It's just not right.

Number one son, who's 12 and about to start secondary school is about to embark on a huge life-changing event. No, I don't mean puberty, it's bigger than that. He's going to switch his football allegiance.

(Those of you who are in Ukraine, Texas or Queensland will have to stop reading now because none of this will make any sense to you.)

There's a pretty decent rule of thumb that says that after the age of 10 you can't change teams. There's a few exceptions: if you move cities you can change, or if you are severely mentally disturbed you can (my cousin, for example, went from being a life-long Melbourne supporter to being a rabid Collingwood supporter at the age of about 40. But that just shows you how unbalanced he is).

So Number One Son really should stick with his current choice. But after a fair amount of soul-searching on my part I've worked out that he gets a dispensation from the rule. We were living in London when he decided to go for Brisbane and so I think he can be excused on the grounds of poor information. Unless you're in Melbourne you can't possibly know enough about the teams and, more importantly, the cultural stereotypes around their supporters to make an informed choice. (Pies fans don't have their own teeth, Demons supporters live in map59 and go to Falls Creek, Dogs supporters are pessimistic and long-suffering, St Kilda supporters don't really follow football at all, and so on..)

On the weekend he said he was going to go for Hawthorn. I suspect this was just done for effect because he knows how I feel about the Hawks, but I did point out to him that if he goes to Scotch AND barracks for Hawthorn he'll be a walking stereotype and everyone's going to hate him.

Mad

Quote of the day (so far): Number 2 son's face suddenly lit up, and apropos of nothing in particular, he said "And I got a new cricket helmet, from Santa. It's mad!"

Which I like because 2) he doesn't believe in Santa, and 2) the way he suddenly came out with it and started the sentence with "and" made it sound like we'd stumbled midway into some private conversation.

Death

I was chatting with an acquaintance earlier today and whingeing (as I do) about how I don't know anyone in Melbourne and how my entire life is ruined for ever because I have to stop going out for a couple of nights in a row, and I wondered out loud whether there were any parties that would be fun to go to (he's someone who would know).

He was quite firm in his response. "Nobody will hold a party in January. Having one before February is social death".

So there!

More Melbourne

This morning, my ex (no, not A. I mean my ex-wife, the mother of my children) asked me if I could do her a favor. She wanted me to go to Philippa's for her, to pick up a few things. Now, going to Philippa's mid-morning on Christmas eve is non-trivial (I know this because I had been there earlier in the morning on an unrelated mission). The parking situation on High Street is dreadful, then when you get into the shop itself it's mostly full of braying yummy-mummies each of whom wants something special, with a smattering of clueless dithering husbands. I'm not a ditherer there, by the way. I go in very purposefully.

So as I was considering this request I was thinking it'd take a short but nasty drive in thick traffic, ten to fifteen minutes to find a park, then a fair amount of aggravation in the shop itself.

So I said "Yes". Because, I quite literally have nothing better to do.

Xmas parties, and my annual morose whinge about being in Melbourne.

It's official: the next person who whinges to me about how tired they are of going out to all these christmas parties - the 'silly season' - is going to be thumped.

Why? I hardly go to any, unless you count a tepid booze-up with a law firm or an insurance company. So don't go complaining to me about how dreary these parties all with all the PR people are, or advertising, or even consulting. It could be much worse.

On a procedural note it's that time of year, so here's my annual existential misery rant. I'll summarise this time, it's quicker and it's all ground I've been over with you.

1. I have two lives (yes, only two now, settle down). In Sydney I'm a man-about-town; in Melbourne I'm a father-of-four. The separation works nicely.
2. It breaks down when I'm in Melbourne with time on my hands, as I am now
   
3. I don't live in Melbourne, so I'm effectively homeless when I'm here
4. I don't have many friends in Melbourne
   
5. The few friends I do have here don't appear to like me at all

So I can't stay home and relax because I have no home. And I can't go out because everyone hates me. Or they might as well. If this year follows the usual pattern, by the day after christmas I'll be sitting in a car in the parking lot at the 7-11 on the corner of Springvale Rd and Blackburn Rd with a slurpee in my hand, banging my head against the steering wheel and wondering where it all went wrong .

Which of course is ridiculous - my life at the moment is a thing of great beauty and joy. It's just being here in Melbourne that sets me off.

Spam Poem

I was checking the spam file on my gmail account and I noticed some very evocative headers. I can't resist it, I'm making them into a poem. Be grateful it's not interpretative dance.

I need you urgently

We have you been, honey?
Don't reject my calls!
I'm in trouble, where are you?
I had to stop after 8 inches

Why did you leave me?
I don't know where you are
We need you here, now!
I lost your cell number

Dont go home now!
Let's meet as usually
Have you changed your number?
It's cold, don't keep me waiting

I need you urgently

Cars of Glen Waverley

The suburb my mother lives in in Melbourne used to be a very anglo-celtic whitebread suburb but in the last generation it's become a favored destination for middle-class chinese (for those who don't know, 25% of Australians were born elsewhere, and if you include people who have an overseas-born parent it's over 50%). What does this mean for the neighborhood? A couple of things. For a start, the high school, which was a mediocre suburban high school when I was there a thousand years ago is now one of the best in the state and is the biggest feeder school to Monash University (when I was there they thought I was strange, and they used to throw things at me). And, of course, the culinary landscape has changed a lot. The local dining scene is incredibly competitive and fad-driven and generally excellent - for some types of super-authentic Asian foods its the middle-class suburbs on the far fringes of the city that really produce the goods. The New Territories.

But what I love most is the cars. The picure above is a good example. Notice the cartoon characters everywhere? This car also had a tissue box in the back, for extra points.

BBQ me

Me in very uncharacteristic pose: outdoors with a beer in hand. Having said that, I've been a bit of a lush lately. Four beers last Wednesday night (but I was out with a headhunter!) and three last night.

As for the outdoorsy thing, I've resolved that this summer I'll go to the beach. I seem to be the only person in Sydney who doesn't and they can't all be wrong. It's just that it's a bit hot and sandy and boring.

Counting

When I see Quentin, my personal trainer, he pushes me hard. He makes me do things that are difficult, things I wouldn't do if it were just me. And he encourages me; half-way through a set, for example, he'll say "strong" and I'm never sure whether it's a command or an observation, either way it seems to have some effect.

One thing in particular used to nearly drive me crazy. If I'm doing, for example, 12 shoulder raises and there's a fair amount of weight so that I'm struggling, he'll as often as not do some helpful subtraction for me. So that when I get to ten, he'll helpfully say "two more". Now the first few times this happened I found it difficult not to be offended. I know that twelve minus ten is two, and because I'm so acutely defensive (I'm the sort of person who automatically thinks that unsolicited advice is criticism) I found it hard to resist the notion that somehow he thought that I couldn't do even basic arithmetic.

But, you know what? It actually does help.