tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32004808401864456612024-02-18T18:13:38.817-08:00trouserbonanzatrouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-71442532572700336132015-03-05T22:25:00.000-08:002015-03-05T22:26:22.276-08:00Mum, why is it OK for us to kill cows and sheep but not to kill whales?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">I read this on a poster in town and it got me thinking, how would I answer this if one of my own children asked this?<br />Well, first of all I’d remind them that I’m their dad, but I certainly wouldn’t be offended. [if anything, “Mum” should].<br />Anyway… the interesting thing about the question is the “OK” part, and how that all fits with Nature.<br />We all love Nature, right? And we wouldn’t dream of questioning Her methods. [Yes, yes – I know nature doesn’t have a gender any more than the wind does]<br />So let’s look at Nature; who’s killing who and why.<br />If you divide up the creatures that eat stuff, there’s basically 3 kinds of ‘vore’. You’ve got your Herbivore, Carnivore and Omnivore [including us!].<br />Herbivores chow down on poor defenceless plants all day long. Where are their Greenpeace zealots, hurling themselves in the path of those relentless molars?<br />It’s fine. Nature has a plan. The herbs in question produce masses of extraneous biomass in the complete realisation that a vast percentage will be gobbled up by the next step up the food chain. And, besides, plants don’t feel anything so there’s guilt-free dining all ‘round.<br />It’s even a bonus to a lot of them. Look how many seeds get dispersed via herbivore poop. <br />RIghto, carnivore time. Now events take on a whole different tenor.<br />Every creature, all ‘vores’ alike, run the risk of being dinner to a carnivore. From field mice to you and me.<br />And in Nature’s hands, do you know how those dinners play out? Every single object of every carnivore’s meal – with the exception of those dead already [cheers, scavengers] – died and was devoured by horrifically brutal and ruthless means without the slightest consideration for the pain and trauma experienced.<br />Nature, eh? What’s she like? She has no feelings about it, actually. But, just as she did with the plants, she has a plan for the walking meat. <br />Many, many more offspring are produced under Nature’s governance than is ever likely to survive. The more chance you have of being eaten, the more of you there are born.<br />She’s got it all worked out. There’s this many meat-oriented appetites out there, so I’m going to need this many edible beasties out there to be eaten. The ferocious pain each of them feel at the receiving end of each gruesome encounter is not a factor in Her calculations.<br />So, to get to ‘us’. [“why is it OK for us…”] What we’re talking about is a controlled system.<br />We just happen to be the ones who have a high sense of the control involved and have engineered it our advantage.<br />Just like Nature, we’ve assessed volumes of appetites and managed populations of edible living things accordingly. We gave it a name. Farming.<br />We produce artificially exaggerated numbers of plants. And we produce artificially exaggerated numbers of animals. All to eat. Because we are biologically omnivores. <br />Yes, we can survive just on plant matter but I think that’s denying our essential make-up.<br />[Ever see a David Attenborough where the bear is having an existential crisis about eating the bunny it just caught and dismembered?]<br />We are probably unique in the animal world regarding the philosophical enquiry we put into the ‘nature’ of killing our dinner. Why else would we, for the large part, go to such trouble to contrive ‘humane’ ways of ending the lives of our next meals? Show me one other creature who gives a flying darn for the howls of terror and agony coming from the creature in their jaws/talons/coils?<br />Yes, we artificially inflate numbers of edible animals where we are able to manage it – and can do so with a reasonably justifiable imperative.<br />What we cannot do for the moment is manage numbers of whales in any direction but down. <br />And that’s probably the big reason why it’s not OK.<br />The issue is confused further with the awareness of their intelligence. Though that doesn’t seem to stop us eating pigs, does it? But nor we get all activist when we see killer whales do a number on another Minke.<br />If we could successfully farm whales in viable numbers – I wonder what we’d do? Would it be OK then?<br />But that’s not the question is it? <br /><br /><br />Footnote: Since writing I came across <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/comment/no-sacred-cows-let-me-eat-whale-for-dinner-20130712-2pv9e.html">this well-reasoned and informative article in the SMH</a> on similar themes </span></div>
trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-38431793435501513792010-08-26T01:46:00.000-07:002010-08-26T02:27:15.921-07:00Youth resurrection central<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHdOhjn2noyQMdTJJ5q_8F9oojjPokl7N53YVqb6TRFLz2M9zI4anPloL9aadffvPI76zoeezLH5J5u8My8_SLQ00Wnu22sAe033zUJNZFzJl826mCYYKVz7e9UN6JkEy9T46kH5QdaM/s1600/Lawsons.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHdOhjn2noyQMdTJJ5q_8F9oojjPokl7N53YVqb6TRFLz2M9zI4anPloL9aadffvPI76zoeezLH5J5u8My8_SLQ00Wnu22sAe033zUJNZFzJl826mCYYKVz7e9UN6JkEy9T46kH5QdaM/s320/Lawsons.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509646846221974562" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I wouldn't call it a haunt exactly, but one of the places I pop my head into of an occasional lunch-break is the second-hand music store, Lawsons. (On Pitt St behind World Square, snuggled in comfortably between porn & liquor outlets - highly likely in that neighbourhood)</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The clientele is pretty well exclusively 50-something guys - thickening waistlines, thinning hair - trying to look nonchalant as they click at impressive speed with practiced fingers through hundreds of CD's in minutes. They can assess in microseconds whether that row of 70's psychobilly has that lost treasure which has been their quest - their El Dorado - that will send the rush of recognition through their synapses, resurrecting their youth if only for a fleeting breath.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I mostly like to go to the back where they store the vinyl, and indulge in the 12" artwork. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Of course, the demographic means that, I have to admit, I fit right in. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Which makes this picture so remarkable - never seen a woman in there ever - and when one appears, it's the chick from Ghostworld! Maybe it all makes sense.</span></div><div> </div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-34088375261774006362010-07-19T05:54:00.000-07:002010-07-19T17:51:54.766-07:00Huh? Is this a cycleway?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Bonanzacam is back - blasting the big issues direct to your eyeballs!</span><div><br /></div><div>I guess we must applaud Clover in her laudable mission to make Sydney cycle-friendly ("Friendly" is going to be a big paradigm shift for the town's non-biking populace...)</div><div>Anyway - there is visible evidence of noble intent scattered sporadically about the CBD & immediate environs in the form of dedicated cycleway projects</div><div>(The <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/politics/fraught-obstacle-course-on-moores-200km-vision-of-city-bike-paths-20100630-zmv0.html">SMH's Miranda Divine</a> recently had a pointed whinge about Ms Moore's shortcomings on these and it's true that the pace of progress has been a bit frustrating (and haphazard))</div><div>But there is another side to these advancements and that is: how my old nemeses, the pedestrians, integrate these changes into their lives</div><div>I'm just going to highlight one location</div><div>For the better part of a year, a short stretch of Ultimo back road running from behind the casino to the Pyrmont Bridge pub has had new cycleway work done</div><div>It was sort of finished a week or two ago* and the many cyclists using that route took to the new path in numbers - unfortunately... so did pedestrians!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now... to anyone observing the location - this is utterly baffling</div><div>The footpath (which has always been there) running immediately adjacent to the new cycleway is considerably WIDER than the cycle lane yet for reasons that escape your humble author, walkers have taken to using the ABSOLUTELY UNMISTAKABLY CLEARLY MARKED cycle only lane</div><div>As I say - Baffling (On top of that, the pedestrians you are politely swearing at to get out of the way, look totally mystified - this is a cycleway? Who'da thought?)</div><div>So - after a few days of weaving and frantic bell ringing I decided the people had to see for themselves</div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwS7iB7eJ0fje6y56lPNCdh2u4J5BrBYSKcyzd2AaAGS56S8_BzTmm0usjlYDqSOo7O64mPMrx_9gg8BDZNvg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div><div>This isn't even a bad day - but you get the idea<br /></div><div>(to make it extra mysterious - this practise persisted even on rainy days - even though the 'immediately adjacent' and 'considerably WIDER' footpath was protected by an awning...)</div><div><br /></div><div>Sigh - will feet and wheels ever get along?</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">*Closed off again - maybe they're painting bigger 'cycle only' signs?</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-89069527945201621652010-07-04T18:41:00.000-07:002010-07-04T18:50:36.925-07:00A Kute kitty kat<a href="http://www.glitter-graphics.com"><img src="http://dl10.glitter-graphics.net/pub/79/79730l4d8pj2fyu.gif" width="100" height="75" border="0" /></a>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-90568021894330964342010-05-19T01:05:00.000-07:002010-05-20T20:52:35.924-07:00Rail Trail Diary - Day 1 (The Real One)<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So, it was time to turn talk into pedal pushing - I've no doubt we all sized each other up and came to the conclusion that none us were carrying any extra ballast.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our genetics had been (predictably) fortuitous - but what about the fitness? Had we maintained the regime of the committed cyclist?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Oh, I haven't done any special training", sayeth George, but eyeing those chiselled calves, one could tell he was no stranger to the saddle.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And Dave?... Well, he was a six-pack on legs. (Guinness, probably...) After all, his favoured at-home wheels were the super skinny kind, and he wore lycra without shame.</span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMVS4eI7XZZAxg9CLAuGTPc0nHr_3-HKdfEIpIe5VnTpIuXEbwBSfbBTdAsByRlUXMlxJXhbisJMDjxSmxl9s42Uuirzdjs1Xriu6Q1lpRx_-aXtnypF7P8vvfAbxxXQ7noYK9fgjhX0/s1600/Kitting+up+bikes.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMVS4eI7XZZAxg9CLAuGTPc0nHr_3-HKdfEIpIe5VnTpIuXEbwBSfbBTdAsByRlUXMlxJXhbisJMDjxSmxl9s42Uuirzdjs1Xriu6Q1lpRx_-aXtnypF7P8vvfAbxxXQ7noYK9fgjhX0/s320/Kitting+up+bikes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472893225347812258" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Itinerary: Sunday, 29 November </span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Pick up Bikes (as-new Giant Sedonas) at </span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Trail Journeys in Clyde</span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Set off to Lauder</span></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We kitted up the very capable looking vehicles with what was necessary for the day ahead (Trail Journeys carted our bulky gear to pre-arranged stop-overs - very civilised). "What was necessary" entailing, essentially, snacks, jackets and cameras - we were going to see a lot of them.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloL1ib6NzgUh42vmxr9wi-0Qg7h1EqEDHv69mQTdLY0RykS6iMInX8F95aZHsc4wVJFgsOfTbj82Tm5wSIWXJ1D8lpdm0I-th37iLTHlMicoX7gbz7YaA6GsrC5TIyXLlba7BIQlHQW8/s1600/Track+to+Alexandra.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgloL1ib6NzgUh42vmxr9wi-0Qg7h1EqEDHv69mQTdLY0RykS6iMInX8F95aZHsc4wVJFgsOfTbj82Tm5wSIWXJ1D8lpdm0I-th37iLTHlMicoX7gbz7YaA6GsrC5TIyXLlba7BIQlHQW8/s320/Track+to+Alexandra.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472893236812198066" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The first stretch was to take us to Alexandra, 10km or so away. We could either go the strictly 'rail' route - fairly straight and uninteresting we'd been told - or we could cross the Clyde River and follow a more adventurous, undulating path, weaving around the trees along the banks. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMVS4eI7XZZAxg9CLAuGTPc0nHr_3-HKdfEIpIe5VnTpIuXEbwBSfbBTdAsByRlUXMlxJXhbisJMDjxSmxl9s42Uuirzdjs1Xriu6Q1lpRx_-aXtnypF7P8vvfAbxxXQ7noYK9fgjhX0/s1600/Kitting+up+bikes.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We did more weaving than anticipated as there had been a big blow go through a day or so previously and there were sizable limbs scattered the length to test our alertness. A rollicking start to the ride - and I guess wasn't too surprised to see that none us were going soft - there was going to be a competitive edge to this adventure - cool!</span></span></span></span></a></div><div><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-AU;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxq6w2Krtkm77O5reg0_w5C2FzYS45eV4nv_Cz1_H4K8oToRGR0HXpVPK7K1QAeDxOGi-dO6gIPfxFUSPoY6HGmnszA9787iUO-CpO_fc5Pcwq1QY00w3nCtnzV8zQKdu1P0_z7QrHUaY/s1600/Track+start.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxq6w2Krtkm77O5reg0_w5C2FzYS45eV4nv_Cz1_H4K8oToRGR0HXpVPK7K1QAeDxOGi-dO6gIPfxFUSPoY6HGmnszA9787iUO-CpO_fc5Pcwq1QY00w3nCtnzV8zQKdu1P0_z7QrHUaY/s320/Track+start.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472893244641628898" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx1VXvQ-gAcWAOP5ezFUxm0IS2HN6HzY-6ed2hX6nxzF5cUvUKHzBgtlegAlEoD6mm-Sl879CS11cv8Mp4WLA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMVS4eI7XZZAxg9CLAuGTPc0nHr_3-HKdfEIpIe5VnTpIuXEbwBSfbBTdAsByRlUXMlxJXhbisJMDjxSmxl9s42Uuirzdjs1Xriu6Q1lpRx_-aXtnypF7P8vvfAbxxXQ7noYK9fgjhX0/s1600/Kitting+up+bikes.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After a barely earned but most enjoyable coffee at an old converted public building (PO?) we found ourselves at last on we could actually call the Rail Trail. We got our first inkling of the terrain we'd be tackling - pretty cushy it would seem. Seeing as the route was originally designed to be as easy as possible for steam trains, the trail generally didn't go over hills but through them.</span></span></span></a></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgzhk0RK0V7Hj6abw7XGqRylZQbRS41mLX1fQDh3JjiAb40ctYLJ7xCudsyqc8s9J9AT-NiQ5AtIvekFbrvbKLhIciBeubNxMHfg9ViPCXFG3LdIYY6yFfMotnzq7o_0S51TBQb2CA0g/s1600/Bridge+Day+1.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBgzhk0RK0V7Hj6abw7XGqRylZQbRS41mLX1fQDh3JjiAb40ctYLJ7xCudsyqc8s9J9AT-NiQ5AtIvekFbrvbKLhIciBeubNxMHfg9ViPCXFG3LdIYY6yFfMotnzq7o_0S51TBQb2CA0g/s320/Bridge+Day+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473266193488954498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyTDqwsIfQqWi5yPbi0Hgp406XLJ8a0Ed9hG6HzC_g3o8XI_WzbbpjcRRo6OorKWsci33jAJiYc6gVTlfo2EQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4vFBeoN_ipHvtBImPP3YFqBXU3hLfPs1QkRWamKe9hVjtJk3Pi6Ge7pOKPOlIcqOwyR7scYHV_GL68UYu8UbKyN8MTitzMxQmFQUBvEcsyAi2On8u0Zgx1SsTtLpZBIO5qlxaM2KZm0/s1600/Scenery+Day+1.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq4vFBeoN_ipHvtBImPP3YFqBXU3hLfPs1QkRWamKe9hVjtJk3Pi6Ge7pOKPOlIcqOwyR7scYHV_GL68UYu8UbKyN8MTitzMxQmFQUBvEcsyAi2On8u0Zgx1SsTtLpZBIO5qlxaM2KZm0/s320/Scenery+Day+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473265912173097730" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfPSBmvErDXK56hS-F2YQ1HSAqvZmxWY7lEH9qBvAPSsZrw91B0ZhoYCZweR6lAQ-z0NV32d6UIbOfog4W4fyn1xpuVDEiY5Gj5_TJ606qRf1yGGSbQNB9o4SewJwrSUj2nYIkHjNtDQY/s1600/Chatto+Creek+Pub.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfPSBmvErDXK56hS-F2YQ1HSAqvZmxWY7lEH9qBvAPSsZrw91B0ZhoYCZweR6lAQ-z0NV32d6UIbOfog4W4fyn1xpuVDEiY5Gj5_TJ606qRf1yGGSbQNB9o4SewJwrSUj2nYIkHjNtDQY/s320/Chatto+Creek+Pub.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472893247156675282" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">An easy or hour or so ensued, humming 'round gentle curves and up gentler inclines watching the scenery change surprisingly spectacularly, until we hit a traditional watering hole - The Chatto Creek Pub. A couple of brethren had already hitched up, including a family with a little kiddy-trailer. Cruising down the traffic-worn track, high up, with fork suspension is one thing... but either side, where the unsprung trailer wheels travelled, was pretty rough - and you'd have Dad's bum for a view for 4 days!</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And look at that weather - spoilt, what?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguojwLMCtmh2Q01UoVZDCuJ53GS5dCkYh2Xo6KFq-hC57USuYUOIsy8ZUKdmP6vpYTwMCPfzmZOvcgnJXghTDYaQj9M2HD53MP_uvfXhEPhTrxTx0rU67eeQQLc6J0QfE_H0V1X_c4MDA/s1600/Chatto+Creek+Lunch.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguojwLMCtmh2Q01UoVZDCuJ53GS5dCkYh2Xo6KFq-hC57USuYUOIsy8ZUKdmP6vpYTwMCPfzmZOvcgnJXghTDYaQj9M2HD53MP_uvfXhEPhTrxTx0rU67eeQQLc6J0QfE_H0V1X_c4MDA/s320/Chatto+Creek+Lunch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472893252151286626" style="text-align: left; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, we were greeted with the lashings of charm and hospitality we were already getting accustomed to, snarfing down about the best toasted sandwich I can remember - superlative.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TBzouK8IdGTdoBDvWV7yIC0W7dZvTXbVLZSW-iUjXmUSPKJSUhBifq00RTqq0_nE0lSk4ECqNtqldLkJOLFZ-W6wqDdvCmHNzThszPhVg3cDXk2MeMhXPIJFt_utAfzfKwRI8Uv9QfE/s1600/Chatto+Creek+Post+Office.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TBzouK8IdGTdoBDvWV7yIC0W7dZvTXbVLZSW-iUjXmUSPKJSUhBifq00RTqq0_nE0lSk4ECqNtqldLkJOLFZ-W6wqDdvCmHNzThszPhVg3cDXk2MeMhXPIJFt_utAfzfKwRI8Uv9QfE/s320/Chatto+Creek+Post+Office.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473254036141948882" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Historical note - Chatto Creek is home to NZ's smallest (and almost certainly most miserable) Post Office - still set up just as dear old Millie Allsop (or whoever it was) serviced it all those years. Isn't that interesting?</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tiOdx9L80p_-xjRWGead0l3w0zqGP0yWx6UB1yXkDQ0H5GmgpM477il9mcYSADHj22H7uoMmq0qYif-RlYrfuQhVgk8eWJVi-3qfiFTCuO5JFIFuoQSMbSd4UxDyGGgPlA69TKQwnuY/s1600/Lauder+metropolis.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6tiOdx9L80p_-xjRWGead0l3w0zqGP0yWx6UB1yXkDQ0H5GmgpM477il9mcYSADHj22H7uoMmq0qYif-RlYrfuQhVgk8eWJVi-3qfiFTCuO5JFIFuoQSMbSd4UxDyGGgPlA69TKQwnuY/s320/Lauder+metropolis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473265922157238066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Setting off satisfyingly fed & watered, we ambled (not so competitively after all) on until we reached the bustling metropolis of Lauder ("Lorder") - our first stopover. We had booked into a converted (they love converting in these parts) old schoolhouse - dead charming. Eeh - I 'ad a trike just like this when I were a lad...</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6RMS9PFMaz9y6_V7errFuXi2ncH_aAU1_mmOQzZznGVQBcUSkIKKhydv9eKVu9mVnWNASFt8b5dFYgjAmPVQSKCYGLYAUy_-ppS9joiu-8YBtHCI-dVynjttSCwVmzfmFXFEZL2OHzDQ/s1600/Bruce+trike.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6RMS9PFMaz9y6_V7errFuXi2ncH_aAU1_mmOQzZznGVQBcUSkIKKhydv9eKVu9mVnWNASFt8b5dFYgjAmPVQSKCYGLYAUy_-ppS9joiu-8YBtHCI-dVynjttSCwVmzfmFXFEZL2OHzDQ/s320/Bruce+trike.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473265930647619538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">How does the urbane-sophisticate-about-town occupy oneself in Lauder? Why a rubber or two of Boule at Ye Inne, of course. I think the publican said we were the first to try out the new... er... rink. He hadn't been sure how they were usually constructed and had gone for a bed of inches deep gravel. We ended up playing on the grass.<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiDLJgKoMnzE5pKnbPs6LvoMHp38LLOPaYS1xS7ZJ9i1iZhRy3ghPwYk5FtnRhygfhlOmumaykQZOqhgq2av-7X-qtG9TLCIL19JSthegy3KkFfxF5Sy2IuJd_DJHGIFPKw70TQUb_gI/s1600/Lauder+boule.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiDLJgKoMnzE5pKnbPs6LvoMHp38LLOPaYS1xS7ZJ9i1iZhRy3ghPwYk5FtnRhygfhlOmumaykQZOqhgq2av-7X-qtG9TLCIL19JSthegy3KkFfxF5Sy2IuJd_DJHGIFPKw70TQUb_gI/s320/Lauder+boule.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473265927539496962" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After settling on the pub as our dinner venue (yes - the only actual option) we enjoyed a hearty meal before settling in with Day 2 to greet us in the coming morn.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">PS: I had intended to include some gripping clips of the Trail so far, but Blogger won't let me bloody upload 'em.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;">PPS: As you can see, I got a couple up!</span></div></div></div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-86056798835781141432010-05-18T22:59:00.000-07:002010-05-20T20:40:40.707-07:00Rail Trail Diary - about bloody time<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Mission - 3 crusty old cronies who went their separate ways after surviving 5 years of Papanui High School in the 70's get together to mark their 50th birthdays (!) with a 4 day ride on the </span></span><a href="http://www.otagorailtrail.co.nz/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Otago Rail Trail</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />The protagonists: David, George & Your Author (whom we shall call 'Bruce' - for it is he)<br /><br />Truth is I'm pretty inexperienced at organising a mission like this, particularly an overseas one - but ultimately it was rewarding to have an itinerary fall into shape. Everyone I contacted, from bike hire to accommodation, could not have been more helpful.<br /><br />Itinerary: Friday, 27 November<br />David & Bruce fly out of Kingsford Smith<br />Flight EK 418<br />Depart 10:15 am<br />Arrive CHCH 3:15pm<br /><br /></span></span><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzeGuR1GCLHS-9cZtKkgpUB81ZBp57JJLYe8j5puDHFVfO0Bjb7HL8dZLGoP8Bfqol0RRBTqAcdHHqEQpCKR8TDed7DgBkY-usXVVrIqKooAW-9tSRIlU8m0qck7TReq5OHmgdELk2lok/s1600/Flying+over+Alps.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzeGuR1GCLHS-9cZtKkgpUB81ZBp57JJLYe8j5puDHFVfO0Bjb7HL8dZLGoP8Bfqol0RRBTqAcdHHqEQpCKR8TDed7DgBkY-usXVVrIqKooAW-9tSRIlU8m0qck7TReq5OHmgdELk2lok/s320/Flying+over+Alps.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472867856600742658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Snow-covered alps! And a long white cloud - one's dusty old NZ recognition neurons start to fire up...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-PDKubMUXqtFO4bXkqaqoaCQijDVCpVW28QPx8eag2UpeWKmTjeqRqEmvoWhpSTLhZkBzJjETwxSAU7cil-DyXE6IYlH7IRjMmms1Ao0pPoOC8v0Ryezeh5GLnUmyA8QLcJIWVQqwd4/s1600/Old+CHCH+Control+Tower.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-PDKubMUXqtFO4bXkqaqoaCQijDVCpVW28QPx8eag2UpeWKmTjeqRqEmvoWhpSTLhZkBzJjETwxSAU7cil-DyXE6IYlH7IRjMmms1Ao0pPoOC8v0Ryezeh5GLnUmyA8QLcJIWVQqwd4/s320/Old+CHCH+Control+Tower.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472869824583075810" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Have a good look at the old Control Tower ("Control Tower" - incidentally, being my first words - in English - apparently) - it's being superseded by something new that couldn't possibly be as stylish.</span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Itinerary: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Saturday, 28 November</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">David, George & Bruce drive to Clyde in Finchmobile</span></span></span></p></span></div><!--StartFragment--><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULspbA8FWgOWxRMUSDCIwRcA8OjGI9vzHoe_cHsJcL72t3X0NSIz06QHq58PJJ9lAhEtmt6tsq8U-b2opZeF7c1baflXJMKtEL_M7dKT9qrq42J8_khEFUtQWZQzq7uEeas_lYa913nw/s1600/The+Lads+Burkes+Pass.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULspbA8FWgOWxRMUSDCIwRcA8OjGI9vzHoe_cHsJcL72t3X0NSIz06QHq58PJJ9lAhEtmt6tsq8U-b2opZeF7c1baflXJMKtEL_M7dKT9qrq42J8_khEFUtQWZQzq7uEeas_lYa913nw/s320/The+Lads+Burkes+Pass.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472872241652329058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Starting the expedition proper, we load up the "Capsicum" (as I believe the green Corolla is nick-named), pick up George and head across the Canterbury Plains. After constant typically gloomy rain on the flat, we climbed up </span></span><a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=Burkes+pass+canterbury&sll=-45.85548,170.574104&sspn=0.011179,0.022252&g=Burkes+Dr,+Otago+9022,+New+Zealand&ie=UTF8&hq=&hnear=Burkes+Pass,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand&ll=-43.995284,170.638275&spn=0.36949,0.712051&t=h&z=11"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Burkes Pass</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and burst out into a brilliant sun-soaked vista.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 16px; "><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwk89IOF6wevkdQzzf541Tn1k46FJi42I_wPg8aOPnqnXcI6U_9i3_SjLq2JEGFMP3HniNJwAr5-CjJgUJJ3w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLyjNSsaSFMGAIvvT-EIv-nS1Bbu5QPSFZepARZ36QNU1sMpe3aeVxTPrrpfc1w2cthr3mnWfKIZ4kmHtjXaQCNV7oHk5LCoAhhpSES-0m743eJlObaqX6YK5Qp1j5zu0C6RmUIWnUQs/s1600/Lunch+at+Tekapo.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLyjNSsaSFMGAIvvT-EIv-nS1Bbu5QPSFZepARZ36QNU1sMpe3aeVxTPrrpfc1w2cthr3mnWfKIZ4kmHtjXaQCNV7oHk5LCoAhhpSES-0m743eJlObaqX6YK5Qp1j5zu0C6RmUIWnUQs/s320/Lunch+at+Tekapo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472872250182094194" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjULspbA8FWgOWxRMUSDCIwRcA8OjGI9vzHoe_cHsJcL72t3X0NSIz06QHq58PJJ9lAhEtmt6tsq8U-b2opZeF7c1baflXJMKtEL_M7dKT9qrq42J8_khEFUtQWZQzq7uEeas_lYa913nw/s1600/The+Lads+Burkes+Pass.jpg"></a>The glorious weather showed off Lake Tekapo at its most picture-skew as we stopped for a lunch of fish (sorry "fush") & kumera chups - yum!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A spectacular drive followed with the clear air giving us a grand view of (the now 20 metres or so shorter since the landslide) Mt Cook (or "Aorangi" to the types that call Ayers Rock "Uluru").</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjngVjxrxCHqEeWHs4gidwsP2jHaXuuQPXQmxvuuQtXZjgMKXCnWcMIbQSkgYl1FaNqusV2H15lphI2Xcm0nxa5YnAhcTSCKPvzCNbQYOrv5NRofr7ZAy3hl66YWsyfE6kiPTd62z5ss/s1600/Ye+Hartley+Arms.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjngVjxrxCHqEeWHs4gidwsP2jHaXuuQPXQmxvuuQtXZjgMKXCnWcMIbQSkgYl1FaNqusV2H15lphI2Xcm0nxa5YnAhcTSCKPvzCNbQYOrv5NRofr7ZAy3hl66YWsyfE6kiPTd62z5ss/s320/Ye+Hartley+Arms.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472872258798343250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We arrived at Clyde in the early arvo to find an unbelievably quaint and charming olde town situtated an unnervingly short distance downriver from a dirty big dam.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghagNAtdgDjAA2nrgi3ewDlf0TBzLiz5bPLaL53n-7AvmdLS7lGPa_0wbc-pDchVr8LY-KxTTs_8GLQWE2ND3i0R9iEpd0ATBEWokMcDa6vrEE1ThbNA3lfa6J9MoLXs0DcQtAyX3sqLU/s1600/Ye+Hartley+Arms+2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghagNAtdgDjAA2nrgi3ewDlf0TBzLiz5bPLaL53n-7AvmdLS7lGPa_0wbc-pDchVr8LY-KxTTs_8GLQWE2ND3i0R9iEpd0ATBEWokMcDa6vrEE1ThbNA3lfa6J9MoLXs0DcQtAyX3sqLU/s320/Ye+Hartley+Arms+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472872260295552450" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Our digs, Ye Hartley Arms, was the epitome of charm and a jolly pleasant end to the day was spent in the sun-dappled garden.</span></span></div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-986407297897446222010-02-01T22:51:00.000-08:002010-02-01T23:05:39.358-08:00Should I stay or should I go now?Gradually, more and more dedicated cycle lanes are cropping up in the city - thanks Clover.<br />But... of course, there had to be a 'but'... things aren't all smooth sailing yet.<br />Witness these lights on the corner of King & Kent... <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4FcYImAo25K2Vp2MgCOjHaGVBuCVBX2je1LDAyAoA2LLMNq5esCBsJNHm2ZmzgOVIhT5C_SDMLK1qOSXywDEWLPTzuGykeyWYltI90QneKZ2HTEy-QmQJCiWmlywBFfEutkNB6U6Qfo/s1600-h/King+%26+Kent.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4FcYImAo25K2Vp2MgCOjHaGVBuCVBX2je1LDAyAoA2LLMNq5esCBsJNHm2ZmzgOVIhT5C_SDMLK1qOSXywDEWLPTzuGykeyWYltI90QneKZ2HTEy-QmQJCiWmlywBFfEutkNB6U6Qfo/s320/King+%26+Kent.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433538232962326978" /></a><br /><br />I've gone up this cycle lane many times and never yet seen the green for cars coordinate with the green for bikes - officially, while automative traffic whizzes up the hill we're supposed to sit and wait - for no discernible reason.<br />Generally, most cyclists simply do what I do and let common sense dictate - but there's always that nagging feeling of "there's another cyclist flaunting the rules - again."<br />I wonder if pedestrians ever get that feeling?...trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-29142381943127348882010-01-18T23:32:00.000-08:002010-01-18T23:46:33.318-08:00Let's get Face to Face, Paul<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg09h9ENU_xaRxbXuJcO200fnnELLNaSRq5xGjGv8xh_dPZ6l_cUh2nDzOPQBAqHlpAcE1u9FHs_w0wlqufDyq3Zl3hbkbKoEaTRGEzt2wwCFXzxtrWMaKlqLsL7s9Z_fI3OG3sqKeMi0/s1600-h/FACE+13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg09h9ENU_xaRxbXuJcO200fnnELLNaSRq5xGjGv8xh_dPZ6l_cUh2nDzOPQBAqHlpAcE1u9FHs_w0wlqufDyq3Zl3hbkbKoEaTRGEzt2wwCFXzxtrWMaKlqLsL7s9Z_fI3OG3sqKeMi0/s320/FACE+13.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428354110217261874" /></a><br /><br />October 1989 - Vivienne Westwood, Jean Paul Gaultier, Thierry Mugler, Signal to Noise comic by Neil Gaiman & Dave McKean, The Gunners and more<br />Collect in person over lunch<br />Respond by any of usual channelstrouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-74876955597989566002009-12-13T23:04:00.000-08:002009-12-13T23:16:53.010-08:00Toyota Caramba!We all know NZ has different names for car models - notably Subaru (Sue-BAA-roo) Legacy for what we call Liberty...<br />But I'm always amazed and delighted by the myriad and marvelous 'grey import' names on the CHCH streets- here's a list from a couple of days casual note taking - in the order seen:<br /><br />Toyota Platz<br />Mazda Windom<br />Mitsubishi Legnum<br />Toyota Caldina (I since my first one here in Sydney)<br />Mazda Atenza<br />Toyota (&, later, Subaru) Carib<br />Miitsubishi Cedia<br />Toyota Spacio<br />Toyota Altezza<br />Mitsubishi Emeraude<br />Toyota Granvia<br />Toyota Curren<br />Nissan Cefiro<br />Toyota Trueno<br />Nissan Mistral<br />??? Sylphy<br />Toyota Estima<br />Toyota Logo<br />Toyota Corsa<br />Toyota Orthia<br />Toyota Ipsum (Hi Jeff!)<br />Nissan Wingroad<br />Nissan Presea<br />Toyota Emina<br />Toyota Lumiere<br />Toyota Efini<br />Nissan Avenir<br />Toyota Cynos<br />Toyota Elucio<br />Toyota Qualis<br />Nissan Excimo<br />Toyota Marino<br /><br />Well, it amused me anyway...<br />I know, I know - I go to NZ for a world-class bike trail ride and the first thing I blog about is silly car names - what can I say? I'm superficial...trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-57339147793719324752009-11-13T00:34:00.000-08:002009-11-13T00:45:31.212-08:00My point of view on pedestriansBonanzacam is back! This time with the dirt - I don't have to say much 'cos the camera does most of the talking.<br />Still a little shakey as I'm holding camera with one hand while steering with the other. (Also why I wasn't going terribly fast)<br />Points to note. In case you can't see at this size - ALL the traffic lights I'm going through are bright green!<br />Does that stop our wandering flocks of foot-travellers? Nuh uh!<br />Pedestrians - their own worst enemy.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy0fpkLDQlTw7WmCP4LfVsruI9YmhMgHjjKmA1uaO1AkHL25cyRUztCE64bhdLehf1nDNgWDDHf8ovCKVMApA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-77557973897084699992009-11-13T00:16:00.000-08:002009-11-13T00:28:21.233-08:00Vicarious GnarlynessExperiencing things for yourself is often the 'only way' but sometimes...<br />Well, sometimes I'm glad there are dedicated nutters out there who perform feats at outrageous risk to life and limb and then record their experience from their point of view.<br />It could be those hardy souls who dive under Arctic ice, paraglide cm from cliffs or these two mountain biker brothers, Dan and Gee Atherton, who go for a breath-taking plunge through back alleys of the Dona Marta slum in Brazil.<br />I get the self-same view they did from the warmth, comfort and safety of my computer/lounge chair.<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/56kJ99AvfoI&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/56kJ99AvfoI&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-46257032015794176252009-10-30T00:39:00.000-07:002011-03-01T18:33:58.963-08:00I did it tough<span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Every day as part of my job I read and relate the biographies of our, and other, seminar speakers. Almost without exception, they are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"I had to pull myself up by the bootstraps"</span></span> stories - and they ALL believe this is what makes them <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">so</span></span> different.</span> </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Ha.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span style="font-size:85%;">Here's a quick selection - starting with the King - Anthony Robbins... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">the longer the story, the better - ie: the more outrageous)</span></span></span></span></div><div><!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Anthony Robbins</span> was born in a leap year, February 29, 1960 and raised in a low-income suburb of Los Angeles before being kicked out of his house at the age of seventeen for being "too intense."</span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Distracted by his early success Tony soon lost his direction in life. Struggling to pay his bills, overweight and alone, he decided it was time for action, and made a personal commitment to change his life forever. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Yadda yadda - we know how that goes...)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Jamie McIntyre – 21</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">st</span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> Century Academy:</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >“Here I went from sleeping on a mate’s couch, $150,000 in personal debt, no job, no income, no assets, not even $20 left in my wallet, virtually bankrupt, to becoming a self-made millionaire in a little under four years, and creating an extraordinary quality of life for myself and others.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Dymphna Boholt – Author of Confessions of a Real Estate Millionaire<br /></span>In 1994, Dymphna found herself 'starting over' after a divorce left her with very little money, pregnant and a toddler to support on her own. Keen to move away from the constraints of being a solo mum who was working full time, she decided to try her hand at real estate investment.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Stephen Pierce – Unleash Your Marketing Genius etc: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(a doozy)</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >“Not too long ago, I was probably far worse than you are right now. It seemed as though I was voted by life to be the one least likely to succeed... at anything! Running the mean streets of Washington, D.C., I quickly exhausted the patience of every major institution that tried to help get me on the right track.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"Heck, even the high school I attended felt I was a lost cause, and decided it was in the best interest of the other students and staff if I just disappeared during my tenth grade year.</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"You would naturally think that a few swift kicks up the side of the head like that would have gotten my attention... But it wasn't until I eventually got shot in the leg, declared bankruptcy several times, and finally went homeless that I decided – enough was enough.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"I still carry the bullet in my leg to show for it. (The hospital turned me away because I had no health insurance!)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 9.0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"That was yesterday.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 9.0pt"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"Today, because of that decision... My family and I run a huge number of highly successful offline and online businesses that generate millions of dollars each and every year ... and that's not even mentioning the countless numbers of people we've taught how to emulate our success at our sold-out workshops across the USA and around the world.”</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" >Matt Morris - The Unemployed Millionaire</span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span style="font-size:85%;">At just eighteen years old, Matt Morris entered into his first entrepreneurial venture. At twenty, he dropped out of college to pursue business full-time. At twenty-one, he was homeless, $30,000 in debt, living out of his beat up Honda Civic and bathing in gas station bathrooms. It was then that he made a life-changing decision to re-invent himself and his career. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Yawn)</span></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"></span></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Bill Bartmann</span> is the ultimate underdog/survivor/achiever, overcoming personal circumstances and tragedy to rise to the top enterprise in America. Homeless at age 14, a member of a street gang and a high-school dropout - Bill took control of his life by taking the GED exam and putting himself through college and law school.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"></span></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Carly Crutchfield</span> started life a little differently and the result is most definitely not the norm. After leaving school at the age of 12 she got straight into the workforce, after many jobs (cleaner, waitress and receptionist amongst them) she started to get an itch that there must be more to living than the 9-5 routine. She found a book at her father’s house, read it cover to cover and was introduced to the world of property.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"></span></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" >Dr John Tickell </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">As a student, John Tickell worked hard to pay his own way through Medical School, driving delivery trucks and diving for golf balls in the river by the local public course and playing guitar and singing in Clubs.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" >Jay Kubassek - “CEO – CarbonCopyPro”: </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"I was broke, burned out, frustrated, and at the end of my rope. Do you know what a "dog run" is? That's what my life was. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"I was on a leash that let me leave the house at 7 every morning, go as far as work, and return home tired and exhausted. A life of "getting by". Making just enough to pay my bills to meet the basic needs of existence.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" >"I was working 50-60 hours a week and was close to burnout. My weekends were spent dreading Monday... And I was doing this all for a meager $50- $70k a year! That works out to around $21 bucks an hour." (Boo hoo)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:'trebuchet ms';" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> (But I've saved my favourite for last...)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-size:85%;" >Joseph McClendon III – one of several claiming to be "Tony Robbins’ Head Trainer":</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Just before his 19th birthday, Joseph McClendon III was homeless and hungry, possessing nothing but the clothes on his back and just enough gas money to ride his 1937 Harley Davidson motorcycle to see his mother in Ridgecrest, California.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">“I was close to suicidal on the way home from visiting her,” </span>recalls Joseph.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> “She asked me if I was doing okay, and I lied to her. The only thing that kept me from running head on into somebody with my motorcycle was the fact I thought that I would hurt them, but I considered it.”</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Thinking that things couldn’t get any worse, a retread from a truck in front of him blew out and flew into him, forcing Joseph to take a tumble into the desert. Scarred and in pain, he pushed his bike the remaining 10 miles back to his cardboard shack in Lancaster. Like a protagonist in a hard-luck movie moment, he was soon soaked in pouring rain.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Yelling and screaming to no one in particular, Joseph swore that everything was going to be different. The one true defining moment of his life occurred the next morning on his 19th birthday. He pushed the bike to a local garage and begged the mechanic to fix it in return for cleaning the shop. The mechanic said no, but Joseph was persistent.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Finally, the mechanic agreed to fix the bike, gave Joseph some clothes, and made what would be an unusual request even in that situation. The mechanic would not start working on the bike until Joseph read a book, that day, cover to cover. It was Napoleon Hill’s ‘Think and Grow Rich’.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"></span></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">So... inspired? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;">Almost makes you want to chuck it all in and live life on the skids for a while so you have a chance of making it in this world...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span style="font-size:85%;"> <strong>UPDATE: [They just keep coming...]</strong></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p><strong>Andy Harrington - "One of the leading authorities in the UK on the psychology of success"</strong></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p>"At Age 27 I Was Flat Broke, Lonely, And Heavily Addicted To Class 'A' DrugsI had no compelling future and my life was slowly going nowhere.But one day I had a MASSIVE wake-up call. I took a look at the no-hopers I'd been hanging out with and realised the horrifying truth...I had become one of them!"In that moment, something shifted inside of me. I got angry and furious that I'd sank to such a low. I vowed to immediately do something about it."The first thing I did was cut ALL contact with this peer group. I knew deep down I needed to get around successful people so I could find out what they were doing differently, and then do the same.It became a new addiction to replace the old disempowering one!I read every self-development book I could get his hands on to feed my mind with positivity. But funnily enough, it was just one simple statement that changed my life... 'If you want to be rich, copy a rich bloke' "</o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p><strong>Tom Hua - "Internet Marketing Pioneer"</strong></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p>Tom immigrated to Australia with only $300 Australia dollars. After sleeping on newspapers in a tiny apartment for months, he stumbled across Internet marketing and quickly grasped its secrets to become one of the first self-made Internet millionaires.</o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p><strong>John Lee - Wealth Dragons</strong></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:85%;"><o:p>John has not always had life easy. He came from very humble beginnings where he used to wash dishes 10 hours a day in his parents' Chinese takeaway in Manchester. It was only when he sold his car to fund his property education where his life took a turn.</o:p></span></span></p></div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-16185106397531525942009-10-29T00:56:00.000-07:002009-10-29T01:02:34.919-07:00Bridge to Nowhere 3<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKc55-W5bceK1h1l6wgdW_leZi4dtXGiuK3SEp7QFIBKlegH9Nl7HQQe9YmX-7zbc0_EM2tn9vNTFazXqOjqQtRczLL0OGGecl7A96TAmOsYimQD_nOwUgT8kzvYQNMHysV-Hb3EfLM4/s1600-h/Bridge+to+Nowhere+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKc55-W5bceK1h1l6wgdW_leZi4dtXGiuK3SEp7QFIBKlegH9Nl7HQQe9YmX-7zbc0_EM2tn9vNTFazXqOjqQtRczLL0OGGecl7A96TAmOsYimQD_nOwUgT8kzvYQNMHysV-Hb3EfLM4/s320/Bridge+to+Nowhere+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397928977504935010" /></a><br />To be fair - this is going nowhere at the moment because of all the work being done in the Centrepoint building. Still - it's a dirty big bridge, smack-dab in the middle of Sydney's primo shopping mall. <div>(And isn't the whole chaotic will-they-ever-fill-in-that-bloody-great-hole & stop-with-the-jackhammers-already Pitt mall experience at the moment, just - well - the pits?)</div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-65448877331851409322009-10-29T00:12:00.000-07:002009-10-29T20:22:49.955-07:00Show us your girly bits<div style="text-align: center;">Who isn't an admirer of the female form, eh? (I'm not talking about the commercial side of catering to obsessive admiration - the primary drive, it seems, behind every new medium we invent.) <br /></div><div>No, I refer to bona fide 'artistic' appreciation. What always struck me, though, about that expression in sculptureland - probably as long as there has been sculpture, too, I imagine - is the rampant reductionism of 'femininity'. </div><div>The fallback for female nude sculpture is so often to limit the anatomy depicted to the area between the neck down to the mid-thigh. </div><div>And numerous works on display now around the full circuit of the foyer in the Australia Square building conform to this approach. (Exhibited by <a href="http://sculptorssociety.com/PageDetail.aspx?CategoryID=11&PageId=86">the Sculptors Society</a>)</div><div>They are nice bits of women and all, but it just seems a bit of a samey shorthand cop-out after a while. </div><div>See what I mean...?</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6C6-QonYs9-pwm-dnIzQeJC8KoRHL2oZa3WLaduDTFWKVnT3dhPMGDoOhr9Rx87lLnzLj2wa1lgG7IXHGETq9cyQg4ubrxjuKev5w7vM1TSbL-Ym6ruiM2j_1ETDCIIepaBHbAEoNjg/s1600-h/vanStomFeyona-Shadows.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq6C6-QonYs9-pwm-dnIzQeJC8KoRHL2oZa3WLaduDTFWKVnT3dhPMGDoOhr9Rx87lLnzLj2wa1lgG7IXHGETq9cyQg4ubrxjuKev5w7vM1TSbL-Ym6ruiM2j_1ETDCIIepaBHbAEoNjg/s320/vanStomFeyona-Shadows.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397925962410150018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmpQNoa-2r1zosSORpuWr5YiPLKArD_5dn3tPqDmHQmhaSdY8XCHhvM7o8BLLzMEGjSEFVYFvufz_gWGpMAoZea491G3KIbOaS2qgM4ZJRIAbZaznAb3Ru3BBDF-AlTMMQYl21qYMbFSQ/s1600-h/vanStomFeyona-JadeGreen.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmpQNoa-2r1zosSORpuWr5YiPLKArD_5dn3tPqDmHQmhaSdY8XCHhvM7o8BLLzMEGjSEFVYFvufz_gWGpMAoZea491G3KIbOaS2qgM4ZJRIAbZaznAb3Ru3BBDF-AlTMMQYl21qYMbFSQ/s320/vanStomFeyona-JadeGreen.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397925960555770242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 202px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_Ovvo6fnKIRoj70FfmaqV2B7VpKFYpcEZ9H8VSdIntHe35hxYet263-HJTW4H80-omxeX2OffVs0sooB4xDWxT0MDtGsnvuueIsFAIdyTCeK4bGdlY80kF8wOLNZ8ke9xnEw0aBXSB4/s1600-h/Sculptors+Society+3.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_Ovvo6fnKIRoj70FfmaqV2B7VpKFYpcEZ9H8VSdIntHe35hxYet263-HJTW4H80-omxeX2OffVs0sooB4xDWxT0MDtGsnvuueIsFAIdyTCeK4bGdlY80kF8wOLNZ8ke9xnEw0aBXSB4/s320/Sculptors+Society+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397925955908812098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">This last one, rather cheekily, is titled "Playthings".</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5LyKuVqlNO3AHgB8JPoGq4KWxgvJR3NFZPe9ULsujyMJ4JdtOxiUdF48ab_Q_ReoDHBA4leyjANcf3eNTTz83aIYHIusGrykgOHoFJPnbDKTzXgdA4naZniEuUz1kR5KLjKZ25wdSCc/s320/Sculptors+Society+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398155867037496130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><div style="text-align: center; ">Incidentally - you should see what what they're asking for these things - THOUSANDS of dollars!</div><div> </div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHDLhxzCWPp4wyasBimft_G9NUDrZ72aFbIEZRcJiPEPAtleJA1U3SI6yCjD8j6Gl1pWyWrZHS3bhwIG6zg46Rv91rb58f53fDo6krl7yA0a-qKofiF880T44Sx0tqSQ7rYMVa43bBDo/s1600-h/Sculptors+Society+1.jpg"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglHDLhxzCWPp4wyasBimft_G9NUDrZ72aFbIEZRcJiPEPAtleJA1U3SI6yCjD8j6Gl1pWyWrZHS3bhwIG6zg46Rv91rb58f53fDo6krl7yA0a-qKofiF880T44Sx0tqSQ7rYMVa43bBDo/s1600-h/Sculptors+Society+1.jpg"></a></div><div> </div><div> </div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-48598539925027514992009-10-18T23:46:00.000-07:002009-10-18T23:58:40.809-07:00Bonanzacam on Ice!<div>At Canterbury Ice Rink on Saturday with B1 - fun!</div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxOJz7Rj7_hEApG91J5aEWMzHwLncOjaK0j6RrKB02505olqVxBzpoToVS-ABUktTCnwdbhZVygvD4CgYIrew' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-57086226592698319752009-10-18T18:45:00.000-07:002009-10-18T23:25:05.970-07:00Bonanzacam BetaA test run of handlebar-mounted Bonanzacam - as you can see - a few stability issues to iron out before turning the lens on THE ISSUES<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzi8iNzqpP3AHKco0RHlrRAPwkjI9E4fVUaRThIkn_iWtegpZz7WKKMB-SmL8gaRkYru4lwxM6k5T2OWON5hg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-7214898282858474082009-10-01T00:57:00.000-07:002009-10-01T01:40:43.017-07:00Hall of the Mountain KingThe day we moved into the new offices - 14 floors above the Hungry Mile - spectacular sunsets!<div> </div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyf64Nn5X398cVLbZ7Yqi-vJvUIienCCL8h1LBnUdyqdfFJL7MCFB-k72_IJa7d5XWNpOTEwHdy0x9NiE_Y-w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-91230180811260600072009-09-17T01:22:00.001-07:002009-09-17T01:31:38.036-07:00I'm going to miss Chinatown - Continued<div style="text-align: center;">I'm sure I'll find new diversions and favourite food haunts but these are some the spots that I'm sure are unique to this neighbourhood:<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimhoWeMI4Y_DgILFSpnYC2dEUzNgTAfcsFh-RYVjUefh_Eh0w5m6FQKpG8hdrjXl-Sf76yP7XRL3RDajyoapftHmOYCflWxlPZW9TPvbR-WgBiZtJYUnRyObz7tEDm_KkOeSQ2VnIHapQ/s320/Phuong.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382349636407957938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">The best dang Vietnamese rolls around...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZX2vd-yU2W9AhOqlKFH7IVMwjFWrqHho25Vq6G2PRv0Zn6PqfvM_8dL_SxvBSHwQoEINu7QoaHEtOL-0Yc_h1aPFhDmZhEqTmDhkcQo6AhJJZqFyzDNx_P1DFcD6tNzpx87y-xDlXX0M/s320/Dixon+House.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382349627951331266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">The centre of the Chinatown food universe...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWWEJRfJCPtdlJ2UJd3dxlpx5y0VipJ59GGjxEEQ7G5n5OOF-DLMxjjZ43vvOTihW12yjVseOL5q4OihZtd6Ra3TOtngPsNpeyd6czQZXLSXwhN_Azix-XahHfbkY-M8dcCskz9CT3SQ/s320/Gateway+to+Paddys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382349650633056994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">The Gateway to Paddys...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOWDObPTAG5BWUI7BmHZJs4smL7k2uMiFhcF9ZPoTzc4s9OJ-1W1G1AijZnkelPFhofb7wo27FLhgHtPpmpgWDgGy0rcIuIFrW_4fvJds1tEHm7cU1H0fm_LB2vrHrlvrxINBcZAIzVc/s320/Emperors+Puff.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382349640766627762" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Emperor's Puffs, gooey bliss - 4 for a dollar...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwmZEUmd4DrnwMgnB92sGvuHhXK9SlJMkuoOSGNnNiXBdym5C8o31NXIneotc0ZoFRLnRqPyr5FjGxTaNg6P0JkTA2E-m3arKrfgpG2moET2eAlPsYEabnbtFdSs2r-dQ9Sg1yXNxbNE/s320/Comic+Kingdom.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382349660082848354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">And Comic Kingdom - way too much time wasted here...</div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-15445392683836193562009-09-16T01:37:00.000-07:002009-09-16T02:00:34.834-07:00I'm going to miss ChinatownOn show in the window of Mamak Malaysian Roti & Satay - This guy (and another next to him) does this all day, every day. They're consummate artists - performing with the same unconscious grace you have when tying a shoelace.<div><br /><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwv9DHRN273KbuSCPUqVnWSJHYZnt3nNo8zhZDMTSWnAbRWTpj-nsZ7A7EPdGGAcEVdSe1G8OQ1Lauuyeelug' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /></div><div>I think he got a bit camera shy, though, and tore a wee hole in this one. </div></div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-25923657735699921602009-09-10T19:15:00.000-07:002009-09-10T19:16:28.674-07:00Wes Anderson Festival promoUnfortunately not one we can make it to<br /><br /><object width="400" height="230"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4526218&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=4526218&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="230"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/4526218">Wes Anderson Trailer</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1704587">Alex Cornell</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-2554743926189419662009-09-10T01:03:00.000-07:002009-09-10T01:15:55.468-07:00It's always FairweatherChuffed over to the AGNSW this lunch break - beautiful day - the sun catching the Archibald fountain and the Gymea lilies as I skirted Hyde Park.<div>Didn't have an agenda but the wall of Ian Fairweather works caught my eye in a way that they hadn't before. </div><div>I guess, like provenance in an antique, a back story affects your appreciation.</div><div>Leonie had recorded an ABC doco about this Scot born painter who I'd never heard of previously. Turns out he was a true painting obsessive. And eccentric plus. </div><div>So, I stopped and really took them in - and was rewarded. <a href="http://collection.artgallery.nsw.gov.au/collection/search.do;jsessionid=B9603E543C82FA3B6F491A258A97B889?keyword-0=FLETTER&sort=user_sym_34&browse=australian%2Fpaintings%2Fbrowse&field-0=user_sym_39&bool-0=AND&images=true&field-1=user_sym_41&bool-1=AND&dept=australian%2Fpaintings&field-2=user_sym_41&bool-2=AND&value-1=Australian+Art%2FPaintings">Get a small taste here</a> but go and see them for yourself. And if you can learn a little about him before you go - so much the better.</div><div>Also worth a unrushed look is the "Printmaking in the age of Romanticism" - many super-natural visions of master printmakers working with the likes of Turner. </div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-53660083287241856242009-09-10T00:34:00.000-07:002009-09-10T00:53:13.056-07:00Paying the Ultimate Price in Ultimo<div style="text-align: center;">Cycle paths are great. Even those shared with pedestrians - in over 40 years of darting 'round 'em I haven't hit one yet. (That doesn't stop a lot of them recoiling like they think today's the day)<br /></div><div>But there's one moment when cycle paths turn into something bad - when they join cars.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdXi3HLQMTZxPJHBHYPnY7qWOZbTZW0li35Dp5vZN2txQMWDBgoNvm_Wh2bkMdAFKanpHqF_7jFZTDL3-lWvAP8Vc4uVTn81QZhKiBAn6L0_Mar0jFLcrPG6Dlz0Cr0PhkeSB3Ct-SkI/s320/Ultimo+flyover+cyclist.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379741756736448706" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div>Every other day I see hotshots (usually easily recognisable - not just by the skinny-tyred street machines or clinging colours but also by their dinky backpacks) zooming down off the Anzac Bridge on the <a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?hl=en&tab=wl">circular flyover</a> that goes down into Ultimo. </div><div><br /></div><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyI54xWfoSqv1LdZ4f6o1JGNmEUwTe8X2i3lI0sfaISn9ITvx4jg1yYBwsOVNntQxHBfup9B9gKDzGTHKBKcA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div><div>Speed is all so they shoot straight onto the road with nary a glance in the direction of where a car has a very real chance of appearing. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21oZnxvO23AHxntY7k0jxVg8_NFfMc_Ujje0KU4d6BNdn-fDGApuCKkcAqRKPjX9vyaz7FPApX7ysfVkU7horSPTkwKzDbjzI2v66m_1_ybzt6Nv3JPyUy0GQpPUd-js38ZdCD-0m4VE/s320/Ultimo+flyover+car.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379741763959155554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div>Every other day I also see cars come swiftly up the same stretch of Quarry Master Drive. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlagNZ6FNUvpJXsv14ieE_4H3A2aDBq_gDPg24J4tmDlqSASjCsYHXvRiw0BkQaW-sm4xKKZvRt2mrJEcKuUDz_dSTDjbzL_1fehd4HiucxsWf9nIaEenDt6Tn_ld-V-9aBm4DxrnHRyg/s320/Quarry+Master+Drive.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379742973261854818" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 252px; " /></span></div><div>Sooner or later grim coincidence must occur. I know from my own personal and painful experience that it can.</div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-6454251248694360052009-09-07T01:25:00.000-07:002009-09-07T01:38:01.917-07:00Vertically Challenged - Hard to Top<div style="text-align: center;">That structure looming in the background of 'Bridge to Nowhere 2' is the MLC Centre - man, has that got a view from the top!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMUEXQunRGAljz2iicLj1SD-L4SLqsvnuC_ugjzysXyBAhiVhv1AfFUxuSJDc1EX4X3DYmlcqbTDRP36LNM3qJwc0pEpBlF-TPH8HBTH4_PDPy4ZJtntCDp39tZPA_yW0NwWTmNjDxR0o/s320/MLC64+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378641321456246658" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span><div> </div><div>I always have a small back pack, so I easily pulled off the old "Hi, I'm a tourist over from NZ" routine (laying the accent on thuck...)</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcj3OcF0xgvTSOWTimIf5GBwp91LIc_RWwnzXaAwrI6KnWHzbGA__KqrOIohCwArGwIJpW_WTbPSnwDKj7xceuKmqjXDOUugEinrEoz25pvzszJ4VJNNi3qUg0R-4ABiph_YPv3i-hPyo/s320/MLC64+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378641324628147906" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div>Went up to the Bank of America on the 64th floor, figured Yanks'd be soft for the story - true, as it happened - that I was last up there 30 years ago with an American backpacker (OK - he was Canadian, close enough) - and would love to see how the view has changed...</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCtxOMECkjD7NIPUOseu0iKlCDwL7O22RviPI0N6bPM20QtMKbY9fHmbFNRlBTz5KNq9jT655SAQDLobQt56JL3KwEpj6BJCVLotiQ1OUFr5LdtDDd7DJwr2UB8ThgeOnQzepY4nHl_c/s320/MLC64+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378641334342287202" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></div><div>Sure! "Shir!" Would you like to go into our boardroom to take some pictures? Indeed I would... wow! Pity the light was a bit flat but, never-the-less - Like I say - hard to top...</div></div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-34875266701370898362009-09-02T01:16:00.000-07:002009-09-02T01:21:50.382-07:00Bridge to Nowhere 2<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlEHb4zUt2X4d9O12gmfS-jFYWnK2SB4LR4Q2q_BkqBqI0cBino-7FsCDc4lhlY2OxOoC5HHupNEucdWVBiYI_Gb5KtI5dZWRL0kGqrE-Hd4RktGO_mviG8llkbS_iGGz0u7gKvx99Z8/s1600-h/Bridge+to+Nowhere+2A.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlEHb4zUt2X4d9O12gmfS-jFYWnK2SB4LR4Q2q_BkqBqI0cBino-7FsCDc4lhlY2OxOoC5HHupNEucdWVBiYI_Gb5KtI5dZWRL0kGqrE-Hd4RktGO_mviG8llkbS_iGGz0u7gKvx99Z8/s320/Bridge+to+Nowhere+2A.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376781847408336514" /></a>This is just getting silly - hovering over Castlereigh St is another bridge that goes... nowhere!<div> </div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjWRGkKjCnoqJR2TMocr7KOe8c3qRssJUNdnOdisbi9qF8H3a6HcfwREKqrodfohXaxlqjk8mSWZd8nE5iOq3VSyLbJRbfRTf6O3oYBth1TDpYE5_x2q8Tt3aGSSjGLnIYgy_4ov9W_hs/s320/Bridge+to+Nowhere+2B.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376781855665488402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span><div>Actually you can get in at one end (through the Sheraton) but the other end is the dead kind - I'm seeing party venue (why are the lights on?)</div>trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3200480840186445661.post-27035708850616370772009-09-01T01:38:00.000-07:002010-01-18T19:23:11.311-08:00Operation Tikka<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center">I was given a recipe for Chicken Tikka but Leichhardt, it turned out, was not the place to find requisite ingredients like Tikka masala...<br /></div>So - heard about an outlet in Surry Hills - <a href="http://maps.google.com.au/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=shalimar+crown+street+surry+hills&sll=-25.335448,135.745076&sspn=51.27012,74.443359&ie=UTF8&hq=shalimar&hnear=Crown+St,+Surry+Hills+NSW&ll=-33.890652,151.20831&spn=0.023619,0.036349&z=15&iwloc=A">Googlemapped</a> it & set off<br />It's on Crown St down almost to Cleveland St<br />Crown is so full of funky shops and cafes I almost wished I was walking -<br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,238)"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376417856600611730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtU6EKEMKTM3A-Z-NlMgEY-nVQdLk2J7W2fjHQZSWW-9t7myhJsu0-AwyGNNfTIy7gxIQZRxKfvrmJGYJ3JkLxqP9kvOjiiy0hUpHlRFWxGcv8AybX8KkBM2at5H5KZZwSsj8AnJl2L1E/s320/Crown+St+corner.jpg" border="0" /></span> (I did stop to poke my nose in here - a groovy boutique on a corner with a red Vespa and sign pointing to Brett Whiteley's studio - cool)<br /><br /><br /> - but I'd need hours to do Crown St justice and, besides, I was on a mission<br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,238)"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376417865475726642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrSWxeywPbWK6_sYianZ6sgfZbcD8bYmRX9Qr7W5rQPCeSdQS7xSONW20gw-Lko4Pjhr-XkeOlAq8ulzs_bSfLHLQOEd2rPdNTDeDNjdR0-sXZEIiGOMlsp3n5zhJKAdaCYYSFdcrKL0/s320/Shalimar.jpg" border="0" /></span><br />Moments later I was at the destination - <a href="http://shalimarspices.blogspot.com/">"Shalimar Movies and Spices"</a> - one step inside and my nose told me this was the place...trouserbonanzahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06554845350517539337noreply@blogger.com0