December 23

Happy Birthday, Master Builder

We picked up our bags, bundled the Game Guru into his car seat, and headed off to the hospital. No hysterics; no panic; a stroll in the park really albeit one of us enjoyed it a lot less than the others, what with the contractions and all. We were pros at the birthing game. The attending doctor wasn’t.

Let me rephrase that. The attending doctor – young as he was – had experience in delivering babies but his attitude crossed the line to the unprofessional side. He was in a big hurry and wanted to expedite the delivery instead of letting it run its natural course. He obviously had something better to do with his time. The Librarian’s mood darkened by the minute and she gave  the doctor an earful. Let’s just say the Librarian didn’t care if he hadn’t completed his Christmas shopping yet (I thought it was more along the lines of a nurse and a broom cupboard but that’s just the way my mind works.)

The replacement doctor was much better.

Eleven years later the Master Builder opens his birthday presents. His unrestrained happiness at receiving a huge Transformers set and yet more Lego is a joy to watch. At times like these it is easy to forget that Master Builder is high functioning autistic.

His enthusiasm continued unabated throughout the day as he absorbed the events: lunch at Whiteman Park, dinner at home and an ice cream from the Cold Rock ice creamery at Hillary’s beach.

The smile was still on his face when he went to bed to dream of Christmas just two sleeps away.

Category: Birthdays | 6 Comments on Happy Birthday, Master Builder
December 20

A Letter To Senator Stephen Conroy

Dear Stephen (may I call you Stephen? You can call me Saucer.).

I for one welcome the measures you are about to take to protect us Australians from the horrors of the Internet. What do we know about our own good, after all, eh? It warms the cockles of my heart to think that you and Kevin (I hope Mr Rudd doesn’t mind me calling him Kevin; he can call me Saucer) are out there protecting us. I especially like the way you constantly state that your Internet filter will protect the children (nyuk! nyuk!) And the way you constantly expand the blacklist behind the filter is genius, Stephen. Pure genius!!

However, Steve (may I call you Steve? Call me Saucer) I must take exception with the limited expanse of your vision. Internet censorship is all well and good but there are so many things in this bad, old world that are just waiting to trip us up. Maybe you and Kev (may I call him Kev?) apply your splendid ideas to these other areas as well. I humbly offer the following great filters:

1. The Great Fire Filter

People cannot be trusted with fire, especially in Australia. I lit a fire once and it singed my eyebrows. I propose the introduction of a fire license which would allow only qualified personnel near fire starting equipment. People already call plumbers and electricians so why not a licensed fire starter? We can use your cunning “protect the children” gambit to ease the introduction of this filter.

2. The Great Pen and Pencil Filter

These horrible devices can easily put out an eye, you know? We must protect the people from the trauma caused by accidently poking oneself in the eye. I, for one, cannot write more than a handful of words without poking myself in the eye. Once again, the “protect the children” gambit will work wonders.

3. The Great Mirror Filter

Did you know that these devices are capable of showing you your own naked body? I almost fainted just the other day when I injudiciously glanced up at the bathroom mirror just before I stepped into the shower. Can you imagine the harm this will cause people? Let’s ban mirrors to protect the children?

4. the Great Book Filter

These horrors are almost as accessible as the Internet and contain equally vile content that could (nay, will) harm us Australians. I once glanced at a book that was chock full of violence and disgusting, filthy sex. One particular scene describes how a father offers his two virgin daughters to a mob that wants to rape his guests. These same daughters — having escaped their fate with the mob — then get their father drunk and have sex with him and conceive sons. What filth! Books like these should be banned. Besides they could cause paper cuts.

So there you have it, big SC (may I call you SC?) Something to think about, eh? I have many more ideas (The Great Brain Filter is in the formative stages; you’ll like that one) so let’s do lunch (but without those nasty knives and forks.)

Yours sincerely,

Flying Saucer Jones

Category: Censorship | LEAVE A COMMENT
December 14

She Made Me Cry, Ma

I am now two weeks into my 48th year upon this here mortal coil (thank you to all the well wishers; why yes, I had a grand old time) and the time for an eye test is long overdue. If it was left up to me I would probably never make it to any medical establishment but, thankfully, the Librarian is here. She decided it was high time we all got our eyes checked.

The Librarian and the kids went first and were already done by the time I finished work and and got to the optometrist. The first thing I noticed was that optometry appears to be the exclusive purview of the extremely young, female gender; at least it was at this particular optometrist’s place of business.

After the usual tests the beautiful, young optometrist told me (in her lovely Scottish brogue) that my distance vision is perfect. (Woohoo! Beat that, you young whippersnappers!) My close up vision, however, is just a tiny bit imperfect. (Ah! Well, wait ‘til you reach my age, you young whippersnappers.) I already knew about my less than perfect vision because the distance between the written word and my eyes has increased over the last couple of years. Before too long my arms will be at full stretch just to read a magazine (I do read the articles too, you know!!!)

The beautiful, young optometrist then informed me that she was going to administer the eye pressure test. She put some drops into both eyes and – when the stinging stopped – followed with a set of yellow drops. Then, with my eyeballs suitably numbed, she performed the test and announced that everything is perfect (I did mention her lovely Scottish brogue, didn’t I?) while the yellow drops streamed down my cheeks.

The final set of tests involved an extremely bright light. The beautiful, young optometrist told me she was checking the back of my eyes. I assume she was checking my retina. She asked me to look right and left and up and down and various combinations of those directions. The bright light made it very difficult to see anything which was especially frustrating during the “look down” part. The beautiful, young optometrist was directly in front of me and I was looking down into areas that should have caused my blood pressure to rise. Blasted bright light. Couldn’t see a thing. I cried yellow tears.

The lovely Scottish brogue informed me that the back walls of my eyes are perfect. I looked in the direction of her voice, smiled and fought the urge to sing Stevie Wonder songs. Thankfully, vision returned rapidly and I found myself back at the receptionist’s desk ordering a pair of reading glasses. The young girl there informed me that I would usually be slugged $500 for the privilege of decreasing the distance between the written word and my eyes. Ignoring the wail from my wallet she then told me that there was a discount that would shave $100 off the price. Another $100 came off because our insurance company covers about 25% (gee, thanks insurance company; making good use of my premiums, are you?) so I will be out of pocket a measly $300.

We left the optometrists with a wailing wallet and more yellow tears.

Category: Health | LEAVE A COMMENT