Tonight I have introduced my children to the joy that is Indiana Jones. 

Raiders of the Lost Ark up first.  
They have a connection given their strong churchy upbringing. They know the story of the Ark of the Covenant. They’ve also played many hours of the Lego game version of the movie, so pretty much knew what was going to happen.

I was a bit concerned with the fright, horror aspects of the movie, but children of this era are a little more conditioned to ‘bad, scary things’ than when I was their age.

Which brings me to a memory that is still strong today.

All those years ago, I got to see Raiders in the theatre. (Regent, Palmerston North, if you must know). I recall thoroughly enjoying the movie. The story. The characters.

And then the scene on the Steamer. Indi and Marion. With the Mirror.  You know it. 

It was at this precise point in the movie that my Dad, accompanied by an usher with a torch, entered the theatre searching for me. Light in everybody’s faces. One by one. Row by row.

So he could take me to a swimming lesson. 

I’ve never forgiven him.

It’s been a bit of a process, but I’ve cut the cord. I’ve switched to a Fibre connection, and dropped Sky and my home phone.

It took a bit of pros and cons detailing, but ultimately I simply don’t need those services, and as such I’m saving $100 per month.

Not bad.

I do have some questions over the communication between Vodafone and Chorus though. Some basic systems and processes simply aren’t working.
Initially Vodafone were great. Sorted out my service option quickly and painlessly. Email and text follow-ups were top-notch. 

That’s when it got weird.

I was told that I’d need to get permission from my landlord and from my neighbours. I was ok with this. I was told that on Monday I’d get a site visit in which Chorus would determine what needed to be done so I could inform anyone.

Monday came. Nope, not a site visit. Chorus set up the fibre for install.

Ok. 

Next, I was informed that my router was on its way. It never arrived and got sent back to Vodafone. I found this out when I called Vodafone to locate it. They said if it didn’t arrive, to call them Thursday ahead of a Friday installation so they could make sure the installer had one in their van.

Thursday came. I was contacted by Chorus to confirm installation on Friday afternoon. But at this point I still hadn’t been asked for landlord or neighbour details for their permission. I’m a little concerned. Called Vodafone, and they confirmed installation for Froday afternoon and that the router would be onboard. Ok…

Friday morning, Chorus called confirming installation for that morning…

I deferred them to the afternoon as I’d discussed and planned.
12:30pm, and the installation went smoothly until Chorus asked for the router…

Hmmmm. 

Happily, they managed to locate one in the van of a nearby colleague, and I’m up and running.

So I don’t know. There is something seriously wrong with how Vodafone and Chorus talk to each other but we got there in the end. 

The Chorus guys were great. The Vodafone team were great. It’s just that the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing.

Am I a happy customer? Yes. I’ve got great speeds and Netflix. I don’t think I’ll miss Sky. I’ll get Freeview set up at some stage but I’m still marathoning How I Met Your Mother. 

I’ll survive. And well.

There’s a lot of discussion around the impending Bali 9 executions and my current thinking is that I’m ok with it.

Heroin Smugglers. Not only impacting the lives of the 7 mules (and how many others?) and their families, but the lives of those destined to purchase, inject and sell themselves to obtain more. Sure, they may have been reformed and found Jesus in prison, but they knew the consequences if they were caught. And they were. It’s easy to feel remorse about your actions if there is no alternative.

People. Don’t screw with Indonesia if you’re into drugs. A word from the wise.

Which brings me to the piece of excrement currently before our courts, charged with murdering Blessie Gotingco.

If even a fraction of the Prosecution’s case is accurate, then surely this is a valid case for NZ to have the death penalty. If he did these horrific things, why on earth should we pay $80k each year for the next 40-50 years to keep him alive? He’s decided that the rules and expectations of our society don’t apply. He has contempt for life. So why should he be given his?

Sure, we can tell ourselves that not having a death penalty in NZ somehow makes us a more evolved and humane society and as such we can look at other nations with a large degree of judgement, but in this case, I believe, if he is guilty, then he doesn’t deserve to live, and our collective sense of smug can fuck off.

I’ve been in business for myself for a little over three years now. I’ve achieved what I set out to achieve, and apart from having to work through what has been a fairly challenging last 10 months, it’s been rewarding.

I’ve worked out what it is I like doing and what I don’t like doing. What I’m good at and what I’m not so good at. And the things I’m not so good at, I practice and learn and refine.

Which brings me to a crossroads.
Is this what I am best suited to do? Is it what I want for the rest of my life? 

What is my future? If I had no attachments and no constraints, what would I be doing?

I have some ideas. The amorphous blob of dreams is slowly coalescing. And the order of next steps is being determined.

Interesting times are afoot.

^sd

Every now and then Miss 9 gets the idea in her head that doing some cooking might be fun.

This has led, in the past, to events such as the ‘hand up the chicken’s bum’ episode, which has provided much levity since.

Today she was talking up her skills at making cheese sauce for macaroni and cheese. I’ve not seen her do this before, so the challenge was set.

And you know what? She is actually really good at making cheese sauce. She’s not a fan of adding seasoning or those additional spices that give it a bit of zing, and wouldn’t let me sneak them in.

She wasn’t interested in assembling the finished product though. “I just said I’d do the sauce”, so she missed out on the joy of sprinkling breadcrumbs, grating butter etc.

Still, the final result was great. And as she was involved in the creation, she ate without fuss. 

Master 12 wasn’t interested in helping. He is going to be a challenge. 

Looking back over the somewhat concerning length of my life thus far, I wish I developed a passion for food and learning to cook beyond ‘meat, potatoes and Westie-veges’ well before I turned 40. 

^sd

A few years after setting up a U.S. Netflix account and then letting it go (due to having to use a VPN and the fact that I hated the television experience on my MacBook), when it arrived in NZ I decided to revisit it.

Having an app on my PS3 made the decision easy.

And all I can say is wow. It’s actually pretty bloody good. A tonne of content suitable for me, as well as content for my kids. And they love it. It’s so much better having them watch movies and shows without all the adverts on Disney Channel or Nickelodeon .

Now I face a challenge. To keep Sky TV or not? It’s a tricky one. Well, actually it’s getting less tricky. 

Sports content is the key. Yes, I enjoyed watching back-to-back World Cup cricket. And yes, I’ll probably enjoy watching the Rugby World Cup… Or will I? I’ve gotten so utterly bored with rugby over the last few years, and with the performance of the Blues (was their win this weekend a blip or the start of something?) being awful, I’m just not that invested. Will Netflix do a deal for sports? Does their model support that? Or are other live streams coming? I’m sure Sky will be working on a subscription model for their content which will suit.

I’m glad the technology has reached the point where it is straightforward. Of course, I may need to purchase a new TV to maximise the benefit. And fibre. 

Good times are ahead.

Oh God, where do I start?

http://www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/news/67473960/st-bedes-college-parents-win-interim-court-injunction

This story just pisses me off. 

A school absolutely has to have the right to make a call when their students either break the law or bring the school into dispute or both, as has occurred here.

The parents of these boys are pretentious twats, raising precious pretentious twats.

Grr.

Four and a half years ago I went to a new Doctor. I had this idea that it probably would be a good idea with all the conversation about Men’s Health etc.

Forgot to renew my relationship with the clinic a couple of years ago. You know? Life gets busy and me being a fairly typical fella, thinks “nothing feels off so I’ll be fine eh”?

Then 82 yr old father decides to obsess about my skin and insisted on my going to get things checked out.

So I did.

Nothing wrong with skin, a few things to have a look at with respect to middle-aging. 

Had an ECG today to check that business also. Had a very chatty nurse. Right up until the machine spat out my results…

She went very quiet so I asked her if I should just lay there quietly until the ambulance arrived…

Everything is ok apparently. But sometimes bedside manner can be disconcerting.

So, onwards and upwards. May have to adjust some aspects of lifestyle. Won’t be too difficult.

Probably should make an effort to visit the Doctor more often. 

And no rectal prostate examination yet. Bonus.

A week or so ago I wrote about how my Aunt had died and none of my family bothered to tell me.

I wrote how I felt isolated.

It’s compounded this week. In the middle of last year I was going through a challenging time and reached out to my family for support. They all dutifully replied by email offering thoughts, prayers and bible verses of encouragement. (To be fair, my brother did call and was practically helpful).

But since August 1 I’ve not heard from any of them. No contact asking how I was. To make sure I was ok.

I caught up with my sister and brother-in-law yesterday. They were most apologetic about the lack of communication. Apology accepted. 

Then at the end of the conversation, my sister mentioned that they’d talked amongst themselves about the possibility I may be suicidal. *

No one picked up the phone to check.

Unbelievable.

I’m not sure how to respond to this. I’m a bit grief-filled. A bit ragey. A bit resolved that I have to do things myself and push the family away.

Sigh.

* I’m not at all suicidal, for the record.

I had an interesting and fun conversation with my kids today. They’re 12 and 9 for the record.

We were discussing ghosts.

Whether they were real.
Why they’d haunt houses.
What the purpose of them sticking around this plane of existence.
What types of ghosts there were.

This got me thinking. Out loud of course.

I’d quite like to be a ghost. And haunt my kids. I informed them that I’d like to come back as a poltergeist. And move things around.

They worked out that my OCD would be problematic for my haunting. That they’d leave their houses, and come back to find I’d moved everything back to their correct places, and tidied everything up.

Sigh.

^sd