My ways or the Highways.

I’ve long been annoyed by those people who insist on adding an ‘s’ to the ends of Melway, Safeway and Myer. Mostly, I guess, because I just don’t understand why? Myer may have had one way-hey-hey back in the old days, but Safeway and Melway never have. And yet people insist on checking the Melways, buying groceries from Safeways, and getting overcharged at Myers. I guess we often talk about a Melway’s Reference, and so it feels natural to add the ‘s’, but that still doesn’t explain ‘Safeways’. Or why these people don’t also check the UBDs or go shopping at BI-LOs and Harvey Normans?

Well, whatever the case, the other day I tapped myers.com.au into Safari to see what would happen, and I received a pleasant surprise. Unlike with melways.com.au, there was no discreet, auto-forwarding to the correct address here; just a page featuring a large, wonderfully condescending message asking if perhaps you weren’t, “Looking for Myer?”


You can almost see the invisible ‘You dummy’ in parentheses after the question mark, especially for people used to seeing an invisible ‘s’ at the end of Myer. So, no auto-forward here, not even after a slight pause. The page just stares you down, and waits. It’s as though they want you to pause and reflect upon your error, to notice the five separate instances of 'Myer' on the page without an ‘s’, and then, when you’re ready, to move forward by your own action so as to reinforce the lesson you just learned.

It’s good to see the folks at Myer continuing in the spirit of Sidney Myer and trying to make the world a better place.

Autobots, recycle and roll out!

I didn't want to get excited about the upcoming live-action Transformers movie, especially when I heard Michael Bay was behind the wheel, but now that it's getting closer and the teaser is out, I find I can't help myself! I only recently rediscovered all the toys my sister packed away under my parent's house but could never remember exactly where, so I've got the fever. And I guess if a live-action version's going to be done, now's the time to do so as the technology is good enough to do it right. If only technology could enhance the script as well. I fear another Hollywood stinker crammed with delectable eye-candy, but come on Michael Bay, prove me wrong!

And speaking of technology being good enough to bring my childhood back to life, I was most excited to come across the new Ninja Turtle teaser! No goofy live-action lameness here; just wicked animation that looks like the original comics come to life. (Except for the differently coloured eye-masks, of course). Now, again, if only they can put the same effort into the script...

As an aside, isn’t it great the Boys in Marketing have seen this opportunity to exploit our nostalgic yearnings for the long, golden days of our childhood? Especially now we’ve started having children of our own, to whom we’ll eagerly peddle the heroes of our youth so we can bask in the sunshine one more time. We’ll be unofficial but highly enthusiastic sales staff, expounding the many virtues of a range of toys from a time (back when I were a lad) when they knew how to make REAL toys, not like this Bratz rubbish you’ve got today. Come over to the next aisle, Winter, and I’ll get you sorted. There’s even a wide range of female Transformers for you now, so how good is that? :-)

I wonder if we’re successful whether the cycle will kick off again in another 20 or so years?

Naomi bemoans so-called "friends of mine".

When those Beaconsfield miners got into a spot of trouble earlier this year, Today Tonight’s Naomi Robson was first, well, second... alright, last on the scene (but better late than never), ready to give her support and lend a hand where she could. Which, I might add, she did admirably, and those miners owe their lives to her ceaseless labour on their behalf. But fast forward five months and things are a little different. Now Naomi finds herself in a stew, and are Todd and Brant prepared to dig in and help her out? Apparently not! I’ve not seen or heard a thing of them. Stuck down another mine, or too busy roo shootin’, sorry, spending time with the family? I can't say for sure.

Man, you find out who your friends are when cannibals are trying to eat you, don’t you?

Arnie travels to Heaven and Brazil.

In a previous post I made reference to one of Arnold Schwarzenegger's Favourite Things (to do in front of 5000 people), namely, 'The Pump'. Can you believe how much he is in Heaven? For the benefit of those who hadn't seen his classic moofie, 'Pumping Iron', I linked to a page of quotes to provide the context. If only I'd waited a month I could have linked directly to YouTube. Aah, YouTube: is there anything it can't do?

While you're there, do something educational and look up Arnie's informative travelogue, 'Carnival in Rio'. Iz funtarztic. You will luff it.

Saúde!

Brocky turns off the ignition.

BREAKING NEWS! And now Brocky’s DEAD too! Not Brocky?! The World’s Greatest Race Car Driver and Proud Proponent of Mobil Oils (even though he couldn’t look you in the eye when praising it).

Don Chipp, Steve Irwin, Brocky and... that guy who wrote Storm Boy... all in a week! I can only sit back in stunned silence and ask, “What’s going on?” and “Will that nasty Germ hack into Brocky before he’s even in the ground as well?!” He did plunder the earth's precious resources racing cars, after all.

We’ll just have to wait and see.

UPDATE: Who needs the old Germ to bash Brocky before his body's even cooled when his ex-wife is happy enough to step in with a shovel herself! She was on TV within hours of the accident saying Brocky had always put racing first and that the kids had really felt that. She didn't say she was glad he was dead, but you got the feeling. Even more surprising were Brocky's brothers who were talking about him in a such a composed and matter of fact way that you would have thought he'd only broken a leg! Sure, Brocky was no Steve Irwin, but I've been surprised at how 'meh' everyone, even including the media, have been about it. Maybe it's all just been too much, too fast?

Like wings on a car.

Cars have come to grief…
Devenish Road, Boronia,
the West Gate, Southbank…
and on Dudley Street
and the Wurundjeri Way
in chilly Docklands

A traffic report in haiku by everyone’s favourite high-brow traffic reporter, Hilary Harper. Well, it’s good to know I wasn’t just imagining things.

In a Green Guide interview the other week, Hilary made her philosophical approach to the traffic clear: “I guess I try to make the traffic a little less boring than it could otherwise be, try to put in some interesting language and have a bit of fun with it where appropriate. I think traffic is such a large part of the way people experience Melbourne as a city. It’s something people drive through every day and it’s part of their day, so if I can make a fairly pragmatic and useful service on the part of 774 a bit more fun and a bit more interesting, that’s great.”

I guess I could understand that if I could see the benefit. I mean, where will the madness end? The Talking Clock is very boring. All it does is give you useful information. What a wasted opportunity. Perhaps it should start using Latin? "Procul tertius plaga, is ero II:XXX et X secundus." Taking the report to Fiji for some fun in the sun is just asking for trouble as there’s every chance people will be so wowed by your cleverness that they’ll take in none of the content. “Brilliant! Hilary’s done it again. She just reported the traffic in iambic pentameter!” “Sure, great; how’s the flow on the Eastern?” … “Um… you know, I’m not quite sure… iambic pentameter?”

Anyway, at least I know it’s not just me. And yes, I can move on now, thanks for asking.

CRIKEY!

Breaking news! Steve Irwin is DEAD! Stabbed by a stingray and dead as a Deepwater Cisco. I’ve been called, emailed, Instant Messaged, RSS'd and even SMS’d from New Zealand. The world's flapping its arms! That plucky little guy who, despite wise advice to the contrary, would always smile at a crocodile... THE WORLD IS IN SHOCK.

It's good to be the Dad.

My first Fathers' Day today. As the subject, I mean; not just the giver of gifts and maker of cards. Speaking of which, Winter somehow managed to get online and find her way to Amazon where she purchased Season 1 of 'Dr Katz: Professional Therapist' on DVD for me! Incredible child. They grow up so fast.

Happy 100th Post.

And so it's come to this: a Commas Clip Show. Seems like it was only 340 days ago when I first paused on the Path and put finger to keyboard; and now I’m 100 posts old. Let's stroll, shall we?

Remember that very first post where I described my struggle to find a username that wasn’t already taken, and where I used the word ‘zeitgeist’? Heady days, full of potential, full of promise. It was pretty clear right from the start that the Big Issues would be tackled hard and taken down harder.

Hard to believe my long pursuit of the perfect iTunes artwork combination began way back in my third post.

Or that the Comments section wasn't filled to overflowing with suggestions for additional humorous Brand and Country of Manufacture combinations.

And who could forget the Concise History of the Annual Christmas Stolp? Not me, I was there!

Or, finally, all those jittery concerns in the lead up to the arrival of Winter? Which I think we can say were unfounded. Although, if you're still unsure, cop this:


Well, that’s enough misty-eyed, hyper-self-indulgence from me. Thanks for your company. See you on the other side of 200. :-)

In the Loop.

Alright look, it is possible for me to reflect on things that have no connection at all to Connex, but things of note just keep on happening. Last Friday some moron in an ultimately successful attempt to evade Connex Valued Patron Service Executive Enforcers leaped from the platform at Melbourne Central and bolted up the City Loop tunnel towards Flagstaff. As you would expect, the system was immediately shut down and a train load of Authorised Customer Care Representative Executives advanced slowly up the tunnel in pursuit.

As the drama unfolded, I was at home listening to the radio and eating my cereal. A Connex spokesperson came on to advise all travellers on the Epping line of a half hour delay to all services. A half hour! Looks like I’ll be late to work today. I weighed up whether to just leave later in the hope of avoiding the packed trains and slow-moving queue that inevitably develops when services are delayed. I figure an uninterrupted train that leaves later may well get me to work at the same time as the stop-start-stop-start one that leaves now?

But it started to seem too much like a maths problem (with a train full of people holding torches leaving the station at 9am heading south at lightspeed, etc) so I decided to brave the crowds and head off anyway. Only to discover a distinct lack of crowds. And delays. My regular train was bang on time and, if anything, there were fewer people on-board than normal, resulting in one of the most pleasant trips to work of the year. Alley-oop, Connex. Thanks for the assist. I wish you’d run interference like that for me every day.

As we barrelled through the Loop towards Melbourne Central I realised I hadn’t received any message from Connex informing me of the supposed delay, despite a “half-hour” falling well over the lounge room of their fine print. I guess that means there never was a half-hour delay, and the SMS system has shown it can be dependable; oh me of little faith. Dependable, unlike the Connex spokeswoman who I assume has yet to subscribe to Ol’ Reliable as she was clearly not in the loop.

UPDATE (31/08): Woah there. Did I say ‘dependable? Did I? Maybe I spoke too soon? I received another text message from Connex this morning. It wasn’t to tell me my train was delayed (which it was, but only by 9 minutes so stop your whining), but to let me know my train would not be running through the City Loop. As I was already on my train and halfway to the City Loop, there was not much I could do about that, but I appreciated being kept up-to-the-minute all the same. Although Connex must have been so busy frantically firing off messages to their valued customers that they forgot to let the driver know. Not only did he not make an announcement for the benefit of those luddite non-subscribers, but once past Jolimont he rolled right on through into the City Loop.

Now I’m more confused than ever.

A Grate Read.

I just happened to pick up and glance through the ‘2006 Books Alive Great Read Guide’ which claims to contain “50 books so good, everyone will want to read them.” Ok, well let’s test that by selecting a sample at random… hmm, what about this one on page 12: ‘The Omega Scroll’ by Adrian d’Hage?

'A DYNAMITE ADVENTURE ABOUT THE VATICAN’S BIGGEST FEAR'

“A ruthless cardinal who’ll stop at nothing to become the next pope, missing nuclear suitcase bombs, an ancient scroll with a terrible warning for humanity – this book has it all.”

Woah! It certainly does; including the plots of at least four other books! The only thing I can think of that’s missing is a ‘dangerous and torrid love affair’. And ninjas, of course. Every story needs ninjas. The blurb continues:

”As a journalist, an archaeologist and Vatican investigators race against time to unlock the secrets of a Dead Sea Scroll that has remained hidden for 2000 years, a CIA agent attempts to track down the nuclear devices. The stakes couldn’t be higher.”

And the connection between those two plot threads couldn’t be more unclear. Are they actually related? Or are they just too good not to have crammed in there? Talk about write-by-numbers. What a contemptible pool of dribble. Kate and I sat down and tried to top Mr d’Hage for ridiculousness, but soon gave up realising it was a near-impossible task. It’s not easy to parody something that already is one.

Who’d even consider reading this rubbish?!

"For fans of The Da Vinci Code, this is a must-read book."

Aah. Of course. Sorry, Books Alive, but your credibility and that of your "independent panel of book industry experts" is as flimsy as The Omega Scroll’s disconnected plots. No amount of stirring endorsements from Aussie Steve Waugh or TV's Andrew Daddo will get me reading this crap. See you in 2007.

Great expectations.

It’s probably a bit late to start watching Charles Dickens' Bleak House now, (that's Charles Dickens with one ‘K’, not the well-known Dutch author), as the final episode was just shown, but if you have the means, I highly recommend picking it up on DVD; if only to see what Wedge looks like when he’s 59. Although I guess that link'll do just as well. Certainly cheaper. Although not as satisfying as Bleak House was brilliant. Such an amazing cast and so many incredible performances. I'll be saying "Oh m'bones! Shake me up, Judy," for years to come. For which, Kate, I apologise in advance. :-)

Vanstone proposes new deterrence strategy.

Immigration Minister Amanda Vanstone was on radio the other day, defending her stance on immigration. “We literally bent over backwards to mirror what would be the case offshore that is the case in Australia,” she said.

Well, while that may or may not be true, please, Minister, that’s really not an image I want in my head! It'd be hard work excising that one. You're on my list!

On a more serious note, I appreciated a letter in The Age from the other week when the Senate was voting on the Migration Amendment Bill:

Petro, Russell and Judy were described in Parliament as being in the gutter. At least they climbed out of the sewer. Dave Gill, Don Valley.

Island in the Sun.

Well, I’m back. And it wasn’t quite the experiment in deprivation I expected. Not only did this island in the sun have internet access (albeit charged at $8.50 per 15 minutes, but access nonetheless), it also had mobile reception (although my phone only seemed to work when hovering over my bedside table). The only thing it lacked was my fam and, let’s be honest, that was always the real challenge anyway. :-)

So while I never touched the internet, nor really used my phone, it wasn’t much of an experiment because I could have if I’d really wanted to. Although not with my mobile because as I didn’t expect to have the phone on I didn’t take my charger (it’s just one more thing to lose) and my battery went flat two days in.

So, no new insights into the human condition then… how was the weather? Aah, Fiji. Beautiful showers one day…


…perfect tropical storm the next.


Despite my concerns, the weather was wonderful, with two bonus days of continuous rain and a temperature that hovered around that pleasant point where either shorts or trousers will do. Paradise. For me, at least. Listening to my fellow islanders, you’d think each drop of rain was a sliver of bamboo pushed up under a fingernail. No appreciation for the beauty and pleasure of rain. Which is a shame; it’s so limiting to tie your capacity for enjoyment solely to the sun. It’s not like there wasn’t anything else to do. But no, people just sat around with their fingers crossed, hoping for the best, and assuming I was being sarcastic when I’d reply that I was quite enjoying the weather. Strange man. I don’t understand what’s so strange about liking rain?

And speaking of strange: at dinner on the final night a group of five seated to my left were having a none too discreet conversation concerning me that I couldn’t help but overhear, even over the sound of the performing band. There’s nothing like being seated next to a group of people for an entire meal to help you fade into the wallpaper, I guess? My mealtime banter must have been scintillating! A middle-aged woman from the Gold Coast who was seated between two couples either side was asking if they’d heard the name of my daughter? “It’s Winter,” she told them. “It’s not that I don’t really not like the name, but it seems sort of negative to me,” she said, employing a triple negative whammy of her own. “I like Summer as a name, but Winter seems strange.”

Sigh. Boring. I think I can safely assume that to her ‘winter’ means grey skies, frigid mornings, cold bones, frozen feet, endless rain and dead trees, whereas to me it means roaring fires, hot mugs of tea, thick woollen socks, walking in warm and heavy coats through the crisp morning air and, best of all, being tucked up in a toasty bed with a good book while steady rain pelts on the window outside. Winter doesn’t mean ‘death’ to me; it’s life lying dormant, ready for renewal, eager to explode. So if you’re looking for something that’s negative, you really need look no further than a mirror.

Back in 7.

Well, nothing lasts forever. We've had a golden run of 15 degree days here in Melbourne, but now I'm off to Fiji for Ahab & Naomi's wedding, and the weather sites tell me to expect high 20s. Glory, it's an old-fashioned heatwave. But it's ok because I'm only gone for a week and will be back in no time to catch the tail-end of the best winter we've had in a long time. Although a bit of rain would've been nice.

Leaving the family at home to enjoy the central heating will of course be difficult, but the real challenge will come from having absolutely no internet access for the longest time since I first plugged into the... big binary road thingy oh so many years ago. It's like unplugging from the Matrix. I'll be like Agent Smith when the data stream disappears. The music will fade and die! I'll be like... that guy in... some movie I can't quite recall, who's spent his whole life plugged into something and then the soundtrack swirls as he disconnects for the first time. Probably for love. JJ, can you help me out here? So, no internet for a week! What might happen? Can I possibly survive? I'll know soon enough. It's like I'm about to undergo an experiment, like... oh no! Like Big Brother, I guess. I'm off to an isolated location with a bunch of people, most of whom I don't know, where I'll be denied my daily bread of family, mobile reception and the internet. Argh! It's Big Brother: Fijian Island. The horror.

So enjoy your time to yourself, be good while I'm gone, and see you again shortly.

Elias Jian-Li arrives.

Welcome to Elias Jian-Li, Winter's first little friend, born Tuesday, August 1st, 2006. 13 days late, but worth the wait, and with a shock of black hair the envy of newborns everywhere. Winter's looking on wondering why she got stuck with such a boring bloodline, and can't be a Malaysian-American Australian as well! :-)

Winter of content.

Alright! Just completed the latest Census form, and I did it online! Woooo! The Future is Now! It’s swerved on up the Information Superhighway’s off-ramp and it’s here in your living room RIGHT NOW so get on-board or get run over!! ‘Information Superhighway’. Remember that? There’s a phrase I’m glad has fallen into disuse. Can’t remember the last time I heard someone use it. In a non-sarcastic way, at least.

So yeah, Census 2006. Pretty exciting. It’s history in the making. Millions of people cooperating to capture a moment in time for future generations to look back upon and discover that yes, I did have internet access in my home in August 2006. The other appeal for me is that it’s a form to fill out. I love filling out forms. There’s something very satisfying about it. I’m not quite sure what it is.

So did everyone tick the release this information in 99 years box? Or did you feel Big Brother breathing a little too hard down your neck? Did you mark down your religion as ‘Jedi Knight’? If yes, are you a stroker? Wait, don’t answer: I already know. :-)

The best part of this Census was filling in Winter’s details. She’s really a real person now! Are those last two sentences enough of an excuse to post another photo of her? Of course it is.


Quick update, if you’re interested: Happiest baby alive. Sleeping well, feeding well and growing faster than the number of Jedi in Australia. Much faster. She’s trying to talk and coming out with all sorts of weird squawks. Sometimes I’m on the phone to Kate and it sounds like there’s a frantic bird trapped inside attacking her. Winter’s also trying to laugh. It never occurred to me that we need to learn how to laugh! She takes these large gulps of air and makes a funny noise, but mostly ends up with a fit of hiccups. Maybe we’ll have to get David Brent to give her a few pointers? Come on, trust me. Ay? Yeah? Hoohoohoo.

UPDATE: ARGH! The Jedi hilarity has mutated into a tool for social activism! Last night I was fenced into a corner of the tram by two very serious and very earnest young women who were talking with pride about listing their religion on the Census as 'Greenie'. "It felt so good doing that because, like, if enough people do it, the Government will have to pay attention." Yeah, good luck with that. Let me know how it works out.

Go figure.

So apparently a couple of the mouth-breathers on Big Brother were having a discussion about why the game show they were on had the name it did. ‘Big Brother’ didn’t seem right. Wouldn’t ‘Father Figure’ be a better name?

Gretel, of course, smirked it for all it was worth, presenting them with their own copies of ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ once they were evicted. I didn’t see the presentation, but I can just imagine the smarm. “Here you go, dummies. Go and read a book and get yourself an education,” like she’s so much better than they are. Sure, they should have at least a vague awareness of where Big Brother comes from, but I reckon the greater sin is committed by Gretel. She’s (apparently) read the book, knows who Big Brother is, and yet is still comfortable using the name for her fluffy, vacuous, trivial bit of nothing of a game show. That's what's really tragic. George Orwell's spinning so fast he could power a small city.

Microsoft tackles population control.

Microsoft has been accused of a lot of things over the years, but never direct child abuse. (Unless you consider children using Windows as a form of abuse?) But now, in response to new business moves by Microsoft, Rob Glaser, the unhappy CEO of RealNetworks, has come right out and declared, "We think this a case where our technology competitors, in this case specifically Microsoft, have literally thrown the baby out with the bath water." Glory! Sounds like Uncle Bill needs to forget his charity work and get back behind the keyboard at Redmond because things are flying out of control!

And thanks, Rob, for a real-life cracker to add to my collection. :-)

More delays.

Connex is my new best friend. Sure, sure, they haven’t improved their trains’ punctuality or lowered the contact point for their SMS delay service, but they did send me free stuff! And who can resist the wooing power of free stuff?!


I really love the imagery for their current campaign. I think it was a bold move by whoever pitched the concept, and an even bolder one by whoever approved it. I like that it avoids the common, safe and boring diverse blend of ages and ethnicities, with equal representation of males and females, easily and successfully using [insert your product here], and goes instead for giant, rampaging beavers, guinea pigs, Venus fly-traps and fleets of flying saucers all wreaking havoc.

“Giant, rampaging what?! Our valued customers can’t relate to a giant beaver! No, no; we need large, glossy, full-colour prints of a diverse blend of ages and races, with equal representation of men and women, of course, all being successfully engaged and assisted by one of our many, friendly Connex Service Executives. Now that’s the ticket! Sign off on that one, beaver boy.”


I thought some sample images might go well with this post, but rather than try and track down the right number of bus shelters and billboards dotted across town, I thought I’d go right to the source. A quick email to Connex got an even quicker reply! Christie told me she had “a spare copy of each poster” if I would like them, and that I could go in to pick them up, or she could even post them directly to me if I’d like! The next day, there they were. They should put Christie in charge of the SMS service. So 10 out of 10 for customer service, Connex. (Even if the “set” did end up being only two posters, not the expected five. But I no complain).


So, attention Connex, my next irritable rant has been delayed, and is now expected in… oh, I don’t know. Some time later. I apologise for any hurt feelings I’ve caused.

A new head Bobs into town.

You know, I thought Beck’s head on that Dandy set of shoulders was as good a match as you’d be likely to find, but now I’m not so sure. Bobby Timmons has just swaggered into town, you see, looking for a place to lay his head, and I thinks those Dandy shoulders might suit him just fine.

Actually, I say ‘swaggered’ into town, but it was more of a squeeze, like toothpaste from a tube. Or a caterpillar from a cocoon. Indeed, he must’ve been stuck inside Radiohead for some time because the 'Bends' guy looks quite relieved to have him out.


So Bobby’s on the screen, but so far he’s yet to make his move. I can only guess he’s getting the lay of the land, measuring the pixels, seeing what kind of a hold Beck has on those well-known, bohemian shoulders. As you can see below, Bobby’s out in force down south, looking north with a determined gaze.


And Beck’s clearly concerned. He’s making a show of staying close, flitting around like a peacock if a peacock was to flit, but when Bobby flips in, Beck flips right the hell out as soon as iTunes’ll let him.


So this is getting pretty exciting, yeah?

Hello?

[Crickets chirp. Somewhere a wolf howls.]

Well anyway, the tension is building, but will the build-up be worth it? Will Bobby’s head prove to be a better match than Beck’s? Who can say, who can predict? Don’t worry, don’t worry; you will get to see for yourselves. I’m like a deer hunter, watching, lying in wait, ready to snap off a shot when the target springs into view. It’s only a matter of time…

UPDATE, BY REQUEST: Coming to you live from Apostrophe Garden in wintery Melbourne, Australia, it’s all the hot grass-growing action you handle, and it's all right here on The Path. So sit back and stay tuned because this could get out of controoooooool.

Don’t mention the ‘soccer’.

I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with it.

So now that all this World Cup hubbub has died down, perhaps I can ask the question: if ‘soccer’ is such a dirty word, how come the players of our national team (surely the ultimate of football fans?) are happy to be called the ‘Socceroos’? Why aren’t they in open revolt, pushing for a name change to the ‘Footballroos’? Or even, as a nod to their Australian heritage, the ‘Foodyroos’? If ‘soccer’ is good enough for our noble band of heroic footballing heroes, well then it’s good enough for me as well.

And speaking of good enough for me, where have those 2006 World Cup Australian Away jerseys been all my life?! Finally, a colour palette to be proud of, and a uniform that doesn’t make us look like an (admittedly athletic) team of Wiggles (but a team of Wiggles nonetheless). The Brazilians must have been pissed they didn’t get to play Away. Summer fun beach-wear for you again, boys, I'm afraid. Australian Green and Gold was, is, and shall forevermore be, awful, and I for one would like to see more of this dignified type of strip for all our god-like sporting heroes, doing us proud as they battle bravely for Australian glory, exactly like the diggers on the beaches at Gallipoli back in 1915. I don't know who's in charge of all that, but, you know, see what you can do? Thanks, I knew you could.

Warning: giant turkey.

“If there’s ever a delay, we’ll txt you straight away. SMS Updates gives you FREE up-to-the-moment information about any delays to your train service.”

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Pretty handy service. So why, despite my train home being delayed almost every single night, have I not been contacted once? Why has my experience not lived up to the promise?

Oh wait, there’s fine print: “SMS messages sent by Connex are for all train cancellations and delays over 15 minutes”.

Sorry? Over 15 minutes? Look, I’m no stranger to weaselly fine print, but let’s look at their bold print statements again: “If there’s ever a delay, we’ll txt you straight away. SMS Updates gives you FREE up-to-the-moment information about any delays to your train service.” I don't see a single second of wiggle room in that statement. It sounds to me like a service that could tell you to keep running because your train’s been delayed by 3 minutes and you can still make it! But no. Fifteen minutes is the best (or worst) you can hope for, and you’ll just have to discover any old trifley 14 minute delays for yourself.

So, the fine print doesn’t clarify the statement, it completely alters it. “If there’s an extended delay, we’ll contact you pretty much straight away,” is not as snappy, but would be closer to the reality. The use of absolute terms like ‘ever’ and ‘any’ seems self-defeating; if you create unrealistic expectations for your new service, don’t be surprised if people think it sucks. As I say, my experience has not lived up to the promise, and as delays longer than 15 minutes are in my experience thankfully rare, this new ‘service’ seems all but irrelevant.

So it’s no help with workaday delays, but what about cancellations? Well last week I got this message at 6:26 am: “Post, the 7:36 am Reservoir train to Flinders Street has been cancelled. Connex apologises for any inconvenience,” which was followed by this one an hour later: “Post, the 7:36 am Reservoir train to Flinders Street will now run. Connex apologises for any inconvenience.” So I’m not exactly filled with confidence.

Then yesterday at 5:33pm I received this message from Connex: “Post, due to a fault, buses have replaced trains Flinders St – Clifton Hill. Please go to Flinders St. We apologise for the inconvenience. Call 131638.” There was an incident like this a while back and I got all the way to my platform before discovering I needed to head for Flinders, so I was pretty impressed by this message. Until I discovered The Age website had posted a detailed article on the situation a full 16 minutes before Connex managed to send me a text message. Rapid response, Connex. Really “up-to-the-moment”. Did you learn of the situation from The Age’s website too? Or CNN, perhaps? Then, 13 minutes later, a second SMS informed me “The fault has now been rectified and services are resuming to normal”. Wow! Resolved in 13 minutes? They might be slow to start, but they finish like lightning!

The icing though was the apology in the same message. It was as though they’d read my earlier post and knew they needed to alter the script and pull out something special. And they did:


Not one, but two apologies. It's a double-scoop of sincerity. That’s making an effort. Thanks Connex. You're the best. Apology accepted.

Please Kelloggs, I want some more.

Speaking of the need for this blog to tackle the Big issues, have you seen the ‘serving suggestion’ on a box of Special K? I have. (For some reason).


Thirteen flakes (give or take) and a thimble-full of milk! And you'll like it! No whinging. I don’t know if a spoon’s worth of Special K for breakfast will “keep you looking and feeling good”, but it’ll certainly keep you skinny.

Technology boom.

Oh, and if you've ever wanted to blow up a Mac, live vicariously...