Archive for Personal

Only worth half the curse

Ah finally I can sit down tonight and sip my wine…. Tonight I just realised that the humble washing machine is a complex piece of machinery that I could not live without. If I were on my own, I would not mind not having one, I would prefer to have a trip to a laundrette to do my wash but since having an ankle biter, we have at least two loads a day to wash.

On Tuesday night, the darn thing started to play up. I had to rescue a load of my baby boy’s clothing as it has been sitting there for hours. The problem seems to be a clogged pump filter according to the manual. I took out the filter and found these treasures in there – four AU$2 coins and three 5 cent coins. I was happy to see them as I could definitely enjoy a large hot cuppa with these found treasures on my next trip to Gloria Jeans. I put back the filter, switched the machine on and guess what – it did not work. For the past three nights I have been doing the washing sort of in semi-automatic mode. I would let the machine do the wash and I did the manual pump override. It wasn’t a walk in the park because I did the job until 10:30pm waiting for the cycles to finish – for the love of my son indeed.

I could not afford to get a new washing machine and was becoming resigned to the fact that this is going to be my night life as a Rock Dad until I can afford one. I could just see myself playing a guitar to this white boxy thing and if ever the missus asked me where the hell I am taking my guitar and amplifier with me, I would just say – “Sweetie, I’ve got a gig with the washing machine tonight.”.

As what a bloke would do, I had enough and decided to give it a go. I pulled the back of the washing machine off and pulled the top off and tried to get access to the pump. After an hour of analysing and fidgeting I have decided to tilt the machine sideways to allow me to access the solenoid and twist the hose a bit. What a pain – poor design on the manufacturer I would say because there is no way to access the pump except through the bottom or by completely dismantling the machine. Suddenly I thought, I should try to move the impeller manually by the use of a long screw driver. As soon as I directed the torch, there it was like a tiny devil smiling at me peeping in the corner and hoping not to get noticed – a 10 cent coin… I was spewing (Australian for really mad) and cursing and fidgeting and bending and kneeling and poked and poked and poked and cursed some more until I got it an hour and a half later.

One thing I learnt tonight is the most basic of all things which is attention to detail….. It was not a 10 cent coin, it was a 5 cent coin instead…. Nearly the most expensive 5 cent coin I have ever seen. You beauty!

More Than A Feeling

Yesterday I went to Borders and picked up a magazine (Classic Rock issue 105, May 2007). I like this magazine and have been buying it a month late because it costs AU$22 freshly imported from the UK but give it a few weeks it goes half the price. It is an Awesome “maga”.

I woke up this morning and prepared my brekky. Turning the pages and there it was on page 11 – Brad Delp (June 12, 1951 – March 9, 2007). I do not know about you but surely this news I have never heard of down under. He did not even make it on the telly…. Why? Is it perhaps, “depression” in men is seen as weakness and is denied the fact that it is serious for some. Mid-life-crisis is a term we joke about to hide the evil of depression.

I always play the intro of “More Than A Feeling”. I play it to my son on the weekends and when I get home from a tiring day at work. I love this song – I have four different CDs containing this song (1) Boston Best Of (2) Bogan – simply the best Rock Album (3) Rock for Aussie Dads & (4) The Boys are Back in Town.

“So many people have come and gone,
Their faces fade as the years go by;
Yet I still recall as I wonder on, as clear as the sun
In the summer sky”

– sung by Brad Delp (1951-2007) of the amazing band BOSTON.

Brad, YOU are one of the many reasons why I picked up a guitar. Mate, you’ll be missed as my guitar gently weeps.