Onto the World Series.
Wicked vans are your cheapie rentals for backpackers to self drive around Australia. They pride themselves on being outrageous and edgy with their graffiti like paint jobs. More and more, the slogans they are painted with are misogynistic and offensive. One couple decided to repaint their van…And it’s brilliant.
I spent today unpacking more boxes and came across my Star Wars library. I haven’t added to it for a while, so there’s some gaps for sure, but I was surprised how much I remembered about each new twist in the Universe. I loved Timothy Zahn’s stories and the X-wing series was a joy.
My hope for the future is that Disney doesn’t cash in with a cartoonish fluff piece that doesn’t mesh with the novels already written around the original trilogy. ** For the benefit of young players, that’s episodes 4-6, not 1-3.
Some of the best sci-fi writers around have fleshed out generations of interaction, plot twists and tragedies faced by the characters we all know and love – I hope Disney will respect those.
And in case any Disney peeps see this, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t make “Vector Prime” until I’m ready. I bawled my eyes out for days when I read that – I couldn’t bear to see it happen.
We had the chance to race out of the office to catch the All Blacks signing session in the Queen St mall this morning. Tomorrow night is the third Bledisloe Cup match (Australia vs New Zealand in rugby union) – a tournament within a tournament (the Four Nations ‘Rugby Championship’) and it’s meant to be the best of its kind.
Bledisloe games should be the best running rugby around but I’m sad to say that I don’t reckon the Aussies are up to the contest. The forwards don’t get going forward, the backs can’t cover, the play makers are swamped and the number of players out with injury is ridiculous. And don’t get me started on the coach! The All Blacks are gonna steamroll us and then some.
I’ll always hope Australia wins (or at least plays good rugby), but there’s something impressive about the way the NZ team go about their sport. Even the fans are experts on the game – no really – you have to go a fair way to find a deadset arsehole who rips into Australian fans for no reason.
Today was Mothers Day down under. The second Sunday of May. It’s a beautiful drive out to where my parents live – takes around an hour and a half. Coffees in keep cups, pressies and flowers on the back seat and we hit the road early. We time it so we’re just in time for a cuppa…once we get past the big puppy.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who thinks my mum is the sweetest woman in the world, but I’m the only one who’s right 🙂 She must be amazing to have raised such fine kids – ha!
Here’s to the women who raised us – no matter what title you give them. I hope you got to give yours a hug too.
It’s been a long week. I didn’t even realise until yesterday that this weekend is a long with the Monday a public holiday for … Labor Day? Ironic really, given the result of the state election held last month. Labor Day reminds me of the story of the traveller who stopped at the tree in the outback – the one with the $5m art installation and shed build around it. $5m for that but the locals don’t have a dentist. Says everything really.
This is my favourite photo from when I was in Gallipoli in 1997.
A bus full of Aussie and Kiwis poured out at each memorial site within the National Park. We didn’t have a guide to go around the 10 or so sites we endeavoured to get to – but then we didn’t really need a guide. We all grew up with the stories of these places. On the bus was the time to share with each other what we’d learned from childhood onwards about places called The Nek, Lone Pine, and Shrapnel Valley.
Once the bus stopped, there was no talking. Everyone scattered. Lots stood quietly, walking the tracks in silence. We tidied the graves as we went – picking out weeds, chipping of bird droppings, using our drinking bottles to water the plants that other visitors had planted previously. At two stops we searched for the grave stones of family.
One of our first stops was Anzac Cove. It was such a beautiful day. The sun shining, birds were chirping. The only thing missing was a bunch of kids skylarking in the water. You could have heard a pin drop, until Scotty started playing the “kiwi lament” on his harmonica. Awesome. Haunting. Extraordinarily touching.
We were running out of time as there’s a curfew on the Park access. We voted to skip a few places so we could make it up to Chanuk Bair – the New Zealand memorial. It’s a stunning memorial. It is also one of the few that still has maintained trenches at the site. The sun was starting to set so we had to go. This is when the boys in particular didn’t want to leave. A lot of bartering and maneuvering was attempted with the bus driver to come back in the morning and pick up those who wanted to sleep rough on the hill. No go. Such a wrench to leave – no one was ready to go.
Lest we forget.