Response to a Critic

Recently I was subjected to some rather nasty comments from an anonymous detractor. Whilst this has not been an unusual occurrence over the last eighteen months, the abuse was aimed at my iDad and Pine Gap stories – not at me personally. I’ve got a pretty thick skin (head too according to some) when it comes to insults about my appearance, intelligence or behaviour. However, targeting poor defenceless iDad and the good Colonel Drax, was a little harsh.

My policy of not posting bad language on my site meant that you guys were spared this individual’s ridiculous diatribe. However, the gist of his / her comments were along the lines of my stories being ‘shite’ and that I should give up writing.

“After all,” it said. “You can’t polish a turd.”

Well my cowardly critic, have I got news for you 😉

Leaving Me For Years

I was sitting in the Ampersand Cafe & Bookstore in Crown Street a little while ago when I stumbled upon a small paperback titled ‘I Quite Like My Wife’, by John Turnbull. The book contained an interesting series of poems and short stories, some of which were quite entertaining, whilst others were very poignant. The poem below however really spoke to me and I have transcribed it for you as a subtle reminder that there are two sides to every story.

A Poem By John Turnbull.

“Well hello stranger… welcome home,
Yes, I’m leaving you, my dear.
Come, come…don’t look so woebegone,
You’ve been leaving me for years.

Look, no one likes to be alone,
Don’t insult me with your tears.
Where were you when I needed you?
You’ve been leaving me for years.

And even when you were at home,
You were never really here.
Always a million miles away…
You’ve been leaving me for years.

You’ll tell your friends that I left you,
I guess that’s how it appears.
Goodbye stranger…tell the truth.
You’d been leaving me for years.

My apologies to Mr. Turnbull for not seeking permission to reproduce his work. Unfortunately I cannot find any reference to his novel or identity online other than the copy of the cover above. Please contact me if you are the author, know the author or represent the author.

Gen Y – an iDad Perspective

What is Generation Y?

The simple definition of the generations is as follows:

1901 – 1924: The Greatest Generation aka The Veterans.

These guys were born during the Great War, grew up through the Great Depression and fought in World War 2. They were fed on food stamps, handouts and the grapes of wrath. If you want to argue their right to call themselves the Greatest Generation then go for it. Unfortunately you are likely to be clobbered by a walking frame, prosthetic limb or Stephen Spielberg 😉

1925 – 1945: The Silent Generation.

These poor buggers grew up in the shadow of the Greatest Generation. They were the children who were supposed to be seen and not heard, and when they tried to speak up they copped an earful of:

MP: In them days we was glad to have the price of a cup o’ tea.
GC: A cup o’ cold tea.
EI: Without milk or sugar.
TJ: Or tea.
MP: In a cracked cup, an’ all.
EI: Oh, we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper.
GC: The best we could manage was to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
TJ: But you know, we were happy in those days, though we were poor.
MP: Because we were poor. My old Dad used to say to me, “Money doesn’t buy you happiness, son”.
EI: Aye, ‘e was right.
MP: Aye, ‘e was.
EI: I was happier then and I had nothin’. We used to live in this tiny old house with great big holes in the roof.
GC: House! You were lucky to live in a house! We used to live in one room, all twenty-six of us, no furniture, ‘alf the floor was missing, and we were all ‘uddled together in one corner for fear of falling.
TJ: Eh, you were lucky to have a room! We used to have to live in t’ corridor!
MP: Oh, we used to dream of livin’ in a corridor! Would ha’ been a palace to us. We used to live in an old water tank on a rubbish tip. We got woke up every morning by having a load of rotting fish dumped all over us! House? Huh.
EI: Well, when I say ‘house’ it was only a hole in the ground covered by a sheet of tarpaulin. But it was a house to us.
GC: We were evicted from our ‘ole in the ground; we ‘ad to go and live in a lake.
TJ: You were lucky to have a lake! There were a hundred and fifty of us living in t’ shoebox in t’ middle o’ road.
MP: Cardboard box?
TJ: Aye.
MP: You were lucky. We lived for three months in a paper bag in a septic tank. We used to have to get up at six in the morning, clean the paper bag, eat a crust of stale bread, go to work down t’ mill, fourteen hours a day, week-in week-out, for sixpence a week, and when we got home our Dad would thrash us to sleep wi’ his belt.
GC: Luxury! We used to have to get out of the lake at six o’clock in the morning, clean the lake, eat a handful of ‘ot gravel, work twenty hour day at mill for tuppence a month, come home, and Dad would thrash us to sleep with a broken bottle, if we were lucky!
TJ: Well, of course, we had it tough! We used to ‘ave to get up out of shoebox at twelve o’clock at night and lick road clean wit’ tongue. We had two bits of cold gravel, worked twenty-four hours a day at mill for sixpence every four years, and when we got home our Dad would slice us in two wit’ bread knife.
EI: Right! I had to get up in the morning at ten o’clock at night half an hour before I went to bed; drink a cup of sulphuric acid; work twenty-nine hours a day down mill and pay mill owner for permission to come to work; and when we got home, our Dad and our mother would kill us and dance about on our graves singing Hallelujah.
MP: And you try and tell the young people of today that ….. they won’t believe you.
ALL: They won’t!

Gotta love Monty Python 🙂

1946 – 1964: The Baby Boomers.

So called because all the hippy free love and LSD of the sixties promoted a massive population explosion. They are responsible for bell-bottom trousers, love beads, chunky plastic jewellery and other fashion faux pas so gaudy that even St Vincent de Paul won’t accept their donations. Many of these people are still coming down from their high and are busily making sure they don’t leave behind any inheritance.

There are over 5,000,000 Baby Boomers in Australia alone and their motto is:

We believe that fun doesn’t have to be the privilege of the X or Y Generation, and that Baby Boomers (BBs) have the right to feel as young as they like for as long as they like.

Be nice to the X and Y Generations BB, for we will be funding your nursing homes 😉

1965 – 1982: Generation X.

Charged with repairing the damage done by the baby boomers’ excessive / compulsive nature and high-level consumption of the world resources, Generation X missed out on the Beatles, Vietnam and the good music of the Rolling Stones. Your average Gen-Xer is early forties, raising a family, worried about the cost of electricity and fed up with petrol prices. On top of that Generation Y is nipping at our heals with their tweets, Facebook likes, visible butt crack and abbreviated text language.

We were the first generation to grow up with computers and as such we are technically adept. We came of age in an era of dual income households and we often known as ‘latchkey kids’. Divorce rates were high amongst our parents and as a result we became self reliant and skeptical of authority. We grew up with grunge music and MTV (back when it was cool) and, unfortunately, we live to work rather than work to live.

1983 – 2000: Generation Y.

Y should I get a job?

Y should I leave home and find my own place?

Y should I get a car when I can borrow yours?

Y should I clean my room?

Y should I wash and iron my own clothes?

Y should I buy any food?

Nuff said 😉


R U OK?

Today is R U OK? Day.

It’s a national day of action which aims to prevent suicide by encouraging Australians to connect with someone they care about and help stop little problems turning into big ones.

“In the time it takes to have your coffee, you can start a conversation that could change a life. On R U OK? Day, who will you ask?” – R U OK? Day founder, Mr. Gavin Larkin.

According to the website:

“Depression is one of the most common mental illnesses experienced by Australians and research tells us that one in five Australians will experience depression in their lifetime. Moreover, 4 per cent of us will experience a major depressive illness in a 12-month period. Clinical depression is nothing to be ashamed of and it is always worthwhile to ask for help if you think you might have clinical depression.”

The Black Dog Institute concurs that depression is a common illness, and according to beyondblue, around one in six Australian men will suffer from depression at any given time. Probably one of the most disturbing points raised on the beyondblue website is:

“The experience of male depression is complicated by the fact that men are more likely than women to shy away from medical treatment of any kind. Instead of discussing psychological problems, or seeking appropriate treatment, men may turn to alcohol or drugs when they are depressed or anxious.”

Has this always been the case? I don’t know, I’m no expert. I am however the father of three teenage boys and I can tell you that getting them to talk is akin to extracting teeth.

So where has this disconnect come from?

From my perspective male gender roles have a lot to answer for. The saying ‘big boys don’t cry’ was very common when I was a child, often delivered by older generations to stop the squawking of a bleeding boy desperate for a band-aid.

These men went to war, watched their friends die, endured the Great Depression and became the archetypal patriarch of the family. They were expected to earn the living, make the decisions, provide for the brood. All the while burying their feelings deep down inside. Men weren’t allowed to shed tears, feel emotions, or express themselves.

We went to the pub, drank beer and watched sport with our friends, never once opening up to each other.

And who decided that this was how it was supposed to be? Men, probably. Then we passed it down from generation to generation.

This is all supposition of course. I haven’t done any research. I don’t have all the answers. I’m just a man 😉

I do tell my dad that I love him every time I see him.

I do hug and kiss my boys whenever they leave.

And I try to talk to people when the going gets a little tough.

So, on R U OK? Day do yourself a favour. Talk to your friends, your family and connect with those you care about.

Are You Ok? — Matt

R U OK? – the organisation

R U OK? is an independent, not-for-profit organisation whose purpose is to provide national focus and leadership on suicide prevention by empowering Australians to have open and honest conversations and stay connected with people in their lives.More than 2,100 Australians suicide each year and men are around four times more likely to die by suicide than females. For each person that dies in this way, another 30 attempt to end their life (Lifeline).R U OK? aims to inspire all Australians to help reduce our suicide rate by reaching out and making contact with others.Most people don’t openly share their feelings, particularly when they’re struggling so don’t wait for a sign and trust your instincts. A conversation could change a life.The best thing we can all do is regularly ask the people we care about: “Are you OK?” regardless of whether they are at risk because connection is good for us all.