Tuesday, July 31, 2012

A Love Story

Is that how it is for us blokes (and sheilas as well); man and the machine?
We spend a great deal of time thinking up these monsters and then we become so attached to them we can't let them go, even when they have well passed their use by date.
For some its hard to part with the smell of grease and burning coal. Its even harder to part with the memories.
I watched as he fondled and patted his pet, caressed its curves and stroked its steam laden pipes. He does it all day for no more reward than that of a promised return tomorrow. He and the machine will be no closer to completion at the end of the day. For 50 years he did this. Then he retired and his heart died until he could find her again and be close once more. This is truly a love story.


The path of individualism is strong among the youth. During those formidable adolescent years each young person will strive to find their place where they can be seen and recognised for what they are; unique human beings with a will and destiny to be fulfilled. Gone are the pre-pubescent days when following the crowd was acceptable, almost necessary. That was a time of learning through mimmicry, seeking the mentor in an older sibling, deriving recognition from conformity, being one of the crowd. Now the crowd has dispersed and each must stand alone, a statement of independence, a new voice among the roar of the 'madding crowd's ignoble strife'. Individuality comes in many guises and manifests itself in equally as many forms. Expectations are great among peers. One must belong and be unique. It is a challenge. Not everyone succeeds. Those who do, blend in nicely. To the outsider, the difference may be barely noticeable. Individuality can be subtle.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Modern dreaming

We will often find we are where we do not want to be. Then we dream; new places, new life, new fortunes, new future, new present. Even the past is dreamed in a new night, a different light. Everything fits. Nothing is left unfinished, the sun shines the air is clear and fresh, and the garbage never needs taking out.
There is a time for dreaming. It is when you are asleep. The rest of the time keep a clear view through your umbrella so you don't step in a puddle. Dreaming with wet feet is not recommended

Crossing the line

Are you game? Go on, just a bit further. You want to, I know you do. Quick, while no-one is looking. You deserve it. More than anyone. More than him anyway. It's yours for the taking. It's not like he needs it. No-one needs it more than you. All your life you've worked hard to get what you need and now it's time to take what you want. It's always been you at the end of the line, last to be fed, missing the bus, too late for the last chance. You gave in. You gave it away. You let it go. You lost your chance. Now there is a new chance and you can take it.
That's enough. You wouldn't want to go too far, would you.


How much patience we need to get to where we are going. The waiting room, the queue, the departure, the arrival, the time in between. Next please. Wait here. Move along, your turn is coming. We are doing the best we can to ensure your safe arrival. Come back tomorrow. We will be ready for you then. There isn't room for you yet, did you make an appointment? The doctor is busy. Everyone is on holidays. Try that counter, fill in this paperwork, pay your dues, collect the token. Here, while you wait you could be doing something else.
What else is there but to wait?

Saturday, July 21, 2012


When we place one foot in front of the other we expect the ground beneath to be firm and yet forgiving. We find the shade of a tree will provide shelter from the searing midday sun, the cooling of a breeze to ease the pain in our head, the strength of a crooked stick to support our aging bones.
Without some expectation we seemingly have no future, no rest from the angst of doubt, no reality to face tomorrow. We base the outcomes of the future on what we have experienced in the past. Like the cliches they are, we expect the sun to rise, the rain to stop and the apple tree to bare fruit.
Yet there is one expectation we often deny ourselves; that of death. Without it there is no life but with it we see an end, an expectation we would prefer to live without. That itself is a dilemma and contradiction we find unexpectedly at the end for all of us.
So what do we do? We learn to live with it. As the man walks forward, shaded by the trees and cooled by the breeze, he lives as he expects; with life before and end. It is the life we live, not the death. Keep walking with expectation and caution.

Sunday, July 15, 2012


Just when you thinks its safe to turn right
Turn left.
Breathe in not out; whisper, not shout, Disgression not flout
Build a bridge not swim or walk
Don't sit, get fat
Keep a toad not a cat, be nice; twice
Sing in the street when there's no-one around
Act the clown, wear red, in bed
Carry a spade you had hand made; in Buxton not Spain
Talk really fast about bottles and last weeks news
Poke your finger in pies and old ladies eyes
Then wink at the girls and pat the boys
On the bum for some then giggle when you read the obituary
Never say please or thank the attendent who wants your ticket
Be wicked and smile, then fart and be vile.
Then when you least expect
Turn right not left.

How sure are you?

How sure are you? Step in front of a fast moving train and there’s a more than fair chance you’ll not survive to tell the story o...