Just recently someone mentioned to me that the Today Show (Channel 9) did a story on mothers. They referred to 3 categories of "Mummies":
Yummy Mummies
Sportish but stylish Mummies and what they referred to as
Slummy Mummies
and continuously referred to "Slummy Mummy" in their show. Apparently yummy mummy is meant to be favourable and slummy mummy is not meant to be so.
Now I think this has overlooked many diffferent types of mummies. The television show has neglected to mention many different types of mummies, so I list the following:
crummy mummy (hopeless mummy)
dummy mummy (stupid mummy)
chummy mummy (mummy who's also your best friend)
tummy mummy (mum who has a paunch, probably hasn't lost fat from having three kids)
glummy mummy (mummy who's always totally depressed and thinks the world is about to end)
bummy mummy (mummy with a big rear end)
hummy mummy (mummy who hums classic rock while she does the dishes)
summy mummy (mum who's a whiz at arithmetic, usually good at household budgets, corrects the checkout chicks a lot and helps you with your maths homework)
gummy mummy (mummy whose teeth fell out due to eating too many lollies in her youth)
scummy mummy (mummy who doesn't bathe too often)
mummy mummy (embalmed mother)
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Thursday, 18 March 2010
Wednesday, 2 December 2009
The Karate Kid Remake
I'm really sorry I can't share the pics of this remake with you, you'll have to go to the website to see them, but I have just found out they are remaking the movie The Karate Kid.
The classic cheesy original featured Ralph Macchio as Daniel-san, who even though he was in his twenties, played a teenager (he's a bit like Michael J. Fox, he just never grows up), who moves into a new neighbourhood in America. He gets bullied by these local guys and is surprised one day when a local maintenance guy, Okinawan-born wise old Mr Miyagi (Pat Morita) jumps the bullies. Mr Miyagi becomes his karate mentor and teaches him techniques unconventionally, as well as about honour and self control etc. And so he ends up one-upping the bullies by the end of the movie.
Most of us watched the movie and remember classic lines like "Wax on, wax off" and Daniel trying to do the crane stance, or catch a fly with chopsticks, or Mr Miyagi being able to mend his leg by rubbing his hands together, or giving the silent smile through the crowd and the nod.
Anyhow, I read about this remake, and I naturally read plenty about people being angry as hell that their original was to be 'tarnished' with this idea of a remake.
Here's the set up. Will Smith has pitched the idea for a remake, to star his nine year old son, Jaden as The Karate Kid. There's been talk of calling it The Kung Fu Kid, possibly partly to update it and partly to not offend people who are extremely precious about The Karate Kid.
A mother, for work reasons, goes to live in China, her son Dre (Jaden) is attacked by bullies and needs to learn Kung Fu. A master of kung fu teaches him both kung fu and how to speak Chinese. The kung fu master is played by Jackie Chan.
A lot of blood is being spilled on the message boards. Some claim that people who are against the movie are only against it because they are racist, and don't want to see a black kid learning kung fu. Others say they aren't racist, others say yes, they just don't think a black kid is right for the role - it just does not fit well in the story. It doesn't portray the ethnic issues realistically and they can't relate to it, and anyway, everyone thinks of the Karate Kid as white nowadays.
Other objections brought up are that:
1. Jackie Chan is the wrong actor to step into Pat Morita's role. He's too young and too flippant and funny. In fact you didn't even need a really good martial arts actor to step into Morita's role - what was more important was that the person had the right warmth and chemistry, because Mr Miyagi teaches more lessons about self restraint and less kicking ass in the movies, that's what he's really about.
2. It doesn't matter that Jaden is black, but it does matter that he's nine years old. No one can relate to a nine year old getting beaten up; you don't believe he really needs martial arts lessons, not serious ones. You feel that more at his age he is just likely to get into a few scraps and be teased. The film is a coming of age story and Jaden is not the right age to give that any real meaning.
3. A lot of posters just hate the idea that Jaden got the movie through his Dad - the nepotism, stating that he's untalented and wouldn't have got it if it hadn't been for Will.
This objection ... well I can understand the resentment, but it's basically born out of jealousy, hell we'd all do it if we could, we just didn't get the chance. If we had a rich and famous father who could give us opportunities or 'legs up' we'd take them (not necessarily in showbiz but in some other way) and not think twice about it. Most of us have this already and don't think twice about ti, taking it for granted. Many of us live in houses, get pocket money, went to certain schools, got Christmas presents, had parents of certain intelligence who may have given us advice, some might have parents who helped us with a loan or said they'd babysit our kids for free ... WHATEVER.
All that is help, but if you mention it to many of these same people and say it's getting help from fortunate parents with resources, they cite it as "different" from getting your big rich Daddy helping you put you in a Hollywood film because all the help they receive is 'normal, regular help', but getting a film is "unusual".
Actually, it just means that you're used to it. There are some people who would look with envy at your level and say "I hate those rich lucky bastards who get pocket money and can go whingeing to their parents every time something goes wrong and can dump their kids/dogs/parcels at their parents when they need a break ... spoiled brats!"
It's just a matter of degree. And some people are sure they can pick what degree is "acceptable", trying to convince others it's generally acceptable, when what they really mean is "acceptable ... to me". And that level is usually "Up to as many opportunities as I get, is acceptable for others to have too! But don't go too much further than thaaaat!"
4. Another poster suggested that a better remake, if one had to be done at all, would have been to put an aging Ralph Macchio into the Pat Morita role and have him teach a small Japanese kid the way of Karate ... that is, if it's possible for Ralph Macchio to age.
I'm not particularly looking forward to this Karate Kid myself, but then I never saw the Next Karate Kid. I only saw the ones with Daniel-san. The original and the best!
The classic cheesy original featured Ralph Macchio as Daniel-san, who even though he was in his twenties, played a teenager (he's a bit like Michael J. Fox, he just never grows up), who moves into a new neighbourhood in America. He gets bullied by these local guys and is surprised one day when a local maintenance guy, Okinawan-born wise old Mr Miyagi (Pat Morita) jumps the bullies. Mr Miyagi becomes his karate mentor and teaches him techniques unconventionally, as well as about honour and self control etc. And so he ends up one-upping the bullies by the end of the movie.
Most of us watched the movie and remember classic lines like "Wax on, wax off" and Daniel trying to do the crane stance, or catch a fly with chopsticks, or Mr Miyagi being able to mend his leg by rubbing his hands together, or giving the silent smile through the crowd and the nod.
Anyhow, I read about this remake, and I naturally read plenty about people being angry as hell that their original was to be 'tarnished' with this idea of a remake.
Here's the set up. Will Smith has pitched the idea for a remake, to star his nine year old son, Jaden as The Karate Kid. There's been talk of calling it The Kung Fu Kid, possibly partly to update it and partly to not offend people who are extremely precious about The Karate Kid.
A mother, for work reasons, goes to live in China, her son Dre (Jaden) is attacked by bullies and needs to learn Kung Fu. A master of kung fu teaches him both kung fu and how to speak Chinese. The kung fu master is played by Jackie Chan.
A lot of blood is being spilled on the message boards. Some claim that people who are against the movie are only against it because they are racist, and don't want to see a black kid learning kung fu. Others say they aren't racist, others say yes, they just don't think a black kid is right for the role - it just does not fit well in the story. It doesn't portray the ethnic issues realistically and they can't relate to it, and anyway, everyone thinks of the Karate Kid as white nowadays.
Other objections brought up are that:
1. Jackie Chan is the wrong actor to step into Pat Morita's role. He's too young and too flippant and funny. In fact you didn't even need a really good martial arts actor to step into Morita's role - what was more important was that the person had the right warmth and chemistry, because Mr Miyagi teaches more lessons about self restraint and less kicking ass in the movies, that's what he's really about.
2. It doesn't matter that Jaden is black, but it does matter that he's nine years old. No one can relate to a nine year old getting beaten up; you don't believe he really needs martial arts lessons, not serious ones. You feel that more at his age he is just likely to get into a few scraps and be teased. The film is a coming of age story and Jaden is not the right age to give that any real meaning.
3. A lot of posters just hate the idea that Jaden got the movie through his Dad - the nepotism, stating that he's untalented and wouldn't have got it if it hadn't been for Will.
This objection ... well I can understand the resentment, but it's basically born out of jealousy, hell we'd all do it if we could, we just didn't get the chance. If we had a rich and famous father who could give us opportunities or 'legs up' we'd take them (not necessarily in showbiz but in some other way) and not think twice about it. Most of us have this already and don't think twice about ti, taking it for granted. Many of us live in houses, get pocket money, went to certain schools, got Christmas presents, had parents of certain intelligence who may have given us advice, some might have parents who helped us with a loan or said they'd babysit our kids for free ... WHATEVER.
All that is help, but if you mention it to many of these same people and say it's getting help from fortunate parents with resources, they cite it as "different" from getting your big rich Daddy helping you put you in a Hollywood film because all the help they receive is 'normal, regular help', but getting a film is "unusual".
Actually, it just means that you're used to it. There are some people who would look with envy at your level and say "I hate those rich lucky bastards who get pocket money and can go whingeing to their parents every time something goes wrong and can dump their kids/dogs/parcels at their parents when they need a break ... spoiled brats!"
It's just a matter of degree. And some people are sure they can pick what degree is "acceptable", trying to convince others it's generally acceptable, when what they really mean is "acceptable ... to me". And that level is usually "Up to as many opportunities as I get, is acceptable for others to have too! But don't go too much further than thaaaat!"
4. Another poster suggested that a better remake, if one had to be done at all, would have been to put an aging Ralph Macchio into the Pat Morita role and have him teach a small Japanese kid the way of Karate ... that is, if it's possible for Ralph Macchio to age.
I'm not particularly looking forward to this Karate Kid myself, but then I never saw the Next Karate Kid. I only saw the ones with Daniel-san. The original and the best!
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
My First Holiday in a Long Time
It may sound strange to some people, but I haven't had a holiday in a long time. I mean a holiday out of Sydney, not a holiday from work. As a member of the unemployed ranks at the moment, you might say I'm constantly on holiday, although I'm studying. Kinda. And even then I had a mid-semester break just last week.
I also had my first holiday out of Sydney for what seems like a long time. I was just sitting around when my sister invited me to go to Canberra for two days because she was driving out there to meet someone for a chat, and would I come along? We could go in the morning, she'd go meet the lady while I spent time wandering about, we'd share a hotel room for a night, spend the next day looking around, then leave that evening. She'd do the driving. I can't drive. No way.
It seemed a good idea to me, and it was fun, but different from what I expected.
First, Sunday morning we headed out and we decided to use the Tomtom to navigate. We were out on the highway and we were gone about an hour and a half when we decided to take a rest break. We stopped, ate a piece of fruit and my sister had a little snooze, and then when we started up again ... yes, the darn TomTom wouldn't work again!
It's amazing how you rely on that silly lady's voice telling you to "turn right here". We panicked!
Eventually we decided we should keep going, after all we still could remember which direction to go on the highway and apart from that there wasn't too much else that could go wrong. But we kept squealing about "Oh darn, does this mean we'll have to find a MAP? Not one of those things!" like we were contemplating taking on a bucket of dead rats.
Finally - oh joy, I fiddled around with the TomTom enough that an hour later it jumped back to life and we both sighed with relief and swore that we would never do anything to cause it harm or want to leave us, ever, ever again. Precious baby.
I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do when we got to Canberra. Mel had to go meet her church-friend, and I was dropped off in Canberra, not daring to do anything too ... well, daring. I didn't dare catch a bus. I'm bad enough at navigation as it is, I was finding myself lost as I walked around, and I had this horrible vision of myself catching a bus and being stranded out in the outer suburbs and not knowing how the hell I'd got out there and how the hell to get back and my sister calling me and wanting to know why I wasn't back at the designated meeting place when we agreed.
So I crept carefully. I followed a sign saying National Film and Sound Archive.
Now, I don't know where they hide that place but I couldn't find it despite the signs or the strange directions people gave me. "Past the white building there's a place with a big dome on it" ... heck, I couldn't see a dome, or if that's your idea of a dome, you and I need to have talks. Big talks.
I ended up wandering around the ANU and admiring the grounds for a short while.
Then I checked out a few shops and bookstores. I can't help myself checking out bookstores.
After a good browse through the books, I managed to get myself to the Canberra Museum and Gallery where I saw a few really cool collections. The funniest was a great collection of record covers. It's hard to say what's so cool about quirky record covers, except you've just got to see it. Sometimes the names just speak for themselves - like "I fell in love with a prostitute" Sermon by Rev. Jasper Williams. Others, well the artwork was so "interesting" I just had to laugh.
But best of all, for me, was the children's activity table. There was a table with a bird chart and some coloured pencils and a bird picture book nearby, and a sign that said "Read the picture book and write your own bird story" with some little blank booklets provided.
Naturally I did as instructed. I don't think I draw as well as Julie Vivas (illustrator of the supplied picture book) but I rather liked my story. If I can improve my pictures I may be onto a hit picture book. And all that in just a few minutes of inspiration!
Later, I saw another smaller Art Gallery and some more bookshops before I was picked up and went off to church and dinner with my sister.
The next day went like this ....
I lay in bed thinking, gee, it's all dark, I think I must have awoken early, I won't get out of bed yet, specially as my sister isn't awake yet. I don't know how long I was thinking this.
Then I heard a maid knock on the door and say "HOUSEKEEPING!"
My sister drowsily called from her bed "Umm, later!"
I asked what the time was. My sister said quarter past seven. I replied, "Gee, that's early for housekeeping."
"Sorry, I mean it's almost ten," said my sister.
"Hmmm."
With checkout having to be eleven, this rather changed things.
We managed to get out and go to the National Gallery and it was fantastic, except that I think I may have walked in on a few tours. It's one of those disconcerting things about tours in galleries, you have all these groups being shown around by tour guides and if you're there by yourself and you want to just inspect a piece of art by yourself, you feel like you're getting in the way when you have a group of fifteen standing around in a semicircle with a guide marching in front of the painting pointing out features and explaining history and symbolism and stuff and you just want to have a good peer.
Still, peer I did!
I don't know, I don't mind some of the "modern" art there but I usually really prefer wandering in the sections where there are portraits of ladies or landscapes rather than huge canvases of solid colour with a few simple geometric shapes on them. I guess it's all a matter of taste.
After that we planned to go to Cockington Green, the miniature Village ... but my sister wanted to have a nap for twenty minutes before she drove ... and that twenty minutes became two hours ...!
So instead we drove straight back home ...
and right in time for dinner!
It mightn't seem like we did a whole lot but in fact it was just nice to get away for a couple of days, look at some beautiful art, have a wander, and not feel pressured to dash from place to place under time constraints. I enjoyed it!
I also had my first holiday out of Sydney for what seems like a long time. I was just sitting around when my sister invited me to go to Canberra for two days because she was driving out there to meet someone for a chat, and would I come along? We could go in the morning, she'd go meet the lady while I spent time wandering about, we'd share a hotel room for a night, spend the next day looking around, then leave that evening. She'd do the driving. I can't drive. No way.
It seemed a good idea to me, and it was fun, but different from what I expected.
First, Sunday morning we headed out and we decided to use the Tomtom to navigate. We were out on the highway and we were gone about an hour and a half when we decided to take a rest break. We stopped, ate a piece of fruit and my sister had a little snooze, and then when we started up again ... yes, the darn TomTom wouldn't work again!
It's amazing how you rely on that silly lady's voice telling you to "turn right here". We panicked!
Eventually we decided we should keep going, after all we still could remember which direction to go on the highway and apart from that there wasn't too much else that could go wrong. But we kept squealing about "Oh darn, does this mean we'll have to find a MAP? Not one of those things!" like we were contemplating taking on a bucket of dead rats.
Finally - oh joy, I fiddled around with the TomTom enough that an hour later it jumped back to life and we both sighed with relief and swore that we would never do anything to cause it harm or want to leave us, ever, ever again. Precious baby.
I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do when we got to Canberra. Mel had to go meet her church-friend, and I was dropped off in Canberra, not daring to do anything too ... well, daring. I didn't dare catch a bus. I'm bad enough at navigation as it is, I was finding myself lost as I walked around, and I had this horrible vision of myself catching a bus and being stranded out in the outer suburbs and not knowing how the hell I'd got out there and how the hell to get back and my sister calling me and wanting to know why I wasn't back at the designated meeting place when we agreed.
So I crept carefully. I followed a sign saying National Film and Sound Archive.
Now, I don't know where they hide that place but I couldn't find it despite the signs or the strange directions people gave me. "Past the white building there's a place with a big dome on it" ... heck, I couldn't see a dome, or if that's your idea of a dome, you and I need to have talks. Big talks.
I ended up wandering around the ANU and admiring the grounds for a short while.
Then I checked out a few shops and bookstores. I can't help myself checking out bookstores.
After a good browse through the books, I managed to get myself to the Canberra Museum and Gallery where I saw a few really cool collections. The funniest was a great collection of record covers. It's hard to say what's so cool about quirky record covers, except you've just got to see it. Sometimes the names just speak for themselves - like "I fell in love with a prostitute" Sermon by Rev. Jasper Williams. Others, well the artwork was so "interesting" I just had to laugh.
But best of all, for me, was the children's activity table. There was a table with a bird chart and some coloured pencils and a bird picture book nearby, and a sign that said "Read the picture book and write your own bird story" with some little blank booklets provided.
Naturally I did as instructed. I don't think I draw as well as Julie Vivas (illustrator of the supplied picture book) but I rather liked my story. If I can improve my pictures I may be onto a hit picture book. And all that in just a few minutes of inspiration!
Later, I saw another smaller Art Gallery and some more bookshops before I was picked up and went off to church and dinner with my sister.
The next day went like this ....
I lay in bed thinking, gee, it's all dark, I think I must have awoken early, I won't get out of bed yet, specially as my sister isn't awake yet. I don't know how long I was thinking this.
Then I heard a maid knock on the door and say "HOUSEKEEPING!"
My sister drowsily called from her bed "Umm, later!"
I asked what the time was. My sister said quarter past seven. I replied, "Gee, that's early for housekeeping."
"Sorry, I mean it's almost ten," said my sister.
"Hmmm."
With checkout having to be eleven, this rather changed things.
We managed to get out and go to the National Gallery and it was fantastic, except that I think I may have walked in on a few tours. It's one of those disconcerting things about tours in galleries, you have all these groups being shown around by tour guides and if you're there by yourself and you want to just inspect a piece of art by yourself, you feel like you're getting in the way when you have a group of fifteen standing around in a semicircle with a guide marching in front of the painting pointing out features and explaining history and symbolism and stuff and you just want to have a good peer.
Still, peer I did!
I don't know, I don't mind some of the "modern" art there but I usually really prefer wandering in the sections where there are portraits of ladies or landscapes rather than huge canvases of solid colour with a few simple geometric shapes on them. I guess it's all a matter of taste.
After that we planned to go to Cockington Green, the miniature Village ... but my sister wanted to have a nap for twenty minutes before she drove ... and that twenty minutes became two hours ...!
So instead we drove straight back home ...
and right in time for dinner!
It mightn't seem like we did a whole lot but in fact it was just nice to get away for a couple of days, look at some beautiful art, have a wander, and not feel pressured to dash from place to place under time constraints. I enjoyed it!
Monday, 24 August 2009
The Dancin' Kid
Here's a story about a new kiddy craze, and for the life of me I can't follow the logic of the objections in the story - just the sentiment. Maybe someone can help me out.
Well it's about this new fad, where in Oxford Street, people can bring along their kids and have them hit the dance floor. Kids can dance around and groove to flashing disco lights and wear feather boas and drink organic apple juice at the 'ultimate dance party' where they will be heavily supervised by babysitters, while their mothers can go upstairs and relax with some champagne.
It sounds like a cool business concept except some people, like the head of the Australian Childhood Foundation Dr Joe Tucci, said that kids were growing up too fast and it seemed to be phrased as an objection in the article:
"As a community we are pushing children into an adult world at a faster and faster rate," he said.
"We need to realise that childhood development is a phase in itself and it shouldn't be shaped by adults and what they see as important."
Now let's assume it was in response to the Baby Loves dancing place, and I'm assuming it because of the context of the article, which also said the event was expected to be divisive.
Now, I'm just wondering what 'growing up too fast' means (leaving out any comments about I thought everyone grew up at the same rate). Basically first of all the doctor says that we shouldn't shape childhood development by what adults see as important.
On the other hand it seems to me he sees childhood development as important, and not pushing children into an adult world too fast as important (inferred by his first sentence) which kinda contradicts his first statement logically if taken perfectly literally as "adults should impose no values about childhood development whatsoever".
The other thing is, what counts as an adult world anyhow, is it adult simply because adults think of it as one, and that's because adults see flashing strobe lights and think of that as "ooooh, that's what I look at and think of as adult-ish!" After all, I can't think what makes dance lights inherently adult-ish, it's what we project upon them. And again, this is another thing about adults imposing values on their kids' development.
It starts off as a weird argument:
1. Children should have their childhood, free from what adults think is important.
2. However, since adults think something like running around nude or bopping to rock music or wearing a feather boa looks like it is adult-like-play (a symbol that is important to adults but truly, probably doesn't usually mean jack to a toddler)
3. Then we should remove it from our child's development and in this case, remember what we think is important. Like what our symbolism means to us or what our neighbours think or whether we think our child is going to grow up to be dysfunctional because later they'll be an adult and it will become important to them THEN we assume because it's important to us NOW.
I'm not saying I think kiddies should necessarily indulge in 'adult' pursuits; and indeed some pursuits could be classed as inherently adult, that is, children are legally prohibited from doing them or their bodies cannot cope with them or are not able to perform certain functions. Others are possibly more projections of society - say wearing makeup. Nothing prevents a toddler boy from putting lipstick on, physically, it's just that our expectation is that it's mainly for people of a certain age and gender.
I'm just trying to work out how these arguments run. Possibly it could have been done better. Maybe people should come right out and say "I am sick of seeing kids dressed in little boob tubes and g-strings, it gives me the heebie jeebies! Get them back in the dungarees and jumpsuits where they belong!"
Well it's about this new fad, where in Oxford Street, people can bring along their kids and have them hit the dance floor. Kids can dance around and groove to flashing disco lights and wear feather boas and drink organic apple juice at the 'ultimate dance party' where they will be heavily supervised by babysitters, while their mothers can go upstairs and relax with some champagne.
It sounds like a cool business concept except some people, like the head of the Australian Childhood Foundation Dr Joe Tucci, said that kids were growing up too fast and it seemed to be phrased as an objection in the article:
"As a community we are pushing children into an adult world at a faster and faster rate," he said.
"We need to realise that childhood development is a phase in itself and it shouldn't be shaped by adults and what they see as important."
Now let's assume it was in response to the Baby Loves dancing place, and I'm assuming it because of the context of the article, which also said the event was expected to be divisive.
Now, I'm just wondering what 'growing up too fast' means (leaving out any comments about I thought everyone grew up at the same rate). Basically first of all the doctor says that we shouldn't shape childhood development by what adults see as important.
On the other hand it seems to me he sees childhood development as important, and not pushing children into an adult world too fast as important (inferred by his first sentence) which kinda contradicts his first statement logically if taken perfectly literally as "adults should impose no values about childhood development whatsoever".
The other thing is, what counts as an adult world anyhow, is it adult simply because adults think of it as one, and that's because adults see flashing strobe lights and think of that as "ooooh, that's what I look at and think of as adult-ish!" After all, I can't think what makes dance lights inherently adult-ish, it's what we project upon them. And again, this is another thing about adults imposing values on their kids' development.
It starts off as a weird argument:
1. Children should have their childhood, free from what adults think is important.
2. However, since adults think something like running around nude or bopping to rock music or wearing a feather boa looks like it is adult-like-play (a symbol that is important to adults but truly, probably doesn't usually mean jack to a toddler)
3. Then we should remove it from our child's development and in this case, remember what we think is important. Like what our symbolism means to us or what our neighbours think or whether we think our child is going to grow up to be dysfunctional because later they'll be an adult and it will become important to them THEN we assume because it's important to us NOW.
I'm not saying I think kiddies should necessarily indulge in 'adult' pursuits; and indeed some pursuits could be classed as inherently adult, that is, children are legally prohibited from doing them or their bodies cannot cope with them or are not able to perform certain functions. Others are possibly more projections of society - say wearing makeup. Nothing prevents a toddler boy from putting lipstick on, physically, it's just that our expectation is that it's mainly for people of a certain age and gender.
I'm just trying to work out how these arguments run. Possibly it could have been done better. Maybe people should come right out and say "I am sick of seeing kids dressed in little boob tubes and g-strings, it gives me the heebie jeebies! Get them back in the dungarees and jumpsuits where they belong!"
Sunday, 16 August 2009
Accidentally turning your Child into a Question Time Monster
Sue Dunlevy wrote this article in the Daily Tele about the difficult issue facing parents on the issue of teen drinking. And I'm not talking about my precious orange juice either, which seems not to be nearly as controversial as I thought it was.
Parents didn't always want to let their kids drink alcohol, preferring them to stay on the wholesome sugar-not-alcohol infused options as long as possible. At least it just kept you up all night watching cartoons and dancing rather than spewing in the toilet. You got fat rather than dizzy on overdoses of juice, Coca Cola, and really big home made chocolate milk shakes.
Anyhow, keeping them off the juice - I mean the alcohol, which for some reason is often nicknamed juice - for as long as possible, was desirable to many, but it also meant possibly getting put down by your kids.
Ms Dunlevy said that none wanted to experience the withering put down Frances Abbott gave her father, Tony Abbott:
“What would you know, you’re a lame, gay, churchie loser,” Frances Abbott told her Dad when he offered her some advice.
"Clearly she is a young woman who has learnt her parental handling skills from watching Question Time." - wrote Ms Dunlevy
There, I think, Ms Dunlevy has a good point. What the heck are pollies thinking at Question Time - except maybe a bit of nostalgia from school years when they got to call others name and brawl a lot. "Mr Speaker" is just another name for "teacher"?
Politicians often have families and children. They're often mouthing off about family values and lamenting the lack of courtesy and respect in the community and in certain generations. Then they go and put on a great display in Question Time when they blast all that away.
OK, yes, sometimes it's funny, in the same way reality TV is funny, but basically it's also hypocritical, so if you really think about it, it's a matter of 'do as I say, not as I do' or mainly 'Yes, I lament the loss of certain things in our community and I believe that those values should be there in the community, but not for me, not at this time, because I'm privileged.'
That probably isn't an easy one to explain to some younger children and I would treat my Dad or Mum with quite a bit of contempt if I caught them at that contradiction. Maybe that's why Question Time is not on till quite late/early and isn't shown with kids' cartoons. Pollies' children cant' risk that their children might see it and ask 'awkward' questions.
Anyhow, honestly I wouldn't mind seeing Question Time being more civilised. I wonder what it would be like if people tried to conduct it in a more civilised manner. Would they have anything to say? I don't know that heckling adds that much to Question Time but is there much else to it and do they have much else? Maybe they would be stumped for words and end up walking out?
Most of the heckling seems to be name-calling, booing and yelling which seems quite inane to me, and childish, if there was some subtle mind and wordplay, clever humour and wit and interesting psychological manoeuvrings used, it would probably show some class. The fact that it seems to be "whose voice is louder" is a bit stupid. If they called it "REALITY TV: WHOSE VOICE IS LOUDER: WHO WILL LAST THE DISTANCE?" and played it with some judges' commentary over the top and a number to call for each politician, everyone would go on about how it was tacky and what a bunch of common no-talents they are. People probably still think that now, it's just the lack of a good phone no. and a catchy name and a "nasty judge" that keeps their mouths shut.
I wonder if they weren't heckling whether it's possible they would concentrate less on booing and trying to stave off booing, and more on trying to make intelligent, conscientious decisions about issues affecting the populace.
Or is that too much to ask?
Parents didn't always want to let their kids drink alcohol, preferring them to stay on the wholesome sugar-not-alcohol infused options as long as possible. At least it just kept you up all night watching cartoons and dancing rather than spewing in the toilet. You got fat rather than dizzy on overdoses of juice, Coca Cola, and really big home made chocolate milk shakes.
Anyhow, keeping them off the juice - I mean the alcohol, which for some reason is often nicknamed juice - for as long as possible, was desirable to many, but it also meant possibly getting put down by your kids.
Ms Dunlevy said that none wanted to experience the withering put down Frances Abbott gave her father, Tony Abbott:
“What would you know, you’re a lame, gay, churchie loser,” Frances Abbott told her Dad when he offered her some advice.
"Clearly she is a young woman who has learnt her parental handling skills from watching Question Time." - wrote Ms Dunlevy
There, I think, Ms Dunlevy has a good point. What the heck are pollies thinking at Question Time - except maybe a bit of nostalgia from school years when they got to call others name and brawl a lot. "Mr Speaker" is just another name for "teacher"?
Politicians often have families and children. They're often mouthing off about family values and lamenting the lack of courtesy and respect in the community and in certain generations. Then they go and put on a great display in Question Time when they blast all that away.
OK, yes, sometimes it's funny, in the same way reality TV is funny, but basically it's also hypocritical, so if you really think about it, it's a matter of 'do as I say, not as I do' or mainly 'Yes, I lament the loss of certain things in our community and I believe that those values should be there in the community, but not for me, not at this time, because I'm privileged.'
That probably isn't an easy one to explain to some younger children and I would treat my Dad or Mum with quite a bit of contempt if I caught them at that contradiction. Maybe that's why Question Time is not on till quite late/early and isn't shown with kids' cartoons. Pollies' children cant' risk that their children might see it and ask 'awkward' questions.
Anyhow, honestly I wouldn't mind seeing Question Time being more civilised. I wonder what it would be like if people tried to conduct it in a more civilised manner. Would they have anything to say? I don't know that heckling adds that much to Question Time but is there much else to it and do they have much else? Maybe they would be stumped for words and end up walking out?
Most of the heckling seems to be name-calling, booing and yelling which seems quite inane to me, and childish, if there was some subtle mind and wordplay, clever humour and wit and interesting psychological manoeuvrings used, it would probably show some class. The fact that it seems to be "whose voice is louder" is a bit stupid. If they called it "REALITY TV: WHOSE VOICE IS LOUDER: WHO WILL LAST THE DISTANCE?" and played it with some judges' commentary over the top and a number to call for each politician, everyone would go on about how it was tacky and what a bunch of common no-talents they are. People probably still think that now, it's just the lack of a good phone no. and a catchy name and a "nasty judge" that keeps their mouths shut.
I wonder if they weren't heckling whether it's possible they would concentrate less on booing and trying to stave off booing, and more on trying to make intelligent, conscientious decisions about issues affecting the populace.
Or is that too much to ask?
Saturday, 15 August 2009
6 tiny cups of full cream milk in every 3rd of a cup ...
Mum has this problem at work - there aren't many employees, and that makes it difficult to have milk at work without it all going to waste. Specially as Mum only likes a small amount of milk in her tea, once a day, and the creamier the milk the less the amount. If it's the skim or Shape milk she can take a tiny more but if it's cream just the slightest, and it's the cream that you can generally buy a bit more flexibly in terms of amounts.
Anyhow, Mum hit on this idea to buy a crateful of 200 individual serves of milk. You know, those tiny little serves of milk which are sealed at the top and are in plastic containers. You have to buy minimum 200 at a time. Mum agreed to share them with the one other employee at the work - the boss just wasn't interested. by Mum's calculation, if they each had one tea/coffee per day, that would mean they'd all be gone by the expiry date, except 40 serves, which could account for the few days they might have two cups. Or they could risk wasting 40 tiny little serves.
Mum has three weeks to go and she has brought home a HUGE number of little containers. Apparently the other colleague hasn't been keeping his end of the deal too well, the little containers were too fiddly so he just went off and bought himself a coffee with milk all the time and stopped using the containers. Mum's carted home a big supply of milk and ordered us to try to use it up before the use by date. if we have a coffee or a tea, please use a container. Please.
But there's so much there it's a tough ask and dad got in trouble the other night for sticking milk from the bottle into his tea instead of that from the container.
Mum made some little cakes today and topped it up with milk from containers.
I had a third glass of milk today at lunch just for the heck of it and stuck in 6 tiny little sachets. What the heck.
Maybe we'll get through it. It just takes determination.
Anyhow, Mum hit on this idea to buy a crateful of 200 individual serves of milk. You know, those tiny little serves of milk which are sealed at the top and are in plastic containers. You have to buy minimum 200 at a time. Mum agreed to share them with the one other employee at the work - the boss just wasn't interested. by Mum's calculation, if they each had one tea/coffee per day, that would mean they'd all be gone by the expiry date, except 40 serves, which could account for the few days they might have two cups. Or they could risk wasting 40 tiny little serves.
Mum has three weeks to go and she has brought home a HUGE number of little containers. Apparently the other colleague hasn't been keeping his end of the deal too well, the little containers were too fiddly so he just went off and bought himself a coffee with milk all the time and stopped using the containers. Mum's carted home a big supply of milk and ordered us to try to use it up before the use by date. if we have a coffee or a tea, please use a container. Please.
But there's so much there it's a tough ask and dad got in trouble the other night for sticking milk from the bottle into his tea instead of that from the container.
Mum made some little cakes today and topped it up with milk from containers.
I had a third glass of milk today at lunch just for the heck of it and stuck in 6 tiny little sachets. What the heck.
Maybe we'll get through it. It just takes determination.
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
What's a Mouse's Unlucky Number?
Recently, we've been having a bit of a Mousy problem at our house. It started with my sister spotting a mouse in the kitchen. My Mum is deathly afraid of anything she classes as pests (cockroaches, snakes, lizards, mice, me) and has been petrified ever since.
Dad invested in a small mousetrap which did bugger all until we decided to haul in the big guns, and invest in the bigger, the more expensive trap.
Then we caught Mouse #1. We've naturally been sealing everything in the pantry and we always wash every piece of crockery and cutlery thoroughly before we eat from it, in case micey paws have been scampering across it.
Soon later, though, someone said they saw Mouse #2, and my Dad set a trap, and again we caught the second mouse.
It wasn't till a while later someone thought they saw Mouse #3, and just the other night, we caught him. Fat bastard, too, I think we've been feeding him too well.
Mum has been growing more and more upset, but we assured her that should be the end of it, till we were eating dinner last night and my brother said, "Hey, I saw a mouse!"
No my brother is known for his practical jokes, but I turned to look anyhow and I saw a mouse too, making a dash for the pantry, cheeky thing! And just when we'd caught his mousy mate the day before!
So we're after Mouse #4 now, and my mother got all mad and wanted to buy some new pest control gadget but Dad wouldn't let her. It's called Pestrol but it claims to drive pests out from their hiding places. It doesn't say anything about killing them.
"What happens if we drive them out and they get driven into tyour bedroom, will you like that?" he asked. "At least we know they fall for the mousetrap!" ... even if it is slow!
Unfortuantely, the mousetrap is a slow way of killing them, and we can't figure out how they get inor whether they're breding or they are sitting around in a mousy colony somewhere laughing their heads off. I hope their heads are rolling off, it might work for us.
I asked my Dad what Number Mouse he thought would be the last, what his lucky number was. "Lucky Number 5" he said. I'm glad his lucky number wasn't 7, 198 289 or something.
Anyone got some better ideas of how to get rid of mice. I don't have anything against mice per se - just against mice in the kitchen (or indeed anywhere in the house).
Dad doesn't want to use poison in case it poisons the humans as well - they're in our pantry among food and food equipment.
Any other ideas, folk?
(By the way we are using mousetraps with cheese. It's a boring cliche but it seems mice fall for boring cliches just as much as we humans do.)
Dad invested in a small mousetrap which did bugger all until we decided to haul in the big guns, and invest in the bigger, the more expensive trap.
Then we caught Mouse #1. We've naturally been sealing everything in the pantry and we always wash every piece of crockery and cutlery thoroughly before we eat from it, in case micey paws have been scampering across it.
Soon later, though, someone said they saw Mouse #2, and my Dad set a trap, and again we caught the second mouse.
It wasn't till a while later someone thought they saw Mouse #3, and just the other night, we caught him. Fat bastard, too, I think we've been feeding him too well.
Mum has been growing more and more upset, but we assured her that should be the end of it, till we were eating dinner last night and my brother said, "Hey, I saw a mouse!"
No my brother is known for his practical jokes, but I turned to look anyhow and I saw a mouse too, making a dash for the pantry, cheeky thing! And just when we'd caught his mousy mate the day before!
So we're after Mouse #4 now, and my mother got all mad and wanted to buy some new pest control gadget but Dad wouldn't let her. It's called Pestrol but it claims to drive pests out from their hiding places. It doesn't say anything about killing them.
"What happens if we drive them out and they get driven into tyour bedroom, will you like that?" he asked. "At least we know they fall for the mousetrap!" ... even if it is slow!
Unfortuantely, the mousetrap is a slow way of killing them, and we can't figure out how they get inor whether they're breding or they are sitting around in a mousy colony somewhere laughing their heads off. I hope their heads are rolling off, it might work for us.
I asked my Dad what Number Mouse he thought would be the last, what his lucky number was. "Lucky Number 5" he said. I'm glad his lucky number wasn't 7, 198 289 or something.
Anyone got some better ideas of how to get rid of mice. I don't have anything against mice per se - just against mice in the kitchen (or indeed anywhere in the house).
Dad doesn't want to use poison in case it poisons the humans as well - they're in our pantry among food and food equipment.
Any other ideas, folk?
(By the way we are using mousetraps with cheese. It's a boring cliche but it seems mice fall for boring cliches just as much as we humans do.)
Sunday, 11 May 2008
I'm a Mug!
Over dinner, my mother pronounced her preference for fine bone china over other kinds of china. She wants to replace a mug she broke at work with one made of this elegant china.
"Why's it called bone china?" asked my brother.
"'Cause it's got bones in it," I explained. None of my family believed me at first, but it's true. I read up on it a bit more closely to ffind out how it's made. Bone china is a large percentage animal bone ash, as I reported back to my Dad.
"But why not HUMAN BONE ASH?" I mused.
"Good idea!" enthused father, who has taken to the idea of being cremated. "I'm a mug in life, why not make me a mug in death!"
I now present to you my services - or my FAMILY DINNER SERVICES.
Don't put granny in an urn - Make Granny into an urn!
Preserve the whole family in a classy dinnerware service. The Family Dinner Service, where you can choose the dinner service piece you'd like to be that represents YOUR personality! Would you like to be a fancy jug, an elegant platter, a smooth plate?
Be part of the family dinner ritual for decades after your death!
Or perhaps you'd like to be a little jam pot - not just be preserved but HOLD PRESERVES!
It's all up to you, at CREMATIONS and CERAMICS - We CARE for your WARE!
"Why's it called bone china?" asked my brother.
"'Cause it's got bones in it," I explained. None of my family believed me at first, but it's true. I read up on it a bit more closely to ffind out how it's made. Bone china is a large percentage animal bone ash, as I reported back to my Dad.
"But why not HUMAN BONE ASH?" I mused.
"Good idea!" enthused father, who has taken to the idea of being cremated. "I'm a mug in life, why not make me a mug in death!"
I now present to you my services - or my FAMILY DINNER SERVICES.
Don't put granny in an urn - Make Granny into an urn!
Preserve the whole family in a classy dinnerware service. The Family Dinner Service, where you can choose the dinner service piece you'd like to be that represents YOUR personality! Would you like to be a fancy jug, an elegant platter, a smooth plate?
Be part of the family dinner ritual for decades after your death!
Or perhaps you'd like to be a little jam pot - not just be preserved but HOLD PRESERVES!
It's all up to you, at CREMATIONS and CERAMICS - We CARE for your WARE!
Thursday, 10 April 2008
Kids - Who Needs 'Em?
Just about ... well ten letters to the Editor I read this morning were about how we desperately needed more babies in Australia because we have this huge aging population.
To me, the argument that we should rapidly give birth because people are living longer and we have this bulk of old people we can't support is a bit like Pauline Hanson's intellectual response to the economic problem "print more money".
Why the desperation? Everywhere I go, I see kids. It's not like we are in some country where kids are all dying off or we've become infertile, suddenly. It's just that we've got a lot of oldies too, sitting on our cash. But unfortunately kids, a lot of them, become oldies too one day, and this mass of babies we produce is going to become a whole mass of oldies some next generation can't figure out what to do with, and then the next generation will probably start hysterically procreating all over again - and putting a strain on diminishing natural resources. Yeah, we're really solving a problem.
Several obvious solutions pop into mind:
1. Mandatory Euthanasia for oldies, once they reach a certain age, to keep strain on population down
2. We put our energy not into babies but into adult clones or robots that can actually work right away, not into little babies who sit around bawling for food and toys for the first 5 years of their life.
3. We have fewer babies, and do it tough for the next several decades, while the aging population dies off naturally. People will have to go without luxuries or a few generations, but then the population will have got down to a number that's easier to handle for the natural environment. Then we start trying to concentrate on maximising brain power and multitasking, and using tools, rather than think about each human = certain amount of work, so if I want more produce, I need another baby.
Certainly, the robots idea appeals to me. Why do we think of producing babies of all things, as the solution to the oldies problem?
We have an economic burden, and people's first reaction is to want to create more of the same kind of creature - beings that wet the bed, need help getting dressed, can't go to work, have trouble reading, often are lacking in the hair and tooth department and are mainly good for getting posed next to during an election campaign if you are a politician? The only thing that babies do that oldies don't is shut up about the war.
We need a serious rethink over our Baby Bonus policy.
To me, the argument that we should rapidly give birth because people are living longer and we have this bulk of old people we can't support is a bit like Pauline Hanson's intellectual response to the economic problem "print more money".
Why the desperation? Everywhere I go, I see kids. It's not like we are in some country where kids are all dying off or we've become infertile, suddenly. It's just that we've got a lot of oldies too, sitting on our cash. But unfortunately kids, a lot of them, become oldies too one day, and this mass of babies we produce is going to become a whole mass of oldies some next generation can't figure out what to do with, and then the next generation will probably start hysterically procreating all over again - and putting a strain on diminishing natural resources. Yeah, we're really solving a problem.
Several obvious solutions pop into mind:
1. Mandatory Euthanasia for oldies, once they reach a certain age, to keep strain on population down
2. We put our energy not into babies but into adult clones or robots that can actually work right away, not into little babies who sit around bawling for food and toys for the first 5 years of their life.
3. We have fewer babies, and do it tough for the next several decades, while the aging population dies off naturally. People will have to go without luxuries or a few generations, but then the population will have got down to a number that's easier to handle for the natural environment. Then we start trying to concentrate on maximising brain power and multitasking, and using tools, rather than think about each human = certain amount of work, so if I want more produce, I need another baby.
Certainly, the robots idea appeals to me. Why do we think of producing babies of all things, as the solution to the oldies problem?
We have an economic burden, and people's first reaction is to want to create more of the same kind of creature - beings that wet the bed, need help getting dressed, can't go to work, have trouble reading, often are lacking in the hair and tooth department and are mainly good for getting posed next to during an election campaign if you are a politician? The only thing that babies do that oldies don't is shut up about the war.
We need a serious rethink over our Baby Bonus policy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
