I went to lunch, rather unexpectedly at a very posh restaurant a few years back, my companion was paying and she’d asked me to choose a restaurant I’d like to go to – “Choose an expensive one”. She said.
I chose the Bathers’ Pavillion completely unaware of just how expensive it was.
Rather than make a deal out of it in the course of the meal, on the way out I apologised rather ashamedly, that I’d never have suggested it if I’d realised that it was going to cost quite so much. And her reply to me was something along the lines of.
“Life is the sum total of your experiences. It isn’t how much you spend, it was worth it to have the experience.”
I’ll never forget it, the experience itself or that she said this. It has really stuck with me.
I had one of those experiences this evening. I’d been browsing the events guide in June and noted that my best mate’s favourite musical was on. I gathered the details, suggested we go for her birthday.
And tonight we went.
The show was ‘Blood Brothers” which is not a lovely, happy clappy, romancy production. It’s a dark look at the English class system.
And it was playing in Newcastle. Which is about 150km from the Northern Beaches – (given the major urban factor of where we are, it’s conceivably a 2.20hour trip).
One Way.
Which wouldn’t be in the least bit crazy if I hadn’t just spent the last 3 days with one eye closed behind the viewfinder of the camera, photographing our latest ‘Big Thing’ or if I’d realised that this was the weekend daylight saving finished, effectively doing away with an hour of the already very short night’s sleep I was anticipating. Or if we’d booked a night in a motel to save the effort of driving all the way there and back for an evening… But there were kids to come home to, and I’ve got to hit the books again today… so, it was a flying trip up the freeway for us.
On the scale of crazy this probably doesn’t even really rate a 5… not as daft as dropping everything and driving 4 hours for a hamburger, or other things I may or may not have done as a teenager (I’m thinking about an alleged night of ledging around the War Memorial Museum in Auckland – nearly made it ALL the way round… but not quite).
And so, my life is richer for having shared this experience with Kirk. Getting onto the wrong roads for sheer distraction at the import of our own conversations, fortuitously getting there on time in spite of our complete lack of knowledge of the local area… Driving all the way back in the dark talking about the stuff girls talk about.
I’d do it again in a heartbeat… I’m all for adding to the experience of life… and not just letting it happen… so Shoe, if you’re reading this, get ready. We’re going to Dubbo for a weekend in November…

Mary and Boaz are moving out from the apartment upstairs putting paid to, all prophetic utterances concerning the identity of husbands, conversations concerning the spiritual well being of all of our neighbours, suggestions of means by which I may well initiate discussions of the state of said neighbour’s mortal souls (including the delivering of invitations to church events and and prayers for salvation etc.).
It will also put paid to the conversations late into the night directly above my bed (happily I have not been subjected to the sound of other ‘late night shenanigans’ and thoughts of whether or not such things occur, (given their newly weddedness and albeit advanced 70+ years) are resolutely not to be considered).
In their leaving I have come into the possession of some of their cast offs… First off, a box of preaching tapes. At least that’s what they appear to be called… does anyone know what to do with a ‘cassette tape’? I have no idea…
An American Standard Bible with all manner of personal family history hand lettered in the front… wondering how I can throw this away… is it a sacrilege? I can’t give it away… who would want someone else’s family history? As far as this Bible itself is concerned I don’t need it… I have all the Bibles I need in my computer…
I have also inherited their printer/copier/scanner. That one cost me a fifty, but as I’ve not had a printer that worked in… ooh, years I think I’ll make good use of it.
A letter box. Which is not at my gate and which is the secret place for my spare set of house keys. Vital given my history with getting locked outside the house…
The ‘booty’ also includes a modem for local wireless provider ‘Unwired’ and a favour to sell it for them on e-bay. How does one say “no… sorry, don’t want to” and if one even thinks such a thing is one being churlish and selfish?? I mean I took all the other stuff figuring out I can chuck it away and no feelings will be hurt… selling a modem comes with RESPONSIBILITY… eep.
And a 4.5 volt power pack for some unknown item of electronica. Could be useful… could also go in the bin…
As the pair of them have been sitting out on the street for the last two days flogging all their stuff I’m left wondering what’s going to happen to the gear that didn’t sell… will it get taken in a taxi to the dump? Will it be left on the street for the scavengers (read kerb surfers)? Or will it be generously left for us remaining tenants… as a gift…
It remains to be seen.
I wish them well, they were pleasant neighbours and good for the odd blog post… and now the neighbourhood no longer have to duck their heads when Mary and Boaz pass by, for fear of receiving another lecture on sin and salvation and the healing power of the love of Jesus.
Here’s the thing. I’m fully acquainted with sin salvation and Jesus. I’ll talk about them to anyone who asks. I just don’t go there uninvited. And therein lies the difference.
Ah well, all the best to to you Mary and Bo… I’ll see you on the other side. And in the meantime their place will be taken up by a new tenant this week.
A boy.
A single boy.
A single church boy.
A single church boy of the same persuasion as me.
Methinks ’tis time to roll out the Welcome Wagon*.
*and by that I don’t mean the kind of welcome wagon as rolled out in neighbourhoods like Wysteria Lane…
Just so we’re clear…

I am no longer a stranger in a strange land.

Well, let’s be realistic, it’s still a strange land… but as of today I have legal proof that I belong.
Yep, it’s official. I am now a Kozzie or a Kiwi/Aussie.

After a rocky beginning, and still resolutely supporting the only sports team in the world I placed my hand on my holy book and made a pledge of alleigance to the great nation of Australia. [cough]

The ceremony was uneventful enough, gorgeously punctuated with the innocent cries of “Dee! Dee” from the dear little voice of my godson JJ, warmed also by the support of his muvver Kirk, MissLisa, Shoe and Flick all there to cheer me on, I stood with 50 other candiates and pledged to uphold and promote good Australian values. In return we were all presented with our legal proof and with a native tree for planting in good Australian soil. The symbol of setting down roots, as it were. The whole business was presided over by statesmen and elected representatives, all very important sorts in the grand scheme of things, of course.

It is beyond a doubt a day I’m proud of and one I will celebrate, but I have to confess to a very awkward feeling surrounding this business of becoming a part of Australia, a nation upon which, as a Kiwi, it is my birthright to pour scorn. Truth to tell I find myself caught out when taking the piss because now my credibilty is shot… I mean, how can I beat them if I’ve decided to join ’em?! However, the benefits far outweigh the awkwardness and so I will own that today is a day of auspisciousness.

In its honour and in the absence of the opportunity [v disappointing] to make a speech at the ceremony [I know I’d have been much funnier than the dignitaries], may I just say

…to Australia who has given me such marvellous opportunities I say thank you. You are a generous and hospitable nation… I truly look forward to getting to know you better…

…and to New Zealand who has given me my origin, my blood and my religion I say … you are my past, and while not my present for now, I’ll never rule out that you may yet be in my future… Keep a close eye on my precious family… I will love you always… [sniff] …

…Oh yeah, and before I forget… break out the Steinies, I’ll see you on the 21st!!!