclist by any means, so far I do not ride in lycra nor in a sponsored jersey and my bike pedals are proper pedals that can be used with proper shoes without clicky things underneath. But I just wish sometimes some people would either put in a little more effort or else maybe pull over a bit so we can ride past you without being cleaned up by the semi-trailer baring down behind us. All that aside, it is nice to see many more people cycling to work, even in the depths of winter, the bike paths and lanes around the inner city are being well used. Whether this is a response to petrol prices or what I don't know. I dare say that the fair weather cyclists will be coming out of the woodwork in the next few months, probably to compound my frustrations.

Oh Brother.

If you had read earlier postings, you would've found that I have a little secret. Well, not so much a secret as something not to be proud of. Yes, I watch Big Brother. I think back to 2001 when the first series kicked off. That very first series with all the hype and mystery surrounding it. I had watched clips from overseas where contestants were mobbed by thousands and thousands of people. This must truly be an awesome show full of pop-psychological observations on sociology! But what we got wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. But still, as if I was trapped in an hypnotic whirlpool, I was sucked in. Every night, 7pm, on would come Big Brother. My housemate and I would yell abuse at the TV and how we didn't want Anne Marie in our living room ever again. It was our two votes that sent her home. Good. I wished Blair had won 'cos the guy who won was totally forgettable....hence why I don't remember his name. The second series, for whatever reason, I didn't watch it. Again, some boring guy won it. Then my eyes were opened to the possibilities of what Big Brother could be when I watched the British version. It was fantastic. It was straight down the line, simple, effective, tough. No holiday for these clowns. Even the host had a bit of spunk about her...Go Davina! But in the end some born again christian guy from the Orkney Islands won...again, b-o-r-i-n-g. I was disappointed with the Aussie version when I came home. It had become soft, when someone breaks the rules, you don't give them 20 chances, you expel them, immediately. Put the housemates under fear. Pressure. But all we got was akin to watching a 20-something beach party year in year out. But still I watched, I dunno why, probably because there was nothing else on at 7pm. Last year was pretty good I thought. A great number of twists, and the people were actually half decent. But again, too soft. And so this year, it ends....tonight...at least on channel 10. I can't see another station picking it up. If you thought the contestants for the channel 10 versions were boring, imagine what it would be like on channel 9...sheesh. They would have the personality and complexion of sanitized toilet paper.

I'm not a political animal but....

I have never been THAT political, my time at university was spent firmly in the middle between the "Young Liberals" economics students and the "Socialist Left" arts students. I voted, whoever won, won, and trusted that they would do the job handed to them by the people. The power of democracy. However, sometimes I just get a bit fed up. My gripe at the moment is with the Victorian State Government. Where do I start? I think it was three years ago when I was sent a lovely little fine in the mail for doing 64kph in a 60 zone. $135 thank you. Speed cameras....yes they have their place, but the government's blind axing of the 10% speedo error margin down to only 3kph was ridiculous. It was almost like, despite the opposition to it, despite car manufacturers saying that their speedo error margin is 10% at best, they just went ahead and did it anyway. 64 in a 60 zone...man, look out, the road was straight, dry and it was 6.30 in the morning. I'd better look out before I wrap myself around a lamp post. The next ingenious thing they did was begin trials on a new ticketing system for public transport. Now, I'm not talking taking an already working and proven system from another city somewhere, no, I'm talking sinking millions of dollars into a new ticketing system that is now running 2 years late. And instead of thinking 2 years ago, "hey, this isn't going to work, let's try something else", they didn't! The sheer stubbornness of sticking with it is extraordinary. And don't get me started on Melbourne's public transport. Luckily I don't have to catch it, but poor Miss R does, and the tales of woe....where to start?? Actually, they could start by placing staff at each and every station. When I happen to catch public transport, I don't think I have ever paid for it. But if I knew someone was waiting at that little suburban station checking the tickets, then I would. But why should I if I can so easily get away with it?? A 2 hour ticket is $3.30 and an all day one is something like $6.00. I've done the maths. A ticket evading fine is $110, if you make 36 trips, and don't get caught, the fine has paid for itself. Lord knows I've taken more than 36 trips. Go me! And the transport minister, despite 1000s of complaints a day made to her department, effectively showed little remorse saying that it wasn't her problem, but Connex's. So, what is it you actually do?? Oh yeah, she builds more roads....but oh no, we won't pay for it, you'll get tolled for using them. So the billions of dollars you are receiving from the federal government's GST is going where?? And now the state government are hell bent on building a desalination plant down in Gippsland. Despite all the opposition to it, despite them bullying protesters, despite the untold amount of damage they'll do to the local ecosystems of pumping hyper-salinated water back into the ocean, they'll just go ahead and do it anyway. How nice of them. I just get the impression that they're losing touch with reality, the whole lot of them. But then, come next election, who do we vote for?? The other guy has the collective personality of a split pea, he has a weird, creepy stare that reminds me of Blofeld from James Bond, but with hair. Just so fricken frustrating!!

Favourite movie scenes...corrections

Okay, well, it's kinda funny how you remember one thing, but in actual fact, in reality things are a bit different. I've managed to find a few of my favourite movie scenes on You Tube, so there are a couple of corrections I'd like to make: - In Terminator 2, it isn't a newspaper that is hiding the shotgun, but a box of roses. - In Heat, there isn't too much silence between gun shots, but still, probably the most realistic gun shot sounds found in any movie.