Syllable Soliloquies

Leave a reply

I have enjoyEd documenting the occasional moment or observation in the form of Haiku.

Haikus are poems that follow a strict, concise three-line format. They appear simple on the surface, but there is always a challenge to capture the essence of something in 17 syllables. No more, no less.

I’ve brought here the ones I published on Twitter over the years, and hope to return to the practice.

On my 47th birthday:

 The day of my birth
As old as I’ve ever been
A number only.
(07/05/2024)

Haikus make you count
Each and every syllable
One, two, three, four, five

(25/08/2011)
Taking her for wees
She takes minutes or seconds
Depending on rain.
(02/12/2019)
A tiny kitten
She prances so joyfully 
Sadly on a road.
(27/09/2013)

Watching a cat pee,
I realise I meditate
So very poorly.

(23/08/2018)
Cold and wet with fog
Two pidgeons enjoy cover
A black cat observes.
(08/02/2018)

Eucalyptus tree
A rare treat here in Dubai
Squeezed leaves smell like home.

(12/10/2018, may have inspired my return to Australia)
Computer keyboard
An ant is walking
Next stop "Esc" key.
(05/11/2015)
A man got married
Got divorced, met a new girl
More trouble ahead
(03/02/2012, I picked it - a former colleague’s unfortunate fate)

Destroyed someone’s home.
Disabled a hunter’s trap.
Goodbye spiderweb.

(31/01/2020)
A troop of kangaroos
They reveal themselves to me
Hopping in tall wheat.
(29/11/2019, I was the only commuter watching this spectacle on a busy regional train into Melbourne)

Sleeping on a train,
Argument lost by old man.
I’m happy to stand.

(17/01/2023, content that I gave my seat to another passenger – who was clearly very tired)

Farcical Recognition

Leave a reply

Our community Facebook group recently had one member post images of alleged shoplifters, and even asked for their names, or perhaps it was just for the purpose of shaming the pair into oblivion. Unsurprisingly a huge community uproar ensued, with only a couple of people questioning if it’s an appropriate use of the channel.

What I did find surprising among the pile on, was one person commented with a link to the Pimeyes web service – mentioning they may get lucky and find the culprits from the images.

I couldn’t help myself, and wanted to check this site out. I happened to have an extremely obscure photo of myself pulling a strained facial expression – when my kids and I were goofing around to see who could look in the most painful state. So I uploaded the absurd picture and wondered how many similarly absurd people their algorithm would uncover.

My mind was blown!

It found just one character in their index of 900 million people, and it was me! A single image, I know that was taken in early 2012 which may have temporarily been a social media profile picture which was long since changed and deleted.

The Pimeyes service makes it money from the next actions available. You can either uncover the source of that file and associated info to help in your person hunt, for $27. OR, if the incriminating photo is you, for $70 they can purge the image and all information to keep your discovery safe from prying Facebook sleuths.

What a business model!

I regularly use facial recognition in managing my online photo albums, and find it quite amazing how it can match my kids’ baby photos to their current photos.

It was jarring though to fail to deceive a third party service with such a bad source file.

In a world where privacy feels increasingly elusive, the realization that a single photograph from my past transcended time and resurface with such ease is jarring. As I ponder the implications, a sense of vulnerability takes hold. I’m reminded that the digital realm can be an unforgiving archive. Despite my efforts to outsmart the technology, it possesses an eerie ability to cut through my disguise and reveal the truth, leaving me unsettled and questioning the extent of anyone’s control over their own image and identity.

Those two girls appearing to steal perfume and makeup at Westfield’s don’t stand a chance if they don’t change their ways.

Exhibit A

Review: White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism

Leave a reply

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism written by Robin DiAngelo
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I found this an intriguing read. The (white) author is definitely skilled and comprehensive in their desire to take down the current establishment that disadvantages racial minorities. As a person of colour myself, I found it awkward to consider descending to her same depths of challenge required throughout every day life to break the system. I would never support racism, the book almost suggests that by not being actively anti- at all times I’m unconsciously being pro- white supremacy. Certainly good food for thought throughout. And the book is a handy antidote to the – hard to explain – subtlety that troubles me from time to time.

View all my GoodReads reviews

A tough watch

Leave a reply

I knew it would be a tough watch.

A recent episode of ABC’s Australian Story program featured the work of Mechelle Turvey, mother of Cassius Turvey – the 15 year old Aboriginal boy who was slain in 2022.

Cassius was the victim of a senseless, unprovoked, racist attack in Western Australia. His death shocked all of Australia and resulted in nationwide vigils and rallies (Wikipedia). As a father myself of Aboriginal boys of the same age, I clearly remember the story rocking me to my core.

The timing of this episode was sadly poignant. In a fresh story also out of Western Australia (this time Broome), video footage had gone viral of a tradesman that had used cable ties to handcuff and shackle three young Aboriginal siblings together. The three kids – ages 6, 7, and 8 – were restrained for almost an hour in the 33 degree Summer heat. The kids are seen in the recording screaming for their Mum and wanting water. And why did the guy feel the need to intervene and assault these children? He found them trespassing in the neighbour’s pool.

Against that emotional backdrop, I watched this episode, mostly bawling my eyes out.

Like most Australian Stories it was amazing.

I had heard that Mechelle Turvey took a very peaceful position when the protests began in Cassius’s name. There were definitely forces rising across the Nation which wanted revenge and worse. “Mama’s on a Mission“, as they titled it, shows just how incredibly warm and positive her response became, to ease those tensions.

Mechelle is inspiring, and a very worthy recipient of WA’s Australian Of The Year. She has even gone on to teach empathy to the Western Australian police force in an ongoing role. This is just remarkable, given some of their ineptitude they showed in dealing with the Aboriginal community.

There’s no way I can even fathom that amount of grief, let alone come through it with something positive and helpful. We also learned more about Cassius, and how he continues to inspire through his memory and the legacy his beautiful Mum honours.

Although it was tough to watch and hear about this episode again, I think it adds some important positivity to some terribly negative stories of racial violence, which is sadly not yet a thing of the past for Australia.

A long day

Leave a reply

Marvelling at the Sun’s beauty again, I realise, my commute extended from dawn til dusk.

With a 7am departure, a peaking sliver of pink peach rose to my right. Along the journey, a tall sky inhaled it up to a full circle of orange.

My 8pm return, the same peach – once more on my right – descending and nestling into slumber.

13 hours have passed, and I’m satisfied. I have done all I could for this day.

Alternate modes of transport

Leave a reply

On my last commute into the city, my regular train service was unavailable due to their staff members being on strike. I shared the update with my work group chat, and that I still managed to get into the office.

Their emoji reactions show they’ve become familiar with me perhaps running more than most. Covering 102kms between home and my work office though!? I must say their expectations are severely out of touch.

Some roads don’t lead to Mecca

Leave a reply

I had a chance encounter with a former colleague. It turns out we work in the same building on different floors. It was quite a surprise, even more so that I remembered her name!

We were briefly sharing our work history since we worked together and she mentioned after our org she went to Mecca. I acknowledged with a knowing head nod, and mentioned that’s great. But it came as a bit of a shock, as I had no inkling she was Muslim. I thought her beliefs were quite the opposite, in some respects.

Back in my office I looked up her professional profile on LinkedIn. After we worked together she joined a company called MECCA Brands, that sells cosmetics and associated products.

Bellarine Sunset Run – 10 Feb 2024

Leave a reply

On the weekend I ran the half marathon at the Flying Brick (Cider) Bellarine Sunset Run. It was my 21st half marathon.

I think there were almost 900 people at this event in all. 369 runners and walkers for the half alone.

I spotted Australian cycling royalty Cadel Evans collecting his runner’s bib which got a lot of interest from our group. Cadel was looking very fit, altho a shadow of his Tour de France champion physique. Definitely still athletic, he went on to finish in 6th position for the half marathon, in a respectable 1hr 30.

It was a warm day, at least 26 degrees which led to lots of people struggling through the afternoon. But the support of the crowd and caravan park party people didn’t subside. A few along the course sprayed us with their garden hoses, which everyone appreciated. When I checked facetiously if it was in fact water, there were a variety of funny answers.

My own running pace was very controlled for the first 10kms, and I was pleased with my training to be on track somewhere under 1:50 pace, but the heat was definitely becoming a factor.

While I was running, I saw my mate Gary, my coaching counterpart for the Under 12s rugby team last year. Gary surprised me by giving me a high-five as he ran by from the other way. He’s new to running long races and had started in the group which began 20 minutes earlier.

Just before this chance encounter, doubts were entering my head whether I could continue at this pace or if my body would reluctantly slow down. I continued on, even speeding up a little as I was distracted with a mini goal to catch up to my mate. It didn’t take long to reach him, and the poor guy was definitely struggling. I thought it’d be a lot more rewarding to help him pull through his ‘hurt locker’, and also catch up with him for the first time since our kids rugby season concluded last year.

He tried unsuccessfully for me to return to my race alone instead of joining him. I wondered, did I really choose to slow down and help him with some company through the race, or did I just choose the easy option and opt out on the hard work to run faster?

It didn’t matter in the end. It was enjoyable to take it easy and ignore my finishing time and spend the time more socially. He lives on the Bellarine, not far from the half marathon route and knew the course quite well. He even ran the whole thing a few days earlier – probably contributing to the massive muscle cramps he suffered in his quads. So he knew the landmark tree to spot which signalled the final two kilometres. We finished up our last resting walk before raising the pace, and even adding a sprint down the hill and around the corner to the finish.

It felt so rewarding to cross the finish line to the cheers of the remaining crowd. Maybe a sign of our mutual struggle, we didn’t give high fives at the end, we had a hearty hug.

After getting our medals I found a grassy spot for my mate to crash and relax his painful legs, while I got us two Apple Ciders (including quite an unusual line called a Splicer). Unfortunately my phone had unlocked at some point inside my hydration vest and had pressed wrong passcodes. It resulted in the phone locking me out for 10 minutes, which blocked me from making mobile payments. So my friend had to regrettably stand up again on his painful legs and pay for the drinks I was supposedly buying us.

I ended up having more with some of our Surf Coast Trail Runners who had returned from their volunteering duties at the event. Given the afternoon’s heat they were impressed with everyone’s effort, and more than a little pleased with their decision to volley instead of run. We stayed on at the finish line cheering the finishers until the final participant crossed, closely followed by more of our SCTR friends who were the volunteer tail walkers.

The night ended with us making the last order of Bahn Bao Buns from the final food truck yet to pack up. Then we found the local pizza place still open at 9pm, which provided a great (only?) dinner option, before I made the 50 minute drive home.

Starting a half marathon at 5:20pm doesn’t feel natural to me. It’s near impossible to spend an entire day around my kids without them consuming most of my energy. Perhaps that helped with the decision to take this race comfortably in the end, which made for a wonderful running experience. Think I’ll add this event to my annual running schedule.