2006 September « the other side of the mountain

Starry-eyed

26 September 2006 at 2:49 pm | In Random observations | 29 Comments

I went to the Planetarium over the weekend.

My previous visit to the star-spangled dome was during a school outing+ and I recall quite vividly the sense of awe I felt – as if I was entering a hi-tech cathedral. There was a definite aspect of the sacred to this quiet space with its muted lighting, arcane equipment and plush Starship Enterprise seats. Of course, a major contributing factor to the religious tone of the place was probably the threat of dire retribution should anyone dare misbehave.

Much has changed. The machinery and seats are still original equipment (and really beginning to show their age), but the entranced hush of the audience is definitely a thing of the past. To kids who have grown up in a world of Playstations, the Planetarium can’t rate much higher than a moth-eaten fedora. The majority of youngsters attending the show were more focussed on their conversations than the constellations. It seems likely that many of them were there not so much out of an interest in the night sky, but because Mom Said So. The resident astronomer had a torrid time of it trying to make himself heard over the dull roar.

Nevertheless, my companion and I still managed to enjoy the experience. It was cheesy, but in a good way – kind of reminiscent of the decayed and outdated charm of the funfair (but without the ever-present scent of pony dung).

+ In other words, it was some time towards the end of the Cretaceous Period

Anticipation and dread

21 September 2006 at 2:59 pm | In Relationship ruminations | 32 Comments

Good news: I HAVE A DATE!

Continue reading Anticipation and dread…

Batwoman returns

20 September 2006 at 8:11 am | In Weird neighbours | 28 Comments

Way back in the early days of the Kyknoord Chronicles, I made mention of The Bat. Although this supremely annoying individual doesn’t quite qualify for the title of “bane of my existence”+, she does manage to incorporate all that is irritating about communal living in one liver-spot bespeckled package. She is about two thousand years old and her longevity can only be explained as final definitive proof of an afterlife: nobody wants her.

I’ve been able to avoid her quite successfully in recent months, but yesterday morning I wasn’t so fortunate. She accosted me as I was leaving for work and began yammering at me in her fingernails-on-glass voice to “leave her post-box alone”. I have no clue what she was on about, but I can only assume that somewhere up in the senile lump of cream cheese that masquerades as her brain, a lone neuron must have discovered the cooking sherry and had a bit of a blowout.

The really irksome part of this little episode is that she is almost completely deaf, so “Fuck you, Grandma!” just doesn’t have the impact it should.

+ That honour is reserved for any member of the legal fraternity that happens to be dealing with my divorce at the moment.

Heir-line cracks

18 September 2006 at 8:16 am | In Human weirdness | 25 Comments

I think it’s perhaps time I gave dear ol’ Dad a turn in the spotlight.

Kyknoord Senior has two modes of operation: on and asleep. The man is completely incapable of loafing and the simple pleasure of indulging in a little recreational indolence is totally lost on him.

He takes a keen interest in sport, but he can only enjoy a game on television if he’s keeping himself busy with something else, like gardening. He bridges the divide between these two seemingly incompatible activities by strolling in from outside every so often to check the score (usually leaving a trail of muddy footprints in his wake) and then immediately heading back out to continue raking leaves from one side of the lawn to the other. I once suggested to him that a portable radio might simplify matters (and simultaneously reduce my mother’s blood pressure to acceptable levels), but he insisted that he likes to “watch the match”. Activity is the important thing here. Efficiency and logic don’t really feature in his world.

I have long suspected that I am a bitter disappointment to him, as I positively excel in inactivity and on occasion, have even been known to dabble in logic.

He finds an outlet for his apparently boundless energy by having numerous ~~arse-brained~~ interesting projects on the go at any given time. In one of his schemes, he decided to plant a tomato garden on the garage roof. To his way of thinking, tomatoes need sun and there’s plenty of sun up there – ergo it is the ideal spot for tomatoes. The truth of the matter is that while tomatoes do need sun, they also require shelter from the wind. Since my dad managed to locate his fledgling tomato empire in what is quite possibly the windiest spot on the face of the planet, his success has been somewhat limited. In the two years that this venture has been going, his crop has yielded up a grand total of three shrivelled and poisonously sour specimens.

Nevertheless, despite his obvious lack of agricultural prowess, his enthusiasm remains undimmed. He still continues to have high hopes of becoming the next tomato baron of the Deep South, so every day – come rain or shine – you’ll see him up there, lovingly tending his shredded charges.

Please note: this is one of the people I got to see daily during my formative years, so if my outlook on life is a little bit – shall we say – off-centre, I believe I have an excuse.

One – Nil

15 September 2006 at 8:26 am | In Philosophical meanderings | 19 Comments

During my ~~hippie gym~~ yoga class earlier this week, the instructor decided that my classmates and I were in need of some additional enlightenment. Apparently, a weekly get-together and sing-along+ doesn’t quite cut the mustard on the spiritual advancement scale, so he began to harangue us on the “oneness” of all things.

Now when you get down to a really fundamental level you’ll find that people, rocks, breakfast cereals, Bacardi Breezers, snakes on planes and so forth, are all pretty much made of the same stuff endlessly recycled – so this actually isn’t a really tough concept to grasp. However, our all-knowing yogi chose to illustrate his point by telling us that the various forms of divination – i.e. palmistry, phrenology, bone throwing, cartomancy etc. – are all really one and the same. When I heard this, I couldn’t help nodding and smiling and this drew the instructor’s attention.

“I see you nodding and smiling. So you agree, Mr Kyknoord?”
“Oh definitely”
“But you are normally suspicious of such matters and yet now you agree that there is a oneness to these things?”
“Yes. It’s ALL a load of balls”

+ essentially, a few rousing choruses of “Om”. Very easy to learn if you aren’t much of a singer