An Open Letter to LittleFoot

Hi LittleFoot,

I've been meaning to write this for a few months now and am sorry its taken me this long. You're in a dark place at the moment and I should have done more to throw you a torch, and for that I'm sorry. I'm stuck in the middle of this but as you pointed out, that might also be the best position to comment. We talked the other night and I think it helped, but if you need reminding I'll try to set out my thoughts here. Remember that a lot of this is based on guess-work, you were the one who was actually there.

Okay, point number one: it happened. It wouldn't have happened unless there were reasons. Whether either or both of you want to talk about those reasons after the fact is up to the individual. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it? Even if he does, then you need to remember that you cannot just talk it out. This isn't something that can be fixed with words alone. Questions about where things went wrong, talking over fond memories, expressions of love- none of these will magically make things better. They might even make things worse as you could seem to be pining.

You need to stop looking for hidden meaning behind actions. Everything is just one thing happening after another. Everything we do is a spur of the moment decision. If he wanted to see you or got you a nice gift- there was no agenda- these happened because he wants you to be happy. And he does want you to be happy. But he can't make you happy and so every time you see him it will just keep making you sad. This is why I think it's a good idea not to see him for a while.

Remember that a decision left too long is made for you. If he can't give you an answer then you cannot wait around until one appears. You need to get on with it. You are both seeing other people now. If things fall back into place one day then all to the good but it won't happen if you argue every time you see one another. And also, please avoid comparing yourself to people he sees- it's a completely pointless exercise- you know this.

It was a very long relationship but if you didn't fit together after that amount of time then you need to realise that means you possibly never will. And by 'fit together' I'm not just talking about the good times, you also need to remember the other stuff. The things you didn't like will always be there too.

I know you're hurting right now but it will get better. I'm sounding like a broken record here but all it takes (and all you can give it) is distance and time.

Remember that we're thinking of you and if you need to talk to someone then we're a call away.

Love,
Your friends

My Lucky Charms

Sometimes, when I'm in alot of pain for one reason or another, I wonder what would happen if I died. I'm not really worried about it for my own sake, not to sound macho or fatalistic, I'm just... not worried at the time. But I do worry that I'll leave something unsaid to those I love. When that happens I'll thumb out an unsent SMS to my parents before I go to sleep, just in case I don't wake up.

What? You don't do that? I think it's practical.

But it is a little unfair. What about everyone else?

If Karma exists and there really is a great set of scales in the sky ensuring we all get our dues via some sort of cosmic reckoning, even across reincarnated lifetimes, then I must have done something fucking amazing in a previous life. I must have! There is no other explanation for why I have been so fortunate in my friends.

On meeting new people I usually revert to the quiet, introverted, idiotic kinda guy that I was in high school. This is why I generally don't like meeting new people. What should I say? "So what have you been doing since... forever?" or "Hi! I collect ears in a bucket"... I can never decide. And yet despite this, I have managed to gather around me a group of people who hung on long enough to see the quiet, introverted, idiotic kinda guy I really am. Or maybe they just didn't run away quick enough. Or the poor bastards were related to me and didn't have a choice. "I pity the fool..."

I vaguely remember a Japanese proverb that went something like "Self worth is like a butterfly on your back- even if you can't see it, your friends are there to describe it for you." I've always battled with self-esteem issues and this little gem often comes to mind when my friends step up and slap me around the head for bleeding self-pity. I just hope I've been there to do the same when they were feeling particularly useless or that they considered me an option if they simply needed an ear.

And just in case I haven't... If I am gone tomorrow I want you to know that, in my own way, I cared. Even if I wasn't very good at expressing it.

This isn't a drunken shout out of "I love you guys". But I do.

A date that hasn't happened yet

We went to dinner and I was nervous. The alcohol didn't help.
I saw my koan, 'relax', fall over like a rigid board; ponderous and with a flat thud.
Caressing the ground rather than slapping it.
Maybe you didn't hear it because you were calm and expectant.

You chose the wine and said some words like 'nutmeg' and 'rosemary' and I said 'white'.
We talked about music and family and tried each others food.
The eggplant was my favorite and the fish in the buttery sauce was yours.
I noticed I like the way you had your hair cut and when you smiled I felt I'd done something right.
I started grinning in sympathy.

I told you about the time I was bombarded by a Salmon, you told me about how you broke your kid brothers arm.
I can't remember how they're connected.
We decided to have desert down at the pancake place.
I took your hand to lead you through a crowd waiting outside a pub.
We kept holding hands as we walked.

Where to tread?

Being neurotic in Sydney is interesting. I have at least 10 opportunities every day to meet new people. People? Excuse me, I mean women, male applicants may apply elsewhere. Anyway, 10 opportunities... and I pass every single one of them by with a blank, indifferent stare. And why? Because who wants to be that crazy guy who makes eye contact with people on the street?

It's second person time... You're walking along, minding your business, thinking about that chicken that needs cooking, or that time you stuck your finger in a blender and then BAM! Someone is looking at you. Into your eyes so it catches your attention. You look up, ready to greet some old mate you've bumped into on the street, but then... nothing... a complete stranger is looking you in the eye wearing a funny grin. It is at this point that you start shaking your head to refuse whatever it is they're selling. Or maybe you turn into a wolf and tear their fucking throat out for challenging your authority. Yeah... do that.

So, instead of talking to people on the street, I'll be that awkward looking guy who you can feel staring at you, while somehow, never quite actually looking at you. I really do have this down to an art-form. Yesterday I was standing at the bus stop with a bored expression and a thousand yard stare across the street, the girl standing next to me did a double-take twice to check my eyes and I almost wet myself. It must be pre-tty creepy.

So other options? Meeting people at the pub... This is next to impossible. Pubs are for hanging out with your mates. If a mate introduces you to someone then all to the good. But otherwise people just don't want to know. And I understand this, were I at a pub with friends and some dude tried to latch onto us we'd probably bar him faster than Kan-tong cooking (okay, maybe not that fast) unless he was the perfect blend of humble enthusiasm, style and chemistry. And people like that do not talk to people like us.

Clubbing? People don't meet clubbing. Not the people I want to meet anyway.

This leaves sport, dancing, cooking classes, random recreational activities (eg. parkour or orienteering) or book clubs...

I'll let you know how they turn out.

Deliverance

I just got back from the gym.

Let that sink in for a second.

It is a completely mundane sentence describing a completely mundane event... But to my ears it is sweet, sweet music.

Don't get me wrong. I hate the gym. It is exercise devoid of any purpose other than aesthetics. There is no fun to be had there. It smells of old sweat, new farts and ever-present armpits. Plus the people are all fitter than me, and those that aren't are stronger. And I'm weak and scrawny, where I'm not round and bouncy... and there are mirrors everywhere! In short... it rates slightly higher that an orange-juice enema on my personal list of fun things to do.

So why am I so pissed off that I haven't been able to go for the last 6 months?

Because the afterglow is awesome. Being there is like finger-nails screeching down the black-board of my soul. But afterwards I feel like I've done something. Something worthwhile. For my entire teens I ignored my body. I did what I wanted (ie. nothing), ate what I wanted (ie. crap) and was oblivious to the fact that there even were consequences. "I'll get fit eventually" was an often coined thought. Well, my friends, "eventually" arrived some time last year and I was playing sport, gyming regularly, eating well, losing weight... then BAM... "You have Ankylosing Spondylitis" says the good Doctor.

That, for those of you who don't know (I didn't), is this cool kind of arthritis that slowly fuses the bones in your spine together over a period of about 30 years until you are eventually walking around with a bamboo pole in your back. Yeah, I was pretty excited too. Early stages manifest themselves in back stiffness, massive loss of sleep and basically a whole butt-load of pain. I was considered, and I quote, "a textbook case". Mmm promising... Traditionally the condition has been treated with steadily stronger anti-inflammatory drugs, and this has met a limited degree of success. I have been on some pretty heavy ones for about 6 months and while they actually let me sleep, I still couldn't get out of bed without some serious elbow leverage.

But then an Angel, in the form of my Rheumatologist Professor Patrick McNeil, said unto me:

No, that is not the way.
We shall put you on this new improved drug
that has only just come out and is really good.
You'll need to fill out all these forms
and do exercises for 3 months
and do all this other nonsense.
But persevere, have faith,
and your time will come

And I did all of these things and lo, a prescription arrived. And Humira was its name.

6 months of pain. Starting in my back. Moving to my shoulder and then my neck. No sleep. No mobility.

How long did it take to fix this?

2 DAYS!


So now I'm going to get fit again and try Parkour... and possibly break myself all over again.
But if I don't try now I may never get another chance. And I know that I will try everything I can while I have a body that works.

Sometimes, as clichéd as it sounds, you really don't know what you have until it's gone. So I suggest you go out and try something that you have been meaning to. I'll see you there... unless it's at the bloody gym.

You're unique. Just like everyone else.

Around 8 months ago a friend of mine, the Gent, joined an online dating service. He went on a few dates here, a few dates there. If he'd really wanted to I'm sure he could have shagged a different girl every weekend but that wasn't his game.

I discussed his progress with him pretty regularly as the whole idea was a bit taboo to me. I thought internet dating sounded like the last refuge of the desperate, but he lent the whole process an air of dignity that I had not hitherto associated with it.

Like a sheep I decided to jump on board. What, really, was there to lose? Okay, maybe a little self-respect when I admitted to myself that finding a girl through more conventional methods was a little difficult. But I already knew that. And at least I was doing something constructive about it.

I went on a couple of dates. The first, a little uninteresting. The second, the girl sounded like a legend online and so I mind-spasmed when I met her... yah... it wasn't pretty. Oh well. Then I crippled myself about 5 months ago and decided I didn't want to meet anyone while I was moving around like an old man. So I turned off my profile.

...

I never said it was going to be an interesting story.

...

I did learn a few interesting things though.

The online dating game has a whole subset of language associated with it, much like the real estate game, everyone is trying to sell themselves, be quirky, be edgy, be cool. Be completely fucking generic! It's painful to read some of this stuff. Like "I am a compassionate, open-minded person who likes hanging out with friends and having a good time"... what does that mean exactly? How is that helpful in differentiating you from, hmm say, every other 20-something on the planet? I despair at how completely and utterly unimaginative people can be when talking about themselves.

And yes, I understand that it's just a stupid tiny little insignificant blurb on the gigantic network of daily interactions, emotions and woven grace that is a human life. I get the fact that people don't want to give too much away, scare off the customers by pointing out the dents, leave some mystery to be explored later. But you have to give something. I don't care how smokin' hot you are, a picture of yourself and a list of music you like¹ will not generate more than passing interest at a reasonable glam shot² and disappointment at how boring you are.

The whole point of using an online service is that you can interact with others virtually anonymously. So everyone can see a photo of you and a user name... so what? The chances you'll randomly run into or even recognise each other on the street are infinitesimal! And unless you choose otherwise, someone you contact may only ever learn your first name. The problem is that many users don't seem to realise that this anonymity exists or the wonderful gift it grants them. And that is the ability to be totally, ruthlessly honest about themselves.
Lets say you're a little crazy (and if you're reading this I'd say it's a safe bet) but you edit this out of your profile, 'everyone does it' you tell yourself. And you are correct. This is the path to true facelessness. You are exactly the same as everyone else. Or at least you appear to be. And the world is a poorer place for it. Self-censorship and conformity are the enemies of originality and distinctiveness, and they're winning the fight on this battlefield.

The character Dash, from the animated movie The Incredibles, when told that "everyone is special" replied with the rather astute observation "that's the same as saying no one is." And he's right. I hadn't considered the possibility that people aren't censoring themselves... maybe 80% of people are just boring as hell. How depressing. I'm sticking to the original theory because it's more optimistic.
I say 80% because there are a few troopers out there who truly throw caution to the sharks and really unleash the inner ninja-penguin. These people make me smile. To you, brave souls I throw out a big "I salute you!"

¹ interestingly, no-one in the world will admit to liking country or metal
² Unless the pic is shown here

Derwent River Star

Oren, Azz, Tom, lil' Bro and I all went to see Derwent River Star at the Hopetoun Hotel last night for their album launch. Its been several years in the making but 'The Winter Dark' is finally available for sale. I made shirts for four of us with the above image printed across the chest and the guys in the band seemed to appreciate it, which was cool. I was slightly devastated to hear that Alex is getting married soon but wish her all happiness just the same.

Jude is going back to America soon so it'll be a while before they come together again to create their sweet sweet tunes. I hope we made you feel wanted guys.