Manhunt in Mitcham

In my past, I used to work as a bookkeeper for a non-profit organisation in Mitcham, an eastern suburb of Melbourne. (Can you imagine me balancing books and writing financial reports? Either this organisation enjoyed taking risks or they were desperate). Anyways, I digress.

On a Wednesday morning, I woke up late and missed my train. So, by the time I arrived at the Mitcham train station, I was one hour late. Normally, it was required of me to walk roughly two kilometres to my workplace. Today, I was struck by a briliant idea and proceeded to ask for a ride from someone in the carpark. (Before I continue, my action is justified since I grew up in a third world country and catching rides from strangers is a natural thing to do.) So, I quickly approached a small hatchback and was about to knock on the window. The driver, who was a young female, panicked and drove off; even though I was dressed in a smart business attire and was carrying a briefcase.

Let us take a moment and consider my situation. I am one hour late and have just frightened a random, young female driver.

So, my mode of transportation changed and I proceeded to walk. One hundred metres from my workplace, a police car approached me (with its siren on - as if I could not see it). A police officer stepped out dressed in a fluorescent yellow vest and asked me, "We are looking for a man who matches your description. Apparently, this man tried to attack a women in her car." Now, firstly, I would love to know what my description was. Secondly, why are they looking for me?

For the next thirty minutes, I experienced the Spanish Inquisition all over again. The police officer interrogated me regarding my occupation, why I needed a ride and so on. All of this on the street in public view for all and sundry to see. After the officer was satisfied that I was being honest, he pulled out his walkie talkie and said "Cancel, Cancel, Cancel, We found the man."

Let us take a moment and consider my situation. I am one hour and a half hour late, have frightened a random, female driver, and am being publicly interrogated by the police.

The police officer turned to me and said, "Do you realise that there is a manhunt looking for you?" Of course, my answer was no. (At this point, I should have run into the side streets and hid beneath the bushes.) He said, "Yes, there are dogs, one divisional van, two police cars and a helicopter looking for you." (Now, what should be my reaction to this?) He then said, "Please don't hitchhike. This lady was so frightened she dialled Emergency (000)."

FINALLY, I arrived at my workplace. More than two hours late. As I walked in the door, my boss wished to speak to me. I knew there were two possible outcomes : either he would fire me or he would see the funny side of the situation and laugh. Fortunately, my boss is irish and chose the latter option.........

........whenever a helicopter flew over the workplace, everyone looked at me.

In conclusion, I would to apologise to this random, female driver who I never met. My humble apologies. I would also like to thank all the taxpayers for covering the expenses of the manhunt in Mitcham.

Merry Christmas

On my last day of work, I wished my colleague a Merry Christmas and he turned to me and said "No, Happy Holidays!"  I was struck by how one day of the year, Christmas, has been changed and re-labelled.  How the frantic purchase of gifts and yearly photo with Santa Claus take precedence.  As we sing carols, there is a strange blend of Jingle Bells, Santa Claus, Rudolph combined with 3 Kings, Away in a Manger, O Holy Night, Silent Night.  I feel confused since it is as if there are two distinct holidays being celebrated.  One focuses on a jolly man from an unknown area with 12 reindeers that can deliver gifts everywhere.  (Santa Claus, or St Nicholas, has been commercialised from his true nature.  If you trace back to the origins of St. Nicholas, there are a myriad of tales of his origins as a saint who gave gifts)  The other one focuses on a unusual and bizarre account of a baby in a manger surrounded by shepherd and farm animals.  

A clue to what Christmas is about is found in the first six letters of the word Christmas. Christmas also has mention of a baby born in a manger and Mary and Joseph and shepherds. There seems to be a clash between the spending of cash and a baby in a manger.  So, what is it about this baby that generates so much interest?  So, I quickly dashed to faithful Wikipedia and Google to research about this baby; who was born to die.  We seem to focus on the birth of baby Jesus and forget that baby Jesus grew up be a man who died on a cross.  It sounds so morbid and dark.  The celebration of the birth of a baby.  In four months at Easter time, we will remember the death of this baby.  

Perhaps I am morbid to speak about the death of a baby.  Perhaps the fact that the account of the birth of this baby should be remembered even after two thousand years is significant and worth considering further.  As a christian, I have the strong conviction that the greatest gift that was given is Jesus coming to earth.  The frantic and blunt focus on purchasing and buying simply detracts from Jesus.  I did enjoy receiving gifts; but, the true nature is that the greatest gift was one I did not deserve.  The birth of Jesus should be remembered and cherished every day not just once a year.  Let us not forget that baby Jesus grew to become a man who died for all people.  This will be remembered at Easter time (again, we are distracted by the Easter bunny - but thats another blog).

The Ugly Duckling

A weeks ago, my car was broken, my passenger door lock was jimmied and my GPS was stolen.  It was tragic and I felt violated.  Why me?  How dare they?  

To make matters worse, I experienced the joys of liasing between a mechanic and a bureaucratic insurance company.  Finally on Friday, the insurance company settled the payment and my mechanic began work on the remnants of my car lock and handle.  I was elated.

But, I needed a car to get to work.  Fortunately, there was a car rental yard next door.  The name of this place was the Ugly Duckling (this should have my first warning).  This business establishment comprised of one shack and five or six random cars.  I drove away with a white, 8 cylinder, manual Ford Falcon and I was thrilled at the power.  After all, I have only been driving a small Hyundai Excel.  As I was cruising to work, an emergency light flashed on the dashboard and the temperature gauge soared through the roof.  This could not be good.  So, I rang the owner fo the Ugly Duckling and he asked that I turn around and bring the car back.  As I drove back into the yard, smoke began to pour out of the front of the Falcon; as the owner of the Ugly Duckling watched; as potential customers looked.  (This was not great advertising)  So, the owner quickly apologised for the inconvenience and gave me another car at no cost.  

Let us pause and consider my situation.  By now, I am late for work and have driven an overheated car at potential risk of arrest or even death.

The next car was a light brown, rusted, manual Datsun 400 King Cab ute or pickup truck.  I was less elated.  It was a vast improvement in that I survived the trek to work, except the rain seeped through the rusted roof (mild inconvenience).  So after finally arriving at work, I parked my dilapidated hired truck next to the executive cars owned by my managers.  

Let us once again consider my situation.  I am two hours late for work, wet from the rain; having driven a rust bucket.

Well, the next morning I returned my hired pickup truck to the Ugly Duckling fifteen minutes after nine am.  The owner was upset because he was supposed to close at nine am.  Who closes their business at nine am on a Saturday morning?   Apparently, he was annoyed because the white Ford Falcon overheated and the alternator belt broke and the cost to fix it was high; as if it were my fault.  So, he charged me ten dollars for the petrol and that was the end of my dealing with the Ugly Duckling.   

So, the Ugly Duckling will never become a beautiful Swan.

Global Financial Crisis

The Global Financial Crisis has finally hit me in a personal way.  I was ordering my daily large hazelnut cappucino when I realised I did not have enough cash.  So,  all I could afford was a small cappucino, no hazelnut.  It was tragic.

Right now, we are being assaulted by terms (de-leveraging and sub-prime mortgages) and concepts that we would have never heard of five years ago.  We are hearing of companies and banks (Freddy Mac and Fannie Mae - who thinks of these names anyways) that would not have mattered to us in the past. We are taking an interesting in other nations economies more than ever.  Japan have announed that they are in a recession with 0% interest rate.  Iceland is bankrupt.  The mighty United States of America is announcing a one trillion bailout. 

But let me go a step further.  In a third world country, some suffer a global financial crisis DAILY and yet there is not bailout plan available .  First and foremost, they spend money (they physically have) to eat to face another day.  Instead, we (from a first world economy) can purchase (almost) whatever we like whenever we like, based on credit (money we don't have).

It can be argued that first and third world countries have different economies and cannot be compared.    But, lets face it, borrowing money you don't have (this is called credit) and having companies lend money they don't have is not ideal.  Basically, a greater awareness is necessary of how every cent spent affects the almighty dollar or is it yen or is it peso?!

So, the entire world is united in this global financial crisis.  A financial crisis has accomplished what no other summit or political leader or treaty has.

Meanwhile, I sip contentedly on my large hazelnut cappucino, which I bought on credit.

Lost Season 5

In February of 2009, if all goes to plan (no more writer's strike), the new season of Lost arrives.

I AM EXCITED BEYOND EXCITED

Why you may ask?  Good question.  I am glad u asked.

Because its the beginning of the end.  I have faithfully watched flash-backs and flash-forwards interweave the lives of all the characters.  I have fallen in love with the smoky monster.  

Season 4 ended with 

• Locke supposedly dead in a casket
• A missing island
• 6 hopelessly lying depressed survivors
• Sawyer without a shirt
• Jin is lost (no pun intended)
• Ben is gone or is he
• Walt is grown up
• Michael is dead
• Smoky Monster still reigns
• Benson the dog is thouroughly enjoying his time on the island
• Claire is reunited with her father who is also Jack's father in Jacob's cabin (sounds like title for a movie)

So, basically, the all knowing executives from ABC have decreed that Lost will end and they will no longer be lost.  2 more seasons with 17 episodes each.  OK, here are some questions that have to be answered in the space of 34 episodes.

• What is going on?  (Is this too much to ask)
• Is Ben a good guy or a bad guy
• Why does Widmore and Ben hate each other so much?
• Who will Kate choose : Jack or Sawyer or Hurley?
• Smoky monster : what are you?
• How do the six survivors return to the island?
• Is Locke really dead?
• Is Jin really dead?
• Is Michael really dead?
• What is with Hurley and the numbers?
• Who is Jacob?

These are a few of the many questions.  There is a definite end.  So, in theory, all questions will be answered.  But this is Lost, so who knows?  Maybe there will be a spin-off series called Lost Again.  Or a crossover series where Jack Bauer gets Lost. 

 On a side note, why are all male TV or movie characters called Jack (ie. Jack Ryan, Jack Bauer, Jack Sheppard)  This will be pondered in another blog.

The indication of how popular and impacting Lost has become is by how widespread it is known.  Everywhere you go, everyone has an opinion.  Love it or hate it this show has lasted the distance.