Musing. Kununurra, CBS Records, cameras, being a gardener, and beating a boring life. It can be done.

I was thinking over the last weekend, you know, just musing on life the Universe and everything. No trigger for it – except maybe boredom – but I idly looked at a map of Australia I have on my wall, walked over to it, and started drawing lines from places I had lived to places I have visited.

At the end of the exercise, The Great Southern Land looked like a noughts and crosses challenge gone mad.

You can see the map below.

I've been everywhere man .... (by car)

Then I thought of elsewhere. Las Vegas (the pits), Chicago, Fiji (twice), Vanuatu, Norfolk Island, driven through Europe and the UK and as a kid ( 8 yo) Paris, Rome, Athens, Cairo, Karachi, Calcutta, Singapore…

But the locations are not that important, its the memories of the things you did there; I have stood on the bottom of Lake Argyle near Kununurra before it was filled with water from the dam they were building; I have caught barramundi in the Fitzroy river, tuna 20Kms offshore from Broome in a 15 foot tinny… deep breath.

 

Lake Argyle near Kununurra in the NW of WA. I've stood on the bottom.

All before I was 15!

Before I was 19 I had flown by helicopter to most of the Kimberley cattle stations – including the now famous El Questro before it became a resort – driven from Port Hedland to Perth – 50% on dirt roads  and nearly 2500Kms just to go to a nightclub on a Saturday night in my trusty HK Holden panelvan. Three or four times in fact, and back at work at 7:30 on the Monday morning. Oh and I had mixed bands at the Sheraton Hotel (and many others), taught myself sound engineering, played State level tennis and hockey and even started my own car airconditioning business before I was 21 with a contract to supply units to new Holden cars in WA.

Before I was 25 I had been a pastrycook, fitted tyres, a qualified bank accountant, purchasing officer in charge of a $20mill budget, auto chemical salesman, PR manager for CBS records, gardener, roadie, writer, videographer, journalist, storekeeper, ship’s providorer, cocktail barman, bar manager, hotel cook… deep breath

And then there were stints in my own businesses from age 35 in software importation and distribution, on air at Perth and Sydney radio stations, writing scripts for television, directing ads and even pilot TV shows.

Now this may look like I was crap at all these as they seemed to be short lived. But not so. I just, in most cases, got bored. Needed new challenges. But this is not the main thread of this post!

Looking back at these locations, experiences, journeys and the people I met, got engaged to and even married and had children with, it makes me realise how rich my life has been. I have been lucky enough to see places that can no longer been seen or experienced, met people of fame, standing and importance, indulge in passions such as game fishing, motor racing, rallying, beaten phobias and many more things that have added to the tapestry of my life.

And after musing about all these things, I have come to realise how and why I did them.

Because I could. Nothing could stop me. Or if it tried, find a way around it. And I am all the richer for it. If I had just sat back from – oh age 13 I think – and accepted I had no control and the world controlled me, it would be a very boring ride to date.

Just one rule. Try your damndest not to hurt anyone on the way through. Always be able to come back to them – no matter how far in the future – and be able to sit down and have a chat and a beer or a coffee.

It doesn’t always work. But you can try. Why don’t you?

I think I might turn this blog (future posts) a little sideways and start documenting those things I have done and experienced. I hope they’ll be interesting (and read).

Woggles are worth more than a credit card IMO

My last entry spoke of my distaste of the multitude of passwords and PIN numbers we all have to endure to get access to everything from our bank accounts to websites, eBay, email, blog posts etc etc. Even  my Blackberry wants one. I own you dammit! You are subservient to me – not the other way around.

If the Monaro asks for one before it starts after its next service, that’s it. I am buying a bicycle. Hang on… David didn’t quite think that through…. that means physical things … nope. Bad Idea.

Today though, I found a new hate. The Credit Card Company Phone Call.

(Ring ring) – on  the mobile not my landline. Cunning that as the ID system on the Blackberry says unknown caller. Could be a potential advertiser in AusCam (www.auscamonline.com – see the sneaky way got that in? Clever huh!)

“Hello, is that David Hewg?”

They ALWAYS ask that, no matter the call centre in Melbourne, Madras, Mumbai or Reykjavik. And I always answer “Hague… H-A-G-U-E. Yes, that’d be me”

Next is the spiel about this being a banking matter and they need to identify ME. At this point I would love to simply hang up, but having worked in the banking system for a period of time, I know this means that you get badged immediately as “Difficult customer. Never give credit ever again. Or their family. Immediate friends too. Hell the entire suburb and anhyone he has met in the last oh, 26 years.  Or courtesy. Remove any children and sell into slavery at first opportunity. And deny everything” They have a rubber stamp for all that. True!

So I go into auto mode, knowing what the questions are going to be and beat them to the punch. This Annoys Them. It’s not in the script.

Now I have no idea why there is a call from The Bank. I am not overdrawn. My credit cards are up to date. I am not shagging the Manager’s wife or daughter. The arson attack on the local ATM wasn’t me. So what?

“Mr Hag-U-ee, your last payment was $1 short of the minimum. As such unless you can pay this within the next 12 seconds, we unfortunately have to cover our substantial administration costs and charge you a $35 late fee, $30 over limit fee and $25 for having to call you as a service fee. Oh and your card is suspended until we receive it. And of course we have to let every other credit provider in the known Universe know that you are a useless bastard, have no idea that us banks are bleeding to death because of the likes of you and you will now probably starve as we have cut off any line of credit you may have for the next 12 years. Oh and don’t call the kiddies for a hug after this call. They are already down the mines. Give us back the dollar (plus interest at 1242% per minute) and you’ll see them when they have paid off their wages of 45c per hour + interest. About 8 years should do it.) Ooh… that’s 13 seconds. Sorreeee!

What chance do we have. I know. I’ll give ’em a credit card number from another provider to pay the $1 plus $2.1 million interest. That’ll fix them. They’ll have to pay the fees to get my miserable dollar _ $2.1 million interest. So it’ll cost THEM more than a dollar. Which … they’ll … add… to … my … bill. (+interest compound of $3.7 million)

Oh crap. A cheque? Nope. Postage and stamp duty.

A dollar coin? Not acceptable.

You can’t win can you?

Bastards. I think I’ll start paying in honky nuts * 10 to the $1 for woggles.

 

*See previous posts…

The demon of online logins and passwords. “They” are out to get you!

As I am sure many readers do, I have a number of credit cards, rewards cards, online accounts and so on. They, (I must find out one day who this mysterious “they” as referred to by ACA and TT  are,  as in “that they are calling it something gate“)  shrillry tell us to not write down login details and passwords, don’t keep them on-line, don’t store them on your hard disk and so on.

I can tell you, after much thought, this is a carefully conceived plot.

When was the last time you paid your minimum balance (and admit it, we all mostly do only pay that) at the bank, credit union or wherever? No. You pay online right?

But! How many times have you gone to pay, and realised that that carefully conceived login and password combination is …. well so clever it is now forgotten. Admit it! It happens. There must be billions of Hotmail, Yahoo, Google etc accounts that are dormant because that oh so carefully thought out combo of login/password is so bloody clever we cannot remember it. And the clue system they use? Favourite colour? Dog’s name? First car? Meh!

Yeah right.

My favourite is Citibank. Miss it three times and that’s that. And then ringing Bondi in Madras is a nightmare. So a trip to the local branch is in order. Oh, but hello, in Perth at least, that is a minimal choice needing a 150KM round trip! So you don’t until it is absolutelyu necessary. And that is usually when you have the NEXT bill saying you are behind and they have slugged you a billion dollars and 22c in penalty fees. See? That is what “they” want to happen.  More moolah for “them” in late fees etc. Pays for the next party, party on Friday night at the pub. And that pub is in Vanuatu. Or Paris.

Let’s look at a solution here. Budweiser the faithful and very intelligent hound (he has a column in my magazine at www.auscamonline.com and everything, as well as being chief adviser on food, places to walk each day and holiday locations)  gets away on  his name and one number that the Mandurah City Council allocate. One number. That’s it. And he has no problem and lives like a king. Well a King Dog anyway.

So why can’t we as humans get by on one unique number? Hell, WE are the intelligent ones apparently? But no, every single organisation wants to allocate us with a different number and password combination. Why can’t we choose our own? Much smarter if you ask me.

I am sure the security glitterati types will come up with a mind numbingly answer as to why this is dangerous; it will cause moons to collide, tectonic plates to shift faster than Jason Button and the coral reefs to start begging for Harpic diets. But really.

Doesn’t it make sense? One person. One number. One password.

Except for Bank Managers obviously. And credit managers. Stockbrokers? Yep. Oh and accountants and lawyers. What joy seeing them cringe at that flash restaurant when they have a senior moment at the EFT machine and then have to wash dishes. In fact, I reckon theirs should be scrambled randomly every 10 minutes to keep them on their toes. And charge them $100 every time they need to check it. And another $250 when they get it wrong. The proceeds could go to oh, worthy charities. Dogs’s homes. War veterans. Forgotten Vietnam vets. Making it better for the boys in Afghanistan. Widows. You get the drift.

Bitter? Me? Nah…. real ale is more my go…. or a nice Pilsener from my home brewing vats. But that’s another story altogether!

Barking mad Macs, space shuttle,Canon, coffee and honky nuts. Now with added Pagemaker.

I was thinking t’other day. No really! This Mac versus Windows thing is getting really silly.

I have never been a Mac person – although I do own an iTouch as it was a Chrissy present. I wondered why? I am reasonably agnostic when it comes to other products that have followers of blind faith. Cameras say (Nikon, Canon, Pentax) or cars (Holden, Ford spring to mind). So why not computers?

In an odd sort of way, it is because of the Mac  that I do what I do. In a different life, I had a business partner and we specialised in software distribution. He was a Mac person, I was DOS (back then) and all was well with the world. Then Windows 2.03 came out. I was determined to show that anything his piddly little Mac Plus could do, I could do on my Toshiba laptop. (See, laptop MacBoy. What’s that?Apple don’t have one yet?)

The catalyst was Pagemaker. Anything he could do I could do better ‘coz I had a hard disk and he didn’t. But then it all went weird.

An Australian company launched a alarm clock thing for the Mac. It’s claim to fame was that the space  shuttle astronauts (apparently) used it. From that moment, my business partner set alarms for bloody everything. And every time one went off, if he wasn’t sitting at his desk, he’d call out “Yes Mac, what is it?”

It was at that point I noticed that all Mac users were very similar. It wasn’t a machine anymore, they thought – nay believed – a Mac had some sort of personality. That to me is like saying if you are a Breville Kitchen Wiz person as against say, a Sunbeam Mixmaster, it’s because the Mixmaster doesn’t have say, a sense of humour while the Wiz does. You can tell it a joke and no matter what, it will laugh along with you, making you feel all warm and fuzzy and Tommy Cooperish.

Or the Ford likes to argue whereas the Commodore does as it’s told. That’s sensible that is.

I mean, I have even read reviews saying the the Mac is “soft and cuddly”! A Labrador pup is soft and cuddly; a computer is full of silicon glass and metal for God’s sake. Try putting 240v into a Labrador puppy and see what happens. No better not.

And why is it always referred to as “My Mac”? Windows users don’t say “My HP 2133 or UBeaut Desktop MkIII / 12D-j8”. Maybe Sony Viao users do come to think of it.

Nope. It’s not the machine that is at fault. Or the brand name. Or what it does. It therefore stands to reason that it must be the people. Just as those that own Datsuns are barking mad, so I have to the conclusion are Mac owners. Mainly.

Mind you, some of my best friends are Mac owners.

Time for coffee. Not Nescafe – don’t be silly. Moccona. Nescafe is like powdered honky nuts*

(Hands up who knows what a honky nut is)