Ten-pin bowling

I am very fortunate to work for a company that really cares about the welfare of its staff. I don’t particularly like my job, but that is not the fault of those who hire me.

The Managing Director likes to keep us all happy, so he organises regular outings. This time it was ten-pin bowling, with all expenses paid.

I was a little apprehensive about going. Apart from being nervous about driving to a strange place during rush-hour, I am not very good at any activities involving a ball and any sort of skill. I was concerned that people might be too competitive, and get annoyed with me.

I need not have worried. My GPS unit guided me safely to the venue, and my work colleagues were only there to have some fun.

My bowling skills were pretty much the same as most of the others. I had one embarrassing moment when the ball slipped out of my hand during the backward swing and landed with a heavy thud behind me. It gave everyone a good laugh.

I could not help reflecting on how unfair life is. Some people there were just naturally talented, while others, like me, really had to try hard. My manager is extremely good at his job, but he could also send that ball down the alley with amazing accuracy. Why are some people good at everything they do, while others have to really struggle?

I discovered that bowling can be great fun if you are with the correct people. There is such a feeling of achievement when you get a strike, especially when the others cheer you on. I managed to get one strike, and that was enough to make me happy.

I think I should take Mother Superior bowling with me one day. That might please her.

My secret

I have decided to come out of the closet, and reveal a terrible secret that I have been trying to hide all of these years.

What is this secret? Is it, maybe, that I like to dress in women’s clothes? Am I addicted to certain drugs? Am I a dangerous psycopath?

No. It is far far worse. I have to admit that I have no interest in any organised sport.

I will give you a moment to take your breath as the shocking revelation hits home. Yes, I find it very difficult to get interested in any organised sport, particularly where professional athletes are involved. I really envy those people who dress up in their team’s colours and attend matches, and display near hysterical joy or sadness when a big man, with whom they have no connection whatsover, kicks a ball between two posts.

I am sorry, but I just don’t get it. A football team, which is actually a business, hires (at great expense) a person who has the ability to run fast and accurately kick a ball. For some reason, this person’s progress becomes very important in people’s lives. This fast running ball kicking person is regarded as an expert in everything, and companies pay him vast sums of money to promote their products, which can be anything from washing powder to mobile phones.

Why is it a great honour for the country when someone, who happens to live in Australia, can swim a nano-second faster than other people?

I have tried to hide this terrible secret by endeavouring to keep up with sport discussions at parties and barbecues. I avidly watch the sport section on the TV newscasts, and desperately try to remember snippets of information that I can later use to contribute in discussions. Unfortunately, I have been caught out on occasions. Many times, I have been introduced to someone who, on detecting my South African accent, will come out with  something like “You guys are not doing to well in the cricket”. When I respond with a blank look, I get met with a mixture of pity and contempt. The look of absolute revulsion on the person’s face shows that I am a social outcast in his eyes and not worthy of any further interraction. I have seen people make a dash for the toilet; no doubt to be sick.  I may be knowledgable about many things, but it is absolutely unforgiveable to know nothing about the cricket.

Why do I have this serious affliction? I think it comes from my school days. I went to a CBC, which had a fixation on sport achievement. I successfully represented the school in speech making and singing, but that was not good enough to get an Honours Blazer. Only sporting achievements were recognised. I really tried to be participate in the sporting activities, but without any success. I tried cricket, soccer, rugby, athletics, tennis, swimming and softball, but always got chased away by an irate sports teacher. I lost interest in playing any sport, so I find to impossible to relate to any of the sporting events today.

Unfortunately, today, the highest accolade you can give a person is that they are very active in playing or following sport. Anyone who is not is regarded as being a bit wierd.

What can I do about it? I am afraid there is nothing. Rather than risk being relegated to leper status, I will simply have to continue to nod my head and pretend to be interested when standing with a group of guys at a function while they are earnestly discussing the relative merits of some football players that I have never heard of, while wishing I could join the ladies in their really interesting conversations.

Ah well…..

“Mother Superior dear, what was the name of the toothpaste that the test match cricketer recommends? We should get some, because he would know what he is talking about. After all, he is good at sport.”

The Cruise

This is my first real post, so I am still trying to find my way. Please be kind.

The Mother Superior and I have not been big holiday makers. We have always regarded going away on holiday as an expensive way of avoiding doing work around the house. As a result, we have made our beachside home as pleasant as possible, so we feel that we do not need to go away to have a relaxing holiday. I am also quite capable of avoiding work without feeling too guilty about it.

We have made visits to Sydney to see our relatives, including my parents, but these could not really be regarded as holidays, because, with one enjoyable exception, we have always stayed with family. My family in Sydney have always been very welcoming and accommodating, but I have always felt that I am inconveniencing them, particularly because I refuse to drive in Sydney. This has made these visits very stressful for both the Mother Superior and me.

Anyway, Mother Superior was starting to get restless. She wanted a proper holiday, and threatened to take a “Granny Tour” down south on her own. I told her to organise something for us, but she was reluctant to, for fear I would not enjoy it, and then ”I would carry on like a pork chop”.

Ever since I was very young, and had seen relatives off from Durban on the Union Castle ships, I have always longed to go to sea. So, I thought we would try a cruise. I heard that P&O had replaced the aging Pacific Sky with the Pacific Dawn (formerly the Regal Princess), and were offering good deals on the inaugural cruises. I booked a cruise on the Internet, opting for the cheapest outside cabin, which was on the Fiesta deck.

In anticipation of the cruise, I looked up all the web-sites on the Pacific Dawn, and saw that the cabin we had booked was on a deck below all the passenger decks, and had bunk beds and a porthole. I got a bit worried, and suggested to Mother Superior that we try to upgrade. Mother Superior does not like to get “negative” suggestions, so she got a bit shitty, and told me not to bother.

As the cruise drew near, I developed a raging tooth-ache, which frequent visits to my dentist and expensive treatment from an endodontist did not relieve. On the day before the cruise, I saw another dentist in Sydney, who gave me a prescription for an antibiotic.

The day of the cruise arrived. I awoke that morning praying that it would be cancelled. I was worried about my tooth-ache and the cheapness of our cabin. Thankfully, my prayers were not answered.

We took the Manly and Darling Harbour ferries to get to the Pacific Dawn.  The massive ship was an impressive and intimidating sight from the ferry. People were taking photos of it, and I started to feel somewhat smug, thinking we were soon going to board her, even though we were in steerage.

We were pleasantly surprised when we were upgraded to an outside cabin on Dolphin deck. As soon as we boarded, we stepped into a magical world. Lunch was being served on the Lido deck – and what a spread it was.

After a somewhat half-hearted life-boat drill, the ship set sail. As the gap between the wharf and the ship widened, I could not believe it was actually happening. I was fulfilling my lifelong dream of going to sea, and I got quite emotional. The ship gave the three blasts of the horn and one of the bands, Flare, started playing. It was a really happy moment, and I forgot my tooth-ache. Best of all, I got the impression that Mother Superior was pleased.

Well, the cruise exceeded all expectations. It was a wonderful, relaxing holiday. The ship’s crew, including the cabin stewards, waiters and entertainment staff were extremely professional. I could not fault any of them.

We never got to see the captain. Every now and again this little Italian voice would come out of the tannoy to make announcements about the course and the weather, but that was all. The cruise director and the maitre’d were the people who appeared to hold the reins where the passengers were concerned.

Every meal we had in the dining room, we were seated with different people, and we had some interesting conversations.  We discovered that many of our fellow passengers had done multiple cruises, and were somewhat surprised and sympathetic when they heard that we were on our first. One (rather large) person was on his thirtieth cruise, and was booked on the very next cruise out of Sydney.

It dawned on me that you either love or hate cruising. If you are prone to motion sickness, you will hate it. Those that love it become addicted – and why not? Cruising is a form of escapism. You leave the real world with all its problems, stress and nastiness, and join this phantasy world, where everyone is friendly, and you can just relax and enjoy what is on offer. This can be seen in the attitude of passengers towords one another. We were quite happy to share a dining room table with total strangers, when we would not dream of doing so normally.

The problem is that it all comes to an end, and you are left standing on  the shore having to, once again, face reality. That is why many people immediately book another cruise. There are many online forums where people can compare ships and make suggestions about cruising.  All those who take part in these forums display an impressive list of  cruises they have been on, and those that are booked.  They often have roll calls to see who will be going on the same cruises.

As for me. I am well and truly hooked, and I am already researching a possible cruise next year. I just hope that the Mother Superior is equally as interested, and will be pleased with the next cruise we go on.

Until next time.

 

Hello world!

I have finally taken the plunge, and decided to blog. Why? you may ask. At the moment I feel I have much to say and no one to listen to me. My wife of some 32 years, whom I love dearly, is starting to get tired of my comments, which she says tend to be on the negative side. Who can blame her? I think I can be quite boring. The beauty of blogging is that people can take it or leave it, but I have had the chance to express myself.

For those who don’t know me, I am a 55 year old grandfather. I have a loving wife and three adult children, who have all married well - so I now have six children. One of my sons and his lovely wife have presented us with a delightful granddaughter, and there is talk of another on the way.

My wife (henceforth to be known as Mother Superior) and I live in a comfortable house in a beachside suburb in Perth, Western Australia. My second son (who we will call muti man) and his wife (to be known as Gifted One) are currently living with us while their house is being built.

It all sounds quite ordinary. I hope I can create some interesting blogs