I remember watching this on tv when it happened. I was scared, I grew up under the threat of nuclear war and now it seemed unlikely to happen but what now? Now we are still the same, wars happen and tensions rise. But the wall came down? No more war, right? Just as WWI was meant to be the war to end all wars, the end of the cold war didn’t mean no more war. It is, unfortunately, human nature. For as long as there has been man there has been war. So how do we end wars? End man? The cold war made that threat. No. We do not need to end man, we just need to end the way we think. War occurs when men disagree on something, be it land, assets or beliefs. Power, power over land, assets or beliefs. Should men have such power? Should women? Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolute. Modern countries need to realise that one person should never have total control. A lot of countries understand this with the way they have set up their governments. However even the great shining light of democracy seems to forget that from time to time. Even thou term limits are in place for some political positions, some aren’t and some just end up with a family running again and again. My own country a few years ago voted in most of the same members from the party they threw out less than six years before. Like the arab spring in the middle east of recent years, we need a new spring in the western countries too. Capitalism is running us all and democracy is becoming a thing of the pass like the Wall. Democrat, Republican, Liberal or Labor, we need don’t seem to have much of a choice especially when the other little parties just don’t seem a good choice. BUT when they are the only other choice between the same old same old and a new future, maybe we should give them a go. Even if it is to shake up the “usual suspects”.
It doesn’t matter if there is a mummy and a daddy, two mummies, two daddies. It doesn’t even matter if there only one mum or dad. Children just need love and guidance. Raise your children with love, show them right from wrong, teach them respect and give them more love. Be a good parent and you will raise good children.
why do i have to change? why is it my problem? things that trigger me are allowed to stay but i have to ignore them? how about those triggers fucking change? how about those that spark me off realise that they are causing this…how about they stop and think and change so i dont get fucked up? is it to much to ask? it is little things that get to me. i am told dont let the little thing bother you but when a little shit starts to pile up soon you are neck deep and trying to survive. why is it i have to be considerate of others when they are not of me? todays world has been fed “you can do anything” and ” you are special, dont worry about other, do what you want” to a point were no one cares about others. it is all about me. well guess what. i can be like that to so fuck you all. i am what i am and if that seems fucked up to you the fuck off and live your life and leave me to mine. i am special. i can do anything and i dont give a fuck about others.
“Hughes lets Rip!”. “Hughes calls Hinch a W$&@er!” National headlines yesterday after Monday nights episode of Q&A on the ABC where comedian Dave Hughes called commentator Derryn Hinch a wanker.
Why the profanity? The panel was discussing the Australian Prime Minister chugging a beer and the message it gave to binge drinking. Hughesy was talking about how (beer drinkers and spirit) drinkers drink to get drunk not for the taste of the alcohol, in his typical larrikin way, when Hinch stated he drank wine as he liked the taste. Hughes, in my opinion, replies what everyone who doesn’t drink wine thinks of wine drinkers, “yes but you’re a wanker.”. Why do us none wine drinkers think that? To me wine is a “rich persons” drink. they drink it with a hint of wankerey. Of course this is not true, it is just a years old Aussie beer drinking perception and thus a cause for jocularity. Hughesy, to my observation, meant no ill will to Hinch and Hinch reply of “It takes one to know one.” was a typical, if some what lame, comeback. The next morning they were both on local radio wondering what all the fuss was about.
The fuss was about selling newspapers and TV ad spots. Media it seems had nothing better to report on so they sensationalized the story and gave a brief cover of the events without giving the full context of the statement. Did it work for them? Well I am here talking about it and you are reading about it.
As for the PM drinking a beer, well I think he is more of a wine drinker myself and like Hughesy said………
I don’t know whether it is just me or if anyone else has this kind of relationship with their blood relatives. The whole you can pick your friends but not your family, well some days I wish we could.
I have never had a close relationship with my mother, father or three older brothers. I knew mum and dad loved me and I love them but I always felt like the black sheep. My oldest brother left home at 15 and went to work in the railway. My next oldest was a cricketer of some repute in the day and my next brother was a cricketing STAR and still is. Many around town knew of the “Logan boys” and their sporting prowess. Many more new of my fathers skills and expertise in motor building. Mother worked odd jobs all over and was always the faithful wife by dads side, in sickness and health (I don’t remember much of the health, mostly sickness). She worked selling tickets for charities, the corner shop at the beach when we went on holidays and was there for us all it seemed.
Then there was me, the youngest “Logan”. At school everyone thought i would be the great sports star like my two older brothers. Boy were they wrong. I got knocked out in my first cricket match. I was the wicket keeper (why I don’t know as my brothers were batsmen and bowlers) and out paceman “Jonesy” sent a screamer that made it past the batsman, past the stumps and past my gloves. Good thing my head was there to stop it going to the boundary for four byes. So I gave tennis a go. Day one on the tennis court, I tossed the ball up to serve when a cricket ball, from the practice nets next to the court, came over the fence and smashed me on the top of the head and, you guessed it, knocked me out. Football and soccer never appealed to me, to many rules, so next up was hockey (not ice but field for you peoples in the northern hemisphere).
I actually was not bad at hockey and did play it for many years until one time when I representing my district, I was made goalie because the guy who was meant to be was sick. Not a worries, I had played goalie in training many times, so give me the gear and I will suit up. All the gear was with the sick goalie, back home, four hours away. We scavenged gear from other teams, any spares they had and managed to get all we needed except one piece. Groin protection, a box, a cup or what ever it is called in your land. So the only thing protecting my “manhood” was a thin layer of cotton and a thinner layer of polyester (my undies and shorts). You will never guess what happened in the first game? Yep, right in the meat and two veg, the mummy and daddy button, the franks and beans. Of to hospital we went (when “they” swell up and turn black you should seek medical advice). Go in to see the doc who tells me to ice them and go see my doc back home in a week if there still problems. Well there were still problems a week later. I was given the choose of no sport, rough housing or any kind of activity that will aggravate my potatoes in any way for the next six months OR cut them off. Guess which I choose as a 15-year-old boy? Six months went by and i was cleared and announced healthy again.
Which brings me to today where I am married and have two kids (they definitely mine, poor son looks just like me and daughter is my personality thru and thru). I loved my Dad but I do not remember ever thinking I want to be like him, follow him in career or hobbies ect. Growing up he was forever getting me to help with cars, radios and electric things. Really turned me off them as a young man. Now thou I wish I had done more with
him, especially with the cars as I now have a love of old cars. But it is too late for that now, way to late. Looking at the way my son is with me reminds me of my time with my dad, he doesn’t want to do things I do, work or hobby wise. It use to bother me, I felt like i was doing something wrong and being a bad father maybe. Now I know it is just the way it is with teenagers, I know both from reflecting on my younger self and by talking to my shrink about it (He says it is normal, it must be. He the doc). I want to do more with my boy (I do a lot with my girl, we been shooting, comic cons, photography) but I am not going to force him and drive him away. So long as I am there for him and he knows it, well, it is all I can do.
The following was a passage I wrote when I was beginning to emerge from the dark back to the light.
It is so strange to me that I can go from such a high, great weekend feeling good to 48 hrs later feeling like what is the point. I know I have things to do but why? They don’t need to be done now do they? What if I don’t do them? What if I don’t do anything again? Why not just one more thing and then it is over? No more worries for me. No more sleep problems, no more anger for feeling useless. No more worries about the future for me. But what about Meg and the kids? Will they be better off with out me? Sure they would. I won’t be wasting time, money, space or their lives with my misery. Insurance will give them some money to get thru some bills and they will be ok.
Then I think about what if one of them left us? Would I be better off?
No. I want them.
I want to see them grow up, be happy, have kids if they wish. I want to sit beside Megan on a deck, drinking my coffee and looking at her grey hair, wrinkled face and beautiful blue eyes for ever. I want the kids to be part of our lives till our natural ending. To visit us at our dream home with their loved ones. I want to see Harry and Shooshy grow up to be the wonderful people I know they are going to be. To be better then I was in life and yet hopefully still love me for how I tried. I want to be there for all of that and more.
And I hope they want to as well. That is why I will never taste the barrel again. That is why I will not take the easy way out. Because my family is worth the struggle.
As we get older birthday parties become fewer. Is this a human trait to prepare us for death? Stop the celebrating and get ready to grieve? Should we grieve? Life is a long time, a life time. So much happens in that time and yet we only think about it when a life ends. We think of good things with that life. We remember the ups and downs. We think of the regrets, should we regret anything? A regret is something you wish had happened, that you had the power to make happen, but you didn’t. Will your life change now it didn’t happen? Would it have changed your life if it did? Does it matter in the “grand scheme” of life?
Why do we cry at funerals? Is it because we are sad? I don’t think so. I cry for happiness and joy. All those people there for you are there because they love you. All those people that call or come by do so because they love you and that is what makes me cry. I cry with joy and happiness for I am surrounded by love. There is sorrow for the one gone. But we can not live in sorrow. Love is what defines us. Love creates and love builds lives over time. And in the end it is love that holds us together and brings us back to life.