christmas eve

After a hot day yesterday, this morning was cool and drizzly. This has been very much the rule since the false spring and summer came. Warm dry weather seems unable to get a purchase, so we are left with tentative daily forecasts that leave us feeling much as the English must every summer.

I have been disappointed at the lack of Christmas programming on television. When I was a kid, the week before Christmas was often given over to Christmas-themed movies of a didactic or slightly sacharine kind, or specials that looked whimsically at the central themes of the holiday. I can't find anything like that now, which is a shame because these kinds of shows created a kind of magic for children.

I suppose the same magic might now be derived from sampling the endless supply of toy catalogues that clutter our letterbox. Do the glossy pages parading cheap, breakable plastic from our erstwhile Chinese trading partners evoke the same gentle frisson that A Christmas Carol or The Little Drummer Boy did?

I hear that six and seven year olds are now asking for Ipod Touches for Christmas. I'm afraid that makes me worry, and though it's none of my business at all, I ponder at what they might ask for when they are teenagers.

Christmas has lost, at the public level, any suggestion of the spiritual or the morally uplifting. Even in a secular society, that is not necessarily a good thing. Generations have successfully raised their young on solid stories about right and wrong, or themes that highlight the best qualities in human nature. These days we are too busy buying things or ogling gadgets or socially networking to get it.

Not getting it is a worry, I think.

Happy Christmas to everyone. And peace on earth.

Especially on the Korean peninsula.

It seemed that the 'late winter' would stretch on forever. Finally warmer weather has set in, at least for the time being. Meanwhile I have injured my shoulder by using hand paddles for breast-stroking. Apparently you are not supposed to use them for that particular stroke, so I am confined to wading through shallow water or lapping with a kickboard. Neither is terribly appealing.

Christmas is getting terribly close but the season has been somewhat upset by a dispute over who saw what at a playgroup incident last week. Of course, we know what we saw and what we didn't see, irrespective of the increasing absurdity of the other case. Seems that some agencies might always settle for a 'fudge' when it comes to truth-telling. One can always hope that liers will be outted, though this remains but a hope only.

Only one unit to go until my Diploma of Counselling is completed. That should be in by early in the new year. I hope that I can put it to good use. I'm not out to make money, just to use my skills to bring a little more light into some people's lives. Well, that's my hope, anyway.

js50 thoughts at closing

I started this series, the Japan series, about three years ago, not long after we returned from living and working in Japan. It was a kind of a therapy for me - missing the place as much as I was and not having much chance of returning - I felt a need to express, something. Meaning, if you like, that I wanted to establish a sense of place while matters were still fresh in my mind and work through some of the ending issues that were as yet, as it seemed to me, unresolved. It's hard to say whether I achieved any of this, but I have enjoyed dipping into the recent past.

I think that #50 is as good a place to finish as anywhere. And it's fitting that I end with a tribute to the one person who made the whole Japan project possible. My wife, Nadia. If not for Nadia, I don't think that I would have gone to Japan beyond that first Crowd Around venture in 1998. It certainly would have been more difficult. She pushed me into securing long service leave back in 2001, against my expectations, so we could go for that first year. From that decision all else flowed, including the subsequent trips that finally ended in 2007. She was my constant companion, workmate, confidant, advisor and great love during that time. It was in Japan that she proposed to me.

So here are a few photos of my lovely wife, mostly taken in the first few months of 2007(the last one dates from 2001, at Tenjin Park). They document a few occasions, such as a birthday, trips out to Sasayama and Kyoto and walks in the snow near our home in Mukogaoka.

js49 in our neighbourhood.

I did a fairly regular, almost daily, walk to the river which took me past the hospital at the end of our street. One day I was walking by one of the buildings when two batteries came flying from a high window, clattering and bouncing just in front of me. It was a special kind of hospital that our Japanese acquaintances talked about rarely and only then, obliquely.

Past the hospital were the apartment blocks of Nishiyama and then a meandering descent past vegetable gardens and a wood-working shop with a slow-burning brazier. I loved that turn in the road, the shrine on one side and the cute American-style church next door. The smell of fresh-planed wood.

I could walk in pretty much endless loops, choosing different lanes and paths to return by. These ways also formed the daytime walk that I would often do with Tom. He could stay awake for about half the distance, then his eyes would close for the afternoon nap. It must have been an odd sight - a foreign man wheeling a little baby around!

Somewhere between our first and second stays, someone decided to paint a large, lop-sided letter D on a garden shed. I never sought an explanation for this odd and out-of-place curiosity, but occasionally I let on that I wasn't beyond a bit of graffitying myself. Of course, I didn't do it. I'm way too law-abiding. It just remained a little neighbourhood mystery.

pc thoughts

Since Jeremy Clarkson put his ample foot in it again last week, I have been thinking about the dilemma of political correctness. It is a dilemma really, not because of its clunking name, nor the aims behind most PC activity (undoubtedly well-intentioned), but because it turns decent people against principles that they would normally have stood up for. Who doesn't think that people should be treated fairly and equally regardless of their race, religion, sex or whatever difference seems to separate us as human beings?

The problem occurs, I think, because of the institutionalization of goodness, niceness, decency or fairness. It just doesn't work. People end up being resentful of being told how to act and think. They don't like being robbed of the virtuousness, or the feeling one gets from acting decently, without prodding instruction or reference to a code of conduct.

In this sense, PC is counterproductive and ends up alienating the very people who actually support its underlying principles. If you take away the opportunity for people to act well because they want to, then you risk undermining the good-will that exists already.

There will always be those who act badly when confronted by difference. I see no reason to be alarmed by that, just so long as the rest of us can get on with acting for the good.

The first pleasant spring day in quite a while. It actually started to feel like a day for discarding jumpers and jackets and donning a t-shirt. Still, getting out of the pool this morning was brisk and there were very few swimmers in evidence.

Then it was back to study for me, while Nadia continued her mammoth recording sessions in the adjacent room. They may go on forever.

I'm nearing the end of my Diploma of Counselling - just two theory units and one practical to go. Then I will be unleashed upon the weary old world, hoping to do some good or, at the very least, no harm.

Tom used the F word this evening, unleashing a stern and uncompromising reprimand from his parents. The things they learn, even at pre-school! Had I used that word when I was just 4, my head would have been swiftly attached to a pike at the entrance to Rose Bay Public. Different times, those.

gilead

A few years ago the choir I sing with, Crowd Around, sang the old spiritual, Balm in Gilead. It's a song that would create the kind of emotional landscape at a Revival Meeting to kick doubters into the believers camp, if only for a week or two. Last night I finally finished the novel Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson.

It's truly a beautiful, reflective book about (and I won't spoil the story) an ageing minister of religion, who, blessed late in life with a young wife and a little boy, writes up a kind of account of things for his son. He knows he hasn't long to live and he wants to speak to him from beyond the grave, as it were. Set in a declining Mid-West town, the novel spans three generations, spilling from the skirmishes of the Civil War over into the next century of major world-wide conflict. These form a backdrop to the meditations of the narrator, John Ames, and the events that occur in and around Gilead.

Just as Balm in Gilead the song might give a shove to the equivocator into journeying across the Jordan, so Gilead the book gave me constant pause for thought, and prayer.

"Grace is not so poor a thing that it cannot present itself in any number of ways" Ames writes. In that nugget, there is much to hope for.

politics japan

Politics in Japan is as interesting, though perhaps more perplexing, as anywhere else. When we lived there, I did my best to take an interest in what was going on, though my main source for a long time was the conservative Yomuiri Shinbun. I also gleaned a little from the nightly NHK news, though it seemed to me that the latter simply reported what it was told to.

I remember in out first working outing in Sanda - very early on - being take to lunch with our boss Stephanie and a Japanese friend of hers, who was prominent in local government. He also has links to, um, other more fringe groups, as well as access to the ruling party, the LDP. I mentioned over lunch that I really liked the election poster of Junichiro Koisumi with his sleeves rolled up. One phone call later and to my considerable surprise, I had said poster in my possession. The exercise of influence can be fascinating.

The Democratic Party is now in government and one Prime Minister has already resigned. The pattern of rotating PM's that followed the retirement of Koisumi has been repeated in the the new Government. Timidity or business as usual appear to be the hallmarks of the present time, and new parties with enterprising names are forming on the back of the political vacuum that is emerging.

And you can't blame them to for trying. Who wouldn't feel the desire to cast a vote for the Stand Up Japan Party, the New Renaissance Party, the Spirit of Japan Party, and the most popular, Your Party? Your place or mine, I wonder?

I sent a PDF to a friend in 2001 that purported to explain, or at least shed light, on the development of Japanese political parties in the 1990's. And truly, by way of a desire for sheer illumination, I reprint it above. Good luck.

life in a new age

A day or two ago I bit the bullet and bought another car. It's a 2003 Suzuki Liana hatchback, made in Japan. It wasn't my first(or second) choice of car, but it came up accidentally and it seems to be a pretty good buy. Low mileage, good condition, one owner. The Liana sedan is famous for being the 'reasonably priced car' driven on the first four seasons of Top Gear, though this may not be a recommendation for it.

Still, it means that I am now mobile and a little freer to go about my day when Nadia has the Premacy. Of course, I include the obligatory shot. Liana in repose.

spring?

Spring has stubbornly refused to come. We have had weeks of cool weather and since October, quite a lot of rain. Looking out of a window on a damp morning sees trees and roof tops floating in a wintry mist, and jeans and jackets are the flavour of the day. Still. October is ordinarily a warm time, but the feel of the moment is of that closed-in June-July period, when the days seem to shorten into each other.

our high-side maple waits,
while the sun drags itself whacked
from the northern summer

let me count the ways

I print out in full the lyrics to an Alanis Morrissette song called '21 things I want in a lover.' For some time now I've been wanting to put myself to the test - do I measure up to Ms Morrissette's exacting criteria on an acceptable lover? I don't always think that the answers are as simple as yes or no, but in pop music, I suppose, subtlety is an optional extra. There are very few caveats. I am therefore allowing half points where criteria might reasonably allow for it, under the circumstances. For example, being up for sex three times a week is easy when you first meet someone, though less easy as time passes beyond the honeymoon glow.

Do you derive joy when someone else succeeds? .5 (usually)
Do you not play dirty when engaged in competition? 1
Do you have a big intellectual capacity? 1.
But know that it alone does not equate wisdom 1.

Do you see everything as an illusion? .5 (not everything is..)
But enjoy it even though you are not of it? 1.
Are you both masculine and feminine 1.
Politically aware, and don't believe in capital punishment? 1 + 1

These are 21 things that I want in a lover
Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer

Do you derive joy from diving in and seeing that 1
Loving someone can actually feel like freedom? .5
Are you funny? A la self-deprecating 1 + 1
Like adventure and have many formed opinions 0 + 1

These are 21 things that I want in a lover
Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer
I figure I can describe it since I have a choice in the matter
These are 21 things I choose to choose in a lover

I'm in no hurry, I could wait forever
I'm in no rush 'cause I like being solo
No worries and certainly no pressure in the meantime
I'll live like there's no tomorrow

Are you uninhibited in bed more than three times a week .5 + .5 (now come on!)=1
Up for being experimental? .5
Are you athletic? Are you thriving in a job that helps your brother? 1 + 1
Are you not addicted? 1

These are 21 things that I want in a lover
Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer
I figure I can describe it since I have a choice of the matter
These are 21 things I choose to choose in a lover

Hmm 17 out of 21. Not too bad. Have a go yourself.

cool october.

My fifty-second October has come around. Before I immerse myself in musings on the self, I feel compelled to mention that I have picked up again on readings and books that address the postmodern condition. Can I talk, therefore, about the self as an authentic, foundational entity? Or must I be a shifting sand of multiple selves?

I find most aspects of postmodern cultural analysis quite interesting. It's very theory laden and has a fond penchant for verbosity and academic discourse that often results in opacity. Deliberately so, I think. It's very hard to pin down, define or argue with, because many theorists in this tradition emphasize (surely privilege - ed.) its shifting, playful, self-referential, decentring nature. It is a curious hotch-potch (surely, multi-valenced plurality - ed) of ideas and extrapolation, some of which are eminently sensible. Others are banal, illogical, trivial, silly and contrary to common human experience. Of course, there is no such thing as the latter, so I am foolish in raising it.

By virtue of being a white, middle class male in a Western democracy I instantly dissolve, deconstruct, today's short text. Actually, it deconstructs itself. My liberal education and former situation within a professional class betrays my bias. My setting of the rational as a standard invites its opposite, the irrational, to set up contradictions internally. And anyway, since none of these words have a real fixed meaning, and might arbitrarily be assigned to anything, then nothing I say can mean anything concrete.

If only any of that were true.

the santa conundrum

Tom is already quite skeptical about things that might be construed as metaphysical or supernatural. He has told me with what seems like a high degree of certainty that there is no Devil, he is dubious about angels, ghosts and monsters. He has made pronouncements on the finality of death. Thus far Santa seems to be have escaped this critical analysis and I suspect that self-interest may be a factor. Santa is undoubtedly a part of the gravy train, an aspect, perhaps, of middle-class welfare.

Tom has asked me about the mechanics of the 'Santa system' and I have had to cobble together explanations that seem to fit the boundless curiosity of a 4 year old, while remaining consistent with the wider implications of globalisation. How, for example, does our reporting of his (Tom's) behaviour to Santa's agents (with whom all parents have formal meetings from time to time) accord with the quantity of gifts due? Where do we (mum and dad) fit into the system, for surely Santa cannot bear the total cost of making a world-wide cache of presents?

My best efforts are still flawed and will be picked to pieces in coming years. Basically, I have argued that, yes, Santa is very philanthropic but does indeed require assistance. Parents and gift-givers pay for the cost of the raw materials and Santa value adds with the help of a vast team of tireless elves in a modern, high-productivity workshop. The latter are, of course, unionised, but work happily in tandem with Santa and have rarely been known to strike.

And as I write this, Tom is thumbing through toy catalogues and preparing to ask difficult questions. I like the challenge. I just have to remember my own answers!

ten years from the rings

Ten years ago today, the 2000 Olympics Games began in Sydney. Nadia and I were overseas, travelling for a month through Europe. We chose to go at that time for many reasons, of which one was the logic that if everyone was heading to Australia for the Olympics, then Europe might be a little emptier of tourists. There was also the question of the relentless hype which started from the moment Sydney was awarded the games.

So we followed the progress of the Games from afar. But one moment has stayed with me, when the news from home momentarily invaded our journey through Europe. We had arrived in Prague from Vienna, having had a media blackout for about 24 hours, and I headed out the next morning early to grab a newspaper, keen on news of the Olympic opening ceremony. I found a newsstand and bought an English language newspaper. There has been much debate in the time leading up to the games about who would light the Olympic flame. I was curious about who had got the gong and how the flame had been lit. Both, a heavily guarded secret.

As I walked back to our room, I unfolded the paper. There was no mistaking the headline. On the front page was a picture of Cathy Freeman, the great Aboriginal athlete, standing amidst a circle of flame. I felt myself tearing up. I had to stop walking. The streetscape of old Prague became misty in the bright sunshine. All I can remember from that hugely coloured moment were the words I uttered at the time, 'They've got it right. They've got it right.'

Everyone knows that travelling is a broadening experience, bringing new perspectives on life and the common project that is humanity. Usually your land of birth recedes into the distance as you delve into the difference. But that day, my homeland hove into view like a harvest moon tilting above the eastern horizon. And I was proud or it. Terribly proud.

positive parenting 2

Last night I was the only guy at the follow up to 'Boys and Their Emotions', 'Remedies For Successful Parenting'. That's fine, I suppose, though it would have been encouraging to see more dads investing in their families emotional life.

For me, it was a double-purposed event. Anything that helps with the difficult task of raising children is most welcome. I liked, for example, the idea passed on by one of the facilitators, of using 'growing up/growing down' language to encourage kids to move towards more positive ways of behaving.

It was also useful for me to see the work of two experienced co-facilitators on the night, especially so as I had only just finished a section of this very topic (part of my Diploma of Counselling) that day. A welcome co-incidence.

Today is a little more like a spring day, the sun is out and there is even a fly buzzing somewhere behind my ear. This morning we took Tom to Hazelbrook PS for an Open Day, prior to his commencing a Good Start program. Fancy, starting school next year! Things will be a little different around our house in 2011, I think.

js48 community work and fun

Being a foreigner in Japan means getting used to being asked to do other things apart from your daily job. Maybe you'll be asked to help out with a language class at a local school, participate in a seasonal festival, share a meal under the cherry blossoms during o-hanami - well - the list is pretty well endless. Now and then you need to learn how to say 'no' and have some pretty plausible excuses up your sleeve. Not having the time is rarely good enough, because, after all, you do have a weekend or the odd morning here or there. If it isn't scheduled, then by definition in Japan, it is free.

Now, of course, most of the extra-curricular events you are asked to front up for are a pure joy to be involved in and just add to the pleasure of living and working in Japan. Amongst the many things we did during our time in Sanda was the International Friendship Festival, held annually in the autumn at Flowertown Civic Centre. On one occasion we were waylaid and dressed up in traditional kimono. On another we manned a kind of conversation station for anyone who wanted to have a chat in English. Later we popped over the road to Flora 88 for coffee and cake at Hollies Cafe. I guess you can work out which photo is which.

The New Gillard Government

Finally, after some 17 days of negotiating, Australia has a new Government. Two of the three remaining independents have thrown in their lot in with the incumbent Gillard Government. The threat of an Abbott regime is, for the time being, diminished.

This is Australia's second national Government comprising independents as the bridge to forming a majority. That's two minority governments in 110 years of federation. It is likely to be a slightly wild ride, given the fact that the House majority is made up of 72 (ALP) 4 independents (two Green and two 'country'), and the forthcoming Senate will comprise nine Green senators, who will hold the balance of power.

We can expect lots of crybabying from the Coalition in coming days. Barnaby Joyce has been having a long and irrational whinge on the ABC already.

Meanwhile, let us incline ourselves to the Prime Minister, Julia Gillard.

my boy's tip truck
wedged by the night's yauping winds,
in warm verandah rails

September 1st.

spring, one light touch
of wind and bud and sun,
of continuities
unfolding.

towards government?

The formation of a workable minority government may have taken a step further with the Labor Government signing an 'alliance' with the Greens. While this only evens things up at 73-all in the House of Reps. it nevertheless gives a momentum, one way or the other, for matters to move along in the next few days.

It is my view, still, that the rural independents, who come from the conservative fold, will ultimately give their support to an Abbott Government. They have made noises of all stripes over the past two weeks, noises that muddy the waters, somewhat. However, it will be difficult, I think, for these men to support a Government whose policies, in alliance with the Greens, are traditionally the opposite of their constituency.

But then again, we have just had an election campaign and an election outcome that are odd and extraordinary by any measure, so maybe, we will get a Government that breaks the mold.

fifth anniversary of blogging

I was remiss in failing to notice a small anniversary of this blog. It's five years ago since I signed up to 'think out aloud'. I have written relatively little in that time - about one entry a week. If this really was a kind of public diary, then there should be an entry a day, at least.

Over that time, some things have changed in my life. I got married, had a baby, spent one last time teaching in Japan, completed a new house, started a diploma in counselling, and buried a few friends and relatives. There has been at least one change of government in Australia(maybe two if the pollies can sort out the current imbroglio) and the weather seems to be getting warmer.

I hope that in five years time I can write about some positive achievements and a better state of matters in the world. There are huge challenges globally and locally and if I can only add a drop of goodness to the human ocean, then I'll be the happier for it.

I think that many of us in the western world live in a kind of consumer cocoon. It is a place that is not quite real but is all too real. It is how we live our modern lives and it is a model, apparently, for many developing nations.

I think one of the reasons that we live here is because the outside world has the appearance of being a dangerous place. When I was growing up I feared a nuclear war and the kind of death or incomprehensible desolation that that event would bring. It was difficult to face square on but impossible to avoid. That threat persists though the agents of its threatened execution have ceased to be the major players, for now.

It is hard to know where to start when sizing up the threats that could make our lives, or our children's lives, difficult propositions. Wars in the Middle East, Iran's nuclear ambitions, Pakistani instability, global warming and financial meltdowns are amongst the more prominent brush fires about. And did I mention Kim Jong ll in North Korea?

One of the values that emerged from The Enlightenment was the exaltation of Reason. It can be argued, and has been, that reason alone is insufficient as a model for human progress. That's true enough, I think. But the re-emergence of the Irrational in new forms in both developed and developing nations is a mighty cause for concern. When added to the cocktail of poisonous problems besetting the planet, it is an admixture for disaster. Though, as usual, I am happy to be proven wrong. I pray that I am.

the washup

For those less familiar with how Federal politics functions in Australia, here is a rundown of the last week. Last Saturday saw the culmination of five weeks of campaigning in the 2010 Federal Election and the result was tie, so to speak. The Government will likely have 72 seats (in a 150 seat chamber), the Opposition 73. There will be three conservatively inclined rural independents, one urban Green, and one independent former Green. Consequently, neither of the major parties has a house majority and both parties will need to enlist the support of a grouping of the independents to form a government.

Sounds easy enough, don't you think. The Opposition form an alliance with their erstwhile conservative independent friends and bingo, we have a majority of 76. But wait. These three independents are former Nationals (who form the junior partner in the Opposition Coalition) and they just happen to detest their former party. Would they be prepared to help the Government stay in power? Well maybe. The independents have submitted a 7 point plan to both major parties as the first step in choosing a dance partner.

It's slightly crazy days indeed. One of the rural independents, Bob Katter, wants (amongst a raft of parochial and sometimes oddball policies) two new states in the north of Australia. Not asking much, is he? I think that we can safely say that, whoever is able to form a government (and perhaps no-one will )is likely to have a difficult time governing,and that's before we even survey the upper house, the Senate. The latter will have 9 Greens holding the balance of power by the middle of next year.

Watch this space.

advanced counselling techniques

Last Thursday I had the penultimate practical assessment day for my Diploma of Counselling. None of the pracs are easy and this one was especially difficult, more so because it was an entirely new unit in the course. I think that there were indications that some aspects were a little undercooked in fields such as assessment directions and criteria, though our assessor, Sandra, was outstanding in explaining everything. And just as well too.

It wasn't so much the counselling practical in front of others that was difficult, but digesting and hitting the assessment targets, whilst otherwise engaging with the 'client', all in ten minutes. The second part of the day (which was far too long) was an 'interview' with a supervisor concerning another hypothetical case study, by which time my concentration was shot. But we all got through.

As I look out the window a near full moon is high in the sky, chasing through thin sheets of ripped cloud. Beautiful.

coffee

I've had my Gaggia Classic for two years now. I buy locally roasted beans and grind them myself. And it's worked out fine - the machines paying for themselves within 12 months and me having really good coffee to drink everyday. There is one down side though. I find that very few cups of coffee I buy out (and this is really only occasionally anyway) just don't measure up. They don't taste as good, being either too milky, too weak or simply, not well made. Having done a domestic barista's course too, it's easy to appreciate the skill and attention involved in making a decent latte. But there is also an attendant risk of one becoming a coffee snob.

On the weekend I went down to Canberra to watch the federal election results unfold with a friend. They unfolded into an unusual and quite rare electoral cul de sac which is still be unravelled as I write. But that's another story. My point is that I bought maybe four cappucinos over that time in upmarket Manuka, all at different establishments, and not one was up to scratch. These are all places that pride themselves on making good coffee, so really, I am puzzled that no-one could get it right.

I don't want to fall into the trap of being snooty about a cup of coffee. There are far more important things happening that require my attention, not the least of which was my ostensible reason for being in Canberra in the first place. All I ask is for a decent coffee when I'm out.

by Mrs Ireland

My wife Nadia has said that she will write a book someday called Mr Ireland, by Mrs Ireland. In it, she plans to expand upon my many eccentricities and foibles. Apparently, this subject matter will be of interest to more than just an in-the-know circle of friends and family. A wider audience is envisaged, such will be the comic breadth of her writing.

I admit, I am at least a passable subject for study in the local environment, though not more than any other person really. Nadia is a good writer, with a style that is very readable, unpretentious, free from wordiness or obvious contrivance. Sometimes I am a little reminded of the Japanese author, Banana Yoshimoto. An apparently simple, direct style that places the focus on the characters and the story. It is not really 'simple' at all, but a learnt skill.

As for me, the less said the better. I am close to finishing my counselling diploma and have had many opportunities to 'work on myself', psychologically. It's a tough balancing act - to create greater self-awareness and personal change without coming across as a navel-gazing obsessive. I guess I could release my notes on myself as material for Nadia's forthcoming book. Or write my own. That guy, by This one.

election of the exs

This election must surely rank as one of the oddest in Australian electoral history. Starting as a phony war, continuing as a surreal non-event, plagued by leaks and non-sequitters and now, brim-filled with ex-leaders various interventions, it seems that the unpredictability of events and the potential for voter-volatility may only heighten in the final two weeks.

Andrew Peacock, Malcolm Fraser, Bob Hawke, Mark Latham, John Howard and Kevin Rudd are all players in this campaign so far, to lesser or greater degrees. The former PM Rudd looms like the elephant in the tally room, though he may have made his peace with the new PM now. Mr Fraser thinks the Coalition is not ready for office (he did resign from the Liberal Party recently). Bob Hawke has swanned in with warnings about the Tories, as he likes to call them. Mark Latham has monstered into the campaign like a, well, village idiot, actually. And John Howard I would just like to forget about, period.

Generally, they have been distractions from the real issues, issues which are buried beneath the aforementioned nonsense (see para 1). So, distractions within distractions.

Meanwhile, the Government has clawed back to be just in front in the polls, and well ahead, still, in the betting odds. Eleven days to go now, in an election that is truly going down to the wire.

js47 life with tom

I think I have mentioned before that out first two years in Japan were as a couple, alone. On the third occasion, we had the baby Tom too. This radically altered what we could do and when we could do it. Out went the fairly regular weekend trips to the nearby cities like Kobe and Osaka. Out went much of our bike-riding about town. Our social life took a significant dip as well. And every parent will tell you that sleep deprivation becomes a serious issue, especially when both parents are working.

Still, we managed. Nadia took the brunt of the sleep loss and I am forever indebted to her for it. We re-organised the 'away' work, which became my exclusive domain. Sometimes I took the evening classes for my exhausted wife. We were lucky to have our live-in friend Miwa to help out, a real blessing, as I have said many times before.

Taking Tom out, aside from when I wheeled him in the stroller around Sanda, involved loading up our trusty Mitsubishi and going somewhere, usually a shopping centre, the veggie cafe in Arinodai or to the local doctor. We did the summer trip to the Tango-Hanto Peninsula too. Now and then they both came with me for the trip out to Sasayama, though this was rare. And maybe twice we went as a family by train into the big smoke.

I include a selection of Tom shots in various localities. It was a struggle but also a pleasure. I don't think he remembers anything, though the link with Japan remains strong.

there to lose

Opinion polls out today in the Sydney Morning Herald show that the Opposition has nudged in front of the Government. Its not hard to see how this has happened - what, with a week of leaked documents, focussed campaigning by the Opposition and a second rate campaign by the Government.

I can only pray that somewhere in Gillard's Election HQ, someone is saying, with absolute clarity, that the population are not going to buy safety and spin, and that they want to see what the PM has planned for her term in office in very plain language. Gillard, with the exception of her leak-driven defence last week, has looked subdued, almost robotic and nowhere near as convincing as Tony Abbott. Now I know that the latter is a shameless opportunist, but he is a plain-speaking one.

The Government may not be able to control the leaks, but it can enter into a spirited fight over its generally excellent record and its plans for the immediate future. Gillard needs to take some risks and engage with the population.

That, or else we get another conservative government. In three, short weeks.

the swinging voter

Most elections these days are centered on wooing the swinging voter. These are, after all, the kinds of people who change their vote, so running campaigns that pander to their interests is understandable. The problem is that the kind of issues that are likely to tip their vote one way or the other are not necessarily those that are at the foreground of the national interest. They may be significant, but their importance is overblown. So it is with the current election.

Rearing it's head once again is the 'boat people' debate. I have seen the figures that demonstrate that about 2% of all 'illegals' coming to Australia use this channel. The other 98% come in through the airports. Yet one would think that this paltry figure was actually an all-consuming avalanche bearing down on the fragile Australian hinterland, bringing with it pestilence and a queue-jumping mentality. It's absurd and immoral and at least one of the major political parties should be honest enough to say so. Instead we have a mutual rush to the trenches.

The Government and the Opposition are both wedded to the so-called centre ground where these swingers and aspirationals apparently reside. It's not necessarily a moderate or a rational centre. After all, the middle can be the place of greatest ignorance and prejudice, of poor awareness and shameful apathy. And of course, the centre has shifted over the three decades or so that I have been interested in politics. It further to the right these days. Significantly further.

election update 01

We are into the second week of the campaign now and things are just starting to reach tepid, after a phoney war in week one. Neither of the major parties, nor their respective leaders, have made major gaffes yet. The policies are safe and uninspiring and aimed at a frugal costing regime, such is the atmosphere of hey, small spender!

Today the Government released a Climate Change non-policy, a disappointing and timid squibb aimed at dressing up the backdown on this issue some months ago. A citizen's assembly comprising at least 100 people will be drawn from the electoral roll! What an abrogation of leadership and good government this is! We voted three years ago to have a climate change policy developed and enacted. Why not just use the Joe Hockey preferred Tweeting consensus? Hey gang, do you think we can come up with a climate policy?

I hope things get better than this. Timid government is not government that's worth having. Leadership is about making some decisions that will be unpopular and difficult to undertake. Labor leaders in the past have managed it. So too, can Ms Gillard.

who will it be?

Rumours concerning the new Socceroos head coach have been circulating since midway through the World Cup. A number of names have been tossed into the mix, including the ubiquitous Philipe Troussier (who impressed me as the Japan boss in 2002), the former Cameroon coach Paul Le Guin, Lothar Matthaus, Jose Peckerman and El Loco, Marcelo Bielsa. It's hard to know just who else the FFA has been talking to and precisely who is really interested.

There are a few things I would like to know about them too. Are they genuinely interested in developing the game in Australia? We don't really need any more 'paying out' on the A-League, Verbeek-style. We do need encouragement, mentoring and an emphasis of finding and developing talent. Will the new coach reside in Australia? I think that they should. Will there be an emphasis on a more attacking football, as opposed to the dire defensiveness of the Verbeek era? I hope that the new coach can find that happy medium between strong defence and a desire to attack.

Pim Verbeek had significant success with the Socceroos, fullfilling his remit impeccably. But the manner in which a team plays is just as important as the results and if football is to win over more hearts in Australia, then the post-Verbeek head coach needs to ring in the changes.

hey abbott!

Australia goes to the polls on August 21st in what is likely to be a tough-fought, possibly not-entirely-clean campaign. The Government under new PM Julia Gillard is marginally ahead in the polls, though the ALP's primary vote if down. The opposition have a formidable scrapper in Tony Abbott, though whether middle-class Australia will wear his morally conservative credentials and tendency to say silly things is another matter. It has to be said though, that he is very competitive and articulate on key issues, even if one disagrees with his positions.

What matters then will the election hinge on? In recent months, the Government's handling of the mining tax, the home insulation scheme, climate policy, boat people (!) and the manner in which the former PM was deposed have proved to be stumbling blocks. The opposition will hit hard on these issues. The Government, which, on the whole, has been competent and broadly social democratic, should prevail if it can run a half-decent campaign. This should mean jettisoning spin doctors and focus-group pollsters, whose baleful influence is too often apparent in Western democracies. There is nothing wrong with leading from the front or even having a little conviction, is there?

until later

This morning we heard the sad news of the passing of Tracey Thomson. Tracey and her two little boys were pretty much a fixture at Thursday morning playgroup in Hazelbrook and she also served on the same pre-school parent committee as me. I count myself fortunate that I was able to get to know her even a little, to chat about the sorts of things parents chat about, to share a laugh now and then.

It was a struggle for her, both boys having mild developmental delays that doubled her worry and her workload. But I never heard a complaint from her. She had had serious health problems for many years - open heart surgery, missing a kidney, then finally a brain tumor. Still, no complaints, ever. Only fears for her boys if things turned out for the worst.

Life is rarely fair though even in the most difficult cases, one can sometimes discern a scintilla of hope. Tracey was that hope and rarely was it about herself. It was for others that her energy and kindness were directed.

Rest in peace in the arms of God, Tracey.

During the World Cup, I played one of the Fifa online 'games', the World Cup Predictor Challenge. There were no prizes but it was fun to see how well I could guess the winner, the scoreline, the number of corners, first scorer, etc. etc. As it turned out I finished a creditable 41,585th. Before you say "Well that's a load of bollocks", I should point out that there were nearly 500,000 players, so I actually finished in the top 10%. If I had remembered to complete every game I would have done better.

BTW, congratulations to Spain on getting to and winning their first World Cup, 1-0 against the Dutch. They are deservedly the best team in the world.

not kfc

Understanding the individual factors that made up the Global Financial Crisis is a bit like learning a new language, one whose rules are subject to change. Just when you think you have got on top of basic sentence structure, along comes a grammatical flip that fosters confusion.

I have been burrowing through an excellent book, IOU, by John Lanchester, that explains the GFC is very lay terms. In fact, the author is a fiction writer with a beautiful turn of phrase and an eye for the absurd. And even though it reduces complexity to clear rational jargon-free prose, I still have to read and re-read pages. There is lot to know and the fact is, some of it is quite counter-intuitive. I can handle explanations of how the fundamentals of banking function (quite simple really) but when matters move into the more complex financial instruments developed to free up capital and reduce risk, well, there is difficulty. Quite brilliant chaps, mathematicians and physicists among them, created these products, so it's little wonder that poor old bank managers, fund directors and the like didn't really know exactly what they doing. In time, these canny financial instruments became instruments of torture.

I'll have more to say on this amazing(tax-payer funded) schemozzle as I delve deeper into the book. Or then again, I might have forgotten it all by the time I reach the keyboard.

teaching spaces

I taught in Australian high schools for over 15 years and, naturally that was a big help when first starting work in Japan. It's funny how I felt most comfortable when doing guest teaching stints in Japanese Elementary and Junior High Schools. I suppose it must have been the ubiquitous architecture of schools - long corridors with classrooms either side.

I was thinking about the kinds of places that I taught in whilst in Japan just the other day. Nadia and I taught in a wide variety of environments - not only our converted tatami room at home in Mukogaoka. We worked in private homes, churches and community centres. I worked in a juku (see previous post), the boardroom of an engineering company and a variety of school situations. One of my last assignments was at a high school for intellectually-impaired students in Sanda. What lovely kids they were!

Going away from home to work always entailed the careful packing of bags. Books and teaching records were stowed, games and activities chosen. There was always a double check for cassette tapes or CD's that complimented certain texts, without which lessons had to be quickly re-jigged in situ. More than once I provided 'the soundtrack' to a text, using different voices when needed. On many occasions I popped in to a Seven Eleven or Lawson Station to photocopy class sets. Not all students had books and some classes had specialized or idiosyncratic programs of study. It was often just rush, rush, rush.

Right now, my mind is wandering the thin bitumen strip that is the 176. I am watching the speedometer (the limit is usually 50kms) and checking the clock. The first class is at 9.30am and I am going no-where, fast.

js 46 juku life

Over the course of our time in Japan, I was often involved in teaching English in cram schools or juku. Unlike the the activities happening around me (usually self-directed further study under the supervision of a tutor), I was facilitating English conversation, similar to the classes at home in Sanda.

I found the juku classes very hit and miss in terms of satisfaction, particularly if students were unmotivated or simply too tired. Sometimes classes changed with little warning, students dropped out or new classes formed with wildly differing levels of competence. It was pretty clear that the juku were keen on maximising returns, or minimising losses. I had little choice but to play along and do my best.

The juku classes were always upcountry in Sasayama-guchi or Kaibara and gave me a little window into another aspect of the Japanese education system. It was hard work for the average high school student - to spend all day at school, participate almost daily in 'club' activities after school, then front up for more study at a juku. On top of that they would have a pile of homework from regular school. Tired - who us?

I have chosen a number of shots here, including, a nearby shrine attached to Kaibara Hachiman jinja, one of the kitchen classes, 'the stairway to learning' and the street that our juku was located in. The cyclist in the last shot is right about at the door of our establishment.

paths to abstraction

Today I took the long journey to Sydney to catch the Paths To Abstraction exhibition at the Art Gallery of NSW. I was excited because this period in Western Art is one of my favourites, bridging the period between realism and pure abstraction.

It was pleasing to re-familiarize myself with so many old friends, works by Monet ('Haystacks') and Cezanne, woodcuts by Gauguin, references to Fauvism, Symbolism, Cubism, Futurism(enough -isms. ed) and my old buddy, Dadaism. There was a book of verse by Tristan Tzara in French and I was amused that I could remember parts of the English translation. No, I'm not smart, it's just that I once taught Dada as part of a performing arts course.

So I felt comfortable with the arty discourse that was being bandied about. Except for one concept or word I had never heard before. Rayonism. It bothered me all the way home. What was rayonism? Presumably there were artists who were rayonists with whom I had no acquaintance. Their works were displayed very near the Fauves and indeed they were quite colourful. But their distinguishing feature (I'm sure you can guess) were ray-like strokes or spikes of colour intersecting each other in a dynamic way. A short-lived movement, apparently, but one crucial to the development of Russian abstract art.

The jostling of ideas and gentle shifting of tectonics fascinates me. Maybe I should have studied art history at uni.

js45 tenjin jinja

The nearest important shrine to us was Tenjin Jinja. Nadia and I often walked past or through the shrine or its adjacent park on ambles or rides about Sanda. It was the venue for the usual shrine-related activities, for festivals, picnics and cherry blossom viewing. It was always a peaceful place, a vantage point for looking across the Muko River valley and up to the centre of Sanda. Cutting across the shrine was also a bit of a short cut home if we were in the region of Max Value.

On one occasion we had an excursion arranged by Nihongo Salon, a visit to the actual inner sanctum of the shrine and an audience with the (shinto) priest. It was interesting but, not having a command of the language, difficult to fully appreciate. Still, I recall we got the gist of what he said. Or I thought I did.

The shots I have posted are quite old ones, dating from a time shortly after our arrival in Japan in 2001. There's me in front of the shrine itself and Nadia in the adjacent park.

winter

Today was the coldest morning in sixty years, or so the man on the weather said, and I've a mind to believe him. It was very chilly out and in. At such times, my thoughts seem drawn to summer, to swimming, to Lawson Pool. In the spirit of these daydreams, or delusions, I publish a photo of Tom taken earlier this year. In the toddler pool.

our turbulent polity

Prime Ministers come and go, though rarely with the breathtaking finality of Kevin Rudd. Elected a mere two and a half years ago to popular acclaim, Mr Rudd maintained a high rating in the polls for almost two years before descending rapidly and apparently irredeemably. The ALP party meeting last Thursday acted swiftly and ruthlessly in deposing the King in favour of Julia Gillard, now Australia's first female Prime Minister.

One can't help but feel sorry for Mr Rudd. He had obviously worked extremely hard and probably felt he deserved a second term. It's hard to say where the failure begins, but an inability to sell Government proposals was certainly high on the list. Elected governments need to explain themselves and Rudd seemed caught in wilderness between being a diplomat on the one hand and a bland dispenser of cliches, on the other. There is no doubting his intellect and ability, but maybe the role of PM was a bad fit.

Julia Gillard is an entirely different creature. The near future will tell if her elevation to the top job was a stroke of genius or not, but I think she has a very good chance of beating the Coalition and certainly one led by Tony Abbott. An Abbott Government would mean another lurch to the right, a kind of resurrected Howard Government with the same hectoring, moralising tone. Of course, I'm all in favour of elected leaders setting a good moral example. Faith in the polity depends upon a certain level of ethical behaviour.

But Mr Abbott's shoot-from-the-mouth 'straight talk' is just a bridge too far, I think.

and yet more futba news

The Italians have crashed out of the World Cup. There will be weeping and the gnashing of teeth in Norton St. There will be fewer dives in the penalty box. Ultimately, a fitting departure and hot revenge for their mendacious behaviour in the last World Cup in Germany.

Australia is also out, but only after a brave and deserved 2-1 win over Serbia. The campaign which started out so disastrously against Germany two weeks ago ended on a high note. Level with Ghana on 4 points, we missed out on the Round of 16 on goal difference alone. A number of key players will now retire from duty and hopefully some new blood will come through and be appropriately nurtured.

New Zealand also had a great WC and punched well above their weight. Three draws against quality teams is an extraordinary result and a credit to coach Ricky Herbert.

BTW, congratulations to Pim on a successful head coaching stint with the Socceroos. I have been a critic of Verbeek's tactical approach for two years now, but in the end, he delivered on his promises. Good luck in Morocco.

world cup update

My last post was quite pessimistic. The second game against Ghana (1-1) restored my flagging belief in the green and gold. Certainly the image of the team, which had taken a battering in the wake of the German defeat, received overdue manna from the brave and coherent effort against the Black Stars, achieved with only 10 men. Poor Harry was off midway through the first half with a hand-ball offence.

Tonight is Serbia, a strong team with a good record. We have to win by a decent margin and hope Germany batter Ghana by at least three goals to get through to the round of 16. Alternately, we have to win and hope Ghana beats Germany. What chance of that, you might ask.

It's been an odd tournament so far, with France being eliminated and other giants failing to fire. Everybody seems to hate the Jubulani ball and the standard of refereeing has been inconsistent, to put it politely. Let's not even talk about the vuvuzela, which drowns out everything in it's wake.

Strange things have happened in South Africa and stranger may yet occur. Fingers crossed!

Germany 4 Australia 0

For two years now, a doubt has been nagging me. Somewhere at the back of my mind. Often just on the tip of my tongue. I have seen a lot of very, very ordinary football by the Socceroos against average sides. I have seen the team get-out-of-jail more than once with a late, undeserved goal. I have seen a lot of uncohesive and unproductive football. I have also seen a lot of lucky escapes. Yet Australia finished top of their WC qualifying group.

This doubt stayed with me as the team prepared for South Africa with a terrible showing against New Zealand, a moderate performance against Denmark and a worrying display against the United States. Finally, we have the opening match hiding against Germany. It really hasn't come as a big surprise, sadly.

What's gone wrong? What is going wrong? Is the team getting too old? Are we still living on the earnings of the 2006 success? Is Pim Verbeek just not up to it? Maybe it's a combination of these factors and others too. There is now a very real risk that the whole campaign will melt down. Pim can walk away to his job in Morocco.

But it's left to lovers of the game back home to pick up the pieces.

boys

Last night I went to a seminar on 'Boys and their Emotions.' This is such an important subject in my estimation. The results of not paying attention to how boys express themselves, particularly in the modern era is there for all to see; I don't need to point them out, surely.

Many young men are poorly parented, have insufficient positive role models in other men and often as not turn to less desirable behaviours. When women were given the opportunity to achieve equality (an unfinished project, I realize) men suffered a commensurate loss of identity. It became more complicated to become a man.

From complexity, opportunity can grow. There is a chance for men to find new ways of expressing their undeniable talents and predispositions. But that chance must start with boys, the way they are nurtured, encouraged, parented. It's time for fathers, no matter what their past failings or weaknesses, to step up.

Being 'AWARE'

I became familiar with the AWARE method for handling panic and anxiety attacks some years ago. I also found a good summary of the process at a website run by Mark Tyrrell. For my own benefit but also that of fellow anxiety sufferers, I have reprinted it here. In this case, over-learning the 'system' is very helpful. So, it can be useful to read over it, often.

The ‘A’ in aware stands for ‘Accept the anxiety'. Decide just to go with the experience. Fighting anxiety, getting angry or scared just fuels the fire.

The ‘W’ in aware is for ‘Watch the anxiety’ Observe it without judging it to be good or bad. Remember - you are more than just your anxiety.

The next ‘A’ in ‘aware is for ‘Act normally’. Behave normally and continue doing what you intended to do. Breathe normally focusing on extending the out breath. If you run from the situation your immediate anxiety may decrease but this may lead to an increase in future anxiety.

Staying in the situation helps ‘decondition’ the panic response as your mind gets the message that it is not really threatening. This is why people often say that the first few minutes of public speaking are the worst. If you continue for longer than a few minutes then the mind gets the message that it’s not really that threatening.

The ‘R’ in ‘aware’ is for ‘Repeat the steps’ AWA. Continue accepting your anxiety, watching it and acting normally until it goes down to a comfortable level.

And finally the ‘E’ in ‘aware’ is for ‘Expect the best’. What you fear may never happen. You will surprise yourself by the effective way you handle situations when using the ‘AWARE’ technique.

with Tom

trench and bucket
the sky rampant though leafless trees,
we work faster.

trench filling

Today Tom and I spent 90 minutes in the front garden. Our aim was to continue filling the long trench on the northern side of the house, where a retaining wall had been incorrectly sited. Tom had his tiny green wheel barrow and I had a yellow bucket and we worked in a kind of team-like way, though of course, he was easily distracted by just about anything, and prone to losing sand on the way down the stairs.

But he gets the truck noises pretty right. If only that energy could be channeled into industriousness, we would be finished by now. Still, I'm enjoying the process of emptying buckets of sand into the hole; the gradual rise of the ground level over time is satisfying.

We are an inefficient pair, but that's how we like it.

js44 our last car

Once again, I am a little at a loss as to why the Alto (see js43) was carted off for scrap. But I do remember that we were plying our way on the 176 at least twice a week on the way to country classes, so the tinyness of the Suzuki was probably bothering Nadia. There was little doubt that a head-on (or an any-on actually) would have left us seriously dead. There was no protection in the car.

So we asked a friend of Stephanie's who had a kind of used car export firm (Gulliver's) to find us a slightly larger wagon. The choice of K-wagons was large and I hoped that our modest budget of 500,000 yen would secure one. A couple of weeks passed and around came the salesman - with a 1993 Mitsubishi RVR Sportsgear. It seemed monstrous compared to the Alto (though it was really only a small SUV) but we took it anyway. It proved to be a great car.

It had a large sliding door on the passenger side, 'move-anywhere' rear seats, an electric sunroof and very, very good driver vision. There were 22,000 kms on the clock and it was in beautiful condition, after 11 years! We took it on holidays and on many forays into the countryside around Sanda. It was the first car that Nadia ever drove in Japan. I think she still misses it.

The picture shows the RVR on duty(minus bull-bar) in the summer of 2006 on a trip to the Tango-Hanto Peninsula, a popular spot on Kyoto's northern Sea Of Japan fringe. Tom is sleeping in the baby seat in the back. In the rear of the shot is a classic staple of country Japan - a K-ute. Get behind one of those and you nearly doubled your journey time! Honto ni!

The Asian Challenge.

With less than two weeks until the World Cup begins, I have been pondering the the potential outcome for the Asian challengers. Australia, Japan, South and North Korea comprise the quartet who will hopefully do better then before. New Zealand is a kind of de-facto Asian contestant, having beaten Bahrain to qualify.

The facts show that teams from the AFC have not done well in the past. Australia got into the Group of 16 as an Oceania winner last time. South Korea and Japan did quite well in 2002 when the tournament was on home turf. That's about it.

My own feeling is that the best chance for an Asian team advancing lies in South Korea, who (I think) are the best team in Asia, never mind the Fifa rankings. Australia and Japan have been under-performing and North Korea is unlikely to set their group (the alleged, 'Group of Death') on fire. Oddly enough, lowly-placed New Zealand are having a strong burst of form, though I doubt that they have the pedigree to get through. But they are principally an A-League team and it's magnificent that they are in the competition.

Asia really does need to get the runs on the board in the World Cup if the region is to be taken seriously. South Africa presents an opportunity for all four countries to do something that breaks expectations. My guess is that at least two of the teams have to get to the Round of 16 for it to be seen as a success.

And that is a big ask.

if only it weren't so

I think I have mentioned a few times that I suffer from varying degrees of anxiety. Generally, matters are under control but now and then,I have glimpses of the kind of anxiety that dominated the middle years of my twenties. Anyone who has endured panic syndromes will understand what I am talking about and those events, feelings and thoughts of 25 years ago have left an abiding shadow. The shadow is glimpsed, the sensations and compulsive automatic thoughts rekindled, however briefly. Its never been so intense as it was in those days and I do have processes that I can follow - self-administered therapeutic interventions, if you like.

Falling back into anxiety is quite easy and getting out usually means weeks or months of re-learning everything that I have learnt before. Imagine having to relearn the alphabet every time you were reluctantly pushed into competing in a spelling bee. The material is familiar but the connections don't make any sense. And almost always, you are the next on stage.

It never gets any easier. Never.

The Cup Approaches

The Socceroos left for their base in South Africa yesterday, the pared back squad of 28 excluding Scott McDonald and Nicky Carle. The less said about those glaring omissions, the better, I think.

The team is four years older, a little slower but perhaps somewhat wiser from the last experience in Germany in 2006. I hope that they can throw off the many indifferent performances of the last two years and really hit their straps in the group stages. To get to the Round of 16, like last time, will require enormous discipline, tight organisation, strong defence and a little luck here and there. It's possible but, from what I have seen of the national team in recent times, will require a massive improvement in a number of areas. The baleful effort against a plucky New Zealand last Monday should have been a big wake-up call.

As for Pim Verbeek the next few weeks will determine whether he is a real head coach and manager, or a football technician, better suited to the assistant's role. I hope that he too rises to the occasion.

The squad of 28 (to be reduced to 23) is:

Goalkeepers: Mark Schwarzer, Adam Federici, Brad Jones, Eugene Galekovic.

Defenders: Scott Chipperfield, David Carney, Lucas Neill, Michael Beauchamp, Shane Lowry, Craig Moore, Mark Milligan, Rhys Williams, Luke Wilkshire.

Midfielders: Vince Grella, Carl Valeri, Jason Culina, Mile Jedinak, Tim Cahill, Brett Holman, Dario Vidosic, Mark Bresciano, Brett Emerton, Richard Garcia, James Holland, Tommy Oar.

Strikers: Nikita Rukavytsya, Josh Kennedy, Harry Kewell.

Australia 2 NZ 1

A scoreline that flatters the Socceroos. The Kiwis were the better organised, more enthusiastic, more committed team, particularly in the first half. The opening 45 minutes were frankly, awful, with Australia displaying no cohesion, little teamwork and what seemed like a training-game mentality. And there were two dreadful tackles.
In the the second half, a reconfigured team with 5 subs on played much better and knocked in the winner on time. A draw would have been fairer.

This performance highlights for me the underwhelming nature of the Australian team's game play over the past two years. Occasionally we see a sharp, tightly knit team who push the ball around confidently and defend well. More often we see a lot of disconnection and defensiveness at work. This is sometimes called grinding out a result.

Pim Verbeek has the runs on the board when it comes to success with the national team. We have qualified at the top of our group for the World Cup next month and made it into the Asian Cup Finals next year. But I just can't shake the feeling that the team is playing well below its potential and that this fact is substantially a management issue.

But I am very happy to be proven wrong.

South Africa Bound.

Tonight the Socceroos kick off the beginning of the end of their World Cup campaign for 2010 with a friendly against New Zealand in Melbourne. On paper, the Australian team has the goods on the more lowly rated (see Fifa rankings) New Zealanders, but this may be a poor indication of how the game will go. Games like these often have the air of local derbies in which underdogs lift themselves and NZ have beaten Australia in some critical encounters in the past.

Still, I do hope that there is a big crowd and that Australia play well and put a few in. Especially Scotty McDonald, who really needs to break his drought.

C'mon Australia!

The Reader

Nadia and I watched The Reader on DVD last night. I think it's a good movie and morally complicated, with no real resolution to its ambiguity. When the movie premiered a couple of years ago, I vaguely remembered a mild scandal concerning the relative ages of the protaganists(36 and 15), who have an affair. The historical context(post-war West Berlin) somewhat dampens this criticism, though some people will doubtless still find it uncomfortable. More troubling for me was the withholding of information by a central character during a subsequent trial that fundamentally affects the outcome. I was far more squeemish about that from an ethical point of view.
Aside from these dilemmas, The Reader is a well-made, well-acted movie that sweeps you along on a two-hour ride into a recognizable, though strangely unknowable recent past.

Amongst many great quotations by this man:

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.


Martin Luther King, Jr.

for lack of rain

unfalling rain holds
the gauze-grey sheet taut above,
pale leaves, shifting.

haiku

The haiku is a form of poetry I especially like because it is short and succinct. Strictly speaking, haiku should follow the pattern of 5/7/5 syllables over three lines, and Japanese haiku have other features(such as kireji) that are not usually found in the English-speaking variety. One fundamental is their situation and reference to an aspect of the seasons(kigo) or the natural world. The best haiku, I think, also have an observation from a human perspective that contrasts with, leaps out of or compares with what's happening in the immediate natural environment.

Consider this wonderful haiku by 18th Century poet Taniguchi Buson, evocative of time and place and feeling.

The piercing chill I feel:
my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom,
under my heel . . .


From a purist's point of view, my haiku are not, well, haiku. But the form is quite generous in it's Western application and my intentions are really as Japanese as a gaijin will ever get.

Have a go yourself.

going to a party without the boy

out alone together
the late day's skirt shredded orange,
we, into the darkening.

gathering winter in

closing in sooner,
the night's eyelid weighted like
silence in dark aspic

bath, us, together.

autumn bath
our knees rise like drowned mountains
in distant gorges

ghost busters?

This morning four cars turned up next door. Six well-dressed people emerged, looking serious and a little bit awkward. Turns out that these folks are clairvoyants who specialize in detecting spirit presences. Our neighbour Elisabeth, has had an odd smell in her house since moving in, watch helplessly as they moved towards her door. Her daughter had arranged for the, um, visitation, hoping to find the cause of the smell, which had been apparent from the time of her mother's moving in. It was kind of a last resort before tearing the place apart.

Personally, I put the smell down to our living on what was once a hanging swamp, where the soil remains quite damp and tends to smell a somewhat musty. Still, a little ghost-hunting never hurt anyone.

Or did it?

Barry Schwartz on the 'paradox of choice'

Barry Schwartz on the paradox of choice | Video on TED.com

A useful 20 minute nugget summarizing Schwartz's views on what I would call the consequences of the excess of choice. It's a topic that I have been on about for a long time now and I'm gratified to see an intelligent attempt to come to grips with it.

beware aliens bearing gifts

I don't have much truck with people searching for UFO's, claiming to have seen UFO's, or abducted by UFO's. I'm not much interested in conspiracy theories concerning old air-force sites, crop circles or things of a similar ilk. If their observations were in any way measurable, then scientists would long ago have begun to seriously investigate.

On the other hand, I am interested in the SETI project (a genuine scientific endeavour) and the search for potential life-supporting planets in distant solar systems in the our own Milky Way. And I am especially interested when a person of Stephen Hawking's intellectual stature ventures a comment on the matter.

Prof. Hawking said that our search for alien intelligence may well be misguided as the folks we do contact(assuming that happens) might turn out to be nasty. The reasoning goes that any life-form that can retrieve and understand our communications and is able to traverse the vast distances within our galaxy will also, inevitably, be hugely advanced technologically on us. So really, anything is possible and it is naive to assume that they will be benign in intention.

Hawking has done the math on the probability of life existing elsewhere in the universe and his thoughts need to be taken seriously, in my estimation. Though what conclusions we should draw are open to discussion.

a closer look at the national 2010

I mentioned a few posts ago that the choir I am a member of, Crowd Around Community Choir, made it to the finals of a Motown Competition at the National Folk Festival in Canberra. I think the video does us some justice but I'm posting a larger still by request to give an idea of how the choir looked at closer range. We were rehearsing in the car park area just prior to going backstage for the show. My son Tom is in full practice mode too, I see.

looking at the old with new eyes

Have you been thinking about buying a second or third flat screen for other rooms in the house. A laptop to replace the slightly outmoded one sitting on your desk? A second car? Another gizmo that does something a little better than your last one?
I don't think that there has ever been a time when consumerism has been so rampant, so blatant and so unnecessary, as our own time. It's almost as if the spending impulse has replaced some ancient, though now redundant one. You can analyse why it happens and how it happens from many perspectives. Social commentators like Hugh McKay are already doing a fine job. Some academics build whole departments based upon aspects of social analysis that try to evaluate (or rather deconstruct) the phenomenon of consumerism.

There are vested interests whose existence is predicated upon you continuing to spend - the list is rather long - but includes the political class, manufacturers, advertisers, media outlets,shop keepers, ordinary employees and so on. Turn off the spending and you have an economic crisis. Japanese Governments have been trying to get folks to unloose their savings for twenty years now without success, resulting in what commentators call 'two lost decades.' Only the ability of big Japanese companies to export goods has staved off a more serious crisis.

How should we live then? Continue to spend into the future, heedless of the social and environmental cost? Re-think our ways and accept a reduction in living standards? We are in-twined with the system in so many ways and voluntary change will be difficult. After all, there is a psychological part to consuming(eg:the empowering aspect) that may be hard to break. And there are many naysayers and deniers of all stripes, some of whom are not into sacrifice.

As a starting point, may I suggest this. If you don't really need something (need = important for actual survival) then have another good look at what you are planning to buy. Turn it in your hand and study it. If it's big like car, do the same thing mentally. Break it into its component parts. Most likely it isn't a need at all, but a thing desired. Ask yourself why you want it? Is there a part of your life that this purchase is trying to fill, even for a short time? If so, what else could you reasonably do to change the way you feel? This is just the beginning of a journey to de-consumerise yourself.

And a part of looking at the old in a new way. Perhaps as if for the first time.

so long, for now.

Today we said goodbye to little Gracie. I thought that I would never make it through the service, especially when the coffin was borne in to I can see a rainbow. I'm especially thankful that the ceremony at Leura was lead by a Salvation Army Major, whose words of hope and joy supported everyone through such a difficult process. At the end there was sunshine and balloons, the latter shimmering into the towering blue above.

And I am so thankful to God, for being God. And for loving this little girl.

driving to the pool

crab-shaped cloud
blue wash of summer-escaping sky.
us, thinking of water

rest in peace little one

After a five month struggle, Gracie passed away yesterday. It is hard to see little ones dying so young, harder than the sadness we reserve for those much older. And truly, she was a little light amongst us while she lived.
The light goes out. Memory remains. For Carmen and Steve, a terrible agony.
God bless you and keep you, Gracie.

canberra national folk festival 2010

We have been to Canberra as a choir a few times now to perform informally in street shows. Outdoors is not the ideal place to sing unplugged a capella, and is positively difficult when competing with ambient sound from crowds, street markets and fellow itinerant performers. And folks who are plugged in in nearby venues! But it's better than nothing and we get a free weekend pass for two sets of 40 minutes. Pretty generous really.

This year was a little different though, as we also entered a Motown competition, blessedly, an indoors event. Mikes, lights, techies everywhere. What's more, we qualified from our heat to reach the final 10. I think that is remarkable for an unauditioned amateur choir like Crowd Around and especially since our competition was largely professional musicians. We didn't win the final but I am posting the performance as I think it shows the discipline that(almost all) the choir exhibited. There is a short intro by our choir director, Kate, prior to our singing Smokey Robinson's Tracks of My Tears. My son, Tom, makes a tiny cameo right at the end from stage left.

js43 our car collection 2

I can't remember the exact circumstances of the Mira's demise(see previous post). Nadia told me that the new teachers could only drive automatics, so that's why a new car was required. I recall something at the time about costly repairs to worn CV's. All I know is that a perfectly serviceable vehicle went to scrap well before it would have in Australia.

So when we arrived in Japan again about 18 months later, there was a new old car waiting. A Suzuki Alto. Another K-car. It looked remarkably like the Mira and I think I did a double take when I saw it sitting in the garage. The difference was the auto gearbox, air-conditioning that worked and automatic windows. It felt like the next model up from the Mira, if you get what I mean.

We used to take a back route(#49) via Moshi sometimes that wound through the mountains, on our way to and from classes in Sasayama. It was beautiful and narrow and bounded by growing tea fields and spectacular views. Streams dashed and gurgled over rocks and around tight bends with sharp-rising banks. The pic above shows the Alto at rest very near the crest of the range in 2004. We had stopped for a break near a tea farm and to take a few photos.

js42 our car collection 1

Yes School had its first 'teacher car' in 2000, a Daihatsu Mira that Duncan (the teacher before us) had purchased from a student. Prior to that, teachers with the school either walked, rode a bike or (apparently) could borrow a step-through motor scooter. I have my doubts about the latter as we only ever saw it in pieces at Stephanie's old place in Tomagaoka.

The Mira was a 660cc four speed manual micro-car which had a surprising zip around town and only threatened to expire when loaded up with passengers on a hill climb in the countryside. The air-conditioner was clapped out and front CV joint problems emerged by 2002. But it did manage a round trip to Hiroshima and many other excursions into the Sanda surrounds. And of course, it took us to classes that weren't scheduled at home, such as those at the Sakai and Nakano homes. It bore us safely through the night on our journey back from Sasayama.

In between our first and second visits, the Mira was carted off to the wrecker, a mere 60,000 kms on the clock. The photo above was taken in 2001 and shows Nadia with the car outside our bosses old house.