Kamahl - Why are people so unkind?

I have a rant and a rave on here from time to time and I've always considered myself fairly cynical, but bloody hell - some of the people around here (the suburb in which I live) make me feel like Mr Positive.

Just lately I have had the misfortune to have close dealings with a couple of locals who seem to spend all their time 'dissing' everyone else, and anything new which may come up has some reason why it can't be done, rather than embracing change which is generally for the better - these people want everything to be the same as it's always been.

These are the same people that you may know - their sentences usually start with something like "I've lived here for 20 years and...." or "in 20 years I've never seen (insert subject here)"

The inference is that having lived locally for a number of years makes you more or less entitled to an opinion or right to have your say - whereas someone who hasn't lived locally for so long should automatically have less of a say, or no say at all.

These are also the loudest shouting people in the neighbourhood who consider that everyone shares their opinions (or should share their opinions) and they therefore are the hard done by majority (in their view).

So - to the header - Kamahls famous quote "Why are people so unkind?"

Going by the people I am referring to here it's down to:

a) stupidity (in more than one case) with  a blinkered narrow view, and
b) pure nastiness because setting people against each other, spreading rumours and gossip around the neighbourhood, and creating an unpleasant environment to destroy good works where others have worked hard to build good relationships and a strong community must help their self esteem in some way.

Go figure, because I can't.

I have taken steps to not engage with these people any more, and it seems to have a good effect on me, as I feel a little happier in myself, but it's sad that a community can be ruined by a few toxic and unpleasant people.

Shame.

Bees, and the birds (but not really birds)

My fascination with bees began many years ago. I have always had an interest in self sufficiency since watching episodes of 'The Good Life' back in the UK as a kid, I don't know why the comedic lives of Tom and Barbara Good resonated so much with the young Maximus, but my Mum spent a lot of time in the garden, growing vegetables and flowers and teaching me the ways of the home farmer. Flowers attract bees and even as a young boy I was aware that bees were the friend of mankind and spent hours watching them forage in and around our garden, improving our fruit and vegetable yields, whilst perpetuating their own species.



Later in life I discovered the books of Conan Doyle and read about the life and times of Sherlock Holmes. Apparently it isn't common knowledge that this fictional character took up beekeeping upon retirement. Another resonance in my life, so I think I've always been destined to spend at least some of my time looking after bees - my style of beekeeping is to really let them get on with it and provide them with a nice pest and disease free environment, something that is much easier in this part of Australia than many other parts of the world. We are yet to suffer many of the problems of the rest of the world, such as colony collapse disorder, or the curse of the Varroa mite, which sadly many believe to only be a matter of time.



I spend a lot of my working day on the road, and during winter in Australia many of the normal flying insects which buzz around in summer are hibernating or taking it easy in some other form, so it makes bee spotting very easy. When you have an interest in something it seems to be on your mind a lot and I started to notice bees flying around whenever I was stopped at traffic lights. Bees seem to like to rest on white vehicles too, though I've always been a little concerned when the lights turn green, traffic moves off, and a bee starts to unwittingly hitch a ride. The disaster of a quick rest turning in to a long or possibly unnavigable flight back to the home hive, loss and maybe even death..... dramatic stuff.


So back to the point, as I see so many bees around traffic light junctions, does it mean that bees navigate by road? Everything I have read on the subject tells us how bees use the sun to navigate, and once a food source has been found the bee dances to tell the other bees in the hive where to find the good stuff. This is perfectly acceptable to me. However, as bees are apparently able to use landmarks to know where they live, why shouldn't they also use landmarks to navigate. We can see this in the way that bees in a newly established (either moved or installed) hive will have a navigational expedition on their first morning, rising up into the air to get their bearings and learn their new surroundings. This also goes on with the young worker bees as they grow. The toilet flight as I call it that my girls have in the afternoon (depending upon the season the time during the day of the toilet flight varies) also appears to be an opportunity for the young ladies to rise up and take stock of their surroundings until they are mature enough to go out into the wide world to forage and bring back food for the rest of the hive.

There often seem to be so many bees around road areas, traffic lights and crossroads, and yet if I go on foot around the local area, away from roads and built up areas, I don't see bees taking a regular 'flight path' being used apart from in the near vicinity of any of the wild colonies that I know exist.
It's a weird phenomenon which a few other beekeepers I have discussed it with have now started to notice. If bees use roads to navigate is open to conjecture, but I think it might make sense as roads once built don't very often move so supply a regular non moving landmark.

Bee awareness is massively magnified once you start keeping bees, and whenever I'm out walking the dogs or whatever, its interesting to watch bees on local flora whenever there is a honey flow on. Bushes and trees, literally 'abuzz' with bees bring a smile to my face, as it does when I see a bee alight gently on a car stopped at traffic lights, or one flying along above the traffic in the haphazard way that they do when on a mission either back to the hive, or out to forage. It certainly seems to disprove the phrase 'bee line' as bees in flight often fly along constantly adjusting their course rather than in a direct straight line.

I guess the question left at the end of all of this should then be, do bees stop at red traffic lights?

Volunteering - Why bother?

Sometimes, something really makes you want to spit. Or swear. Or kick the dog. Not that little Fido has done anything worthy of being on the receiving end of a toe punt, it's just an expression.

Volunteering in the community is a very nice way of helping others, and it has its own rewards - not in any monetary sense but in that warm and fuzzy feeling that you get when you know a job has been well done, or you helped an old lady across the road. You get the picture. Altruistic pleasure. It's a good thing.

I love to see those TV programmes where you have a whole community coming together and planting vegetables on verges outside houses for communal consumption, or there is a working bee to tidy someones garden - you know the kind of thing

Our state in Australia has the oddest phenomenon. Ambulance Attendants (we'll call them attendants for want of a better name - could be driver, medical assistant or whatever) and Firemen are often but not always unpaid volunteers. In a country where we have a relatively small population and seem to pay an inordinate amount of taxes it seems surprising that such important professions - for they are really professions in all meanings of the term - are filled by unpaid volunteers. For those that want to do it and get their rewards from participation and job well done - I applaude your efforts, but I do find it a little strange that in a so called civilised country we rely on the kindness of those donating their time to get such jobs done - and lets not quibble that in the main either position might not provide the best of times for anyone willing to risk their life and possibly mental wellbeing to attend a call out. PTSD could well be a factor at some point during the life of an unpaid volunteer, as it could with  a paid counterpart, but how is this possibility dealt with in either case?

I heard recently that cancers 'caused by' or due to factors experienced by paid fire service employees could be treated freely under a workers compensation agreement negotiated in the pay conditions of an employee. Volunteers were not eligible under the same agreement. What? Yes - CFS and MFS fight the same fires and are exposed to  the same conditions - one is a paid profession the other a volunteer unit, yet one gets their compensation, the other doesn't. Somehow this shouldn't be allowed. In Tasmania, there is no such demarcation, and all firefighters are eligible. Paid firefighters in Tasmania make up just 6% of the entire firefighting force. I suspect the numbers are similar in other parts of the country.

And so to volunteer fatigue -

As there is no cash payment for volunteering, and yet much of our society seems to rely on people doing things out of the goodness of their hearts, one couldn't possibly expect too much from a volunteering peer. Having been a member of a couple of volunteer organisation committees it's never easy to encourage new volunteers and a well meaning group can often lose focus and the volunteers lose interest and drift away. Bullying doesn't work - I have seen other community organisations run like a finely tuned engine where those in command run rough shod over their minions - but not for long, as people will soon tire of working hard for someone else to take the credit.

In a society where we are taught that everyone has an 'angle' and no one does anything for nothing without some kind of payment - in kind or otherwise - it is increasingly difficult to get people off their bums and out of doors to do something to help their fellow man.

Apathy seems to be on the increase and although many people want the government, local council or whomever to sort out their problems, it's just "not their job", and community then seems to suffer..

I recently organised a presentation to our community association from the grafitti and crime prevention people at our local council. From a comittee of 10 people in a community of 450 houses we had 5 people turn out. The event had been organised after quite a large amount of tagging/grafitti had been done locally, and a couple of residents were keen to find out what could be done (by the council) to fix their problem, so we publicised it locally, and it was a really interesting presentation. Regrettably hardly anyone attended. The rest were all probably at home watching 'the voice' or 'masterchef'. Exciting stuff.......

So what's the point of having a community association and trying to get people to volunteer if they aren't interested in the community, their neighbours or keeping the place a nice place to live? Why should we bother to try and set a good example to our youth and instill some good core values?

One day you might need to use the emergency services and if there's no one volunteering to do the dirty jobs, you might just be stuck on the road in a vehicle accident, whilst others rubberneck past wondering whose job it is to fix someone elses problem.

Escaping Death......

So it's finally happened.

My maverick gardening ways have finally helped me to get closer to meeting the big one. Not that I'm into 'extreme gardening' or anything - I couldn't see me with rope and harness weeding a sheer cliff face, or picking exotic blooms from a swamp infested by crocodiles.

We're building a community garden which is a lovely way to pass time with a little hard labour (rewarding), sharing knowledge and chat (engaging), and breaking bread or sharing a bottle or two when the work is finished (my kind of socialising). The fruits of our labours will come later but are only a small part of the bigger picture, as the goal is really to get people meeting up, doing constructive things together and taking an interest in the wider community and all the benefits that brings.

Building materials for raised beds or similar which are ideal for community gardens are expensive and not too easy to come by unless you have a little imagination, and some kind of ute or van where something dumped or otherwise discarded at the side of the road can be 'collected' before the next man gets there. *See earlier post about the roadside recycling revolution*

At the end of a long and dusty track down near a local river I found a couple of discarded tyres - Ideal for planting potatoes or any number of rambling plants such as pumkins.

Remote dusty tracks that are seldom used, near water, in a sunny spot (see where I'm going with this?) often are a mecca for snakes. We have a few types here and all are extremely venomous.

As I was with my beloved, I was advised by that this was an ideal habitat for snakes - something I already knew and to be honest didn't need reminding about - but in my manly and of course better knowing way I humoured her by vowing to be careful and kick the tyres before picking them up. The first tyres were OK. Four empty and useful tyres found their way from refuse to recycle and straight into the back of the ute. The next one was a little further away from the track and nestling amongst some long grass, broken bottles and stones. It was a particularly large and attractive tyre and in my minds eye I could see it taking pride of place in our garden with a huge crop of delicious veggies sprouting forth......

As I stepped off the path and onto the gravel I aimed a kick at the tyre (the lovely big one) and my boot cruched on some broken glass. This noise disturbed the afternoons sunbathing of a huge brown snake - certainly the biggest I have ever seen in my life.

As it's beady eyes met mine, the world turned in slow motion.

It coiled and flexed as if to spring.

I flexed my delicious looking thigh and calf muscles, (to a snake obviously!) in a primaeval instinctive reaction to prepare me for fight or flight

We both moved as one, though luckily in opposite directions as I stumbled backwards and away from this deadly native, and it made for cover into the longer grass. OK - so not that dramatic, but a few inches more and it certainly could have been. Needless to say the tyre collecting stopped there and then.

I learned at least two things from this.

1) Consider the terrain and always look out for deadly snakes as they are very common here.
2) Listen to 'she who will be obeyed' as she appears to have a sixth sense for this kind of thing. This isn't the first time I've had a similar experience after being warned, but this was certainly the closest and definitely the biggest snake I have seen so close. My leg muscles weren't the only muscles that flexed at that time I can tell you, and my underpants nearly met an untimely and messy demise.......

They say that you can't escape destiny though, and the next day whilst digging in my garden I was stung in the face by an angry bee. Not sure why it was angry. Perhaps it was the angle I was using my spade or the colour of my T-shirt that offended its fashion sensibilities - who knows the logic of a bees brain?

I think out of the two it was the preferred option, and I certainly felt that in the garden I have dodged a bullet, for now at least.

Which was more than can be said for that bee.......

Negative Man? Maybe I'm mellowing?

I'm thinking after reading all my previous posts that I must be a new breed of super hero - my only super power - to be extremely negative and miserable.

Maybe I should post a warning for unsuspecting readers: Don't read any further unless you delight in reading miserable drivel.

I think I should perhaps reveal the address of my other blog where all the 'good' posts go but that could possibly spoil my image as a grumpy old man.

I've really enjoyed writing some of this stuff as it seems to get ideas that I feel I may be obsessing over into print, and out of my head and is a good record and reflection of my mood at a particular time.

I can read back from this point in the future and a little unlike a diary pick up on my feelings and as there is plenty of space here to ramble and rant on, I don't have to suffer wondering what I was referring to back then, that was obviously so important.

One of my favourite lines from a song is from "Remote" by Hue and Cry. Just think how many song lyrics there are and how some may be really special to you for any number of reasons. From time to time you hear a lyric from the myriad songs available and in one particular moment of time and space dependant on your mood or some life event you will know exactly what the person that wrote it meant and you will forever identify with that song as something special.

'I am remote from you now. Remote as old diary phrases.'

Other songs may be a struggle for us to understand what on earth (or otherwise!) is being referred to - some lyrics just totally fall out of your frame of reference and may therefore appear to be incomprehensible - or may just be something nonsensical that we aren't supposed to understand. If you 'get' a writers lyrics, particularly if you are in the right frame of mind, you may really feel a bond with the writer and support them in buying their music or going to one of their gigs and get a massive kick out of either or both.

A band from the late 90s which had some extremely odd lyrics in its songs was Mansun - a much underrated outfit in my opinion though I didn't understand a lot of their words but just liked the tunes in a lot of their recordings. On one of their albums there is the fabled 'hidden track' where the band reveal 'The lyrics aren't supposed to mean that much. They're just a vehicle for a lovely voice. They aren't supposed to mean that much.'

Which brings me rather neatly to an unanswered question. Given that I've discussed how one may feel at a particular time and how a song may relate to your life in an incredible way and then becomes emotionally engaging in some way in a hypothetical example where you may have broken up with your significant other and hear some of that miserable 'Adele' type music (sorry - try as much as I can, I just can't like it....) and then develop this emotional attachment and possibly always trigger this feeling whenever you hear this song, for the rest of your life. So here's the question - answers on a postcard please:

Over a significant period of my life I have listened to classical music - even more so over the last 18 months and now have virtually stopped listening to most other types of radio or other music in favour of classical in its many and varied forms. I've also been going to a series of live classical concerts performed by our local excellent symphony orchestra during this time.
How is it, that certain phrases of music can instill such passionate feelings in one. For example, a quiet violin solo in the middle of something loud can if played correctly give you a feeling of such joy that you feel your emotions brimming over and tears forming. Nimrod from Elgar's Enigma Variations has such a structure and I find it difficult to listen to, without feeling overwhelmed by emotion. This feeling seems to be amplified during a 'live' performance too which can lead to embarrassing struggles to keep a stiff upper lip what? Even in performances of as yet unheard tunes - so it isn't something that we have an emotional attachment with like an old song, and  there are no lyrics to help with the tune here, a particular passage can bring such feelings of joy or sadness - but why is this so? Perhaps it is something to do with the frequency of the sound and the way that our bodies may resonate at a particular frequency.

It's a mystery to me. I've read a lot of theories in the subject but I don't think anything has ever been 'proven' to date. If this idea of frequency resonance is correct - how can two people sitting next to each other be differently affected. How is it that music in general has the power to move one so much in a way that other things can not. How often have you been moved by a scene in a movie, and find later that it was perhaps the music that actually caused (or at least greatly enhanced) your reaction? I know that it has happened to me countless times.

I don't have the answer but I'd be interested to know what your opinion is. Feel free to post below - the only prize will be my gratitude for taking the time to read this and respond. That's it for this post. I hope you weren't disappointed that it's not one of my usual rants, but you can always look further down for those.......

TTFN

Graffiti in all its glorious forms.

OK - so I've now got way too much time on my hands without the half hourly subscription to facebook - what do I do to fill my spare time?

One of my many hates is graffiti - and more specifically tagging.

In fact - lets just stop and think about this for a moment.

I can actually see some kind of twisted pleasure in vandalism. I mean - who hasn't smashed a bottle and got a cheap thrill from the glass breaking (just don't think about the consequences of some poor animal discovering the results of your moments guilty pleasure with its unclad feet you unfeeling bastard.....) but scrawling undecipherable scribbles on 'something' be it a public or private place? - well that really escapes me.

I mean - firstly the approach seems a bit wrong. The word graffiti kind of instills a bit of cool to the activity.

Let us re appropriate this phrase to what it really is. Graffiti now becomes: Scribbling.

I urge you to (at least mentally) replace every instance of the word graffiti that you see with the word scribble, or scribbling.

This immediately takes away 'the cool'.

So what does that leave us with?

The poor suckers that 'cooly' paint their 'tag' on any fence, building or other (substitute your own item here)  are really searching for some kind of approval from mummy. Where else have you seen that indecipherable scribble? Yes - you remember - Kindy - playschool. Basically under five year olds do it.

What's the problem cool guy?

Mummy not give you enough attention, crayons, or paper when you were a toddler and now you feel you have to show someone else to get some kind of reaction?

It isn't art you know.

Art is something that provokes reaction, most commonly in an emotional response - good or bad. What people see when you scribble on a lamp post is not really the same thing so don't kid yourself.

So - I volunteered for the local council team of graffiti clearing up guys - we don't have a name. No one knows who we are - so I guess we must be supermen (unless your name is Lois). The guy that co-ordinates the volunteers calls us 'Dads Army' as  most of the volunteers are retired or elderly blokes with spare time on their hands looking to see what they can do to piss off the younger generation.  Haha! Revenge is ours!

The council have virtually unlimited funds - that is to say, that if they need more money they only need put up your mum and dads rates. If you live in rented housing and don't pay rates don't think you'll get away with it there either Buster. You mum or dad will have to meet the rising cost of rentals because someone has to recoup their costs somewhere along the line. In short - we've got more paint than you. We've got more time than you. We work in the daylight and not by torchlight.  Although you think it's really cool to scribble on that bus stop, lamp post or road sign, ultimately we all pay for it to be cleaned - so why do it? You aren't Banksy and never will be.

Think about that for the rest of your life when you're working at McDonald's and progressing your career on the way up to a job in a bank or wherever and become what you're currently rallying against, and probably depise most - a respectable human being; most likely with a mortgage!

Then you will also learn to hate the scribblers and wonder if their mummies didn't pay them enough attention when they were five too.

Either way - I have news for you - You will be assimilated! It happens to everyone sooner or later.

TTFN

Facebook Urgh.....

Hi fans.

It's been a while since I last posted and indeed I seem to have not only broken but smashed into smithereens my new year resolution 2012 to post at least one item every month.

In truth I guess that the idea behind opening an account and posting this stuff on line was for its cathartic and mentally beneficial effects on me and not so much for your enjoyment. Anyone that knows me (and this posting is largely anonymous) may even worry about some of the things written here - it's not like I'm going to go out on a killing spree or anything dramatic like that, but I reveal something of a darker and more gripey area of my personality that I normally hide.

Hence the idea to be able to post things here and get them off my chest and stop them clouding my brain ( Hey - clouds in my brain....there's a catchy title if ever I heard one......)

So here's the latest instalment.

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, and when I look back on my previous posts on here, they certainly do seem to act as a barometer for my thought processes.

My latest activity which I am really proud of is deactivating my Facebook account.

Facebook is so useful. You don't have to send loads of piccies as attachments to those significant others in your life and clog up their mail boxes. You can just dump them into facebook and they can be viewed at your friend and families leisure - a brilliant invention. You can keep up to date on the minutiae of your mates, and they can keep up to date with you. Except I don't think that's what is really happening. Mostly people want to put their own status on facebook and invite comments - they don't necessarily want to read about you. In fact - I'm pretty irritating and I reckon that most of my 'so called' friends on facebook have hidden my posts so they don't have to read them. But woe betide you if you aren't sympathetic to their personal troubles, or if you make some kind of negative or otherwise contentious comment on their status........

There are many downsides.

But possibly the worst think about facebook is that it's addictive - I found myself checking its status maybe every half hour, or even more - whenever I got a free moment at work - possibly adding up to 20 or more times per day along with the time I would spend before and after work checking statuses - adding (probably unwanted) comments to others status' and doing all the other stuff one does on facebook. This could include access on the network at work or via my mobile phone (NOT an iPhone - see earlier posts......) but really - for what? In the hope that one of my FB buddies would put something in their status that would enrich my life or prompt some kind of emotional or otherwise response? Are we all so numb that we have to view others lives and share everything that others are going through good and bad? Heaven forbid that we should meet 'down the pub' or phone one another and talk about anything without giving a 'heads up' on facebook first to gauge public responses.

In the end I realised that along with media sensationalism (accentuate all the BAD things that are happening in the world), reality TV in all its spectacular forms, and all the other stuff we have to deal with on a day to day basis, facebook was causing me a great deal of pain and suffering and now I have been free of its bonds for over a week and apart from one or two times where I have had a spare moment and thought about checking it I haven't even missed it.

Facebook actually makes it really difficult to delete your account and even when you go to deactivate your account they put up pictures of your on line friends and tell you that XX is really going to miss you - are you sure you want to deactivate your account? I shit you not! Try it with your own account - you don't have to go through with it but you'll see what I'm talking about.

So what have I done constructively with my time off facebook? Well - a fair bit actually. I also decided to free myself of the bonds of TV at the same time as going 'off line' and only actually watch what I schedule myself - TV is brilliant - even though there's nothing on I can manage to pass away a lazy evening just flicking between channels (much to the chagrin of my poor and long suffering darling wife) but think about ONLY watching those programmes you really enjoy and then either turning off the TV or watching a movie or something educational or even something from your selection of long recorded but never viewed TV programmes that you just couldn't miss.........
I've listened to a LOT of classical music because that's something that doesn't demand your attention - in other words it's something that can be heard whilst you are engaged in other activities.

I even visited my local library and checked out and read a couple of books in the evenings beside the fire (albeit with a nice glass of red - we are in winter - Southern Hemisphere you know dahling.....) so there is life after facebook. Don't be afraid!

I read a lot of other blogs before I had the courage to deactivate my facebook account, detailing others thoughts on the whys and wherefores. Now I'm starting to wonder if it's something I should have done a lot earlier, but as with all addictions, there's always a good reason why you shouldn't give something up.

NB  -  Before I sign off I should add that I've been really itching to reactivate my FB account and checkout who RIP'd the Bee Gees. Not that I think that's a terribly bad thing (the RIPing) as it shows respect (though also an addiction to mourning sickness - which you should really google if you don't know what I'm talking about) but in the last week some really significant people died - Alan Oakley (the designer of 'The Chopper' - a part of many 70s childhoods) and Eugene Polley (little known inventor of the first wireless TV remote control) and I'll bet they don't even get a mention in the populist listings.

TTFN