Auto awesome

I call these two 'good morning feline'.

Memories

I’ve spent this morning going through photos for pictures of my grandfather, Harry Trelogan, who passed away on Thursday afternoon. It’s made me realise a couple of things.

First, that my picture taking habits have changed quite a lot over the past ten years – I used to take hundreds of photos, put them on facebook, store them in big batches and look at them occasionally. Not any more. These days it’s all about snapping a quick shot on the mobile and working out the best way to share it with people. Once it’s sent or uploaded or whatever, I just don’t think about it again. Photos aren’t memories any more, but more a method to crack a joke.

I’m not sure how I feel about this really, but now that I am actively seeking photos for memories, I can’t help but feel I might have it around the wrong way.

The second is that who my grandfather was to me has changed a lot over the years. My earliest memories of him (and many after) were always of him as half of pair – Gran and Gramps. Those memories revolved around visits to their house, being spoilt rotten, crying together at the sad scenes in Dumbo, Terry’s Chocolate Oranges and being showered with love. They were hugs and biscuits and comfort.

Later, he was a role model to me in humour, hospitality and sharp dress sense. To this day, I am yet to see another man wear a neck scarf with such aplomb or meet anyone quicker to offer you a drink when you walked in his door.

More recent memories are centred on the decline of this health, where his personable nature was increasingly clouded with confusion. Even during these days Harry maintained a strong work ethic – mum and dad’s garden has never seen such sustained attention as when Harry was still able to potter.

Throughout all these different understandings and perceptions of him there were common threads of sometimes surprising sensitivity, unconditional love and wit.

The last thing that I realised was that despite not having seen him in almost a year (and even then it was challenging to see the man I once knew), I still miss him more now that he is gone.

The advertisers have probably won (or why I dislike the Simon Baker ANZ ad)

I've been thinking for a little while now how much I hate the ANZ ad with Simon Baker that's on TV at the moment. Dana is probably sick of hearing me whinge every time it comes on the box (I don't know why I still call the TV the box, it's not a box anymore, it's a big flat plasma panel - habit I guess). I'm not sure what it is that really grabs me about it, I seem to be able to ignore most advertisements and let them wash over me mindlessly, but this one always annoys me enough to speak out/mute/change the channel.

I think initially it was that he says he knows what I'm thinking, and then proceeds to tell me what he thinks I'm thinking about banks while failing to make eye contact with the camera. This annoys me, and it's completely off the mark as well - I'm not thinking about banks at all. I'm thinking about how much I dislike being told what I'm thinking and WHY WON'T HE LOOK ME IN THE EYE?! I'm also thinking 'why is an Australian doing an advert for Australians, about an Australian bank, filmed in the US with an American accent? And while we're at it, is he supposed to be his character from the "The Mentalist" or what?'.

If I were thinking about banks, it would probably be more like 'I wish I didn't have to put up with bloody incompetents to get our mortgage - is it that hard to have a mortgage package that is highly competitive AND not be useless bastards?', but that really is beside the point, because I can't think about banks when the advert is on. I'm too busy thinking about how much I hate Simon Baker and his annoying commercial.

It turns out someone on the internet is at least part of the way there with me already, as the parody of the ad I bumped into on YouTube this afternoon evidences.


I find it immensely satisfying that someone somewhere in the great wide internet has come to the same conclusions as me without ever having met me.

My message to advertisers: please don't tell me what I'm thinking. I don't like it. And it is disconcerting when someone is talking to me but doesn't make eye contact. Please don't do it.

PS: Those whole post and the amount of thought I've put into this ad has probably been exactly what the advertisers wanted. I understand this. It doesn't mean I like it.

Life in the bus lane

When I moved into the new place at the start of the year, I gave up my urban walk to work life style for a far more suburban existence.

This has had it's benefits and drawbacks. I now spend around an hour a day sitting on buses and a variable amount of time hanging around at bus stops. I also don't see the local drunks getting into their morning long necks at the corner store, or the small congregation of Turkish (I think) guys having their morning catch up. I actually rather miss these things.

What I don't miss are the regular break ins in the apartment parking lot and living on a main road, not to mention the occasional altercation with the local colour over my ownership of the beer I've just purchased from the corner shop.

You may think I include the time spent on the bus as a downside, and at first it was. However, as the morning walk to work becomes a more distant memory, the more I enjoy the contemplative moments jostled in amongst the other wage slaves, the more I enjoy starring out the window like a zombie insulated from the world by the glass and the small speakers nestled in my ear canals.

This is one of the best parts of my day. My mind is at its most relaxed and wonders with abandon. I am close to people, I am one of the mass, but we do not need to communicate, just be.

I almost feel sorry for the suckers stuck in traffic on the other side of the glass.

PS: this post was written entirely on my phone while on the bus on the way to work this morning. Only this post script and some minor formatting was added aferwards. The wonders of modern technology!