Anthony Malloy

Now, I very rarely catch public transport but I’m fairly sure that one of the key points in public transport is letting the passengers off. Otherwise it would be public kidnapping, and that’s not very nice.

The train I was on this morning pulled in to Parliament Station. The lady with her hand on the handle gives it a tug. Little ‘oh, that was too early, silly me’ smile as the door stays shut. A few seconds late and the smile turns in to a ‘I’m not that silly, what’s happening?’ frown. Ten seconds later we are all still gazing at the sticker on the window telling us the carriage is equipped with power doors for our convenience. Bully for it, doesn’t help us when they don’t open. A few seconds later and the train glides majestically out of Parliament; we’re all still on board looking at the bemused faces of those left stranded on the platform. Sigh, a five minute wait at Flinders St and another trip around the loop before I was on my way again.

As for why I was on the train? My car, the trusty old Magna is trusty no more. The transmission is shot – it can’t find any gear above second. I tried to get to work this morning but only succeeded in annoying many people as I bunny hopped up the Westgate freeway. Travelling at 60k’s in a 100k zone is a great way to make people grumpy. So, if anyone has a spare $1300 lying around just drop me a line, I’ll come and collect it.

God bless Google. Late last year they turned on google.com.au without really telling anyone and now they’ve gone one better – their fantastic news aggregation service has been localised for us Aussies atGoogle News Australia. Such dedication to such a relatively small market is to be applauded.

Thanks Google, this news junkie is very impressed.

The High.

The Tigers. I mean, what can you say? We’ve been beaten by Essendon in 9 of our last ten encounters – they are our hoodoo team. But not this year, no siree. With 7 of our best players missing the now Mighty Tiger’s held the once mighty Bombers to one of their lowest scores in a decade. It was ugly football but a win is a win, even more so against the red and the black. By my reckoning the theme song was sung with such gusto it could’ve been heard in Sydney. I floated out to Oakleigh for the hockey on a euphoric sea of happy yellow and black thoughts.

The Lows.

Melbourne Ice were skated off the rink by a Newcastle team chock full of imports. The scores from both games are too embarrassing to list here, check the site later today if you want a laugh/cry. It’s Adelaide next week so hopefully the teams will be more evenly matched.

Western Bulldogs. It was Mothers Day so we took Rae’s mum along to see the Doggies play at Telstra Dome. Not expecting a large crowd they had shut down the top level so we got to sit on the boundary line. This meant we had a magnificent view as Fremantle won their first game in Melbourne for a year and a half. Not only won, but stamped their authority on the game so conclusively it made it look like the Doggies hadn’t even shown up, which in a way they didn’t. The Doggies were booed off the ground at half time and we left at three quarter time. The pain of watching a beloved team being shown up so mercilessly by a team long derided as the ‘Fremantle Shockers’ was too much for Rae. You know the Doggies are in trouble when Rae declares she’s had enough and won’t be going next week.

The Crazy People

CP1.
I turned up at the game on Saturday afternoon and what should I find in front of my seat but a large tapestry bag. It seemed, rather odly, to belong to a ten year old boy sitting two seats up. I sat down and pushed the boy’s bag over to him. Within seconds the real owner of the bag came swooping down. “Excuse me, you can sit whereever you want!” she screeched at me and then, to the now bagless boy, “Give me my bag and come here.”

“I’m sorry, they are reserved seats.” I said most politely.

“NO they’re not. You can sit wherever you want.” she said again and she, her bag and the boy moved back three rows behind me.

I turned around a few minutes later to see she had ben replaced by an elderly couple, now she was at the other end of the row.

I turned around a few minutes after that to see she had now transformed herself into a family group. Where she ended up I do not know, she’s probably still perched on a seat somewhere in bay N10 crowing “It’s mine, mine I tells ya!”

Such undignified behaviour from a Richmond supporter, you’d expect that sort of thing from Collingwood rable but not from the Yellow & Black. Tsk tsk.

CP 2.
CP 2 was at the hockey on Saturday night. Phee, being a 7 year old, tends to fidget and it’s bloody annoying. Fair enough. Apparently Phee had been fidgeting and flicked CP2 in the face with her scarf. CP2 promptly turned to Phee and yelled at her to stop. Phee, being Phee burst in to tears so I swapped seats to sit between Queen Fidget and CP2.

Then, against every bit of better judgement I possess, I had a niggle.

I said, in a suitably loud voice, “Don’t worry Phee – she was just being mean.”

I know, I know, but the lady bugged me with her mean stare and cranky demeanour.

CP2 lets fly and for three minutes it goes to and fro. Phee is milking the attention for all it’s worth, I’m niggling back even though I know I’m grown up now and shouldn’t be, and Rae is trying to be calm.

Eventually CP2’s daughter (who had the off putting habit of referring to a hulking mountain of a skater as ‘Hunny’) dragged the mum away, glared at me in an effort to kill, or at least maim, and order was restored.

So, that’s the weekend in a nutshell. High, lows and crazy people. Who could ask for more?

11.20 on Saturday morning and the free time for the weekend is over already.

I’m just about to head off to see the Tiges demolish Essendon at the ‘G, then it’s in the car and out to Oakleigh to see the Melbourne Ice defeat the North Stars, tomorrow morning it’s breakfast for Mother’s day, then the Doggies v Freo at the most misleadingly named Telstra Dome and then Rae’s mum is coming over dinner. That leaves me with just enough time to iron a shirt and jump in to bed before heading back to work for a rest on Monday.

9 months of heart attack material and that’s it. The Canucks season is over. After getting so close and leading 2-0 in the game the Wild came back and won 4-2.

It’s too depressing to think or talk about right now. NHL hockey is over for the year.

It’s been a great season and lots of fun but now it’s time to say bye ‘nucks, see you in September.

Woo Hoo! Thanks to a great, and surprisingly legal, quirk in my salary packaging I can get reimbursed for home office expenses. Whilst I’ve known this for almost a year now the dots only just joined as I drove to work this morning.

Reimbursement available.
Broadband internet access desired.
Reimburse.
Broadand.

Clink (that’s the sound the light bulb in my home office makes when it goes on)

I can get reimbursed for the expense of connecting to broadband.

Hello Home Plan 512, I look forward to making your acquaintance. Best thing is mum, you’ll be able to get through on the phone while I’m on the net.

We are a house of carnivores. Rae and I love our meat; beef, chicken, lamb, pork – basically anything but rabbit – with mustard, with veggies, with chips, on the barbie, on the George Forman Lean Mean Grilling Machine, roasted, on skewers, in stir fry.

Last night it was steak. Beautiful rare porterhouse steak with chips and steamed veggies. Then came warning sign #1.

“I love this meat.” says Phee. Instantly we know trouble is on the horizon for as soon as Phee starts talking about her dinner it means she’s about to stop eating it.

Two chips and a bit of broccoli later.

“Where does this meat come from?” asks Phee.

“Cows.” we reply.

“From a farm?” comes the wavering voice as she pokes a bit of dead cow on her plate.

“Yep. Just like the meat in your cheeseburger. It’s beef from a cow.”

This leads to only a temporary pause as Phee decides that we are wrong about cheeseburgers but what’s on her plate in front of her does come from a cow.

“It’s wrong to grow a cow to eat it.” and the (crocodile) tears begin to well.

Oh boy. She’s 7. She can’t get the hang of yesterday/today/tomorrow but she’s concerned about cow welfare. Sorry Phee, but until you can cook your own lentils you’re going to have to eat what we eat. Even if it is from a cow from a farm.

I just updated Agendus on my Palm (they offered me 15%, the dollar is high, how could I say no?). I go to enter my registration code and this is the first lot of letters – UJERK.

Sigh.