There is a light at the end of the tunnel ...

…and it isn’t a train coming through!

We have been watching Le Tour, and there has been a lot of talk about the HTC train. To those of you not watching the TV from 10pm until 1.30 in the morning – Australian time (it even made the back page of the Financial Review during the week – tired executives dragging themselves to the office and surviving on caffeine, hanging out for the rest day), “the train” is the group of riders in the HTC Highroad Team who lead out the Manx Missile at the end of each flat stage of the Tour de France.

Confused?

Anyway, about that tunnel …
Some of you may remember my hip replacement 18 months ago, when I posted about the humorous side of the surgery and recovery.

Well the current update is that I (and 9999 others in Australia alone) are looking at having the prosthesis replaced. I won’t go into a lot of detail right now, suffice it to say it has to be done, and reasonably soon.

One of the tests I needed to have was a MRI. Easy you say, just go and have it done. That is what I thought too. First hurdle – the MRI machine here had been broken and when fixed, the queue was rather large … So, as I was going to Adelaide to a birthday party, why not have it done while I was down there?

Great idea; so the plans were made.

I turned up rather enthusiastically at the medical centre and eventually get taken into the room for the MRI. They got me on the table and strapped me in, put on earmuffs to dull the sound (I didn’t know about that – innocent ignorance) and then they started to roll me into the tunnel. My nose wass about 4 cm from the tunnel above me. Wait a minute, it didn’t look like it would be that close when you put me on the table. Oh, you raised it about 50cm after I was on it? And you want me to stay in that tiny tunnel for 40 minutes? And I can’t even see a light at the end of the tunnel? Oh, did I tell you that I am slightly (well I though slightly until then) claustrophobic?

GET ME OUT OF HERE! NOW!

Thank goodness they had given me an exit button! I was removed very quickly. Have you ever been close to anyone who is claustrophobic and put under pressure? mmmmmmm … not a pretty picture.

We all survived. Even the MRI machine.

I didn’t have the MRI. This is not good.

I had an XRay and and ultrasound; but they are not really conclusive and they need a MRI.

There are options. I won’t go into them here, but they seem a bit of overkill to those who aren’t claustrophobic. I am.

Further investigation was required.

After being told the machine here is different, today I was able to visit it and have a “test ride.”

They were correct. It is different and thank goodness, I was able to have my MRI.

Above me there was a tiny light. I just listened to the provided music – stuff I would usually only listen to when I was doing a pretty heavy workout at the gym – watched that light to make sure it wasn’t a train coming through the tunnel to get me (the poor damsel strapped to the track), breathed in and out at regular intervals and survived the experience.

Thank you very much – you know who you are.

Hard week at the grindstone

I do like Google

According to Google, (and it is one of the new New Testament's isn't it?) today is the 119th birthday of the first documented icecream sundae. I wonder did they eat it or just document it. If the discovery had been made here, it would probably have melted before it was documented. Or it may have washed away.












And, last Thursday was the 200th birthday of Robert Bunsen. I would think that anyone who used a science laboratory at school would remember the Bunsen burner. Robert was the co-inventor of the device. He will be remembered for that, whereas he made many significantly more important contributions to science. You can look him up. I am not sure if Robert had a sundae at his birthday party, but I do wonder if he had enough puff to blow out a Bunsen candle.

Well that's it really, isn't it - icecream and a puff of blue smoke?

Cheers Boss! We are with you.

We have a new CE.

The work situation ... ah ... about that

As I have said before, we must maintain the humour; even if the rage takes a break now and then.

Perplexity

I can fly! Truly, I can!

I really don’t want to fly, but over the last (almost) three months I have found humour and even encouragement in the cute little Aussie cartoon which hits my inbox every day.

Sometimes, and I have said this in my blog, I have even felt that the cartoonist has been looking over my shoulder.

A few weeks ago there appeared the following group of cartoons in a mini series. The lead was played by Ding Duck “the world’s worst flying student. After or in spite of 5397 flying lessons at last count, he still can’t fly”.

One would think that people would read, laugh and then move on. But no ... some Swamp watchers decided to offer suggestions to the poor little duck.

Even Ding has encouragers.

Click and read.

http://www.swamp.com.au/dingducksanysuggestionspage.html


I am not running a marathon yet; and there have been times when I have sat in the corner and sucked my thumb, but it seems that, at those times there has been a pick me up from someone. No names as you know who you are. Well maybe you don’t realize the support you have provided. Just as I haven’t always realized the progress I have made and have had to do a few checks and balances to realize.

When you live in the body you are sometimes just too close to notice and it takes those checks and balances or someone to remind you.

As I almost reach the three month mark after a major operation that has become a turning (walking?) point in my life I would like to thank my supporters from all around the world. Who would have thought even a few years ago that you would receive encouragement, get well cards and you can do it cards from places as diverse as my comments and emails have come from.

THANK YOU! And really, it is a small world after all.

Oh, and yes thank you http://www.swamp.com.au/

Please wait ...

I know that I have been a bad correspondent, blogger and, those close to me will probably add, relative, lately!

In the last three months it seems there has have been one blanketty thing after another which has seriously tried to totally upset my equilibrium. It has definitely been shaken, and stirred, but hopefully balance (well, my type of balance anyway!) will return soon.

One day, I may even write about it, hopefully, without risk of serious litigation!

But, for now it will have to be little snippits of humour to keep (me) going.

Any of you who are struggling with teenagers, will probably relate to the cartoon below. Thank you Mr Clark!

(http://www.swamp.com.au/)

click to enlarge

Happy New Year! 2009 is going to be tough

The Prime Minister said to enjoy New Year's Eve, because 2009 is going to be tough.

Ah well! That can often be the case when those who have enjoyed themselves a little too much try to open their eyes and lift their heads!

A couple of bits of humour and the seemingly obligatory fireworks to bear us up.

Let's be positive and 2009 will be OK ... more about that later ... nothing too heavy now.

And please, don't drink and drive ... walk home like Marmaduke or get a tow, ie a sober driver ... don't add to that statistic.

Happy New Year everyone!

(news.com.au google.com.au Brad Anderson & Parker and Hart)

Christmas spin by seasonal political workers

What do I need to say? Yep that's it ... nothin!


















by Thaves
Just click to make it larger.

It aint all Bull here … it’s news from afar

A bull bought for the Muslim Eid al-Adha festival charged through a posh shopping mall in the Bangladesh capital Dhaka, causing panic and damaging several shops. (Was one a china shop?)

No one was hurt in the incident which took place in the city's Gulshan diplomatic area.

Guards captured the bull in a net and handed it back to its owners, police and witnesses said.

Parts of the Bangladesh capital, a city of 11 million people, have turned into cattle markets ahead of Eid on Tuesday, when officials say up to 2.5 million bulls and goats would be slaughtered across the city.

Slaughtering animals and sharing meat with relatives and the poor are mandatory for every Muslim who can afford it.

And here I was, thinking this sort of headline only happened in Darwin newspapers.

(Reuters)

Pass me the binoculars ... Can anyone see the silver lining yet?

Copyright 2008 Swamp Productions Pty Ltd

I am told that patience is a virtue ... I am not feeling all that virtuous at the moment.

A long, long time ago … behind the rusty gate – kissing gouramis and other stories

Once upon a long time ago, in a past life, in a past job, during which I threatened to have a syndicated column called “behind the rusty gate” …

The door bell rang. I walked out to see what adventure was about to unfold (it was usually an adventure of some kind), and was confronted by a older guy, looking a bit the worse for wear. Immediately he cut to the chase, asking if I could take the grille off the top of the ornamental pond, because he had lost something in there last night.

I was curious enough to ask what he had lost; that was where I made my first mistake that day. He informed me that he had lost his teeth! Now, over the years, I had heard some good stories told me at that gate; but this one was the one that made me totally lose the usually calm exterior. I couldn’t say anything, nothing at all, and dashed for cover around the corner and out of sight of the gate. There, leaning against the wall, laughing noiselessly but grasping for the door handle to escape into the office and not be heard, was a holy man who lived behind that rusty gate. One, it would appear whose funny bone was somewhat similar to my own.

I don’t think I even found out what caused his immediate jocularity, well almost hysterics, but I know what caused mine. The pond was quite beautiful, calming water, small water lilies and some fish, happily going about their lives in devotional surroundings. The vision (well it was a holy place, so one could be excused for having visions) that immediately came before my eyes was a kissing gourami swimming along happily in the water and every time he puckered up, he displayed the most beautiful set of white pearlies, which he had discovered the previous night, floating down into the pond, almost like manna from heaven.

Luckily there was a workman on the premises, who didn’t share our (perhaps weird) funny bones, who was able to go back to the gate and discuss the situation with the toothless gentleman.

It was a while before I could re-tell the story without going into peals of laughter; and when I saw this cartoon today the memories came swimming back …
Oh yes, they did get the cover off and search the pond, but no teeth came to light. Memories of exact locations aren’t always that accurate in the light of day, following a heavy night.

ps This one’s for you Frank.

Copyright 2008 Swamp Productions Pty Ltd - http://www.swamp.com.au/

Parliament House, a place of humour … it usually is, isn’t it?

Parliament House was abuzz with laughter on Friday night - fitting for the 20th anniversary of Colin Wicking making Territorians laugh with his cartoons.

Wicking was celebrating 20 years as a cartoonist with the Northern Territory News.

Politicians, business people, public servants and a host of fans gathered to kick off an exhibition of his work and launch his latest book Best of Wicking Volume 4.

Former Administrator Austin Asche officially opened the exhibition with a poem about Wicking and a speech about the danger in taking life too seriously.

He spoke about the Australian sport of lopping tall poppies.

"Some intellectual drongos get very upset about this," he said. "We cut people down to size because it is our national duty to do so, and because it is our greatest defence against tyranny."

Mr Asche said Wicking helped Territorians laugh at themselves.

"It is notorious that, to appear in Wicking, is a sure road to popularity," he said.

Mr Asche said former deputy chief minister Barry Coulter and former chief minister Clare Martin gained 100 extra votes every time Wicking drew them in the NT News.

Wicking took to the podium and welcomed Paul Henderson as the Chief Minister - "just". And Terry Mills as the Opposition Leader - "still".

He said he was harassed only once in his career.

"A woman chased me around the NT News car park with an umbrella," he said. "I knew I was doing something right."

Historian Marilyn McDonnell-Davis said Wicking captured the "feelings of all Territorians".

All works at the exhibition are for sale and proceeds go to Wildcare NT and Total Recreation's Totally Talented Art and Craft Group.

Twenty Years of Wicking will be on display at the Great Hall of Parliament House until August 31. Mon-Fri 10am to 6pm; Sat & Sun 1pm to 5pm. Entry Free!
(Words from News.com)

Wicking has always had total disrespect for everyone; he doesn’t single anyone out or give attention to any group in particular and no-one is safe from his attention.

I think that is the reason I like his humour – everyone is fair game. He does, however, seem to give cats a bad time. But I have been assured that he has a couple of them, so his regular cat harassment could be just because it works, or perhaps he is regularly on the receiving end of disdainful treatment from his resident felines.

He has also been quite keen on targeting women, and below is one of his recent cartoons on that subject.

So, keep up the good work; and all the best for the next 20 years

Elections ... hhmmm

I have been away and missed most of the advertizing for the election, and, thankfully, all of the TV advertizing. This is a good thing.

A fair fight? I wonder.

Politics and Religion ... the importance of being earnest

In less than two weeks the Northern Territory voters go to the polls, to elect their politicians for the next four years.

I am reminded of a story I heard a while ago ...

While walking down the street, a Politician is hit by a truck and dies. His soul arrives in heaven, and he is met by St Peter at the pearly gates.

"Welcome to heaven," says St Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see such a high official around these parts, you see, and so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem," says the Politician, "just let me in,".

"Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from 'on high.' What we do is have you spend a day in hell, and a day in heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity," says St Peter.

"Okay, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven," says the Politician.

"I'm sorry but we have our rules," says St Peter.

And, with that, St Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a club, and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who'd worked with him. Everyone is happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they'd had, while getting rich at the expense of the people. They play a great game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Also present is the devil, who's really a very friendly guy, and joins in the good time, dancing and telling jokes. They're all having such a good time and before he realizes, it is time for him to go. Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator closes.

The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven, where St Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time for you to visit heaven."

So, 24 hours pass, with the politician joining a group of contented souls, moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp, and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by, St Peter returns, and says, "Well, you've spent a day in hell and a day in heaven. Now choose for eternity."

The Politician reflects for a minute, then answers: "Well, I never would have said it before, I mean, don't get me wrong, heaven has been delightful, but I think I'd be better off in hell."

So, St Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors of the elevator open, and he finds he's in the middle of a barren land, covered with waste and debris. He sees all of his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash, and putting it in bags. The Devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder.

"I don't understand," stammers the Politician. "Yesterday there was a golf course and a club; we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, danced, and had a great time. Now there's nothing but a wasteland full of garbage, and my friends look miserable. What happened??"

The Devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted....

There are promises, and then there are promises that might be kept. Try to figure out the difference before you put your mark in the boxes on August 9.

Life of a Ptychosperma macarthurii

Youth: strong and green – standing up and perky.
Maturity: lush and red – but starting to droop.
Old age: dried and grey – gravity has definitely won.

Sort of like us really isn’t it?