Labor’s health policy
At first glance I was impressed by Labor’s policy to guarantee immediate free hospital care, when required, for people aged over 75. This was good news for oldies, of course, but potentially good news for younger people paying private health insurance.
The assumption was that older folk would no longer need private health insurance, thereby reducing premiums for the rest of us.
The Prime Minister today raised some thoughtful arguments in response. He pointed out that there are only so many doctors to go around, and reducing the waiting list for old people would, by extension, increase it for young people.
He also pointed out that Labor could not guarantee older people a private room under their policy. Many people choose to have private health insurance for that reason. The assumption that most people aged over 75 will quit private insurance is therefore less credible.
It’s an interesting debate and one that can’t be decided with just a superficial look.
Snowy gets groomed
Snowy had his first hair cut today and a full grooming. A lady in Myrtleford gave him a bath, clipped his nails and trimmed his hair.
She said Snowy was the “best behaved puppy” she’s ever handled. The dog came back smelling good and seeing more sharply, no doubt. He now looks more like a poodle than a sheepdog.
Partners in mischief
The twins are mobile now, crawling wherever they like, standing and climbing. They can walk with support from objects such as chairs and walls.
The Summer That Never Was
British crime writer Peter Robinson has really grown on me. I’ve just finished his 13th Inspector Banks mystery, The Summer That Never Was, and came away with a feeling of total respect for Robinson’s literary talent.
I know I expressed mixed views after my first Banks experience, In A Dry Season, but that was based mainly on what I saw then as a preoccupation with the detective’s personal life at the expense of drama and narrative.
I now consider that if I had started this series chronologically, I wouldn’t have had the same concern. Part of the appeal for me now is following the ups and downs of Banks the man.
He’s a copper with compassion. Obsessed by work, his family life suffers and this becomes a central conflict in each novel to varying degrees.
The Summer That Never Was follows two parallel but unrelated cases involving the suspicious deaths of two teenage boys.
Graham Marshall was a boyhood friend of Banks, who partly blamed himself for not reporting to police an attack he narrowly escaped. Graham’s bones are dug up from a construction site and the case is re-opened.
Banks comes to learn, with relief, that his own attacker was an escaped lunatic and couldn’t possibly have killed Graham Marshall because he was dead when the boy disappeared.
Banks helps a local detective in Peterborough, Michelle Hart, to solve the puzzle.
Meanwhile, back in his home town of Eastvale, the highly strung son of a celebrity couple went missing and his body was later found in a remote dam.
Banks plays a support role for DI Annie Cabot in solving this mystery.
What I liked about this book, compared with others in the series, was that Robinson gave readers two cases to follow, with numerous sub-plots in both of them, along with the ongoing saga of Banks the private man.
He did this with skill and aplomb.
Mount Buffalo ride
For the third Sunday in a row I ventured up Mount Buffalo, this time with my trusty bike secured to the back of Suzie.
I completed three different rides, starting with a dirt and gravel track to the Reservoir and continuing along the Rocky Valley Trail.
The track doesn’t appear to have been graded since the fires and was in shocking condition for riding. I carried or walked the bike nearly as much as I rode it. The boggy sections and snow patches were to be expected, but flood scouring and total rock cover caused most of the problems.
The snow has nearly all melted now, but still covered the track in a few places. I found it’s impossible to cycle through soft snow, and again had to push the bike or carry it.
It was very enjoyable though. The snowplain doesn’t attract many visitors at this time of year and I had total solitude in which to appreciate the natural beauty.
I want to fire a broadside at Parks Victoria, however. They still haven’t finished repairing tracks that were damaged by bushfire in January 2002, despite the government pouring millions into rehabilitation.
Their communication of track closures is also ordinary, to say the least. I wanted to try and reach the Rocky Valley camp site today, but the track is closed about 3km from the Reservoir. Likewise, last week I wanted to walk to Andersons Peak, only to find the track closed.
Notices should be placed at the beginning of walks, instead of halfway along them. Newsletter updates should also be given when you pay $9.50 to enter the National Park.
Having cleared the air on that one, I can return to today’s ride. After cycling back to the car I completed two shorter trips on the main road.
Firstly I went to The Chalet, which was about 2.5km from where I had parked, or 5km return. Then I went about 3km in the other direction to Dingo Dell past Lake Catani (6km return).
I’ve only ever driven through this area, so it gave a new insight to see familiar features from the bike instead.
The weather started fairly mild and I abandoned my jumper to soak up the sun. I like to gain a bit of color early in the season.
Later though it turned cold and some light drizzle started. All up, I rode about 26km, which isn’t a lot except when you consider I carried the bike for perhaps two or three of them.
I passed a few road cyclists on the way up, awestruck at their fitness to climb over a 1000 metres. I found the 100 metre climb to Dingo Dell challenging enough.
I guess if I had the right sort of bike I could give the big one a shake. I also have to admire sport cyclists for how they handle the downhill runs. It was scary enough staying in control of my Repco hybrid doing 40kmh around the downhill bends.
Childhood leisure memories
I was asked recently to describe my leisure activities between the ages of 10 and 13. It’s an interesting question, especially as I can make comparisons with my children today.
I have to say though, that I can’t remember much about being 10 years old. In 1977 I was in grade five at St Michael’s Primary School, Traralgon. My teachers were Mrs Haylock and Miss Fitzpatrick.
I played football for Southside in the under 10s competition. I was in the best three players and won selection to the Traralgon interleague team.
Apart from that, it’s pretty much a blur. I have stronger memories of the later years.
Cricket: Most of the summer was spent playing cricket. I only needed one other person to play in the driveway, and sometimes I practiced bowling by myself.
The driveway pitch was concrete, with a boundary fence on one side and a carport on the other. There was no value from the pull shot, because of the fence, so cuts and drives were popular.
The other pitch was on a vacant block around the corner adjoining the spacious fields of the Hobson Park mental hospital. These grounds really were spacious. The hospital itself was at least a kilometre away. There was a proper cricket ground in between and tennis courts as well, which we were allowed to use.
Our cricket pitch was perfect for kids to play “tests” and limited overs games (six overs per team). It was six and out if you hit the ball over any fence except to the mental hospital, which was allowed. I once scored 32 runs in an over. We spent hours there and took the games quite seriously. I used to mow the pitch occasionally, but by the end of summer it was basically dust.
Football: I didn’t play team football after the successful stint in under 10s. I lost confidence and interest, which are both pre-requisites for children to play organised sport. We played kick to kick in the street and I followed the VFL.
I spent most Saturdays in winter tuning into the scratchy signal from Melbourne to hear Carlton or Fitzroy games. I followed both teams with equal enthusiasm at that stage.
The local ABC station used to cover the horse racing as well, which drove me mad. Hence I tried every trick to tune into 3LO, 3AW or 3KZ with Jack Dwyer and Ian Major. Melbourne was exactly 100 miles (160km) away, so to get any reception at all involved sitting in the car or taking a transistor radio outside in the cold and turning it to various angles.
Bike riding: I had a dragster. I just did a web search to check the spelling of dragster and found a reference from the Queensland Museum! Gee that makes me feel old. Here’s the exact quote:
“It was the quintessential fashion accessory for the age 8-14 crowd. With its high handlebars, banana seat, three gears on a frame and sissy bar it was the must have mode of transport for all kids. It was, without doubt, one of the most hazardous bicycles ever to be in fashion. With the rider sitting in a reclining position over the back wheel, it was a very simple matter to overbalance backwards and fall bottom first topped by the bike. After many accidents and intense training most riders developed the skill to ride and steer on the back wheel alone with the front wheel about two feet in the air.”
Yep, that’s a good summary. The dragster was a blue Thunderbird model with 20-inch wheels. Its impractical design didn’t stop me travelling long distances. I even ventured as far as Churchill and Morwell, about 15km away.
My parents later bought me a racing bike, but I’m pretty sure the dragster was my mode of transport until about the age of 12.
Squash: Around the age of 13, I was heavily into squash. I played in juniors and the adult D grade competition, winning the club championship one year.
Outdoor games: One of my favorite places was called “The Canyon”. It was a gorge through which a small creek ran to a walled reservoir on the Dunbar property at the end of Hickox Street. I see it’s now called the Rose Avenue Nature Park.
The gorge had high walls and we used to have “yonnie” fights. Teams of two or three boys used to pile up dirt bombs and throw them at each other. There were some natural hiding places and some corrugated iron sheets that offered protection. Nobody ever got hurt, that I can recall.
War games: Kids don’t play war games today. I guess we did because the Second World War was still in the memory of adults around us, either through direct experience or the repercussions. The Cold War was also raging, if that’s the correct term.
I had toy soldiers who fought various battles. With some other boys I used to collect cards of military aircraft and warships. We played games where you selected a card to battle the other boy’s card, nominating a feature, eg speed or firepower. If yours was faster or stronger you won the battle and the card.
Collections: I collected coins, stamps and comics. I still have all of these collections and they’re probably worth several thousand dollars. I have most of the Australian pre-decimal stamps and mint copies of many stamps and first-day covers.
I can’t remember how I came by most of them, except relatives helped a lot with the coins and stamps. I think I spent most of my pocket money buying Walt Disney comics. I also collected football cards every year from about 1975 to 1978 and wish now that I’d kept them.
Television: I don’t want to give the impression that I was entirely an active outdoors child. In fact, I was quite a slob at the age of 11 and very unfit. Bike riding and squash made me fit again from 12 onwards.
My parents gave me a portable black and white television for my bedroom and connected it to the aerial. We needed a big aerial on the roof in those days to pick up the Melbourne stations, otherwise you were stuck with GLV10 and the ABC.
Like the satellite dishes that you see throughout country Australia today, the roof tops of Traralgon in the 1970s were covered in 30-foot antennae.
I watched a lot of television back then and during the school holidays it wasn’t unusual for me to stay up until 2am and sleep in to 11am the next morning. I watched whatever was on, mainly old movies that I can’t remember at all today.
Fantasy: Most boys play fantasy games and I was no exception. I created my own world, with countries named after friends and family members. They forged alliances and fought wars. Looking back it was probably a great outlet for any frustration or aggression I might have felt.
This game was highly organised. I drew maps of the countries. They had currencies, governments, sports, etc.
One of my favorite pastimes was building things with plastic blocks. My son Michael (Dude) now has these blocks, but hardly ever plays with them. I also used the blocks to represent the countries of my fantasy world. The blocks formed armies that fought each other using marbles for missiles. They also formed soccer, rugby and football teams.
Soccer was played with marbles, while a tiddlywinks disc was used for football and rugby.
Reading: I wouldn’t say I was a voracious reader, but I probably read more than other boys my own age. I moved on from Enid Blyton about the age of 10, I suppose, to Alfred Hitchcock mysteries, the Jennings books of Anthony Buckeridge, my father’s old Biggles books and CS Lewis. I also enjoyed non-fiction, especially history.
Was I typical? I think so. The emphasis was different from boy to boy, but we all pursued similar interests to different degrees.
The situation today: Dude is eight years old, so I can’t compare apples with apples, but he has some older friends and the age is close enough.
Their outdoor games are similar. They climb trees, play down at the river and ride their bikes.
They don’t play as much sport. Cricket and football don’t dominate their attention like they did for me from 1977 to 1980. They play a little of both, also soccer and hockey, which weren’t known to me at that age. They’re into tennis at the moment as well.
They don’t collect coins or stamps. I suppose the pace of life has changed. We live in a world of instant gratification and hobbies that involve patience and perseverance don’t seem as common as they used to.
They watch a similar amount of television. Dude has fantasy games, but they’re not yet as organised as mine were.
Instead of collecting military cards the boys collect cards with Pokemon and Yugioh characters, and fight battles with them.
The big difference, of course, is technology. In addition to television the boys today have Playstations, computers, video machines and DVD players.
Dude spends a lot of time playing computer games and on the internet, fortunately not to the detriment of outdoor games and fitness.
So how has the balance swung? In my time I would roughly apportion my leisure hours as follows: Sport 40% (mainly football and cricket), television 15%, fantasy games 15%, outdoor activities 15%, (other than football and cricket), reading 10%, collecting 5% (coins, stamps, cards).
For Dude I estimate it’s more like this: Outdoor activities 45%, computer 25% (also Playstation and internet), television 15%, DVD and video 5%, fantasy games 5% (including cards), sport 5%. He does a little reading, but I wouldn’t say it’s a leisure activity for him yet; it’s usually school work.
I guess a conclusion to be drawn here is that boys today live their fantasies through computers and electronic games, whereas I made up my own world.
I can’t say if this negatively affects their creativity or imagination. I’m sure there are experts who have opinions on that.
There’s certainly a danger that kids today could spend too much time indoors and be unfit as a consequence. Dude has a pretty good balance though.
Bible bashed
Jesus said: “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Mat 19:14).
We had a situation today where Jesus went to the child instead of the child going to him. James was crawling around the ironing board and tugged on it to pull himself up. In doing so, the ironing board (which serves as a table during the day) tilted, causing a Bible to fall off and hit James on the head.
I don’t know if we should read anything into this. It’s a minor miracle though that James didn’t suffer any injury.
The right to vote
The Federal Government passed legislation a month ago that bars prisoners from voting if they’re serving terms of three years or more. The restriction previously applied to terms of five years.
The rationale was that prisoners are not “fit and proper” to vote.
I find this rather extraordinary. Forget about the question of whether prisoners should be allowed to vote; just consider who is “fit and proper” to exercise democratic rights.
Football commentator Rex Hunt made an interesting observation last week. Reviewing the incident where St Kilda supporters stormed onto the ground after Fraser Gehrig’s 100th goal, he said: “The scary thing is that these morons will be voting in a couple of weeks”.
There are many people in our society who arguably aren’t fit and proper to vote.
I’ve always believed that voting should not be compulsory. Australia is one of the few countries in the world in which people are compelled to vote. That’s anti-democratic in itself.
My personal view is that the best form of government would be a meritocracy. People should be required to earn the right to vote through their education and contribution to society and the economy.
No country will ever go down this path though, because of the complexity in deciding rules of merit, and the discrimination factor.
Magpie avoidance strategy
I’ve devised and implemented a new magpie avoidance strategy. Key elements include:
1) Stay away from places where swooping birds are numerous and/or aggressive.
2) I’ve mapped out and trialled a new 4km running route that avoids all known swoopers. It extends to the fire shed and back, then to the Roberts Creek bridge and back.
3) I carry a flag on low-risk swooping routes, ie to Bright and back. There’s been one threatening location near the golf course, which I’ve successfully navigated.
Magpie menace worsens
Magpies are winning the battle to keep me off the road and rail trail. There are swooping birds in every direction.
It used to be safe heading to the golf course, but Juliet and Kathleen have both been swooped there in the past couple of days.
After my bad experience riding to Eurobin, I tried cycling up the Buckland Valley today instead, thinking the open farmland would reduce nesting opportunities.
How wrong I was. Michelini’s vineyard was magpie city, with literally hundreds of birds. These weren’t my problem though. I was attacked by a particularly aggressive creature near Hillside farm. On the way out he came at me five times and wasn’t deterred when I stared to face him. In fact, he changed tactics and came at me from ground level.
On the return leg I carried a big stick and he only swooped me twice. The bad thing is the paranoia these few swoopers create. You begin to fear assault from every bird in the sky. The passing shadow of a sparrow becomes menacing.
Another cyclist spoke to me about the adrenaline rush, which I concur with.
I’ve been reading some government web sites about magpies tonight and it seems they’re likely to carry on this behavior until November, or maybe finish in October if I’m lucky.
I’ll just have to carry a stick on all rides. I’ve mapped out a new run through the town and will avoid the rail trail for a few weeks.
A couple of sites recommend getting off the bike and walking past them, but my instinct is to get out of their territory as quickly as possible!
Recent comments
- Sue: mmmmmm… *drool* Tim Taaaammmmmsssss Heaven in a rectangle. Sues most recent article …Accents to...
- Michael: Congratulations Sue. That was the 1000th comment on this site. You win a Tim Tam.
- Sue: One more reason to love your country… awesome plate! Sues most recent article …Feeling Disconnected
- Angela Aguilar: READ CAREFULLY Hi to all, My name is angela and im one of the reservation of TIMESHARE here in the...
- Stephan Miller: Cool. I have tried so many ways around the javascript in post issue. I went as far as using an ad...
Links
Random posts
Archives
Useful stuff
