the odd other side

Dontcha just love political conservatives! Sometimes they open their mouths and say quite sensible things. Now and then their policies make sense. The centrist conservatives are even quite likeable. But there are some who just can't help themselves, put the boot into the less well off, exhibit that 'born to rule' arrogance. The further right they get, the more that strange little tick becomes evident. They become anti-science. They get all out of balance on economics. The ghost of Ayn Rand haunts their dreams.

I'll stay clear of Oz politics in exampling the above. Let's take the GOP in the US. Maybe this was a great broadly based party once, but at the present, it seems overwhelmed by small sectional interests. Specifically, the Tea Party. The Presidential hopefuls must all genuflect to these conservative activists in a way that entirely skews the party. Everyone of them is looking over their shoulder, trying, if not actually to court, then to avoid giving offence. This means being a bit whacko on climate change, very forthcoming on matters of faith, hugely opposed to 'big' government' and taxation of any kind, hard on the have-nots. And the lists goes on. There are some very esoteric issues that seem entirely detached from middle America.

Frontrunner Mitt Romney seems the safest pair of hands in the field, being a moderate, if inconsistent, Republican. Current flavour, Herman Cain, he of the self-made pizza empire, has a kind of non-political common touch and is, in the parlance, a 'straight shooter'. This means that there is less spin and more so-called honest commentary, and Mr Cain can provide this in spades. For example, in response to a question about the Occupy Wall Street movement, Mr Cain said "Don't blame the banks. If you don’t have a job and you’re not rich, blame yourself!” Clearly the candid Cain hadn't factored in the fact that Wall Street had actively encouraged the kinds of dodgy financial products that had eventually led to a credit crisis of massive proportions. These same banks has then put out their grubby hands for tax-payers money. People are angry about that. Wonder why?

early years 4

Later primary school was probably the epiphany of my educational experience, if measured on the happiness scale. We had moved to Killarney Heights in 1968, a fairly well-to-do suburb for young families. Good schools, bushland, organised sport, safety. That probably made it a good place to raise a family, supposing that family had sufficient internal cohesion, or stability. Ours was crumbling.

But the school environment was encouraging. In fourth grade, my teacher, Reginald Oldland, regailed us frequently with stories of his time in the RAF. It didn't take a lot to sidetrack him into a long digression on Spitfires and near misses, and being a Welshman, he had the gift of storytelling. He was firm but kind, an excellent educator who understood that life stories mattered as much as maths or english.

Upper primary was also a time of making new friends, in that innocent, open way that preteens have of doing it. I had lost contact with my Rose Bay Public friends, sadly, but others came along. At school recess and lunchtime, groups of boys would descend on the fringe of scrubby bush adjacent one of the buildings. I don't exactly remember the impulse, but the site became an intense place of digging and quarrying. Old bottles were filled with freshly powdered sandstone, dozens of small caves excavated in sandy banks became shelters for Crater-Critters, stories were told, broken and retold. The place seemed to have a slightly magical quality to it as I recall it through adult eyes. Even so, one day it became out of bounds, for reasons best known to parents and principals, so we all moved to the playground or the nearby oval. The end of a very small era.

By sixth grade I had the extra job, with best friend Wayne, of operating the PA system. Housed in a cupboard in the admin block, the PA had a record player and radio receiver. These were hooked up to the quad speakers and those quaint tannoys that used to grace each and every classroom. If there was a broadcast (this word still has an authority that belittles terms like podcast) we had to set the system up to run in the appropriate classroom. Most importantly, it was our job to set up the mikes and put on the morning 'marching music' following the assembly. The single LP selected for this job was one of Scottish tunes, replete with bagpipes and drums. The best tune with the most appropriate marching beat was preselected for us. I have a confession to make. One more than one occasion when my friend Wayne had the helm, so to speak (and I was out on the assembly), I had flipped the album over so that a different track was selected. A slow air.

That mischievous streak has got me into trouble more than once, I can assure you.

wet school hols

This is a long weekend and so, as if holidays and weather are determined by forces outside human understanding, it is cold and raining. It is also the middle of the school holidays, so the confluence of these mysterious events is doubly evident. But we have no real holiday plans, so staying indoors is just fine. This morning I had a swim at Lawson Pool (9 Deg. out, 26 Deg. in). The water was steaming in the chill air. Swimmers moved quickly between change room and pool; through my misted goggles they appeared as pale spectres dashing for cover.

Lately, as I briefly alluded to in the previous post, I have been listening to podcasts on my non-ipod mp3 player. A lot. Most of these recordings are news oriented, generally, political, specifically, American. I have found a number of sites, such as NPR, PBS, Slate and the New York Times that intelligently cover the current race within the Republican Party to find a nominee for the general election at the end of next year. It's interesting because firstly, it isn't Australian politics (which means I don't have an emotional connection) and secondly, the race is genuinely fascinating. I won't bore you with the details of my fascination, except to say that the US is a remarkable democracy comprising many larger than life characters. Running for President might be the toughest thing a person could ever do in a lifetime.

I have also been reading more since Nadia very kindly gave me a Kindle for Father's Day. While it tends to tie me to Amazon, there is such a vast trove of free and pay texts there that I don't really mind. I love the text interface (what's wrong with page? -ed.) which looks like the real thing. No back-lighting either, which gives my eyes a break. The temptation to load the reader with hundreds of free texts is always there, but I have been trying to practice discernment, the enemy of mass consumerism. Anyway, I do like the Kindle.

Finally there have been a lot of social events on our calendar - birthdays, gigs, visits by overseas friends - which have kept us busy. As I write, Nadia is recording harmonies for the band she is in. She is become more accomplished with every rehearsal.

long time

Yes, I haven't blogged in three weeks and it's now October 1st. No excuses, just clients, volunteering, reading, swimming, home-stay, music and The Cat Returns. Oh, and many, many podcasts.

Explanation, in due course.