alice

good advice.

maybe if i'd listened earlier i wouldn't be here.

but that's just the trouble with me.

i give myself very good advice

but i very seldom follow it.

that explains the trouble that i'm always in.

'be patient'

is very good advice

but the waiting makes me curious.

and i'd love the change should something strange begin.

well i went along my merry way

and i never stopped to reason.

i should've known there'd be a price to pay some day.

i give myself very good advice

but i very seldom follow it.

will i ever learn to do the things i should?

- alice in wonderland -

i've never been lost in a wood

with birds that cry.
you probably haven't either.

but i have been lost in other more metaphorically-shaped places.

and what i have learnt from alice & life is that

someone else should be on hand for all important decisions

(and some of the not important decisions as well)

to make sure that i get out of those metaphorical woods.
and home in time for dinner.

i struggle to make a decision in a food court.

i always feel like i know what i want.

but then i ignore the first voice of wisdom

and i choose something else instead.

usually something a bit weirder. 

a bit more greasy.

a bit less appropriate.

i definitely should not be left alone with life

unsupervised.

or i will always end up buying the chicken macaroni 

(claggy & orange)

from the indian takeaway shop.

i would trust this owl to sit on my shoulder
and help me with the decision making.

he would make me listen a bit harder to the first voice
and ignore all the other ones.
because the first voice is nearly always right.
but the last voice is always the one i follow.

i just go along my merry way.

and i never stop to reason.

not until it's too late, anyway.

will i ever learn to do the things i should?
says alice.


the end.

some thoughts on oldness

there is an 'assisted living' home around the corner from the pub i work at. 

so i see a lot of old people.

there is bernard

who calls from his bed for a six pack of carlton draught

and only wants it to be delivered by young, handsome men.

there is the lady with the tiara

who leaves presents for us in the toilet.

coat hangers, hair clips, cleaning products,

a lamp shade, a shoe, a notebook 

detailing all of the public toilets she has used in the city of melbourne.

there is john.

who was from northern ireland once

and drank a lot of whiskey.

now he drinks vodka, neat, like water

so the nurses can't smell it on his breath.

there was ted

with the crooked spine

who was very angry that his son had taken all his money and abandoned him 

in south melbourne with all the other old people.

(ted is now dead.)

there was hundred and two year old man

with his sydney swans scarf

who shouted at me because i don't wear a watch

and shouted at me when he fell over and he didn't want my help.

(hundred and two year old man is also now dead)

there is joan

who looks like she is made from dough.

her voice is just a whisper now

and her laugh rattles with phleghm

but she still hands over fifteen dollars ninety for a pack of peter stuyvesants

(the light blue ones)

even though she tells me she's not allowed anymore.

i'm not going to be the one to say no.

and there is ian

who does daily laps of clarendon st

(the cricket club, the limerick, max brenner's, seven eleven,

but definitely not the french cafe down the end, 

oh no, not since it was taken over by indians)

ian likes cider and being racist

and spitting out food

and my breasts.

and they make me sad.

all of them.

some of them have families

and some of them have families who still visit them.

but as far as i can tell

this place that they are in

(and i don't just mean the hostel)

well it is not where i want to end up.

it's like they have been put away 

to get old and unpleasant 

and lose their grip on the bodies and the brains that have carried them 
through the last sixty, seventy, eighty years.

lose their grip in a place where they will inconvenience and offend

as few people as possible.

i'm not judging.

and i don't have the answers.

(i'm not even very nice to ian these days -
with all the racism and the spitting it's just too hard
so who am i to judge?)

i'm just saying it makes me sad.

michael parkinson was on channel nine the other night

talking about an interview he did with professor jacob bronowski 

in nineteen seventy something

when professor jacob bronowski was what we would call

an old person.

michael parkinson finished the interview by asking him

why we should listen to anything that he said.

and professor jacob bronowski said this:

"should you listen to me?

yes, you should.

not because you have to believe a single thing i say

but because you have to be pleased that there are people who have lived 

happy and complete lives,

who feel they can speak out of a full heart and a full mind

all in the same frame."

that is the kind of old person i would like to be,

if i get a say.

full heart. full mind.

somebody still worth listening to.

beans (the less human kind)

a catalogue of beans

broad

baked

magic

mister

coffee

cocoa

kidney

soy

sean

shiny

mung

bile

frances

jelly

bush

the end.

things people say at the cricket club hotel (part one)

"i wish there was a way of making 

radioactive beer 
that glows 

and it isn't bad for you."

the statesman

interesting fact for the day?

there are at least sixteen amateur superheroes

fighting crime under the cover of darkness

across britain today.

introducing birmingham's masked crusader

(and my new favourite human) 

"the statesman"

the facts:

 scott cooke

twenty six years old

sixteen stone

drives a fiat punto

works for a bank doing things with savings and investments

tells his girlfriend keri that he is playing poker on the 

four nights a week that he gets busy doing his bit to 

fix the world

says the statesman:
"the statesman is an ambassador. 

he’s a diplomat. 

and he’s somebody who delivers a message. 

something that’s meaningful and something that's positive.

i've read comics all my life.

i'm a life long geek.

and i don't want to live in a world where there are 

muggers and rapists.

i want to live in a world where there are cool superheroes running around doing nice things for people."

the statesman's arsenal:

first aid kit

torch to startle burglars

notepad and sharpie to write down important information

mobile phone to call the police

black zorro mask and glue

"the whole point of going out there in the short term, it’s just to try and help anybody. 

i mean there isn’t a criteria. 

most of the time i seem to spend my time 

helping guys who live rough, people who live on the streets, giving them some aid, 

giving them some help and support 

that they either don’t want or don’t know how to find by themselves."

"i'm there to help anybody that i can help. 

if there's a broken down car, if there's a runaway dog, 

if there's people being hassled by drunks at kicking out time. anything that i can do that is useful, 

that will make somebody happier, 

that’s what i'm there to do."

what i don't understand, statesman,

is the reaction to you in the media.

people throwing around words like 'vigilante' 

and 'fruitcake' 

and 'naive loser' 

and 'tubby ginger bloke who dresses like he's in the BNP'.

general consensus seems to be

that it's only a matter of time before you get stabbed

by a drug dealer,

and that when you do,

and you're bleeding inconveniently all over the streets

(and wasting the time and resources of

police and paramedics -  

the professional superheroes with proper uniforms)

well,
 you'll only be getting what's coming to you.

idiots.

as far as i can tell

you spend most of your time giving out bread and blankets

and hugging homeless people.

so who are we to laugh
and call you names
and dismiss you as a lunatic

just because you choose to do these noble things in a funny outfit?

homeless receiver of a blanket and a hug says: 

"I like the idea of the statesman going out and helping 

and putting things about and stuff like that. 

yeah I think its cool."

yep.
way cool!

because i too want to live in a world where there are superheroes running around doing nice things for people
in the middle of the night.

so keep it up, statesman.

you're excellent.

and i'll leave the last word to you.

"the only way that we're ever gonna have 
the world we want

is just for everybody to take some 
responsibility for that."


(sources - the sun and the daily mail.
they printed it so it must be true.)