Tuesday, March 25, 2008
A Texan farmer goes to Australia for a vacation. There he meets an Aussie farmer and gets to talking. The Aussie shows off his big wheat field and the Texan says, "Oh! We have wheat fields that are at least twice as large!"
Next, they walk around the ranch a little and the Aussie shows off his herd of cattle. The Texan immediately says, "We have longhorns that are at least twice as large as your cows!"
Meanwhile, the conversation has almost died when the Texan sees a herd of kangaroos hopping through the field. He asks,
"And what are those?"
The Aussie asks with an incredulous look,
"Don't you have any grasshoppers in Texas?"
It's easy to stereotype. It's what the human mind does to make sense of the plethora of unavoidable information. But it's more important to break through stereotypes, shatter existing paradigms, and see things at more personal and magnified levels. I will never forget the human-sized grasshoppers, which Aussies call kangaroos.
Here's to the continuation of the conversation,
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Today is Easter Sunday in
Nick and I had been in
We arrived at the Carrumbin Wildlife Sanctuary, home to
Yes, that first picture is a real crocodile. He looks like he is smiling and has a lazy eye. “Hey buddy! Over here! Ha, yeah you, over here, there, crook-eye Carl! After seeing crocodiles, snakes, frogs, fish, and lizards we finally got to the Koala exhibit where I met Jordie. Love me some Koalas. Unfortunately, you cannot have one as a pet in
Next was the moment I have been waiting for! The three month wait was about to end! I was about to fulfill a promise to my Grandma Jean and ride in a kangaroo pouch! YES! THE KANGAROO FLATS!
All of the stories I heard re: attacking kangaroos turned out to be false. These little fellers were more like cats: lying around in the sun, eating, and caring less if you were there or not. Nonetheless, they didn’t mind to be fed the $3 Roo Food and took a liking to a head scratch. Much like Ryan Auer, come to think of it. “Grip thy skull,” he would often say. He also loves Wombats. Auer did you see the wombat pic?
Grandma, I must apologize. I tried to get in a pouch, but turns out they try and box and kick you when you attempt to enter. Kind of like the kangaroo from Looney Tunes. How did he always have those red boxing gloves? Sooooo wily. But it feels great to have experienced a kangaroo. I am now finally ready to head home. As the sub par George Bush once said some years ago aboard an aircraft carrier outside of
I headed into town and found a small Ma and Pa owned art store. “How do you paint guitars?” I inquired to the overweight and disgruntled Australian store keep. He attempted an answer, but neither of us knew what he was talking about. "Acrylic," I guessed? "Grumble, mate, grumble, cheers, yeah… that sounds about right." I purchased tubes of green, blue, orange, and white and two different sized paint brushes. Next stop, the drive through beer store! I decided to stroll through the drive-in utilizing the walking-through-the-late-night-Taco-Bell-drive-through style of the olden high school days at PCEP. I recall myself and Dave Meyn attempting to order a couple of Gordita meal deals on roller blades, only to be denied. Boy was that Dave Meyn graceful on them skates! Triple sow cow, Dave! Ohhhhhh! Toe lutz! Ahhh, the grace!
Equipped with the necessary tools, I headed back to my hostel room, turned on some James Taylor, and went to work. "Walk down that lonesome road/all by yourself/don't turn your head/back over your shoulder... If I had stopped to listen once or twice..."
I decided to go with an Australian inspired guitar paint job. The phrase “paint job” makes me laugh. I choose to give my guitar a PJ that represents the natural lay of the Australian land, without the cities or residents. Ocean to beach to bush to open desert with the Southern Cross shining high above the inland desert.
The guitar is named Frankie. Please ask Ahmad why I named the guitar Frankie. As for the golden dollar? I will explain that in a later blog entry, which will be inspired by a more recent visit to a Wildlife Sanctuary outside of the Gold Coast.
I will see a kangaroo… oh yes… I will see a kangaroo,
Sunday, March 16, 2008
I am currently typing from the Beach Motel bar, where no more than three months before, Dr. Dyck and I enjoyed on our
I flew into Gold Coast this morning at 8AM, picked up yet another white Toyota Corolla and headed out 25km past the shire and to Nimbin to buy souvenirs for my family. After purchasing my Father’s gift I headed to a… eh… clothing store? That is, if you can identify any shop in Nimbin as having only durable textile goods. Many items in Nimbin are perishable. And by that I mean smokeable.
“Hi there! I am trying to find a gift for my Mum and Sister. Any thoughts?”
She floats on over to the candle, incense, and bead embedded wall. She reaches into a wooden woven basket and pulls out a pair of Nimbin-marijuana-leaf-embedded underwear.
“Come on! Not cool! Really? How about something more necklace like?”
I left the store and headed to the next everything store.
“Yello! Hi there! I am trying to find a gift for my Mum and Sister. Whaddya think?”
Mary smiles at me, eyes dental floss-ish open, and walks over to a wall with assorted t-shirts, sun dresses, and bongs. She reaches up to a shelf and grabs a pair of marijuana-G-strings.
“Really? No way! What is going on here!”
Apparently, Oedipus Rex was a Nimbinian. Time to get out of high-dodge and head to
Whiskey is the Life of Man, I Drink it From an Ole Tin Can,