The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: May 2011.

The Good:  The end of Uni semester.

The day after I handed in my last essay, I bumped into someone I had just seen the week prior. They stopped me asking if I had just come back from holiday. Apparently I was glowing and looked really relaxed. They were shocked when I responded ‘no’. I then realised that my relaxed state must be because of the end of uni stress and pressure, well ‘the end’ until it starts again in August. Still, once second semester is over, it will be as if I have taken another holiday!!… which is kind of like having had two ‘holidays’ in a year… how very decadent of me!!! I suddenly feel very sated. I can’t recall ever having two holidays in year (Does going to Hobart twice in one winter (when I was retrenched) count?, it is only Hobart...).

 

The Bad: Having no idea, but thinking you do.

Sometimes, as my friends are well aware, I think I am 110% sure of something and will argue the point till I am blue in the face. I am sure you will not be surprised to hear that it often turns out that I am wrong…very often and often very wrong. The funny thing is, it’s usually about silly things, take for example a recent discussion.

I was at a friend’s house and had brought along an across-the-shoulder bag that I had purchased last year to use whilst travelling overseas. The bag has some great security features (slash proof, etc) and looks like a normal across-the-shoulder bag. One feature that I thought was impractical was the zip that zipped closed towards the back of me. Really, it should zip towards the front of me so that no one can walk behind me and try to unzip it and take stuff out of the bag. This was discussed and my friends agreed with me until….I stated that the reason that the bag zipped this way was because it was for American’s who are all as we know, left handed. They would obviously wear the shoulder bag on the other side and as such, it would zip closed towards the front of them… My friends responded with WTF? I then confidently and patiently explained my point again (thinking I was brilliant and was educating my poor unknowledgable friends), said friends stared at me silently for a few moments, I guess wondering who amongst them was going to be the one to burst my bubble of self delusion. We did all have a good laugh about it…Alarmingly though, I have been going around matter-of-factly saying that Americans are all left handed to so many people for so long now and I can be persuasive….

The Ugly: The cold sore.

With recent uni and other stresses, a cold sore erupted, jutting out from my left lower lip like an Easter Island statue. Work colleagues declared that it was hardly visible- ‘oh no, I wouldn’t have noticed it, unless you pointed it out’ etc… so yes, I work with liars, which was confirmed when I saw the cleaner at work later that day (who has limited English, coming from a non English speaking country). From 25 metres away she pointed accusingly at my lip and demanded ‘what’s that on your face?’ As she walked towards me with finger outstretched, I shat myself  fearing the worst. Was she going to cast magic on me, or cast me out of the workplace? Insane thoughts ran through my brain, silenced only by her arrival in front of me. But then...then, her outstretched finger found my cold sore and started to rub it vigorously.

Her: ‘What is this?, It won’t come off!’

Me: (In a state of shock and horror, barely able to whisper) ‘wash your hands!’

Her: (annoyed) ‘My hands are clean!’

Me: (louder now, though still shocked and slightly paralysed) ‘No. You need to wash your hands’

Her: (becoming insulted by my command) ‘No! I washed them before, they are clean!’

She then pulled the cold sore rubbing finger away from me, only to then rub her own lip with it! Yes, sadly this is true. I have no idea why she rubbed her lip with the same finger.

I sighed heavily, letting out a barely audible ‘oh my god’. I turned and walked away, there was nothing more for me to do. My head hung low, as I made my way back to my desk. I was heavy with the knowledge that I have just passed on herpes simplex to someone else. I also regretted the fact that I didn’t grab her hand after she rubbed my cold sore, dragged her to the sink and insisted she wash her finger. But knowing my luck that would have started a physical brawl and between me and a 6ft tall, solid and strong African lady, no bets on who the winner would be. 

What is it with….. the public nose pick and not taking a stand against it?

        I had a lecturer who would stand in front of the class and constantly pick and play with his nose. He would demonstrate a variety of picking techniques, such as: The ‘sneaky pick’- where the finger scoots up the nose a bit, stops- thinking it has been sprung, withdraws (either slowly or quickly). But then like a sneaky ninja,  it strikes unexpectedly!; the ‘hesitant pick’-where the finger just enters the nose, pauses (may withdraw and start again) and then goes in quickly and shallowly (this one is the ‘why bother’ of nose picking); the ‘quick thumb pick’-where the thumb rests just on the outside of the nose opening and then like a sneaky ninja, scoops up, in and out - bringing its stolen treasures along with it; The ‘scratch pick’- which is a deceptive bugger, it starts off as a quick scratch, but then (again like a sneaky ninja) the finger quickly shoots up, in and out.  Obviously these are but a few of the many and varied nose picking techniques known to humanity. 

        Alas, If I was enrolled in nose picking 101, or even in advanced nose picking I would have learnt much, but I wasn’t. Instead I found myself so distracted by my lecturer’s nose picking shenanigans that I lost most of the lecture! I have no idea what was being said, the act itself was too hypnotic and horrifying ‘I tells ya’!!!  A few times I came close to saying something to my lecturer…. In my head it was all worked out,  I would slam my hand on the desk, stand up and say “for the love of Christ man, stop picking your frigging nose!”, but my friends and class mates all said  ‘No, that would be inappropriate!’ Apparently my suggestion of politely asking his assistant to talk to him about it, was also seen as being inappropriate. 

         I ask you, is it appropriate to pick your nose in public, in the office or anywhere others are present? Shouldn’t we be stamping out this kind of anti-social behaviour, rather than stopping those that dare to right social wrongs? Those dear brave souls who lay their lives (and potential marks on their assignments) on the line, to stand up and say: this is not right! And it cannot be tolerated anymore!!!  Those brave souls who demand an end to student’s essays being touched by snot covered ninja fingers (and then returned back to them!). Stand tall and proud with those that dare to be brave and support them dear friend! For today it may ‘just’ be picking ones nose, but tomorrow…tomorrow it could become so much more, so much worse!

Smog, Rock Bottom Risers and opportunities for us all. - Repost of a piece originally posted 23/04/2007

For some reason this old blog piece came to mind this morning and wouldn't leave. I was reminded about some intimate conversations that came out of it, friends sharing their own stories, some tearfully. I was reminded of how much I also loved Smog's album "A river ain't too much to love". It was constantly on the cd player and it now also sits amongst other records in my vinyl collection .
I thought that now would be an appropriate time to revisit this piece. Part love letter to the album, part recollection of my past and part comment on the responsibilities attached to education. It personally reads as a little disjointed in parts, but out of respect to the piece and the time it was written, I will leave it intact albeit with a few very minor changes.
regards
matthew

 

Sometimes I think of where I came from and where I am now, and I don't know whether to feel pride or awkwardness. I started with nothing and now I have something, but what does that all mean? Have I left behind all I know and all I was, only to arrive someplace else, someplace full of strangers? Has my life become something better, or just something different?

Bill Callahan (also known as Smog), seems to understand. He talks of those close to him helping him transcend who he was and then leaving them behind: 'I left my mother, I left my father, I left my sisters too. I left them standing on the banks …they pulled me out of this mighty, mighty river' (from 'Rock bottom riser'). The track 'rock bottom riser' is an acknowledgement and an ode - 'I brought this guitar to pledge my love, to pledge my love to you. I am a rock bottom riser and I owe it all to you.' Unfortunately sometimes when we change and rise above, not everybody understands and Bill knows this: 'Why is everybody looking at me, like there is something fundamentally wrong? Like I'm a southern bird, that stayed north too long' (from 'Palimpsest'). He seems to understand my dilemma.

The album is called 'a river ain't too much to love' by Smog. It is sparse and warm. When you listen to it, you feel like a friend is confiding in you. It makes you feel special and connected. Every time I listen to it, I tend to reflect on my life and myself. I have always felt different, like I was meant for something more, something better and bigger. Arrogance at any early age?, I don't know.

I grew up in Collingwood, an inner city suburb of Melbourne. Unlike now, then it was full of factories, migrants and the poor. I lived on a housing commission estate and like many others, had to deal with the general issues around growing up and going to school, as well as issues all to common in environments such as ours;  families struggling to deal with feelings of disappointment, helplessness, poverty, failure, bullying, anger, abuse and alcoholism. I left school at 16, part way through year 10. I worked in a shoe factory for a year and a half and then started an apprenticeship as a cabinet maker. After six months into the apprenticeship I realised that this was not the life for me and I decided to go back to school, despite pressure from some family members not to. It was not long after I returned to school that we were taken on an excursion to a local textile factory. We were given a tour and told how the textile industry had changed over time. We were also told how much money we could make a week working there. For 16 year old's (I was a bit older), who mostly came from families living on unemployment/sickness benefits or low working wages, it was impressive amount. I recall many eyes ablaze at the thought of all of that money, and on a weekly basis! We were told that we were at, or approaching the age where we could leave school and enter the workforce if we wanted to. Any interested people, and there were a few, could speak to our tour guide after the tour (who also happened to be the foreman).    

I remember feeling angry at this, outrage in fact! This wasn't an educational outing, it was a recruitment drive. It was the academic establishment offering us up as factory fodder, because they felt that it was all we could ever be. They didn't seem to have the inkling to push us further academically, or perhaps the ability or funding to do so. In my experience in the factory environment I found it repetitive, monotonous, the pay terrible, and on only a very few occasions did I have any feelings of worth or accomplishment. I realise that this is not the same for all, but surely the education system shouldn't just give up. Or worse, make a judgement that this should be the calling of some students, and then whitewash it as an educational field trip.

Children in low socio-economic areas already have so much stacked against them, that we can't just give up on them because we lack vision. Sure it can be tough for all involved, some kids manifest their home frustrations through aggression at school, some have been convinced by parents that they won't amount to much anyway and are wasting time at school when they could be out 'there' earning a wage. The education system has a responsibility to reach out and ensure all receive a chance in life to be the best they can, to realise their potential. We need to ensure that we are creating equal opportunity for all to succeed. Especially in times like these where IR laws are disadvantaging workers even more, with lower wages and conditions. Historically the poor always come off the worse for wear. We need special programs not only for the academically challenged, but also for those who have challenging home lives that may affect their ability to concentrate and achieve their full potential, we need to reach those that do not believe that they can achieve or even deserve to. We need to inspire and raise up the hearts and hopes of those around us. As members of a 'civilised society', don't we have a responsibility to each other to support, love and encourage? Education is fundamentally important in life. Programs that assist the disadvantaged to reach their potential may exist out there, I hope so, I just know that I didn't see or experience them myself when I was at school. 

I stop typing and turn my head toward the stereo. The song 'say valley maker' is playing. The lyrics resonate with me; 'bury me in water, and I will geyser, bury me in fire and I'm gonna phoenix'. I understand the sentiment. I will be all I can no matter what you try to do to stop me. I will succeed because I am strong of will and mind, I am focused and I am driven to do so and above all I am stubborn. I let my thoughts return to the music that is playing. The simpleness of the words contrast with the richness and depth of their meaning. I smile. The track 'Let me see the colts' starts with 'Knocked on your door at dawn, with a spark in my heart'. What wonderful imagery. I love Bill Callahan's use of language. It's the language of the everyday person. He sometimes repeats phrases and ideas to stress their importance or the person's inability to express themselves any other way. Just like real life, just like myself at times. He casually mentions religion, and in a few simple lines reduces the arguments around it to a basic and honest level: '… god is a word, and the argument ends there.' (from 'I feel like the mother of the world').

These are but some of many the moments of beauty that the album is infused with. One of the most enduring aspects of 'a river ain't too much to love' is the ability it gives listeners to explore the layers of meaning and sound over repeated listens. I personally thank Smog/ Bill Callahan for the hope he provides in the lyric 'no matter how far wrong you've gone, you can always turn around' (from 'I'm new here'). I guess I could turn around and return to whence I came… but would I fit back in? do I want to? No. I have become a different person, a better person than the one I was and I am closer in becoming the person I have wanted to be for so long. Albums like this give me cause for reflection and in doing so allow me to realise just how far I have come on my journey and just how much I have achieved. They remind me to celebrate. They also provide comfort in letting me know that while I may feel isolated at times I am not alone. As for the sadness I sometimes feel during remembrance of what I have left behind, I have learnt that we can't take it all with us and somethings are better left behind. I have made sure that the things most important to me aren't left behind, like the ones I love, my mother, my father, my sisters, my brother and my friends too. As for my transformation, I owe it all to us.

 

The end of semester - Oh Joy!

Now that uni is over for the year, I clean up the mess that manifests at the end of each semester. The dining table has become a place to pile books and papers, as does the floor.
Now that the weight has been lifted off me, final papers submitted, this is all thats left...
A reminder of the stress of study.. I pack it all away.. I tidy, dust, wipe down, clean and then go out for a drink...to make merry... and i do!
This is the first time in a long while I have smiled and really laughed, from the belly, deep down...
Life is beautiful once more!!


Oh Joy!

I put my uni books away,
till next year
Oh joy!

The stress is put away,
as is the pressure
Oh Joy!

The expectations I create,
to do well and succeed
are replaced
with a smile.

Unisex toilets

I am excited to report that not only have I obtained new employment, but more importantly my new employer has unisex toilets!!!!  This is one step closer to the heaven that is- female toilets.

I am a self confessed toilet connoisseur and also admittedly have phobias about public toilets.. i.e. I am one of those people who will hold in my bowl movement all day, because I can only poo at home. Yes you heard me, I am more comfortable walking about all day in discomfort,  then i would be in using a toilet that wasn’t my own... and don’t even speak to me about using a urinal to pee... that I cannot do!!! I need the safety and security of the cubicle and once I am safely in the cubicle I find it hard to pee if others are about and can hear what is going on... recently this meant that I flushed a toilet, washed my hands and left the toilet without actually going!!!, all because someone was in the next cubicle and it was all too quiet. I was anxious at what they might have thought at the sound of me peeing loudly in a cubicle ???? No need to tell me its insane behaviour, believe me, i know.. after all I live with it. 

Back to toilets...... Men’s toilets are usually disgusting... at Uni the closer to the ground floor the toilets are, then I have found that the worse the toilets generally smell.. Mostly the word that springs to mind when I enter the male toilets is ‘RANK’.  I have no idea why this is the case.. in fact at uni I snapped this picture of a sign instructing Men how to use the toilets appropriately... I think they should have included something about not peeing on the seats or the on floor in the cubicle stalls.

In my endeavours to find a decent toilet at Uni, I have visited many other floors and recently thought I hit the jackpot..... I walked into the toilet, which not only smelt lovely, had a shower, no urinals, only cubicles... and had lovely painted coloured walls and mellow lighting!!! It was as if I had died and gone to heaven!!! Then as I walked into the cubicle,  the sanitary napkin waste bin brought my heavenly haze all undone... I had walked into the female toilets.. alas, If it is too good to be true,  then chances are it is... as was the case here.. unsurprising, as I then entered the correct and rank male toilets, I was greeted with urine splashed over the toilet seat.. YAY !!! 

Whilst I would love to be able to use the female toilets when ever and where ever I wanted to, obviously social norms don’t allow me this and relegate me to the rankness of male toilets...however, at my new work place  I have found a lovely compromise... The unisex toilet!!! And for the moment all is well in my world!!!  Now I just need to work on those other issues....

cold clinical institutions Vs Billy Bragg, music, class and humanity - (old post, originally from 15-04-2007)

I sit here and ponder the art of blogging. I should be writing up a lab report on something i have no interest in, yet it will contribute significantly towards my grade on a subject at uni, which in turn will go towards a  final grade, with which people will view my academic ability by, for years to come.

Its sad, so cold- so clinical. So inaccurate of actual ability and more reflective of a person's ability or inability to engage with a topic, or content or teaching method... where is the warmth and tenderness of the human heart?.. the human spirit? where is intuition and emotional understanding? We need the milkman of human kindness to leave an extra pint (lyric by Billy Bragg).

I need to clear my head and go for a walk. I grab my discman and the CD/LP 'Workers Playtime' by Billy Bragg. An LP that is tender, warm and humanely honest. It is a persons journey through relationships and life. Exploring aspects of himself from within and from the perspective of the other gender. I love this LP. I have listened to it so many times. A friend gave me a copy of it on cassette. I loved it so much I then went on to buy it on CD. I have raved about it on air , when i was presenting on community Radio, and often to my friends. I am still raving about it right now. Not only have i connected to it, but many others have, and on many levels. I have had people who know of my love and passion for music, come up to me to tell me about an amazing new LP they have discovered.. Billy Bragg's 'Workers Playtime'. I smile knowingly as we both reach an understanding without saying another word.

Music is a refuge in which we can explore life, dreams, hopes, feelings, in which we can cry, laugh, love, remember, reflect, live, dare and find solace and understanding in. It has the power to unite and connect us on many levels. 

How do we bridge the gap between cold clinical institutions and the warmth of human emotions... through music?.. do we simply utilise music as a tool or means to get us through? Or do we dare to go further and learn from the connection people make with music and somehow transfer that into the realm of the institution and especially that of education? Is it about remembering how to connect again to our emotions and spirit? How do we bring a sense of our humanity to the clinical realm and allow people to engage deeply and emotionally,  instead of only on a superficial mental level?  Can we? Will the powers that be allow us? Or does It threaten their expertise? 

The milkman of human kindness is a blue collar worker who understands emotional need. Who would slip you an extra pint if you needed it. Institutions are run by white collar people who often loose sight of the human condition in their endeavors to increase share price and profit margins, boost productivity while miminising FTE. In this time of globalisation and Post or High modernity ( depending on your belief), class seems to be forgotten, as does the fact,  that at the end of the day, we are all people who feel, bleed, breathe, live and need to feel loved, accepted and understood. Do we need to reacknowledge the ignored class distinctions and lines that still exist, before we can learn from each other? I don't know... I do know that either way,  if you feel poorly, it won't stop the milkman of human kindness from understanding, reaching out and leaving an extra pint ( lyric by Billy Bragg)

p.s. The song: "The milkman of human kindness" is not on the 'Workers Playtime' LP. I discovered it on the brillant compilation of Billy Bragg early ep's "Back to Basics"

I must thank my good friend and comrade Dr Classic for introducing me to Billy Bragg's music and talking me to see him on several occasions when he was here playing live.