Our US Trip: Part 5 - Las Vegas - Big and Gaudy.

Tuesday 7th December

Last morning in LA at Manhattan Beach - but missing the waffles for breakfast. Despite this, I'm starting to feel sure that I'm going to come back from home from the US very, very large indeed. A bit of a rush, preliminary farewells to Roz, as Paul is dropping her off at work on the way to the airport. Outside it is overcast and just a little muggy, with the never-ending haze of a normal LA day.

Traffic, despite travelling away from the city south towards Torrance, is terrible. The usual stuff: large break in traffic, accelerate to 60mph, hard break to a full stop, sit and wait, eventually creep on. I question Paul's constant use of the freeways, when we spend so much time on them stopped, surely it'd be quicker on the back streets. I figure afterwards it is his unfamiliarity with the city.

Eventually we arrive at Roz's work; we're seeing them again in less than two weeks, so only a temporary goodbye. Then it's the big turnaround north to get back to LAX. Surprisingly, the traffic back in is not too bad in comparison, though it is possibly the time of day, as it is getting on towards 9:30a. Into LAX, see off Paul, then to United check-in for our flight to Las Vegas.

Uggghh! United check-in. Are they the worst airline in the world? The lines for the check-in were not encouraging. Paul had clued us up about the "Self Check-in" and so we decided to give that a go. Insert a credit card for identification and away it went. Only it didn't. After a while a bloke there took pity on us and gave us a bit of a hand, and after recognising my credit card, a couple of minutes later it did work. So it happily clicked away and told us to wait for someone to complete the process by attaching the stickers to our bags. Only there was no one there to do it. There was a security guard there who frequently advised us and anyone who'd listen that he wasn't allowed to touch the bags at all — it seems United was short-staffed this morning and this guard could see a very humourous side to it all. Eventually one of the two women who were doing normal check-ins broke free and grabbed the bags of us and two or three other people who had self-checked in. Then the security guard picked up the backs and put them on the conveyor. "I'm not really allowed to do this you know." Now, I must admit, I also was seeing the funny side of United's problems. So, "Self Check-in" reduced the check-in time from (say) 30 minutes to about 30 minutes.

Through the bag screening. Ah, not so fast. It seems they didn't like the look of my cigarette lighter and my choice was... none. I could either not board the plane or surrender the lighter. Well maybe a heavily-weighted choice. Luckily it wasn't an engraved lighter or anything, worth about $30. I reckon one of the guard took a liking to it, and it is now lighting his disgusting little tailor-made cigarettes. Up till then my lighter had only either lit my hand-rolled cigs or cigars.

Neither of which I smoked the whole time I was in the US. Ah well.

So they let us go on.

Breakfast at Starbucks, I ordered something better than the "shot" of coffee I'd gotten at Peets, and Ali her normal Cap, and we toddled off to the embarkation area. I did a bit of shop-cruising and picked up a new wallet for $12 to replace my aging Jag one. With all the check-in and security kafuffle we didn't have all that long to wait to board our flight. The flight itself reminded me of my first times flying when I suffered from airsickness quite a bit. I had to actually tell Ali to leave me to myself because all her attention was making me feel more ill. Also driving us both bonkers were the people in the seats in front of us. Quite large people, they talked too loudly and chatted across the aisles and generally made quite a nuisance of themselves to everyone around us.

We landed — at Las Vegas, really only a short flight, and I'd managed to stave off the spewing part of the travel-sickness thankfully. Las Vegas is a bizarre place from the air. It looks like a city picked up from some other place and plonked in this wasteland. And the airport is much closer to the city than any other I'd been to. We exited to plane to see — poker machines inside the terminal. Our mate Ray was right in saying that you cannot walk a straight line in Vegas without walking through poker machines.

The chatty cabby was quite proud to show us billboards proclaiming the "Wonders from Downunder" or something similar. Both male and female version of strippers bought exclusively in from Australia. Hmmm, well I'm glad we're famous for something. He virtually gave us a guided tour of the Strip on the way to our hotel, "...and this one was owned by the same consortium who owns Treasure Island and was built in 1984, blah, blah..." His effort was appreciated though. I was quite frankly too goggle-eyed to pay much attention to the cabbie's spiel. Everything was huge. Hotels, statues, water features, electronic billboards, colours all clashing to compete for your attention and (presumably) the contents of your wallet. And it was also with the cabbie that we first heard those fateful letters "NFR."

It seems this week was the National Finals Rodeo, and there were cowboys everywhere. I mean real blokes walking around in all that wild and crazy cowboy gear as if it were normal to be walking down a city street and knocking people over with the size of your hat brim. And thinking that leather tassels are a great accessory for a shirt. Chaps! No really! There were cowboys everywhere. I have never seen anything like this before in my life.

After a little while we pull up outside Treasure Island, our casino/hotel/home for the next two nights. It is a three-spoked monstrosity, and you can't call it "Treasure Island" — it is "T.I." Check-in was painless. I sort of was expecting to be fighting off bellhops wanting to take our bags upstairs, but everyone was content to handle their own, as was I. The crowds just inside the hotel were simply amazing for the time of day, possibly 1p. The lineup outside the bistro were legendary. Cowboys, cowboys everywhere. So we toddled off on the crooked path to the elevators to our hotel room, dodging cowboys and poker machines with a quickly-learned dexterity.

By the time we'd settled into the room and changed and went back downstairs it was freezing cold and raining, so both tired and me still a little seedy from the flight, we went back upstairs to have a sandwich and a sleep. I took some time to wrestle with the in-room internet access via the television set to check/send emails. Aside from the shockingly bad resolution of the screen, the fingertip joystick on the IR keyboard kept on drifting down, down, so everytime I wanted to click on a button or on a site, it was force the joystick up and hold it up whilst simultaneously pressing the mouse button. Wow. After struggling with this for about 45 minutes and a short read of my book, I joined Ali for a sleep.

We finally emerged, showered, dressed and refreshed around 8:30p! What had happened to the day? The lobby downstairs was noisy, smoky and full of cowboys, so we retreated into the nightclub Tangerines for a couple of hideously-expensive drinks. From there we watched the twice-nightly Pirate show, which, although incredibly cheesy, was amazing for the ship which sails up the lake, and then is sunk by cannon shot — naturally all simulated, but the lake and the people diving into the freezing water were real. And the ship sinks into the lake! Very cool.

After this we made our first excursion outside into the cold night with the hundreds of other people who had watched the show, and we headed south down the strip. One thing which amazed both of us was the sheer size and space of the casinos. For most of the casinos, just to walk from the front door to the street is a huge effort, and I'm certain that it took almost 15 minutes just to walk past the Bellagio. Ali had to get a shot in at the Trevi fountain since she's been to the real thing.

So south along the strip, Mirage, Bellagio, etc. eventually all the way down to New York New York, and it was getting very late and we were very hungry. So we stopped into an Asian buffet to have possibly the worst mixed Asian food of my life. Huge amounts, but dry, tasteless, and spice-free. They even had a Mongolian BBQ set up, but I wasn't game to try it. One of the staff, this piratical-looking bloke with scary tattoos all over his forearms had obviously overheard our accents and came over to talk to us. At first his accent defeated us, but it turned out he was an Indonesian from Surabaya, and wanted to talk about things closer to his home. He had relatives in Darwin. His description of his life certainly furthered the impression of a pirate — we parted wishing him well.

We stopped in at Paris for a quick gamble, well Ali to have a gamble, me to watch. Inside the casino under the legs of the one-third size Eiffel Tower replica, it was like day, there were even clouds painted on the sky blue ceiling. Roz had previously mentioned this tactic of the casinos to fool you into not knowing what time of day it is, and I must say it was very effective. Ali lost about $10 on the "I Love Lucy" poker machine and then we went walking around to perve on the people playing. I was gob-smacked watching these people push bundles of $25 chips around the blackjack tables, and not even showing any interest in the game at all, aside from the mechanics necessary to ensure they weren't absolutely stuffing things up. All the croupiers (or whatever they are called) looked young and bored, and there seemed to be a lot more black people than white working there. Later on up the road at TI, it was the other way around. Do certain casinos have hiring policies?

Eventually we got sick of this and went back to our casino. Ali needed to lose some more money, and the bloke at the prize wheel was quite ready to take $20 off her. I was quite surprised how invisible one becomes when you are merely accompanying gamblers. Gamblers and staff only talk to gamblers, not to others. We stopped in at the "centre" bar for a quick drink. A lot of cowboys were there watching the NFR replays on the telly. I had a brief thought that it was weird that they would spend all day doing it and then go home and watch it, but Ali reminded me that we do exactly the same thing when we film one of our concerts! A couple of drinks later and we'd had enough, it was winding our way through the poker machine maze to show our room keys to the security card at the elevators to prove we weren't terrorists or whatever, and off to bed.

Another day of firsts in the good 'ol US of A.

Wild weather

OK, everyone in Sydney knows we had wild weather last night so this is not really news. We live in a high-rise in the next-to-top floor, and when the wind really blows you can even feel the building move. Creepy.

Last night, it was howling. Me, I had a beer before I went to sleep about midnight and slept like a baby till wakeup at 6:30a. Best night's sleep I've had in ages. While waiting for Al to finish in the shower I went through to the other end of the flat to see if anything had blown off the balcony during the night. We have two balconies, the small one facing the city and the large one facing west. The sliding door to the small one had blown open during the night.

Now I must admit I found it pretty amazing that the door had been blown open. The wind had somehow blown the door hard enough that the catch had disengaged and forced the door open two centimetres at right angles to the direction of the wind!

So I asked Al about this, along the lines of, "Did you hear anything in the night?" since I knew she'd had a restless night. "Now that you mention it..."

Apparently she'd heard a big sound and pressure change during the night, which was (obviously in retrospect) the door being blown open.

M: "Did you get up and check it?"

A: "No."

M: "Did you wake me to get up and check it?"

A: "Well I spoke to you."

M: "Did I answer?"

A: "No."

M: "Do you think that probably meant that I was asleep?"

A: "Oh. Yeah. But I wasn't really awake."

But you spoke to me!! Hmmmmmm. Chick logic, I guess. Hee hee.

So the carpet was a little wet this morning. Not a huge drama as it'll dry soon enough. It sort of reminds me of a mate at a previous work who'd gotten in trouble during the night because his girlfriend cuddled up to him while he was asleep and he'd pushed her away. But he was asleep!!

Mate I feel your pain. It is interesting that if you tell this story to chicks and blokes you get completely different reactions.

• "But he was alseep!" - invariant bloke reaction.


• "Oh she only wanted a cuddle. Are they still together?" - one of a host of chick reactions.

My comment that she was lucky that he hadn't farted on her wasn't taken in the same vein it was delivered. I mean he did have a reputation.

Those annoying telephone calls

Last night we got the usual dinner-time call, obviously someone selling something. I was a little annoyed and so when the person asked for "Mr or Mrs Ryan" I simply said "No!" and hung up. Technically I wasn't lying, there is no Mr Ryan and there is definitely no Mrs Ryan. I didn't wait to hear what they had to say — anyone who knows who we are also coincidentally knows our correct names — so I reasoned it couldn't be any good.

It got me thinking about how people respond to unwanted calls. This is a subject I've taken some interest in over time. All you have to remember is: you are in control. Once these people have interrupted your sitcom or Sunday night dinner, then the gloves are off, and you can play with them like a cat plays with a lame mouse. After all, they're only salespeople and they haven't got any feelings. And the bottom line is, if you take up their time and costs them more telephone calls, it hits them in the hip pocket. If enough people followed these guidelines, then evetually a bean-counter somewhere will realise that the cost of the calls and the salespeople far outweighs the sales they are bringing in, and the whole thing will fall in a heap.

1. The Hang-Up
I must admit this is my usual response. It is immediate, if less than satisfying. Accompanied by The Abuse though, it is a harsh and direct method of getting rid of them.

All you do is simply hang up on them. You don't have to be nice about it, or give them an explanation. I usually just say "No" or "No thanks" and hang up the phone. I must admit to lamenting the fact that I haven't got a phone that can be slammed down in exasperation. I have to meekly push the correct button.

And really this doesn't achieve anything. If the salesperson has had more than an hour's experience on the phone, then they've definitely gotten over the fact that people actually hang up on them. It just frees them for the next call.

2. The Argument
This is my least favourite method of dealing with these pests, probably because I am not a good thinker on my feet. If you get stumped though you might have to fallback on The Hangup. A lot of people try this one though, probably because they are more pious than myself.

In this method you attempt to reason with the person that it is an inappropriate time to call and that they are engaging in a less-than-reputable business. You'll probably get into a little discussion about when a more appropriate time to call is, and it can carry further on into who the person's supervisor is, where they get their call lists from, why is my name on it etc, etc. If you are the argumentative type, this is a good option for you, because you may actually be able to find out some of this information.

And it has an added benefit of keeping the other person talking to you, and not to other potential customers.

3. The Turnaround
This was the favourite of my previous partner, she used it every single time to her own amusement. I think the original idea came off a Seinfeld episode or something like that.

She would immediately tell the person that she was sorry she couldn't take the call right now, but if the salesperson gave her his home number, she would call back later. The salesperson would usually protest that he couldn't have people calling him at home, which would leave him open to an attack such as: "Well you bloody called me at home!!"

It's good for venting the anger, and it fairly clever, but most salespeople deal with it head-on now.

4. The Jealous Party
This was a favourite when I lived with my previous partner. When she took a nuisance call, I could usually tell within a couple of seconds that it wasn't an friend or something important, so I'd yell out, "Honey!! Is that your boyfriend again?? What's going on? I thought it was over." She would stutter out down the line in a frightened voice, "Look, I've really got to go." and hang up abruptly.

This generally didn't achieve anything except providing a source of amusement for both of us, and possibly for the person at the other end of the line. So everyone is happy.

By the way, don't be tempted to ad-lib in lines like, "I'm going to kill you," or anything like that unless you want a visit from the police domestic violence unit.

5. The Time-Waster
This is a particular favourite of mine, and has the added benefit of taking up the seller's time. This results in fewer sales for that person, ie, their bottom-line.

All that you really need to do is to patiently listen, or completely ignore, it is up to you — though if listening you can add a few "uh-huh's" and "yeh's" in during the spiel. Let them go through their whole spiel, try and drag them out as long as possible, if you can keep them going for ten minutes you're really going well. Saying something like, "Oh that sounds great," or asking for further information really helps things along. At the final hurdle, when they ask, "So can I sign you up?" you can emphatically say no.

If pushed, you can even admit that you were just wasting their time. This has the added benefit of getting them angry with you, which is a real source of amusement.

6. The Redirect
This is a favourite of a mate. He hands the phone off to one of his young children to speak to. The kid doesn't mind playing with the phone, and he reckons it's interesting to pick the phone up off the child a couple of minutes later to hear, "Can you give the phone to Daddy?" Hee hee.

7. The Prop
This was popularised by a food commercial. You need something which beeps near the phone. On the commercial they used a microwave oven timer. You just pretend that you are an answering machine and say your bit ("This is Mike. Please leave your message after the burp. BURP!"). They won't hang around.

Always good fun.

8. The Abuse
I have used this one in the streets of North Sydney when (every other day) I am accosted by people trying to get you to give to charities or just simply begging. When accompanied by The Hangup, it gets your point across.

You just swear volubly at the person on the other end of the line. It can be short and sweet ("P*ss off!") or long and inventive ("You cantankerous whore of a dung-beetle spawn, etc."). Eventually if you continue on for long enough, they will hang up without prompting.

I've got a feeling it might actually be illegal to do this, though, so I didn't tell you about it, right?

9. The Bad Connection
This is a great one for playing with them. Pretend you are on a mobile or bad connection or something. Interrupt them mid-spiel and ask them to repeat themselves. Eventually they will tire of this and offer to call back. Here you can use the same technique, which will definitely get rid of them for good, or change it for another. The more times they call, the more it costs them. The longer you speak to them, the more it costs them.

10. The Put-Off
In this you simply say it is a bad time to call, and give them a time when they can call back. Of course you give them a time when you won't be there and the answering machine can pick it up. You run the risk of them calling back the same time the following night (or whenever), but of course you can repeatedly go on putting them off and they will eventually give up.

11. Other
I'm sure there are other suggestions. If you wish to comment to add to this list, go right ahead, I'll keep it updated and eventuially move it over to my site: www.micsgarage.com. But you know me, nothing moves with great speed with me ;-)

Good morning

40th birthday today.

I don't really believe in portents.

While it is technically correct that I didn't get to sleep till 1am, I contend that it wasn't my birthday yet since I wasn't born until 4am. Or 4:21am as my mother reminded me when she rang me at 7:20am this morning. I'm not the ONLY one who thinks this is rather early to be calling someone up, surely.

But this morning, I not only had to contend with an early morning mother call, but I also belted the side of my hand against a picture frame, drawing blood there, and then cut myself shaving. And I've been having a horrid time at work since then.

No I don't belive in portents.

Nightmares

I have a terrible time when I stress from work. Generally I can't sleep as my mind is ticking over the problems. I'll wake in the middle of the night (like tonight!) with a solution that has occurred to me either in my sleep somehow, or has come to me when I've been lying there awake. In this case I've had an annoying technical problem the past three weeks and it's only just come to me now how to solve it. I've had to force myself to stay home and not go into work to start to fix it.

But now I'm awake. Hence neglected blog.

Thankfully though, it's not the same sleeplessness I have when I stress about non-work things. Money has been the big non-work thing stress recently. I know you're going to think I'm a bit crazy, but when I really, really stress, I have violent nightmares. They generally follow the same pattern where I murder some stranger for some unknown reason. Well, the reason is probably known at the time, but when I wake in fright, I can never remember the reason, I can only remember the horrid violence.

The other night's dream was a little bit novel, though. To set the scene: that evening Ali had two tickets that she'd gotten through school to one of the Sydney Kings vs. Brisbane Bullets semifinal playoff matches. [Basketball, just in case you were wondering.] Ali's school was playing another in a curtain-raiser game, and after watching that, we ventured out of the Entertainment Centre to find some dinner. Chinatown, naturally.

After some discussion, we decided to just grab some Chinese in one of the food courts. It was the worst Chinese food I have ever tasted in my life. Dry chicken, over-battered, extra-peppery. Yucko. Finish up, back to the basketball, Kings slaughtered Brisbane, very enjoyable, train home, sleep.

And that night, another nightmare. The murder: fatal stabbing with a chopstick.

Late night television and Maccas

Ali and I were watching the box late the other night, and a "community service announcement" comes on. Sponsored by McDonalds, of course. It's advising children how best to cross the road.

The next commercial comes on. Another community service announcement from some quasi-government mob. Child safety around the swimming pool.

Ali points out the (now) obvious anomaly here: what on earth are commercials lke this doing on at night when kids are in bed asleep? Well my kids usually are asleep. Why don't they put them on during the afternoon?

My first thought was that McDonalds must've committed some crime to have to perform community service like this. And aren't they getting out of it lightly by putting them on late at night when commercials are cheaper? Har-de-har-har.

My second thought was less charitable:the target market for these commercials can't be the children. It must be the adults awake at that hour. Are they trying to, under the banner of community service, trying to boost their brand name? Do people really think, "Oh I saw that commercial late last night telling children how to cross the road safely. Therefore McDonalds must be good. So I'll eat there." You've got to be kidding, that tactic surely doesn't work.

I can't think of any other explanation.

I've broken my McDonalds addiction. Since swearing myself off it late last year, (and our US trip aside, where we just had to try the Macca's) I've only had one late night cheeseburger. I reckon that's pretty good. And driving home after basketball now my car doesn't automatically stear towards the nearest McDonalds. There's three of them on my route. (route -- hee hee hee)

I've also seen Super Size Me (bloated Flash site alert) recently which further put the nail in the Maccas coffin for me. Although I reckoned the film was largely sensational [I mean come on, of course if you eat any fast food for three meals day you're going to adversely affect your health], watching someone do what he did just turned my stomach. Yucko. Arrggh, I can still picture the scene where he's spewing out the car window. Forcing yourself to eat food till you spew! Yucko again.

Our US Trip: Part 4 - Universal Studios.

Monday 6th December

Waffles for breakfast again! And once again, mine turned out perfectly while Ali's was substandard. Ho-ho-ho. It was even sunny outside. So looking forward to a great day

We got off to an earlier start than the day before, I think we were on the road by 9am. Paul had downloaded the instructions from the net, and to me it seemed a roundabout way to get there. A long way north, then east, then south. Struth! All around LA. But we did get there. During the trip, the weather had turned decidely cold, though thankfully it wasn't raining again. So it was out with the jackets again as we exited at Universal Studios. The parking was a lot less organised than Disney I noted.

As we exited the parking lot we were assaulted by LOUD music. There just wasn't any escape from it. We walked down through all the shops towards the entrance — for some reason it reminded me of Fox Studios in Sydney. Hee hee.

At the entrance, Paul and Roz took off to get photo IDs, as they were season ticket holders or something. Ali and I meandered on in, debated whether or not to have a shot taken with the Marilyn look-alike, decided no, looked at the schedule, and wandered down to the Blues Brothers Show, which was starting in a couple of minutes. I SMS's ("texted" for the rest of you) Paul to let him know where we'd be.

As it turned out, it was the "Christmas" Blues Brothers show, so it did nothing but annoy me. OK, Jake and Elwwod were reasonable facsimiles, and the car was pretty cool, but I think they only sung three numbers from the movie. And they slotted in this other little runty character who they said was Curtis's relative or something. I just couldn't get into it at all — I think Ali may have, though. Paul and Roz caught up with us at the end. they were itching to move on.

First up was Animal Planet. Lots of trained animals and I got to pat one of the doggies out the front. Reasonably entertaining. There was one bird that was trained to retrieve money off people in the crowd. I wondered whether it knew the difference between US currency or other currencies, or even Monopoly money. They used the standard comedy/magic show trick — take the money off the audience volunteer and then "disappear" it. "Oh yes here it is in a thousand pieces," <clap,clap,clap> you get the picture.

When that was over it was over to the Shrek 3D movie, which was very cool. Paul and Roz somehow managed to sit in seats that didn't work — they rock and move back and forth at various points in the movie — but ours did, so it was pretty good. And to top it off, when we exited the movie, Shrek and Fiona were just around the corner having photos taken. Fiona looked a little bored, but she kept in character and even asked me if Ali was"my true love." She didn't understand my colloquial reply I don't think, as she gave me a wierd look, one of those, "Oh my, this is a nutcase, I want to get out of here." I wasn't being nutty at all! Paul and Roz got a photo with Dora the Explorer. No, I don't know who these are either, but they were very popular with the Japanese tourists. In fact, in my notes I had it written down as "Travelling Nora" — almost!

Next stop was the "Van Helsing" ride, which was just like a dimly lit maze, and people jumped out at you. They were quite good, and two months later I still have the bruise yellowing from where Ali gripped my arm very, very hard. The scary things on the walls were just, you know, scary things on the walls, but when someone jumps out in front of you unexpectedly, it was very effective.

We checked the schedule and headed down to the start of the backlot tour. Either our schedule was wrong or they changed it, but one lot left just as we were leaving, with plenty of space on board. Perhaps I had my watch still set on Sydney time? Grrrr. Never mind, it was only a fifteen-minute wait for the next one, and by that time the crowds had piled up behind us. So off we go, looking through the streets of the backlot. The guy running the thing looked like an ex-actor, very well preserved in an LA sort of way. He got the poos a number of times during the ride with whoever was pressing the buttons for some of the special effects. Hee hee that was real funny.

The tour was alright, but I should've taken a notebook with me as I snapped about 150 shots of buildings and things, and have little hope of ever remembering what film or TV show it was used in. "This is the drug store from Man Loses His Pants," <snap, snap>, "and the coffee shop from Battleship Popcorn." <snap, snap>. They also had cool things like the street that flooded with rains — Paul got wet on this one, you can see the sequence here, here, here, here and here. (That'll teach you, putting me at the front of the log ride!) And of course we saw the Jaws set, and this set and that set and King Kong and the largest green-screen in the world and a collapsing bridge and a river that parts (hee hee — "We're at the river now would you part the river? Umm we're waiting here for the river to part, would you please part the river? Ummm yes we're still here can you part the river?" — hee hee. Gee he was getting upset). Anyway, about 45 minutes of tour and we were back where we started.

Time for lunch. This time a proper lunch because I wasn't feeling so queezy as yesteday. We stopped at a pizza cafe and had pizza and beer. I must say, pizza in the USA seems so very much different from pizza back home. It was all I could do to get a pizza with something more than just cheese and tomato sauce on it. OK, yes I agree things are starting to come off the rails a bit now with the "two-layers of thin crust enclosing thick cream cheese for a base" stuff that is going on now, but still, does it hurt you to put bit of capsicum on there (or even some bell peppers ;-) )? The beer was a Heineken I think served in a huge plastic cup. Roz declined the lunch due to her illness. A wise decision for her, since we all agreed it was the worst food we'd had so far.

After lunch was the bottom end of the Park: Backdraft, Revenge of the Mummy, Jurassic Park, Jurassic Park, Revenge of the Mummy, Revenge of the Mummy, then back up the top. With the nice weather, the crowds had grown, so we actually had to wait in line to see Backdraft. To tell the truth I wasn't that impressed with Backdraft — maybe I watch too much television? Jurassic Park was alright, but it was a long ride just to go down the big slope at the end, which was the best part. People were purchasing yellow plastic ponchos for the Jurassic Park ride; we still had our Disneyland ponchos with us, put these on and so looked a little out-of-place. And then we walked off the ride and went straight back in to do it again. The Revenge of the Mummy was voted the best ride by the others. I only had one stomach for it however, and because the lines were small, the other three went on it again, then later Paul and Roz went on it yet again. I cruised the gift shops.

After the long climb back up to the top of the park, we decided to sit in a faux-Mexican bar for a while drinking Margherita's waiting for the Waterworld exhibition to start. When it was getting close, we finished our drinks and headed up there. Paul recommended us to a particular area, ("No keep going, further to the back, further. Further!"), which I was grateful for when I saw the extras start up the show and begin by spraying people within easy reach with water. The show was quite entertaining, and for a lot of the crowd, wet, as they got sprayed with water from the jet skis. This was the largest crowd I'd seen all day, and it was starting to get dark. We had a brief stop off in the gift store to buy souvenirs before heading off — we really had to get going because we had to get from Universal, back to Manhattan Beach and then back into the Staples Centre (<cough, cough> I mean center, sorry) to see the NBA game that Paul had bought tickets for.

The trip home was long and painful. Traffic! Roz was ill and Ali was once again sleeping. Roz decided on the way that she wouldn't go to the game. But regardless, it was a quick turnaround after spending about an hour in the car from Universal to the Hotel. Only twenty-five minutes later we were looking for a parking spot near the Staples Centre.

The NBA. I've always wanted to go see an NBA game. Nothing to do with the fact that I play the game. It just seems a great big enjoyable spectacle. This game was enjoyable. Double-overtime. I didn't even know there was a concept like double-overtime. The LA Clippers defeated the Charlotte Bobcats 99 to 93. I must say the food at the Staples Centre was obsolute rubbish. We tried MacDonalds, a "Street" Dog, Nachos with Cheese Dip. The only thing which we enjoyed was the Dos Equus beer — I think this means "Two X's". What happened to the other two? Har-har.

We were in what is affectionately referred to as the "nosebleed section". I think there were about 10 empty rows behind us and then there was the roof. The players were bizarrely out-of-proportion stick figures. But we could see. It was well worth the money to see the game, and both Ali and I enjoyed it. I think Paul enjoyed it too, since he's a basketballer from wayback. The bloke sitting next to us slept through the whole game. He had his kids with him, but all they did was run riot in the place. We naturally barracked for the home team, despite the obvious draw to Charlotte (my eldest daughter's name). In the USA I guess you could say we routed for the team, but it's not an expression I would use. ;-)

Battling through the crowds, we got home around 11:45p. Another late night. Another great day!

Our US Trip: Part 3 - Disneyland.

Sunday 5th December

Now let me just say this about Disneyland: People have always said to me, "When you go to the States, you've just got to go to Disneyland!' And I've always been a bit cool to the idea; it's never really been one of my intentions to go there. Well maybe with the kids when they get older. I get motion sickness on the rides, and I've got no particular affection for Mickey Mouse, so I've always reckoned I'd give it a miss.

The previous night Paul had convinced me to go. I was plumping for Universal Studios; he reckoned we could still do that the following day. So I half-heartedly agreed. Anyway, Ali was keen, so that clinched the deal.

Sunday started out drizzly and cold - we wondered if we were going to go to Disneyland at all. We had intended to get up early, but 8am was the earliest any of us could manage. Hunting around for things, I realised that in the frenzy of moving rooms last night, my laptop bag was missing. It didn't have a laptop in it, it was just one of those "maximum carry-on" size bags. So, Paul and I went to reception and picked up a key to the old room and retrieved the bag that had been left behind. I don't want to name names, but when I asked the only other occupant of my bedroom if it had been completely cleared, and she said yes, I sort of thought that it had been completely cleared. Ah never mind.

Breakfast at the "Gatehouse", which was the dining room next to Reception. An introduction to Waffles made fresh. Mine always turned out perfectly, Ali's less so. While munching on our American breakfast (dare I say it: huge), the telly was showing scenes of congestion and snow falls on some of the California highways, and as we were watching, a real live car accident, right behind the on-location reporter. It almost looked staged.

A little bit of debate about whether it would be worthwhile in the rain and cold, but we eventually got underway. A quick stop-off at Fry's Electronics Store to get an extra memory card and battery for my camera. Prices of electronics are incredibly cheap in the States. The 256Mb card cost one-third of the price of a 128Mb card had three months previously in Sydney. Plus they have a "mail-in rebate" system, which gives you an additional discount off the price - you have to fill out the form and mail it to them. I presume they use your money in some high-return high-risk short-term investment in the time it takes to mail and return a cheque. And once again, the store was easily the largest electronics store I'd ever been in.

Paul stopped to get Petrol (or "Gas"). There are blokes waiting at the pumps, not working for the Petrol Station, just to "pump your gas", and presumably get a tip. We managed to avoid this, thankfully.

Finally, finally on our way, I-405 south, I-110 north, 91 east and we'll be there. Traffic notwithstanding, for it was chockers everywhere. Stop-start-stop-start, the traffic has a totally different rhythm to Sydney. In LA, it is either moving very fast or stopped completely. In Sydney, if it is stopped completely, then something is seriously wrong.

12:30 and we're at Disneyland. People eveywhere telling you which direction to head, even though there is only a handful of cars in the lot. "Cast-members" I found out later the employees are called (even though I've read Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom). It is very cold, and raining hard, and I am wondering what on earth we are doing there. Board the tram, and into California Adventure Park. The place is a sea of Blue Ponchos and to try and stay dry, we went into the Gift Shop to purchase ours.

First stop was the Tower of Terror Hotel, and looking at it I knew that I really didn't want to ride it. But ride it we did, and I managed not to throw up at the end. Next was the Muppets 3D, which was a new thing for me, a combination film and stage show with 3D glasses. It was very cool. After that we briefly stopped for a lunch, I was still feeling a bit queezy and so only went for fries but Ali went to whole Hot Dog. It was our first introduction to the curious sales tax system they have. You don't bother pre-calculating the bill and preparing your money, because the price on the displays are only indicative of what you have to pay. You always have to add on tax, which they helpfully calculate for you, but unhelpfully, don't tell you how much it is going to be before you buy it. Even though I hate the GST, I prefer to the GST. I asked Paul and Roz, they weren't even sure how much tax should be.

Next "ride" was A Bugs Life, which was interesting, the first film I've ever gotten wet in. Then on to the big roller coaster. The weather and the small number of people meant that we only had 10 minutes to wait for a seat, and I reckon that was the longest we had to wait all day. I was very queezy after this one, and resolved to stay off the nasty rides for the rest of the day. I was tempted to go again: the take-off was spectacular. Many of the remaining rides were closed because of the weather, but truthfully, I would've stayed off them anyway.

Paul had a "corn dog". I struggled to see where the corn was – it looked like a Pluto Pup to me (or a Dagwood Dog).

So on to the Main Park. "Here you leave today and enter the world of yesteday, tomorrow and fantasy." Cool!
Main Street USA was pumping because the truck with all the characters was just going past. Here it was busy, and still wet. We walked up the main road and got to Cinderella's Castle. It was so small that I had to make a comment about it, and Paul told me that it was exactly his reaction on first seeing it. There was a chicky selling ice-cream, so I bought a Mickey Cookies and Cream ice-cream sandwich. It was frozen solid, and I very nearly broke a tooth eating it. Alison snapped a good series of shots of this, here, here, here and here.

The first ride was the Jungle Boat Cruise. The chicky taking the cruise worked very hard with some very poor jokes to inspire some laughter out of us all, but hardly a reaction unfortunately. I think some of the jokes were as old as some of the plastic creatures looked. The next was the Indiana Jones ride. We walked straight onto the ride, through about 16 miles of fake tunnel. The ride itself was very cool, and not as sickening as I thought it would be. At first I thought some of the dummies were real people!

We did a brief gift shop pause. Paul had torn his flimsy poncho and wanted a new one. I think he managed to convince the salesgirl that the thing had self-destructed on first use.

Down to New Orleans. I took particular interest since (the real) New Orleans was one of our stops. And the Paddleboat in the lake was particularly impressive. I almost got lost finding the toilet, but managed to find the others again, waiting for me outside the Pirates Of The Carribean. When I think of Disneyland I think of the Pirates, so I was definitely looking forward to this one.


Once again, no wait, straight into the first boat, with that view of the beautiful twilight restaurant. I took a great many photos, some with flash, some without. Now either the announcements were broken, or we got onto a boat before the announcements were made, but I swear I didn't hear ANYTHING about not taking flash photos before or during the ride until we were in the long wait at the end to debark. As soon as I heard that I said "Oops," and turned to the others. They had not heard it either.

I was dark outside and I had to check my watch: 4:30!! I guess I was still in Daylight Savings mode. Onto the Haunted Mansion. Once again, the biggest wait was the trundle through the maze to get to the entrance. What a ride! And how do they get the ghosts to dance?!

Next up was the log ride. It was very wet. And being in the front of the log (in fact, I do recall that Paul and Roz insisted I go in the front), I had so much water pouring into my eyes from the rain and the ride that I didn't see the final plunge except as a vague, murky black drop.

We decided to break for dinner, and plonked exhausted into the Horseshoe Bar for a Chilli in Sourdough Bread Basket. A show was starting up in a couple of minutes so we decided to wait it out to let our jumpers and ponchos dry out. Bluegrass Band? Well I must say I wasn't expecting much. How wrong I was. Totally entertaining, talented blokes. They even donned wigs for a Beatles number "Ticket to Ride" if memory serves. Very humourous as well, and goes to prove that it doesn't really matter what you play as long as you can entertain. After this it was back on with the wet clothes and back into the park.

Up into Littles Land most of the rides were closed, the Dumbo ride, the Teacups, but Roz insisted we go on It's A Small World. The song had been modified for Christmas, so I was tortured for about twenty minutes with Christmas carols. I thought it interesting that they play to the stereotypes. The Australian dolls were obvious – one blond bloke with a surfboard next to a kangaroo, and a couple of aborigines. It made me wonder how many other of the nationalities I recognised from the stereotypes only.

One thing we noticed: the place was clean! In fact at one point, one bloke was actually sweeping the pooled water away. We decided to catch the last train once around the park from nearby, and ended up back where we started. We had a brief visit to see the little houses, and sure enough Minnie Mouse was home. I tore my poncho in a rush to get it off and have a photo with her. Minnie has great legs (for a mouse), but I suspect that she was just a young girl.


It was getting quite late now, and we still had Tomorrowland to go. Most of the rides were closed. "No, I didn't go on Space Mountain," to your next question. It was undergoing repairs for the season. About the only thing open was Innoventions, good for the kids, but a little boring for us. So back out onto Main Street and to do the obligatory gift-shopping. We arranged a half-hour limit with Paul and Roz and split up. When we met up with them again, they'd decided to buy Charlotte and Josephine some Disney jewellry, so it was back into the shops with them to decide on what to get. I just had to get a Mickey Mouse watch, as I've always wanted one. Paul got a matching one for Charlotte, so we can do the Daddy-Daughter thing.

The 9:30 fireworks display was cancelled because of the weather, so we left. A quick trip home to Thai leftovers for supper and an exhausted drop into bed.

Overall: Disneyland. A little bit cheesy in places, but the whole experience was overwhelmingly positive and enjoyable. Maybe the cheeziness became less noticeable to me over time. And it helped I guess that the crowds were small, as I have heard comments from other friends about how intolerable it is to wait 70 minutes in line for a three-minute ride. And bloody-hell we're in Disneyland of all places! Music played ALL the time. And the whole Cast-Member/Guest versus Staff/Customer thing was very novel.

Despite the weather, a thoroughly enjoyable day.

Our US Trip: Part 2 - Big News & The LA Tour.

Saturday 4th December (again)

A bit worn out but we are in LA. Like every other day I've ever spent in LA, it is hazy. Except today it is overcast as well. Not particularly cold, we are both still in our short sleeve shirts. LA airport hasn't changed one little bit either, with its general grubbiness and rabbit-warren pathways and corridors to get from point A to point B. Down a pathway, escalator down, corridor, escalator up, long corridor with bend in the middle and chick telling us which way to go even though we have no choice. Etc, etc, you get the picture.

Finally end up in the Customs & Immigration to get in a characteristically long queue to get "done". Being at the back of the aircraft didn't help either. Thankfully it was only our flight that had landed. After about 15 minutes, all the returning yanks had been processed, and they started shunting people from the "idiot visitors" queue over to the vacant "welcome home returning citizens" lines. Only those who had filled out their forms correctly though, and there was a lot of shouting from the Customs people about filling out the forms correctly. So we managed to get from the back of the queue to the front very quickly.

Actually, the lines were smaller than I've seen on occasions in Sydney, but I have taken two hours to get through C&I before at LAX. I shouldn't really complain.

I felt sorry for one family obviously from Africa (via Sydney?), all dressed in the beautiful traditional garb. They didn't understand or read much English, from the looks of them, and I knew they'd be a long time through the gates. They weren't sure, even when directed that way, that could use the "US Citizens" line, and were to-and-fro-ing with their four children.

Our customs bloke was "Mitchell" (or something similar), a largish, black, chatty and friendly bloke. We did the new digital fingerprint scan and face picture taken. Mitchell: "You guys married? No? Hey Michael, you better put a ring on her finger, she's got a beautiful smile." Neither of us wanted to explain the whole complex situation, so I simply laughed and smiled back. A very friendly bloke and nice introduction to the country. One could say: "A good ambassador" and they wouldn't be wrong.

So, off, out, 10 minutes maximum for bags. I thought it interesting that after all that time in the queues, we STILL had to wait 10 minutes for our bags to appear. Certainly better than last time through LA when some idiotfoolish person picked up my bags by mistake. Apparently he only discovered it when he went to check into his connecting flight many hours later. Hmmmm.

Paul and Roz waiting to see us out the exit. Great to see them as it has been at least a year. I'm looking at Paul, it's 8:30 in the morning and he looks ready for a drink. Oh boy, it's gonna be a long day.

Drove back to the hotel (on Sepulveda Boulevard) at Manhattan Beach. Paul and Roz needed some lunch and to get some supplies and so took off for a bit while we showered and settled into the Hotel. We ended up going up the road and getting some Mexican food. First time in my life I have ever had a soft-shell taco, and I was to discover that small in the US does not necessarily mean small. The "small" drink for instance, resembled the upper section of Centrepoint Tower, and this was a mistake I was to make many times during the trip ("Yes, I'll have the large drink. Oh my!"). Another interesting lesson I learned in the Mexican take-away was that obviously "Mike" with an Australian accent sounds like "Mark". I guess I'd have to do the old fake accent to get myself understood.

After lunch we swapped Christmas presents. Paul and roz forced this on us because Alison and I were discussing getting on the 'net and booking a visit to Madison Square Garden to see the Knicks play, as our New York hotel was quite close. Paul eventually said, "Errr, don't bother, here's your Christmas present, " and gave us tickets to the Clippers vs Bobcats game at LA Convention Center on the Monday night. We gave them the duty-free alcohol, packet of Tim Tams, etc that we'd brought across the Big Ocean for them. Then we hit the road in Paul's Taurus for a tour of LA.

Oh I should mention that Paul and Roz had some wonderfully fantastic BIG NEWS, but my mouth is closed, completely, trust me, until I've been authorised to spill it.

First stop was Manhattan Beach pier itself. Nice little pier over the water. Manicured beach, long but narrow, I can't think of a beach in Aus that it reminds me of. Filming on the pier (of course, it's LA) and all set up for the Christmas lighting ceremony that night. I couldn't believe the size of the seagulls. Like huge flying chickens. Surely Aussie seagulls must be termed "Seagullus Pygmius" in comparison to these huge bloody things. Here we also stopped at Peet's Coffee shop, where I discovered that a "shot" of expresso is really only a shot. No "long blacks" here. But the coffee was good, all 30mL of it.

Next stop was famous Venice Beach. I'd been here on a previous trip, but it was mid-week, mid-day, and the boardwalk was being renovated. So a totally different Venice Beach presented itself to us. The first issue was parking; we eventually found a spot for $7 in an alley just off the main drag. It was busy. Every freak in the world wanted to be on Venice Beach that afternoon. The first thing that Paul asked me was, "You haven't got your wallet in your back pocket, have you?" That sort of set the tone for the rest of the afternoon. We visited a public toilet about halfway along the beach. In fact Ali went into the cubicle ahead of me and immediately turned around and said, "I can't go in there." There was urine everywhere. No worries for me, but for a chick?... She eventually found another. The sun came out over the Pacific and it was beautiful, freaks or not.

It was here that I first saw the gobsmacking way that Americans (and my brother!) handle money. To me, brought up in a land where each denomination has it's own instantly recognisable colour, US money is all the same, same color (note spelling), same size, same pictures. Americans have this amazing (to me at least) ability to grab a wad of cash from their wallets, have a quick flick through and instantly sort $50s from $1s. I mean, struth, we don't even have a one dollar bill any more!

After the sights and sounds of Venice, we left and travelled along Santa Monica Boulevard for a long time into Hollywood looking for a vantage point to see the Sign. A couple of pictures here, struggling through LA traffic and we were off again, hunting around for Mulholland Drive. We briefly drove along it and then lost it, so it was back into Hollywood to see the sights. We parked in a parking station just off Hollywood Boulevard for $7, and dragged ourselves out to the star-studded street.

Mann's Chinese Theatre. Now I was sort of under the impression that it was "Mann's Chinese Theatre", but was a bit confused about the whole "Grauman's Chinese Theatre" thing. But it was undoubtedly the one - hands and feet in concrete everywhere, early ones in the middle, later ones on the outside. I was happy to see Sean Connery's there. And I got a big charge to see the ones from Blazing Saddles, Robert Langdon and Douglas Fairbanks. And yes, Douglas did have tiny feet. We paid the $1 "donation" to go inside, and spent about 10 mintues in the foyer of the theatre looking at the architecture and statues and stuff. I hesitate to call it a rip-off.

Up the street, past all the people trying to sell/scam stuff to see the huge statues next to the Kodak Theatre. Everything in the US is huge!

We left Hollywood behind and went star-home hunting, up Hillcrest Drive which it was rumoured was the home of Aaron Spelling. Walled off mansions, security signs, expensive cars in the drive, you get the picture. Back down and along Rodeo Drive so Ali could see the shops we wouldn't have time to look in. Boo-bloody-hoo! We didn't get out of the car, and Paul managed to snap some really dodgy shots out the front windscreen of the car. At the end of Rodeo was the Wilshire Hotel, with a huge bloody Christmas tree all lit up.

Then back to the Hotel. Traffic on the I405 was a nightmare, surprisingly for a Saturday evening. Roz was ill and Alison was asleep so Paul and I amused ourselves by discussing car sizes. Not only is architecture huge in the US, but cars are huge as well. Big "pickups" (we would call them a "ute"), Hummvees everywhere, stretch limos, just big, bloody cars. It's very scary to look out the window at 60 miles per hour and only see tyre about a metre away. But we managed to get home safe and sound.

Paul and I dropped the girls off and went up to the local supermarket to get some supplies and to hunt for dinner. "Ralph's Supermarket". This supermarket was bigger than any other supermarket I've been into in my entire life. Not just by a little bit, but huge. We got our supplies including some microbrew beers, then headed to to local Thai restaurant for some takeaway.

Back to the Hotel to discover that the girls where in the process of moving rooms as the air-con didn't work and it was freezing. After moving all our stuff up and down two flights, and inadvertently leaving one suitcase in the old room, we settled in for a yummy dinner and a couple of beers, a bit of watching the telly, and then bed.

Our US Trip: Part 1 - Flight to LA.

Saturday 4th December

Over 20 posts I'll be serialising Ali and my trip to the US, one post per day of travel. Of course since time warps between Australia and the United States, so the dates get kind of mucked up. Each one has the day's highlights in the title, regardless of however many places we visited or things we saw. My highlights do not necessarily correspond to Ali's highlights, but she's not the one writing the posts!.

We finally got our arses in gear and started packing on the Saturday morning. Flight wasn't till 4:30pm so it wasn't really an issue. Stuffing clothes and stuff into my little bag I wondered how we'd go when we came back with all the stuff that we'd be returning with. Presents for the girls, souvenirs, books, CDs. I'd been monitoring the weather in our target cities, so I had a few cold clothes, nothing as severe as a hat or gloves, though. Paul and Roz had promised to loan us their ski parkers for the majority of the trip. I'd remembered the Sydney winter to Toronto summer I'd done before, surely the weather change couldn't be all that bad.

The plan was in place, all flights and hotels booked, meetings arranged. Our flat was being looked after by Andy & Mandy, my car was at Christine's place. Everything.

Sydney airport was same as ever - busy. And it looked a little grubbier than normal. We were there early enough to walk almost straight up to the check-in line, however. Didn't bother with the usual browse through the airport stores and went through a near-deserted customs and immigration.

Immediately after the x-ray machine, this tiny little bloke in customs uniform pulls me aside. He's obviously picked me as a Swedish tourist or something. In a barely understandable accent (Indonesian, maybe?) he starts with, "Hello sir. Do you speak English?" I held back my first offensive response which was, "Yes. Do you?", and my second humourous response which was trying to fake him out with my high school German. Customs Officers tend not to have a decent sense of humour. Apparently I'd been randomly selected to undergo a compulsory "substance" examination. Compulsory as in, you've been selected, you can comply or not get on the plane. So he wipes his magic swab over my pockets and carry-on bag, then the inside of the bag, and after 5 minutes or so of wiping & beeping, sends me on my way.

Waiting around in Sydney airport is pretty boring, there are not that many shops. Well let me change that. There are plenty of shops, but I'm not sure I'm the type of bloke that would be buying incredibly expensive designer clothing or souvenir didgeridoos. I did look at a Wallabies jumper for Paul, but the cost ($149) scared me. Later I felt bad when Paul mentioned something to Roz about wanting a Wallabies jumper. Bugger!

The United Airlines flight was uneventful. I read and slept the whole way, doing my usual business-trip trick of setting my watch to destination time as soon as I got on the plane. The movies were old, and didn't tempt me in the slightest. One thing surprised me: 13 hours Sydney to Los Angeles and I somehow managed to get through the whole flight without a visit to the toilet. For my miniscule bladder, that is an effort, particularly as I'd had a couple of those dinky little red wine bottles.

With my reading, I managed to knock off the first half of 1421: The year China discoverd the world. Alright, the basic premise might be OK, but there are a LOT of long bows drawn in this book. I also got a really cool sketch done of the plane's wing out of my window. It was the only sketch I started during the whole trip. I am so glad I lugged my sketch gear half-way 'round the world.

United Airlines has gone downhill since my last business trip to Auckland two years ago. The coffee and tea wasn't the worst I've tasted, only the next-to-worst. It should have prepared me for the weeks ahead. Also, I'm not one of those demanding people or anything, but getting the attention of the steward/esses was hard. I think they've had that special training where they learn to ignore people whilst simultaneously looking busy and efficient. And one of the stewardesses had this annoying thing where when you said, "Thank you" to her, she would respond with, "Uh-huh." No, woman, you obviously didn't hear me. I said, "THANK YOU!"

13 hours. And to get woken at 3 in the morning to get fed. Ugghh!

It's amazing how sore you feel after that amount of time in one position. I suffer from being tall enough to never be comfortable in the narrow space between my seat and that in front. And if I'm uncomfortable, I can't sleep. Somehow I did manage to squeeze five or six hours of broken sleep, because I survived the trip way better than Alison. In fact, by the time we arrived in LA at 7:30 am on Saturday morning (huh! we left at 4:30pm), I felt quite normal for that time of morning. I guess this says more about me as a morning person, than about my ability to cope with jet lag.

Friendship

I got an email today from a long-time friend who I hadn't heard from for a number of months. I think the reason she hadn't written for a while is because she was embarassed about some issue that had cropped up between us a while back. She shouldn't have been, of course.

It got me thinking about what a friend of her category would have to do to completely ruin the friendship:

• Abuse physical, mental, sexual, etc against my children;
• Same sort of stuff against my girlfriend;
• Actions threatening relationship with my children or girlfriend;
• Genocide — well actually, I probably wouldn't be friends in the first place if I detected a tendency towards this;
• Voting for George W. Bush — pretty safe ground here as I have few friends in the United States.

Lots of other stuff could be here but we'd just be getting silly. I mean, you don't choose to be friends with someone if you think they are going to end up firing at random people with a high-powered rifle from an elevated position. Do you?

What happens when someone that you place in lifelong-friend category changes does go postal? Wow. That's pretty heavy. But luckily, I've just (in my head) gone through them all and I'm pretty safe.

I think.

Movie Theatre Madness

This morning I read this article about Greater Union now banning people from taking their own food and drink into the theatre. They can only take in the exorbitantly-priced fare bought from the theatre's own snack bar.

More than a little unfair, I reckon.

I wonder whether this ban on food and drink will extend to other theatre chains, or whether Greater Union will trial it and discard it. I wonder whether it will have ANY effect on their ticket sales and their takings.

Ali and I were discussing ridiculous movie prices the other day after seeing Meet The Fockers at Chatswood. The price of the two tickets was $31. We didn't buy any food or drink. Now if we waited 6 or 12 months, the bloody movie will be out on DVD, and we'll be able to buy it for much the same price, and view it in our own home with the big screen telly and (maybe soon) surround sound. Much more comfortable.

Or do people only buy DVDs that they have already seen? Do people go to the movies as an event rather than it being for entertainment?

I probably wouldn't buy the movie anyway. It was funny in parts, but not great. My personal opinion; don't let it hold you back from seeing it — on DVD, not at the theatre.

Sydney TV

I have written previously about Sydney television. Well, peripherally, anyway.

I'm not sure whether it is the summer doldrums or what, but there is absolutely NOTHING on television at the moment. When I say NOTHING in big capital letters like that, [aside of course from SBS news] I mean NOTHING. No-thing. Zero. Null. Nichts. Nada. Rien. Niets. Niente. Ничего.

They've even replaced 7pm Simpsons — which they originally replaced with Seinfeld, not too bad — with Becker. NOTHING.

When we were over in the US, I could almost always find something to watch. Probably something to do with the fact that there are over ten times as many people in the US as here, but nevertheless. On Sunday nights, they still have movies! What a treat! Not some re-run of a stupid Yank cop drama. What happened to the Sunday night movie, TV Network Programmers?

One benefit. I am getting heaps of work and reading done.

ISP problems, again

At work, we've now changed from using an ISP to host our email to our own mail server.

ISP's really do not know ANYTHING about customer service. I work in Telecommunications, and the chasm is wide, let me tell you. And for me to be able to say that coming from a Telecommunications perspective really damns ISPs.

Anyway, when asked by one of the staff members about the reason for the change, here is our Company Director's response. He is describing the responses he has received from the ISP when asking about problems:

• "No one else has reported that problem."
• "It is 4pm and we finish at 5pm - can we restore all of your email accounts that we just deleted in the morning ?"
• "If you don't pay your outstanding balance by Friday we will cut you off" — no outstanding balance of course.
• "We deleted your account as requested" — no you deleted the wrong account as specifically warned not to!
• "We have upgraded our internet connection - once your emails stop bouncing because we did a hot cutover of IP addresses, you will get a much fasterservice"
• "It would take a long time to tell you which emails we rejected in error — it would be easier for us if you just wrote to your contacts and asked them to resend any mail sent in the past 72 hours"
• "Yes we disabled your account - you were sending a lot of mail and might have been spamming." — Arggghhhhhhhh!

Thanks, John. Yep we're better off without them.

BTW: The ISP in question is RAM, now renamed Alchemy IT. In my opinion, your money would be better spent elsewhere. Seriously.