another variation

 my entire childhood

my father

was always at me

about the lego

"its all over the house"

he would say

"its in every room"

he would say

I thought he was mad

exagerating in that way

that adults

sometimes do

and one day

when I was probably too old

he gave it all

to the childrens hospital.

Now i live in a house

and if you cast a glance

there is lego in every room.

and I find myself

telling my son to clean the lego

"its all over the house"

"its in every room"

and i'm reminded about that split ends song

history never repeats

I tell myself

before I go to sleep

except for the lego

the conundrum

woke up this morning to discover

that all my muscles hurt

my neck is stiff and my 

lower spine is hard

what did I do?

sure saturday golf was fun

and saturday night was a blast.

perhaps it was the extra aperol spritz

something in the course of events

let me to think

it would be a good idea to 

try some moves from my youth

you know the ones

handstand push ups

one armed handstands

fire-mans lifts of 100kg blokes.

now sunday was a relaxed day

in the spanking sunshine

on the rug on the lawn

with a beer or two.

monday however is a different story

did I play full tackle football recently?

why does everything hurt.

and then the moment of realisation.

you are in fact getting older

you cant do what you used to do

and get away with it

without consequences.

and therein

lies the rub

a timely reminder that although

I still feel like this

I'm obviously

not the same guy.

or rather I am the same guy

I'm just getting older

and subconsciously isn't it about time

I admitted it?

naah

fuck that.

who can I carry next.

tee up

There are so many references

in a life spent with eachother.

dad and I play golf.

he's great with the occasional dud shot

I'm dud with occasional greatness.

playing today on a spankingly beautiful winters sunday

standing in the middle of the fairway

in the middle of a beautiful golf club

in the middle of the greatest city in earth

turning to him and raising my arms to the azure sky

I smiled and said

"this is another fine mess you got me into"

and in that ironic way it was true.

you see it was a family day

and dad and I were out there hacking our way round 18 holes

with another grandfather and his grandson

and not playing too well, but loving it.

people bag golf

elitist, obsessive compulsive

uppity and pointless

a place for wankers.

but they miss one of its central points

golf is a metaphor for life.

its difficult, long, you often fuck up a shot

and in the end you only play yourself.

its also only about

relationships. 

4 hours, no phones, no distractions

and only exercise and conversation

meditation

philosophy

self control

and obviously with my dad its about love.

not bad for a stupid

impossible game

where you can spend hours putting a white ball

in a little hole.

one time

just that one time

if you never learn to swim, and you fall in the water

if you don't learn to drive and you hit a slippery patch

if you don't learn self defense and get attacked

if you don't learn to read 

and miss the turnoff

to life

to love

to happiness.

everything is important

sometimes only once

so perhaps its important

to keep learning then..

blind faith

recently

my mind has found a disturbing similarity

between religion and medicine.

both, in abstract terms you could say

have the best interests of humanity at heart

but in the real world

where interest is often not of the heart

both fail in spectacular and 

relatively

unaccountable ways

despite preaching love

religion employs the language of hate and 

division.

medicine has the monopoly on health

but should it?

c'mon now, time to 

come clean.

after teaching us for the last 40 years

that fat is bad

it turns out all along that its sugar and carbs

that are the bad guys lurking in plain view

giving you

dementia,

diabetes,'

obesity,

heart disease,

cancer,

but just try eating modern food without them

stop buying anything in a packet

give up the humble sandwich, pasta, pastry, muffin

go on a road trip and try to avoid them, 

i dare you.

the sad fact is you cant.

i've tried.

lets talk about cancer.

and chemotherapy.

i've seen my patients waste away

the life sucked out of them

by medically assisted and ridiculously expensive

chemotherapy.

i read posts on facebook

and articles in the paper

on the brave fight

of those poor desperate people

who succumb.

but what really kills them?

is it the cancer

or is it the saviour?

everyone has a theory

and i have spoken to the chemists, the oncologists

the saviours.

they admit that in many instances

all they are dispensing

is a form of hope

in the face of death.

its expensive, toxic, barely survivable

and righteous.

just dont talk about natural therapy

because that stuff has no scientific evidence 

to back it up.

and if you dont do what the doc says

you are going to die.

(although if you do, you'll die as well)

don't read the fine print, 

don't ask too many hard questions.

had a patient in last week

talking about breast cancer

he said he had two friends

both of whom were diagnosed

the one that chose conventional medicine 

is dead.

the other who was abused for not 

taking the conventional route

is alive.

ask yourself why the survival rate is 

5 years?

why dont they publish the rate for

10 years?

not such good statistics.

obviously we all must make 

the choice.

and obviously there are certain cancers that are treatable

and there are some that aren't.

its a duck shoot. 

steve winwood sang

Seems I got to have a change of scene

Cause every night I have the strangest dream

Imprisoned by the way, yeah, it could’ve been

Left here on my own or so it seems

I got to leave before I start to scream

But someone's locked the door and took the key

Feelin' alright, (uh oh)

Not feelin' too good myself, (uh oh) 

Feelin' alright, (uh oh)

Not feelin' that good myself, (uh oh)

Boy you sure took me for one big ride

Even now I sit and I wonder why

And when I think of you I stop myself from cryin’

I Just can’t waste my time I must get by

Got to stop belivin' in all your lies

Cause there’s too much to do before I die

Feelin' alright, (uh oh)

Not feelin' too good myself, (uh oh) 

Oh no, Feelin' alright, (uh oh)

Not feelin' that good myself, (uh oh)

(Feelin’ alright) Don't you get too lost in all I say

Yeah, but at the time you know I really felt that way

But that was then and now you know it’s today

I can't escape I guess I'm here to stay

’til someone comes along to take my place

With a different name and a different face

blind fucking faith

post modern porn

a new gallery opening

a new art exhibition

of nudes

and yes you guessed it

mostly women

wandering around with the kids

I wondered where does the titillation stop

and the art begin

and when you are presented 

with that expanse of female flesh

what is art?

yogagirl said they were all hackneyed images

miles informed me that all his classmates 

would love to come and see the naked bodies

and elsa

she just pointed out the ones with flowers

once again

beauty or lack thereof

in the eye of the 

beholder.

and I wondered..

If you were to purchase a work of art

such as these

where in gods name would you hang it

the living room?

the bedroom?

best left to the imagination

(another form of) subtraction

 2013

-1971

_____

a funny thing happened on the way to bed last night

for the third night in a row

mathematics came for a visit

and Miles was not happy to see him.

Subtraction

the fine art of taking something away 

and leaving something behind

but how do you do it?

borrow one on the top

pay it back on the bottom

right?

or t least that's how I do it.

I had made an assumption

that because I had learnt that way

that was the way it was done

and therefore everybody did it that way.

Wrong!

Yogagirl was taught to scrub out 

the numbers as you go

and Miles was understandably confused.

I'm not saying its

my way or the highway.

but I learnt something pretty

fundamental.

our knowledge and how we acquired it

is totally unique

and there is always more than one way

to skin a cat.

which I guess is another form 

of subtraction.