Gentle Reminder Notice

Melbourne’s public transport system is overcrowded. Everyone knows this. Everyone who regularly catches public transport has known this for five years.

Melbourne’s commuters are bad tempered, and they have every right to be. But that does not give them an excuse to be bad mannered. I feel it is time for a little refresher course in public transport (in particular, tram) courtesy. So, I bring you the

Guide to Harmonious Tram Travel

In no particular order:

Anyone over the age of 70 automatically gets a seat. This is non-negotiable. This is for a good reason. Old people break. You’re not going to be helping an old guy learn to walk again after the tram stops suddenly and he breaks his hip, so maybe you should just give him a little help now? Give up the seat. And don’t do it begrudgingly, there is plenty of seat time in your future.

Pretending you didn’t see the old person because you were listening to your Ipod is not acceptable. Eyes and ears are different people.

Sit in the seat correctly. I don’t care how much the guy next to you stinks. Knees forward. Poking your legs out into the isle takes up premium standing space for those who have not scored a seat like you.

Put your bag on your lap, or tuck it under your seat, don’t take up what little ankle room there is with bags.

We are not children and therefore you cannot ‘bags’ seats. Sprinting onto the tram, grabbing a seat, and then using your bag to mind it for 10 minutes while you get up to buy a ticket is not fair play.

Those standing, take your backpack off. This is non-negotiable. While it might not appear it to you, your backpack makes you a meter wide, and every single time you turn around someone scores a backpack to the chest/shoulder/face (depending on victim height).

Wearing outrageously high and flimsy stilettos does not automatically give you access to a seat. It is your own stupid fault for wearing them on a tram in the first place. Of course if you are over 70 and wearing stilettos I will not only give you a seat, but a medal as well.

If you are sitting, don’t stare at those standing as if they are somehow cluttering up you world. It is likely to make people angry beyond reason.

When sitting next to strangers on the tram, do not lean on them. Not even just a little bit. If you spine is so weak that you can't hold up your own body for the duration of the trip then perhaps you should consider getting up from your desk for some exercise occasionally?

Do not talk loudly on your phone to your secretary about how much you have to do today and all of the meetings you will need to reschedule. This can be done in 5 minutes when you actually reach the office. I’m sorry, you are just not that important.

Ipods have a volume control for a reason – use it. Listening to ‘I want to be your girlfriend’ in tinny reverb because some guy three seats away has his Ipod up too loud is not fun and likely to incur revenge.

If you are sitting in the seat next to the ticket machine and the machine it is defective, it is your responsibility to inform every new ticket purchaser before they put the money into the machine. Yes, this is tedious and unfair, but so is losing you money in the ticket machine. Would you like to be told before you lose all of your gold coins to the machine? That is a glass of wine or a posh beer you’ve just missed out on.

Please, for pity sake, put your perfume on when you get to work. The commingling of 120 different deodorants and perfumes on the morning tram is enough to put anyone into anaphylactic shock.

When the tram driver gives you instructions, like ‘please get out of the doorway’ or ‘move to the centre of the tram, please’, don’t stand around stupidly and look at other people as if they driver is quite clearly not talking to you. The tram driver is not threatening your civil liberties; they would just like to get the tram moving. Things will go a lot more smoothly and the tram will move a lot more quickly if you just do as they say.

If you see someone sprinting franticly for the tram as it begins to pull away, don’t be a prick, pull the cord and help them on. It’ll be the only good deed you have to do all day, I promise.

Further suggestions welcomed.

Rats of Tobruk

I just watched the sale of the Rats of Tobruk hall in Albert Park for 1,730 000 dollars.

Every time a building gets sold in my suburb, every time a shop closes and a chain opens, we call it the ‘end of the era’. In fact, just last week I jokingly suggested that the installing of new check-out counters at the local IGA should be marked with a minutes silence for the old ones. The changes in Albert Park have been so slow and at the same time so fast that we have had many ends of many eras. The only difference this time that somehow, this time, I think it might be true. The sale of this building is indeed an end of an era.

My experience of the Rats building at the end of my street, was, for a long time, one of mild confusion. As a small child walking home form the school bus I was always slightly bemused. What is that building? Who are the rats? Why would rats need a building anyway? Despite not understanding its importance I always enjoyed seeing the building with is wrought iron gates and its mysterious stained glass windows. It was a hallmark of my neighbourhood. A familiar sight that meant that home was 'not long now'.

Having studied much world war two history I now have a much better understanding about the Rats of Tobruk, their significance, and why that little hall has been an important meeting place for 50 years.

As a cultural heritage student I have a much better understanding of what the building means. Standing next to the new owner of this place as he bid (or at least the man sent to bid for them) I looked at him, wondering what is in store for the Rats of Tobruk. I am curious and hopeful that they might be able to do justice to the important site they now hold and a little sad that it can no longer be the place that I remember.

Bully Boys

5 teenage boys from Xavier College bully their classmate by sticking him in the 'wheelie bin of terror' and pushing and kicking the bin until he falls flat on the ground. They video it and distribute it to their mates. Xavier development director Graham Sharp describes it as "a prank that got out of hand".

Nice.

Now thats what I call developing 'reflective, compassionate and articulate men of Christian faith and hope, who will give service and leadership in our world'.

Well at least we can rest assured that, given its Xavier, half these boys will probaly be drafted into the AFL in the next couple of years. One can only wonder what they'll be able to do once they have a massive disposable income and too much free time.

Political Inclusion?

Julia Gillard spoke at the Melbourne University Centre for Public Policy last night, on the topic of ‘Labor's framework for social inclusion’. She spoke knowledgably and engagingly about what is essentially weet-bix dry public policy. It clearly not a particularly sexy topic because, the public lecture was not nearly as packed out with punters (and whackos) that an event like this would usually be.

I have long been a fan, but that was based almost entirely on the fact that she was a woman and a Melbournian. There was no rational basis on which I had formed my opinion.

Last night I was hugely impressed with her as a speaker and even more impressed with the depth of her knowledge of policy and ideas outside her own portfolios. During a Q&A session she fielded questions about gay & lesbian policy, the budget, indigenous affairs, women’s affairs, infrastructure and IR with ease and it was quite apparent that unlike certain minister within the current administration, she actually reads things that are given to her.*

Its not really a surprise to me that the punters didn’t turn out in droves to this lecture, because social policy, and particularly policy surrounding social inclusion, is just not sexy. This is for two reasons. One, is that its really, really hard to find anything that works and twice as hard to pay for it. And two, its about helping the old, the poor, the uneducated, the disabled, migrants and aboriginal people, and most of the population couldn’t give a stuff about any of them.

But it turns out Julia Gillard does. She actually believes in social policy and that we have an obligation to invest in social inclusion while the economy is strong enough to pay for it. It warmed my heart to see someone working within the government (or at least the alternative government**) talking about the things I care about and saying the sorts of things I like to hear. It has been a long time.

Like Tom, I am struggling to contain my pessimism (the dees season is quite obviously ruined and its only round 3) about the coming election and my disillusionment with the political climate in general, but last night’s lecture was a nice reminder that some of my values are also held by some of the politicians, some of the time.

*She also had this very clever way of mentioning the shadow minister for whichever portfolio she was talking about, a bit of a ‘getting to know the gang’ kind of a thing.

** I am enjoying the way Special K has started calling it the ‘alternative government’ makes it sound like they actually are an ‘alternative’ not just an ‘opposition’.

You can now get a transcript of this lecture from here.

You light up my life

Oh, my god, are you for reals?

This is quite possibly the silliest thing I have ever heard.

The game is now so fast and so controlled that nobody in the stands can tell whats going on. So what we'll do is turn the lights on and off to make it more theatrical... so the supporters dont get bored.

Problems with game? Nah.

Chappelli on Woolmer

There isn't much that Ian Chappell says that I find myself diagreeing with. His recent article in The Bulletin on the death of Bob Woolmer is no excpetion.

I have struggled to find anything to say about Woolmer, the World Cup, and the match fixing, betting scandals and dodgy dealings that continue unabated in international cricket.

Lucky there are those more qualifyed and articulate to say what I mean for me.

Take your canvas bag, take your canvas bag...

I study at one university and work at another, and these two institutions could not be more different either geographically or ideologically. Yet, despite these differences, a fashion phenomenon seems to sweeping the student body at both institutions.

It is entirely unexplainable; it is… the country road canvas bag.

For those who are not in the know (ie. Me until a week ago), it looks like this…




Once the purview of Toorak gym-goers and weekend trips to Lorne, it appears the humble country road bag is now the hottest fashion accessory for the undergraduate set.

Why? Well, I’m not entirely sure.

All I can tell you as that it is not gender specific, that the most prevalent colours are ‘army’ and ‘deep lake’* and that they retail on ebay for a whopping 70+ bucks.

It may come as a surprise to you, but fashion has always been something of a mystery to me. And why anyone would pay that much for a canvas bag to carry their school books around in is probably going to remain a mystery, I fear.


*Yes these are actual colours (well, in the retail sense of the word 'colour'). Thank you to ebay for providing both the image and all of the information I could ever want about country road canvas bags.

Genius

I just recieved an email from the Rights at Work campaign against the IR legislation. They have an innovative new way to get supporters to cough up some hard currency for their ad campaigns. I for one, think it genius.

Check it out at http://www.rightsatwork.com.au/campaigns/bbq.

I would personally love to try the 'Non-Core Promises Spicy Beef Patties'.

Honda's earth dream

I'm guessing not to many people watch the Australian GP yesterday. Thats okay, you didn't miss very much. When the winning driver laps pretty much every other car in the race, you can tell there is going to be yet another long and boring season of Formula One ahead.

One mildly interesting thing that I did notice during yesterday's race was the shiny new Honda paint job, entirely sans advertising. It looks like this:



There is a URL on the back of the car, www.myearthdream.com.

There was very little publicity about this as a part of the reaceday coverage, so until I went to the site I had no real idea what Honda was up to. Have a quiz and see for youself.

While I'm not sure if this campaign is the most effective way to change the world, it is interesting to note that environmental concerns are even making an impact on one of the most environmentally devastating sports around.

Quality Keating

"All tip and no iceberg."









"Desiccated coconut."








Thank you for brightening my day Mr Keating.

And the partially sucked lifesaver* goes to…

Melbourne Victory had a rather successful win over Adelaide last night wouldn’t you say?




I had the opportunity to watch the game on Foxtel (not quite like being there, but there was air-conditioning involved), and while I am yet to be convince that the skill level of both the players and the commentators is in any way superior to the NSL, I must admit it was nice to see the round ball game going so well.

The crowd was great in size and in attitude, despite being alternately soaked in sweat, then rain and also by those strange mist-making machines that were brought in to help cool the players. Sadly, the mist-machine had no such effect on Ross Aloisi who went to some effort to stupidly get sent off in the first half, marking the end of Adelaide’s chances for success.

The man seen smiling in all of the post game photography, Archie Thompson, did a wonderful job, scoring a hat-trick in the first half, and casually finishing off his tally sheet with another two goals in the second half. Christian Sarkies did well to come on as Archie’s replacement and really stick the boot into the miserable Adelaide. But frankly all awards must go to Fred, a player whose class and skill with the ball continues to set Victory apart from the rest. With service like that its no wonder Thompson walked away with 5.

However, I would like point out something to television news producers. When producing a sports news story, I would appreciate it if you could tell me about the result of the game before you tell me about how well-behaved the crowd was. Victory crowds have proved themselves over two seasons to be free from organised violence and it is insulting to both the fans and the team that race violence (or lack thereof) is more important than the results of the game.

* am I really the only person who thinks this is the worst sporting trophy ever produced?

Picture from The Age online.

Sharks Circling

In one of the best mental pictures I have encountered in a while, Kelvin Thompson* described this man

as being like this man



Apparently it had something to do with Howard never admitting he is wrong, not because of the massive laugh track surge every time Howard enters a room.

Seems like a slightly skew-wiff analogy to me, but it did get me to thinking... is it possible the Howard government just might


before the next election?






* shadow attorney-general. No I hadn’t remember his name either

The Road Ahead

I am new to the whole commuter bicycling thing.

I have long been a partially comatose morning commuter sitting in the tram watching poor cyclists flog their guts out getting up the Swanston Street hill. But now it is me on the bike getting hot a sweaty while pedestrians and tram goers look on in sympathy.

I still have the L-plates on, but I am quickly learning the road rules from a cyclists perspective.

Road Rule 1
Bike lanes are more like guidelines rather actual rules. Drivers can feel free to pull up in the bike lane during peak hour – particularly if they are a taxi.

Road Rule 2
Councils are under absolutely no obligation to maintain the road in the bike lane. Terrible patch up jobs, half done maintenance work and potholes are perfectly acceptable terrain for cyclists.

Road Rule 3
When a driver parks and gets out of their car they are required to pretend cyclists do not exist. They must appear shocked and annoyed when a cyclist almost kills themselves trying not to run into said driver.

Road Rule 4
If you are riding in a pack after a bunch up at the lights, road rules no longer apply.

Road Rule 5
If you wear spandex shorts and your lower legs look like two football socks full of cricket balls you do not have to stop for red lights. In fact, you can pretty much pick and choose which road rules you would like to obey.

I seem to be getting the hang of it, I think. Am I missing anything?

You be Riff and I'll be Bernardo

I would like to second Tom’s excellent piece about the ‘riots’ at the Australian Open on Monday.

I witnessed many such fights during my days attending the local soccer and trust me when I tell you this violence has very little to do with race.

These are 16-25 year old boys, with more testosterone than brain cells who get together and decide to they want to fight. So they call up their mates. Then they call up the guys they want to fight.

That’s right, the whole thing is usually prearranged. They arrange a time and a place and meet up to fight. Or they go to a place where they know each other is going to be (like the tennis). It’s more like a first date than riot.

Its the live action version of the Jets and the Sharks. And the choreography is often just as good (although, perhaps will a little less boxstep).



The whole thing is designed for one purpose only – to show your own mates how tough you are.

Its about aggression, its about masculinity, its about boredom, its not about race.

The many things I have wanted to say

Mustering the energy to blog is rather difficult at this time of year. Particularly since I have just bought a fabulous, extremely expensive and ridiculously fast new bike, and now have to expend all of my spare energy riding it to work every day. I do have several things to say though. So, in no particular order:

Jim Courier is not a good commentator.

Could the Ashes series have been more dull? (I missed the Adelaide test, so I cannot vouch for the ‘game of the century’ status of that particular outing, but the rest of it was crap.)

I love Sports Night.

Three days of the boxing day test is not enough – I say we make them bat again. And again!

If I have to hear Jim Courier and JA trading sexual innuendo while commentating again I will be sick.

Tony Grieg makes me so angry I want to scream.

If you don’t have an air conditioner, I find a wet towel placed in the freeze for 20 minutes to be a delightful alternative (uses less power too).

20/20 is really good fun to watch. But its not cricket.

Ejecting the entire Greek, Serb and Croatian support group from the tennis on Monday because a couple of testosterone fuelled little boys had a punch-on isn’t really fair.

The media beat up surrounding said ‘riot’ was absurd and there is absolutely no way it can be compared to the events last summer at Cronulla.

Marat Safin is a grumpy, grumpy man. Not so much personally aggressive on the court (like our friend Lleyton) but genuinely pissed off that the world exists at all.

If I hear another person start a conversation with ‘Gee, its hot, isn’t it…’, I will have to evict them from the planet.

SBS’s editing out of two segments from this weeks episode of Top Gear to fit in advertising is about the most disrespectful thing a television station can do to its audience. I thought SBS thought better of us than that. Apparently not.

And…Wow, lots of white dresses at the Golden Globes this year.

Here ends today’s musing/ranting.