24 posts tagged “qotd”

What three things do you regret not learning to do?

This is sort of an odd question - there's still time for nearly all of us to learn new things, isn't there?  So I'm going to answer it as "three things I intend learning how to do" instead.

1. Make puppets and plush toys.  This is something I wanted to learn while I was at home with The Boy full time for a year but just sort of didn't get to it.  But I've had this idea for ages of making my own hand puppets (a ninja, pirate, king, monkey, those sorts of characters) and then constructing a little Punch and Judy style stage thingy to put shows on for the kids.  Honestly.  How much fun would that be?
2. Purchase and learn how to play a piano accordion.  My wife, naturally, isn't too keen on this one, but it's one of those instruments that I've always had a desire to master.  That way, when I'm in my 60s, I can be one of those old guys in a beret sitting on a bench at the neighbourhood shops/mall playing lovely continental tunes.  Not to mention all the tango and traditional Finnish music I could learn as well.  Oh, and I'm hoping to get a digital drumset at some point and teach myself drumming, something I can plug headphones into so I can keep it to myself until I'm at least listenable.
3. Read the classics.  I still haven't read authors like Dickens, Hemingway, Proust, George Orwell's essays, some of the ancient Greeks, you know what I mean. 

There are, of course, more items that I could add to this list.  As I think I've mentioned in the past, I tend to find a topic and learn everything I can about it.  Lately it's been fedoras (after a bit of research and consideration I picked one up the other day, which means that I'm now "that guy in the hat" as I walk to and from work), but study has meant that I've pretty much had to put my own eccentric interests aside and focus on specific subjects instead.  Having knocked off one more course last week with a less than satisfactory 6,700 word essay, I have one more course to go before finishing the Masters completely. 

And it happens to have its assessment due about a week and a bit before K's due date, which, considering that The Boy was six weeks early, means that realistically I should aim to have the single 7,000 word essay submitted by the end of June.  So having had last weekend off, I'll be back into reading and research come this Anzac Day long weekend and all the weekends after... 

Do you believe that ignorance is bliss?

No.  There's nothing particular blissful about being ignorant of things that may affect you.

I figure ignorance probably falls into two categories, using some Rumsfeldian reasoning:

1. not knowing what you don't know - an inadvertent ignorance, you haven't been exposed to an issue or a piece of information before and you simply didn't know it existed; and
2. knowing what you don't know and choosing not to know about it - say you're a committed fan of the book of Genesis and one day you hear about this 'evolution" thing that some guy by the name of Darwin did a bit of work on around 150-odd years ago.  But because it would seem to threaten your fandom, you'd prefer not to know about it thanks and, indeed, you can't help find the idea a little threatening 'cos it would affect your established views which is one of the few things you feel you have any control over.

So, you know, ignorance can be problematic.

Which is not to say that there aren't uses for category two either.  I, for instance, don't have any particular desire to know about the fuel composition used in shuttle launches.  I have no need for it nor do I have an anticipated need for this knowledge (participation in a trivia night aside).  But I wouldn't be hostile to such knowledge.  So maybe ignorance is coupled with intent.

We're in an age where we have access, within mere moments, to the biggest information stores our little old species have ever experienced.  We google, we wiki, we research the limits of mediator liability at Casebook Online (just to throw out a random example) [glances at pile of articles currently being worked through], all for the sake of knowledge. 

How could anyone want to be ignorant in this day and age, bliss or no?

Today is "No Housework Day." Tell us: What's your least favorite chore around the house?

The only thing I really struggle with, the only thing, is cleaning the bathroom.  I tend to just go in there and blitz it with chemicals and scourers and scrubbing brushes, do a great job and then leave it alone for 3 months until my wife goes ahead and cleans (which isn't much of an option right now given her pregnancy) or I finally relent. 

Everything else I do with no problems, toilets, kitchens, floors, could be better with dusting but yeah, just bathrooms are the problem for me.  I'm planning on doing it the weekend after this one given I'm quite busy with essay work right now.  Speaking of which, back to it...

If you were sent to prison for an undefined amount of time, what would you miss most?

Uh, yeah.  I believe the correct answer would be my freedom. Given that's sort of one of the points of prison and all.  Freedom of movement, of association, being able to see people like, say, my family when I wanted.

I know a few people who've been and they've mentioned the endless boredom.  I could kind of see myself doing situps and pushups and working on my rehabilitation really.  It would probably be a good idea to get a bit zen, as per the tv show Life. 

What superpower would you most like to have?

Brandi: [calm and nefarious tone] Second Suitor? If you were a comic book character, what character would you be?

Brodie: [Brodie is caught off guard, but delighted with the question] Wow! That's a great question. Tough one, though I mean, what does one gauge his response on: physical prowess, Keen detection skills? The ability to banter well with super villians?

Brandi: [interupting] How's your comic book collection, Brodie?

Brodie: Oh it's goin' good. But, I mean...

Brodie: [T.S. punches Brodie's arm and shows an angry look, realizing they have been made] Oh, comics? what are you talkin' about lady? I don't collect comics! Comics are for kids!

The question made me think of Mallrats, the much under-rated second film from Kevin Smith.  Being silly, I have given this some thought and decided upon time travel.  And if that's not considered to be a superpower, then I'd settle for Spiderman-style agility and reflexes.

Where do you find your personal strength?

Ah, bugger.  There's a real risk I'm going to come away sounding like a complete mook talking about this, but what the hell.

Where do I find my personal strength.  I think I have several sources.  I don't have a lot of faith - be it religious faith but more faith in a personal sense.  Faith in myself.  Faith that things will work themselves out ok.  I need to work on that, as I think I doubt myself much too much.  It doesn't matter what what I achieve, it feels like it's never enough.  I don't take praise well, for example - by the time the praiser has finished talking I'm usually thinking about the next thing to do.  It's never enough. 

I find strength in a certain sense of personal culture, inevitably linked to ethnicity.  The Finns have a term, sisu, which roughly translates as an inner sense of stoic endurance.  I think of sisu when I think of personal strength.  I find personal strength at the piano, and in the structures of the sil lam tao form.  I know I'm lacking strength when I feel as though I'm missing a surety of purpose.   

I also think of Henry Rollins (whom I've written of before) when I think of personal strength.  When I was a younger and more passionate man, I listened a lot to Henry Rollins' spoken word material.  I'll never forget something he said about dealing with the general shite that gets thrown at you, it was something like

When life hands you a lemon, you don't need to be like some kind of public service ad with a "Make Lemonade!".  When life hands you a lemon say "Oh yeah, I like lemons - what else you got?".

It loses something when it's written down.  But it's the grind.  About accepting it and internalising it and using it as a driver, turning it into a source of strength, like alchemy.     

How are you a better person today than you were ten years ago?
Sponsored by Nature Made.

Phew.  This is kind of a tough one.  I mean, I was what I was then and I am what I am now - maybe it's not so much about good and bad and just different.  Ten years from now I'd prefer not to be beating myself up about what a dick I am now when that's not really the case.  And nor was it back then, though my oh my, I can hang on to my mistakes.

Nevertheless, this is something I've sort of been thinking about anyway given that I'm coming up to nine years of living in Canberra.

I think I'm less selfish than I used to be.  And that this is largely due to my wife, who stuck with me when I worked out all the guystuff I had to work out.  I know I've got a little more white in my beard, and that it gets whiter every time I shave my beard off (usually every equinox and solstice - so this Saturday will be the first for the year). 

I'm a little less strong but I'm much surer, deft, even, about how to use the strength I've got.

I think I'm both smarter and wiser, noting that the former comes from study and the latter from reflection and experience.

I have a bit more confidence, which probably comes from caring less about what others think of me.  With this, however, is a certain degree of arrogance.  Humility is something I've been contemplating for the past few months now, how to live it.

I think I have a lot more love, and that it's due in no small part to fatherhood.  Speaking of which, I'll end this odd little post with no. 2 news - 20 week scan last week, two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes, big brain, beat beat beating heart, amazing little thing, felt the first kicks a few weeks ago.  We're having trouble coming up with boy names which is leading me to think that my initial instincts about having a girl may be off the mark - we had the same problem with R, lots of names for girls but only a handful for boys.  We'll see.  But yes, so far so good.

What's your favorite ingredient to cook with?

Garlic.  Gotta have it.  I seem to start most of our meals with heating up some reasonably good quality olive oil and then adding some garlic to the pan, before the rest of the flavours and goodies.  One thing I tend to do is to put cloves cut in half into a glass of milk for a while before using it for mashed potato.  See I think that it's ok for garlic clove bits to be through the mash, like it adds flavour and a little bit of caution to every mouthful.  My wife doesn't see it that way though.  Me having a laugh every time she bites into a piece and grimaces theatrically doesn't help either, admittedly.

If you had to teach something, what would you teach?

Easy, I'd teach music.  It was originally an ambition of mine back in high school to be a music teacher and I remember doing my work experience as a primary school music teacher which was a lot of fun.  I taught casually while I was at uni, a couple of kids whose mum I worked at the supermarket with.  I remember running into her years later and she was telling me that the boys went on to be a part of the Melbourne live music scene, but buggered if I can remember the name of the band now.

Second subject would probably be social studies or something.  A bit of sociology, a bit of modern history, a decent sized chunk of politics and government thrown in.  Generalist stuff, I guess.

Have you ever broken a bone? If not, what's the worst injury you've sustained?

Couple of posts from me today as I'm having sort of a "pottering around" day, catching up on doing a few things around the house while looking askance at the some 250-odd pages of articles and reports I need to start researching about privacy law and the Job Network.

So.  Bones.  Yeah, I've broken a few. 

First one was when I was about 8 or 9 years ago, we'd just moved from Inala to Loganlea in Brisbane (sort of out of the frying pan into a slightly less hot frying pan really) and I was pissed off at mum about something, stormed onto the bmx and said "Dammit, I am going to have a go at that jump down at the park all the other kids have been playing on".  So you can guess what happened next.  I basically learned that in order to do any kind of jump on a bike, it helps to lift the front wheel as you do so.  I went end over end and broke my collarbone.  Spent a good few minutes lying in the dust moaning too, even calling out for help, while suburban mothers closed the kitchen curtains and looked the other way.  Dragged my shit together and hobbled home.  

Second must have been the broken wrist.  Just sort of came off the bike riding home from high school around age 15.  Rotten thing was that I had a piano exam in four weeks' time, so we ended up having to forfeit the exam fee (a not inconsiderable sum according to my parents) and I had to wait another three to six months before I could have another go.  I remember mum was a real hardarse about it - keep in mind she's an experienced nurse - and wouldn't believe it was broken for a few days, thinking it was just a bad sprain.  I had to sit a maths exam and everything before we got a cast put on, sheesh.

Third would be the cracked ribs I got playing american football, which I've mentioned before.  Then a couple of broken fingers playing basketball, both times from a pass from the same guy (thanks Tim).  Must've been after we stopped being in a band together, I can't imagine I would have been able to play bass during that time.  Was hard to type, naturally - I was working in a public contact area and kept on having to explain why my fingers were taped up.  To this day I don't use the three left-most fingers on my left hand when working away.

Pretty sure that's it, thankfully I haven't had anymore though that's probably due to not playing sport or cycling that much anymore (there was a time in my life I had to stop riding as I was just so uncoordinated, and the fear has never quite left me).  I've had the usual range of cuts and burns and everything leading to a few gnarly scars around the place, but that's nothing new.  Some of the scars on my hands (and one or two faint ones on my face) positively add character and give me the excuse to spin a bit of bullshit to The Boy about it when he's older...