Fear

Fear is a powerful emotion. Great leaders have used it as a rallying cry to guide their people through difficult periods, recognizing its potential to distract and disable them. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s now immortal words from his first inaugural address still ring true, “So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is...fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

In contrast, infamous tyrants have used fear to justify actions that history condemns without qualification. In deference to Godwin’s law, Hitler’s most cunning weapon was to fan flames of fear against Jews and other races that were perceived to threaten his people. The terror that could paralyze is cultivated into a frenzy that enables unspeakable horrors.

However it is shaped, fear is an ever-present emotion that evokes strong actions. The primal nature of fear is a key element of survival. In the absence of social contracts that moderate human behavior, fear would be a constant that heightens awareness and senses to the many unknown dangers faced in a hazardous environment. Without the consequences of immorality, fear would lead to the demise of the “other” when the “self” is at risk.

Fear does, and always will have a place in a human world. Despite the vast amount of knowledge now available with a click, much is unknown and dangers are very real. Death, whether the end of a consciousness or a transition into a new one, is an irrevocable conclusion to the most cherished of possessions – life. As the vigilant guardian of this possession, fear is a consequence of it.

For societies that have known peace and lived in a world where fear is not a daily concern, the role of fear can be much more precarious. When fear is unfamiliar, the ability to cope with it and harness its power towards a chosen outcome is diminished. Rather, fear often becomes a yoke that is used to the advantage of others to the detriment of the “self”. A person’s will is lost when they subscribe to the fear monger’s ambitions. With such potential, the responsibility to study and understand one’s own fears has never been greater.

In the aftermath of 9/11, the United States was gripped by fear. When George W. Bush stood on the rubble of the Trade Towers he vowed to bring justice to those who had caused such horror. At that defining time in the nation’s history, fear could have been harnessed to guide people through tragedy; or, as it was, used to justify actions in the name of survival.

Since that time fear mongering has become a norm in the United States. For a media that preys on strong emotions to buoy a bottom line, fear is a means to raise the number of views and appease sponsors. In a political world, it can also translate into votes. However, even tyrants aware of fear’s power and skilled in its exploitation are eventually the victims of its venom.

As Donald Trump now stands on top of a platform built and cultivated by the Republican Party for more than a decade (or most political parties nowadays it seems), he is the inevitable conclusion of their fear mongering. His rallying cry fans the flames of fear, reassuring those who support him that what they are feeling was meant to empower him. In reality, when leaders use fear for their own purposes, they defeat the “others” that bestowed them with such power and are left to face the self-correcting wrath of human morality alone.

As these words flow from my early morning brain, I am both disappointed that my homeland has been intoxicated by fear and seduced by those who are using it for their own benefit. I yearn for leaders with a vision that hopes for a better future. I mourn the loss of the sense of purpose and community, but understand that without challenge and opposition the deep roots that ground us will be too shallow to protect from future storms.

However these words come to light, and I hope they are not in vain, I challenge you to know your fear. Accept it for what it is, and be wary of those who would make it grow within you. Fear does have a purpose, to make you aware of others so that you know they are there. What you choose to do then is what makes you human or an animal.

I never expected

I never expected it to be hard, but I didn’t expect it to be easy.

I never expected that it would take so long, but come so quickly.

I never expected all the fear, but also the security.

I just never expected.

The truth is that it’s never this or that, its somewhere in between.

The fairy tale life you’ve dream about will never have its sheen.

Normal is the ups and downs, the fights and cuddles, the uninterested and keen.

None of it expected.

What I wanted was only the part that was good and true.

I wanted something that was forever, undying, and without limit too.

They said it would be consume; it would burn inside – like a fire of blue.

It was what I expected.

With the good and true came the bad and the lies

That sometimes felt like forever, decaying - beyond my limits of compromise.

I was consumed, but by thoughts of doubt and feelings in disguise.

Too much expected.

But like a seed that’s planted takes time to root, and sprout, and grow –

A life with another takes time to study, and learn, and know.

Patience, understanding, willingness, consideration, a bit of quid pro quo;

Can be expected.

Expect the hard and easy, the long and quick, fear and security.

Expect the fairy tale, the horror story, and even some drama and comedy.

Expect all that’s good and bad, the truth and lies, and time for maturity.

Just don’t expect it to be what you expected.

Lolly medicine

I realised something this week - there's a reason that cherry flavours aren't abundant in Australia. (Yeah, I know they have cherry ripe.) Only recently did I find a bottle of grenadine, something which is in almost every supermarket in the States, usually next to the peanuts. Grenadine makes a nice cherry flavoured drink when you mix in some Sprite (Australian lemonade) on a hot summer day.  Sure you're just making cherry 7-up, but it's nice to be able to control the proportions. In Australia they have cordial, which is a flavoured syrup used in the same way as grenadine, but they don't have any in the cherry flavour.

This epiphany only happened when I offered some Twizzlers to a work colleague.  Normally they are strawberry flavoured, but in the care package Grandma sent they were cherry.  They have licorice over here, just not ramped up on sugar to the same level as in the States. When I offered some to my work friend she first commented that they had no taste. After another work friend inspected the package, read the label to confirm that there was a lot of sugar, she then commented, "Oh, it smells like medicine." Suddenly the other friend who had been eating a piece agreed, "Yeah, it does taste like medicine."  In that moment I had my answer for why cherry flavouring in Australia would never be a success.

In the pharmaceutical companies' rush to make their products more palatable for children, they have plagued a whole portion of the lolly industry with an undesired stigma.  Never again will and Australian child say that their medicine tastes like lollies.  Nay, their once pleasant cherry lollies now all taste like medicine.  The puzzle for me now, though, is why do American children not have the same reaction?

Cakes to feed angels

When I was growing up my Grandma made angel food cakes for Easter. I'm not sure how many times she actually did this, but I remember it on more than one occasion. I think once or twice she may have decorated it with coconut shavings coloured green to imitate grass, with jelly beans to look like Easter eggs. Regardless of how many times she made it, I remember liking it a lot. I'm not sure if it was the fluffy cake, or the cream cheese frosting that made it so good. Eventually she started making the cakes just for me. Now when I go back to visit it's often a request (along with Pete's Fish and Chips burritos).

A month or two ago Grandma sent me a package and, per my request, included angel food cake mix and tubs of cream cheese frosting. The cake mix hasn't seemed to come to Australia yet, but while I wasn't looking the cream cheese frosting has. When I first moved here you couldn't find the tubs of frosting very easily, but now you can get vanilla, chocolate, and cream cheese.  Woot! Even if I couldn't get it at the store I had the tubs Grandma sent. The only thing I needed was the pan.

The pan problem was a little tougher to solve. I tried looking for it at some kitchenware shops here, but apparently angel food cake isn't on offer very often. Fortunately the internet proved helpful.  I found a pan being sold from a kitchen supply wholesaler, but they had to be bought in lots of six. The internet being more than just a one-outlet-town, I found another option that seemed to work. Thanks Harvey Norman! An order on Sunday meant that the pan was delivered by Tuesday.

With all the mixes, tubs, and pans at the ready I was prepared to have a go at making my first angel food cake. The preparation is really simple, add water and mix. The batter is very frothy and light, and it's amazing that just adding water does that. I read on the box not to use a pan smaller than 10" x 4", so I split the batter into two pans, trying to estimate how much I would need to fill the proper angel food cake pan. I was a bit worried as it was cooking, but it settled a bit when I took it out of the oven and I think it turned out alright.

A bit of the bottom corners came off the cake as I was cutting it from the pan, but it appears to have cooked through properly. The colour seemed right, and everything looked encouraging. Just needed to add the frosting.

 

I wasn't sure how soft the cake would be, and the frosting had been in the fridge, so I warmed it up a bit first before spreading it on the cake.  Things seemed to be working fine.  Could it be that I had an Easter cake here in Australia??

 

Yep.  It's a little lop-sided because the edges came off, but it tasted great. I guess now I need to make sure my angel food cake mix dealer back in the States keeps my supply topped up. I hear angel food cake is good for trifles.

Australia, land ho!

When I first moved to Australia in February 2009, I had no idea what I was getting into.  I'd never been here before.  Yes, I moved to a country I had never even visited.  How's that for adventure? Fortunately, it was a great gamble and has turned out really well.

This week I was looking back through some of my posts and pictures and re-read this one: Brisbane, the next great adventure On that post I included some pictures of my trip Down Under. One of them was a photo of the first bit of Australian land that I saw out the window of the plane.  In case you didn't click the link, here it is again:

I've lived in Australia for more than 4 years now and I started wondering what I had seen out the window on my first flight. There were a few distinctive features.  Obviously it was a coast line. There appeared to be some sort of headlands that went down to the water's edge.  You can make out a sandy patch within the forest behind the beach.  If you look really closely you can see some houses.  I also realised that I took this not too long before we landed, so it had to be pretty near to Brisbane. Well, after a little bit of sleuthing I think I've found it.


View Larger Map
And the answer is... Point Lookout, Queensland. This is the northern most tip of Stradbroke Island, in Moreton Bay. The little town is pretty much due East of Brisbane, and it makes perfect sense to have flown over it on the way in. Looks like we flew in, headed a little south of Brisbane and then landed at the airport. I've actually stayed there since flying over it the first time, Christmas holiday 2011. Kinda cool to go back and solve a mini mystery like that.

Probabilities and pseudoscience pundits

I often think back to my statistics classes when reaching for a pair of socks every morning. Yes, the geek part of my brain is a permanent resident. Usually there are two types of socks in the box in the closet, and the lectures of probabilities run through my head after I retrieve the first sock.

"How many socks would you have to select from a box with X types of socks to ensure that you had a matching pair?"

Since I have two types of socks in the box, the answer is three.  If I selected three socks I would be guaranteed to have a pair, though I could get lucky and get a pair after only selecting two.  I won't go through the maths, but it makes sense if you think through each selection.  The first time I will get one of the two types.  The second time I will get one of the two types as well. Assuming I have mis-matched socks after two selections, the third is guaranteed to match one of the socks I've already selected.

The logic behind that is pretty sound.  You don't have to have a degree in statistics to understand those kinds of probabilities. They make sense to us because we experience them everyday, though I'm not sure everyone thinks about the maths of it when choosing socks.

A strange thing happened a few days ago that helped me understand this whole process a bit differently, and gave me a bit of insight into what scientists have been struggling with recently with the advent of the internet. As I drew my two socks from the box I thought, "Alright, now this next one is guaranteed to match." I was surprised to discover that I had draw a third type of sock from the box. Somehow the contents of the box had become "contaminated" and my rock solid laws of probability were spun into confusion.

Was my original probability wrong? Well, it was based on the assumption that there were only two types of socks in the box.  As long as that assumption was true, so was the probability. The moment it wasn't true - and there were more than two types in the box, the original probability changed. The key, though, is that it changed in a predictable way - but based on a new set of assumptions. With three types of socks I'd now have to draw four to ensure I had a pair.

This was an interesting parallel to my experience with some anti-science groups. They will often claim that science is flawed because it hasn't considered all of the options.  In other words, science can't guarantee there are only two types of socks in the box - so any attempts to explain how many attempts it would take to select a matching pair can't be trusted. Just like my unexpected discovery with the third type of sock, any possibility that there are other options - no matter how remote, is proof that the science is flawed. This is especially difficult to understand when the probabilities for things being talked about, like fluoride, cell phones and cancer, vaccinations, are more complex.  The science isn't just about how many socks you have to select to get a matching pair.

However, despite what the anti-science people may claim, the problem is not that the logic behind the probabilities is flawed. The issue I have with this is that from the anti-science point-of-view the discussion is not about recalibrating the original assumptions to account for what is constantly being discovered, it's a complete discounting of the whole process.  "This part of science is wrong because it can't guarantee that it's right," they might say.  Well, there aren't many guarantees in life.  I'd like a guarantee that I will never have to jump out of a plane or be struck by lightning, but the fact that I am alive on a volatile world means that I have to accept a certain level of risk. Besides, science is not supposed to be about absolute correctness, it changes all the time based on new knowledge and insight. When something is discovered that changes things, scientists go back to the original probabilities and say, "Hey, would you look at that!  There's another type of sock, and that means the number of selections has changed."

So when I selected that third type of sock a few days ago, I thought about how the new discovery didn't actually ruin the years of statistical learning.  Rather, I wondered how it got in there and threw off my expectations. The box should have had two types, and somehow this one got in where it shouldn't have been. When I sorted it into the proper box my original assumption was true again.  I wonder if we will ever get back to a more adaptive kind of logic in popular discussions about science. I certainly don't want to live in a world of either / or's... gray can be such a lovely color.

Monkey spheres - social media and the life of a sedentary nomad

Back in June 2007, I stumbled across a website about monkey spheres. The original website is now gone, but the article has been ported over to the wonder that is Cracked.com  Take a moment and go have a read here: http://www.cracked.com/article_14990_what-monkeysphere.html  This is really a reintepretation of the Dunbar's Number concept.

I've been active in the computer world ever since the 5th grade when I found out that technology had solved the problem of getting all the words to fit nicely on each line as I type (word wrap). Since those formative years in elementary school I, along with so many others in my generation, have evolved along with the rest of the world into a digital existence. When social media came around in the early to mid naughts I was reluctant at first, but haven't turned back.

Today it is easier to connect with people than ever before.  I actually miss the days where you got bored, walked up the street and knocked on my friend's door to see if they could come out to play.  I wonder what my friends would do now if I came over without texting or calling first. The ease of connection means that my "lists" of friends also grows, many times without any further interactions than the silent stalking that happens on social media.

So in terms of monkey spheres, social media clearly entails different levels of interactions. I think that point of the article is quite clear. I occasionally go through and cull my lists, because my digital monkey sphere begins to feel a bit too crowded. However, there's something in this process that begins to feel like a good bye - which relates to another aspect of monkey spheres that I don't think was as well developed.

While a monkey sphere may have its limits in terms of the number of members it may have, not all of us have only one monkey sphere.  I've lived in several places, and I find that I now have multiple monkey spheres tied to those places, and to the different groups I was a part of while living there. While I try to port the more important people into my social media monkey sphere in hopes of keeping the real life relationship alive, at some point that monkey sphere gets too crowded and culled. I guess the sense of good bye is because if a person can't migrate into the "active" monkey sphere they become archived to memories.

This is all part of life I suppose. Possession may be 9 / 10's of the law, but proximity - even in a digital world - is also 9 / 10's of a relationship. I have many great friends that I still keep in touch with, but the older I get the more monkey spheres I make. At some point there is a limit.

I found myself thinking about all of this recently when trying to sort through the instant messenger applications I use.  So many entries that have failed to sign on for years.  I wonder if the program is broken, or if the monkey sphere has downsized. I appreciate social media for allowing the sliver of connection to exist, but even with all good intentions eventually those unmaintained connections are doomed to fade away.

Who knows who will read this post, though I imagine the only ones with any interest will be my friends. This wasn't intended to be a melancholy examination of friendships and relationships, but more a explanation of reality for a person who moves around. I'm so glad for all the different experiences I've been able to enjoy in my life. I just wish that my monkey spheres weren't so stuck in time and place.

A portrait of middle age

I guess it's probably time to dust this thing off. Seems like once you get stuck into a career the other things take a back seat. Things like updating blogs. That's probably because the days seem to fade into each other, and there doesn't seem to be much to write about. You know the routine, wake up, go to work, come home, eat, chill, sleep, repeat. I could write about my days at work, which are sometimes quite interesting - but it's likely a good thing that I don't since I shouldn't talk about some things in a public forum. Public servants are supposed to be neutral politically.

All that being said, I still think the blog is important. I won't add much to it this time around, but it's about inertia.  Once you get going it's easier to keep going.

This post is about a picture. Brendan drew it. He recently purchased a charcoal set, and has been having a go at unleashing his artistic side. Many artists draw what is right in front of them, and Brendan did just that. Unfortunately he captured me, at my typical position on the couch with the laptop. I can't imagine how many hours of my life over the last 4 years have been spent in exactly this position. Kinda makes me laugh and cry all at once. 

HACKED!

To anyone checking my blog, my email accounts were recently hacked. Please know that I am okay, safe and sound... and in no need of your money. What did I just say!!! Seriously, I'm fine. I hope that I have resolved whatever happened.

The end of an era

For whatever reasons that I'm not in the mood to research at the moment, Australians drive on the left side of the road. As an American I was afraid this change would be hard to adjust to, especially after my 12 post rant on left lane driving. However, the change has been much easier than I thought. The hardest parts are turning, because there aren't always clear visual clues about where to go, but then that can be hard even in America if you're at a busy intersection. After a few tries behind the wheel I felt pretty confident about my skillz as a driver in Australia.

I have been very fortunate to make many great and wonderful friends since I first arrived here over a year ago. One of those gracious friends has been Brendan, who took a risk and let me drive his car. I did eventually get a Queensland driver's license, even though I don't really need one while I'm here on student visa. Having a license doesn't really help you learn to drive here though, since the process is essentially completing an application form and paying the fee. (Yes, that's really all there is to it for American's who want to have one here in Queensland.)

Well, my luck was bound to run out eventually... and that it did on a nice January day earlier this year. I was driving back to the house after having a busy day of errands and school. Although I was a little anxious to get back to begin preparing a dinner for some friends coming over, I was in good spirits. I was driving along in the right lane about 5 kilometers (3.1 miles) away from the house when suddenly the car in front of me stopped. He was responding to the car in front of him who had suddenly stopped. That car was responding to some yellow car that had suddenly decided to turn right and slammed on the brakes because there was oncoming traffic. Yes, I was the tail end of three car fender bender.

I might pause to add that while Brendan was gracious in letting me drive his car, the car he was driving was a 1992 Mitsubishi Magna that was probably on it's last legs (or wheels as the case may be.) After 18 years the old girl didn't have the reflexes of the younger more agile wheeled transportation. While I stood on the brakes she didn't come to a stop until after bumping the fender of the car in front of me. All said, I think she ended up with more damage than the other two cars, which isn't saying too much if you look at these pictures:




Not knowing what damage had been done under the hood, Brendan decided not to drive it until having it looked at by a mechanic. I encouraged him to call his insurance company, despite some disagreement over whether the person responsible should file the claim or wait until the person affected has done it. The folks at his insurance place were quick and easy to deal with, and before long a truck had come by to get the car. Here's a photo of it's last moments.


Fortunately, Brendan had already decided to get a new car. He had actually already picked out the one he wanted and just needed to get the bank loan in order. In less than month a new car was in the driveway. Here's the proud owner with the updated wheels:


So all said it actually worked out for the best. He got a better deal from the insurance company than he would have trading it in or selling it to a wreckage yard. The bad part is that I was the cause of the old girl's demise. I have only driven the new car twice because I don't want to be the cause of any more damage to vehicles while I'm here.

The art of riding roller coasters

The first scary ride I can remember going on was the Zipper. The Catholic church across from my high school had a carnival every year to raise money. I remember being a bit nervous, but a friend of mine told me she would ride with me if I went. The only thing I can really remember is how funny her hair looked flatted against the padded headboard during the ride. We both laughed through the entire ride and my love for roller coasters was birthed then and there in that parking lot of the church.

I've since been to several amusement parks with roller coasters. Arizona had the former Legend City. Of course there was Disneyland, Six Flags - Magic Mountain, Knott's Berry Farm, all the major west coast attractions. In my adult years I've expanded to see Cedar Point and Hershey Park.

The last park is where a tradition was unwittingly created. A group of friends decided to ditch work and head up to Pennsylvania to enjoy the joy that is Hersey Park. We anxiously walked through the gates when the park opened and headed to the first ride we could locate, which happened to be an old wooden roller coaster. I casually cautioned one of my friends not to "scream like a girl." She seemed almost offended at the suggestion that implied she was anything less than eager to ride the coaster. Unfazed by her response I retorted, "Okay, then I will." I proceeded to scream my lungs out the entire ride making myself practically hoarse in the process. As the coaster came to a stop just in front of the boarding area I noticed many of the passengers looking back in our direction with smiles and teary eyes trying catch a glimpse of the person who seemed terrified. I realised on that ride that making people laugh and smile was not only fun, but memorable.

Fast forward to a new amusement park in another country last week. Movie World is a Warner Brothers attraction in Australia that attempts to mix the cinema industry with an amusement park setting. A little light on the cinema side if you ask me. Fortunately there were several rides to keep our interests alive. One of the guys with us isn't so hot on the scary stuff. He graciously stayed behind on some of the larger attractions to hold all the things in our pockets that were prohibited on the rides. Not one to be left out of the fun completely he identified a moderately scary ride he was willing to try. The Road Runner Roller Coaster is a ride where you can "join WILE E. COYOTE as he chases the ROAD RUNNER from the ACME Fireworks Factory through the Arizona Desert in an exciting journey of twists and turns, ups and downs. It's a fun and fast adventure for the whole family!" Of course... I screamed like a girl.

For me the irony of screaming like a girl on this ride is quite funny. The ride is designed for children after all. Needless to say my friend was hardly scared when he got off the ride, and we still laugh about it. However, we also laugh about the poor kids still standing in line. Those little guys were probably expecting to ride something made for them but because of my tradition sounded much scarier. Here's a video I took while on the ride to illustrate more effectively the results of this tradition of mine.

On writing, by Isaac Asimov

"There is writing which resembles the mosaic of glass you see in stained-glass windows. Such windows are beautiful in themselves and let in the light in colored fragments, but you can't expect to see through them. In the same way, there is poetic writing that is beautiful in itself and can easily affect the emotions, but such writing can be dense and can make for hard reading if you are trying to figure out what's happening.

"Plate glass, on the other hand, has no beauty of its own. Ideally, you ought not to be able to see it at all, but through it you can see all that is happening outside. That is the equivalent of writing that is plain and unadorned. Ideally, in reading such writing, you are not even aware that you are reading. Ideas and events seem merely to flow from the mind of the writer into that of the reader without any barrier between."

Board Game Geek

I've pretty much been playing games my whole life. Back in junior high school there was a club called the Gaming Society, where we'd stay after school to play games. The big thing at the time was Marshals & Myrmidons, a role playing game the teacher sponsoring the club had created. Of course the club was open for all types of games, but we didn't often play any others.

Even being in Australia I've found a group of friends who really enjoy playing games. I thought I was quite the gamer until I met these guys. Recently one of them told me about a great website called BoardGameGeek.com What is cool about it is that it has a pretty extensive database about almost every game I could think of, with a description, brief outline of rules, comments, ratings, etc. You can also create your own library of games, and then view them on your mobile phone.

Yes, I am a board game geek, but I'm sure everyone sits down to a game every now and then.

Do Not Call Lists

I just got an email saying my tax forms are ready for the 2009 year. I've been sitting here going through the forms and seeing if I have to pay or fill out any forms this year since I actually haven't made any money. Turns out I don't, in case you were wondering.

The process reminded me of a funny story I thought I'd share on my little blog here. A few years back I was driving through Baltimore City with some friends when I got a phone call. (NOTE: I know you're not supposed to talk on a cell / mobile phone and drive but this was back when everyone was much more stupid... if that's possible.) Being the good, focused driver I am... and with the radio and friends in the car I didn't quite hear what the person on the phone was saying. They sounded quite business-like, and I concluded the call was some kind of telemarketing pitch.

I responded, "Oh, no thank you. Can you please add me to your do not call list?"

After a pause I clearly heard the lady respond back, "Sir. This is the IRS. We don't have 'Do not call lists." She then laughed and repeated, "Do not call list..."

I immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road so I could focus all of my attention on her. Turns out she needed a form I had not included with my tax return and was calling to give me information on where to send it so my return could be processed. I was both shocked that the IRS was actually calling me (don't they normally send letters or scary men in suits and dark glasses to your place of work...) and that they were proactively attempting to help me complete my return in an efficient manner. Some businesses I have dealt with, I'm looking at you Comcast and Verizon, were far from proactive even when I was trying to give them money.

So just in case any of you are wondering, the IRS does not have a 'Do not call list.'

Great Australian Sandstorm

I guess since I don't update my blog as often as I should I probably can't expect there to be that many responses to my reader's poll. I'm happy that someone is reading it though... so easy to get lost in all that is the internet.

Australian Sandstorm it is. I've been trying to figure out how to write blog entries without them being chock-a-block of pictures, but how can you talk about something like this dust storm without pictures? (My internet miming skills are a bit rusty at this point.)

So without further adieu, here is my story. The night was dark and stormy. Winds swept through the maze of buildings that is Brisbane city, creating a faint howling sound that slowly slipped through the windows of my apartment. A solitary crow squawked in tree on the corner that could only mean something was about that happen. Sounds ominous, eh? None of that is true.

There real story is that there was really nothing unusual about the day when I woke up on the 23rd of September. I had a short list of errands to run, and some studying to do for classes at uni. I was in the midst of my morning rituals when I happened to notice the morning news a little more excited than usual. I looked up at the TV and noticed everything seemed a bit red. The news reader then told viewers "Do not adjust your set, this is an actual picture of the weather outside." To illustrate, check out this picture released after the storm on one of the news websites showing a before and after.

Fascinating. I watched for a few more minutes as they described how a storm had whipped up dust from the interior of Australia and was spreading it towards the eastern seaboard. Sydney, where most of the nationwide news broadcasts are located, was one of the first cities to be affected by the storm. According to the weathermen, Brisbane wouldn't be far behind. I then opened the blinds on my window to see if I had been mysteriously been transported to Mars during the night, and this is what I saw.


Clearly we had not yet arrived on Mars, but the sky was a bit more dusty that it typically is. Here's a picture I took shortly after getting to Brisbane to show you what I normally would see when looking out the same window.

I was a little apprehensive about venturing out into a weather event, but Arron's run errands, so I went. My first stop was to get a Queensland driver's license. As I got to the Motor Vehicles office I noticed the sky was turning more red and snapped a quick picture.


After a quick half-hour I was now the proud owner of an Australian driver's license. I ventured outside again and noticed the thick of storm was upon us. Walking through the city I took a few more pictures. These next two show you how bad it got in Brisbane. The first is the center of Queen Street Mall, and normally you can see the building that is in the second picture just under the canopy in the center. I would say the distance from me to the building is only two city blocks, which according to Google Maps is about 300 meters away.



Walking through the city the wind wasn't blowing hard, but it was blustery. I think I saw Winnie the Pooh and his pals float by at one point. What was more annoying was the constant taste of dust in my mouth, and smell of dust in my nose as every breath inoculated my senses with a very earthy flavour. I did notice there were many people taking to the streets with their cameras to take pictures, and very few of them had dust masks on. The news had said there were few health hazards to being outside during the dust storm, but cautioned elderly people and people with breathing problems to stay inside.

By late afternoon the dust was starting to thin, and the thickest part of the storm had passed. This is what the city looked like at around 5pm, which was a mere 5 hours later.


Afterwards I found this cool satellite picture of the storm. Brisbane is almost the exact center of this picture just above the border between New South Wales and Queensland.


So here's some interesting information about the storm. The theory goes that due to drought conditions in the interior parts of Australia, the wind storm swept up the dust from farmer's fields and carried it to the coasts. While Martian like landscapes were one side effect, there were many others. For one, people's homes and cars were now coated with layers of dust. Water restrictions imposed by the State government were relaxed for the week following to allow people to clean up.

The dust also created a massive canvas for people to write parting messages to others...


Another interesting side effect, from a public health point of view, was an incident believed to have been caused by the dust storm. Water samples from a nearby reservoir had been tested and found to have unusually high levels of bacteria. The working theory is that the dust, blown in from farms, contained fertilizer that happens to be full of bacteria. When the dust coated the lake it also increased the bacteria and the potential risk to those swimming in it. So far as I'm aware no one actually got sick from it.

While I've experienced many dust storms in my life growing up in the Arizona deserts, I have to say that this was the most invasive one. Mostly because it wasn't followed by rain to clear everything away. This was more like a earthy fog that swept in and lingered for a few hours, then slowly drifted away. Everything smelled like dust for a few days afterward.

Reader poll

Yes, I have truly neglected this here blog of mine. Over two months with not a single update. Life has been hectic, but I won't give excuses.

The good news is that I have taken heaps of photos of the adventures I'm having here in Australia. Rather than continue to do massive pictures updates I decided to let those who may be checking my little place on the web choose what I will post next. Below you'll find a list of activities that I have pictures from, you simply have to make a comment (click the link below that says "Comments") to this post about which one you think I should elaborate. Here goes:

• Ekka, you bet'ka
• Tukka me in for some good grub
• Daisy Hill Santuary
• Binna Burra and flying foxes
• Riverfire, oh how it burned
• GenCon
• Great Australian Sandstorm
• A Queensland Aussie in President Obama's court
• Italian festival
• Halloween, Aussie style
• Sea World, and hear it too
• Bribie Island with fish and chips
• The Costume Caper (see a preview on Facebook)
  
• Moreton Island

Eeeh gad, I have neglected this thing. I'd be busy for the next 3 weeks trying to publish all of that on here. I doubt I'm funny enough to even keep you interested. We'll see which one is the most in demand. Vote now!

Bunya Mountains, no Bunyips around.

Early in August some mates and I went to a place in Queensland called the Bunya Mountains. This has been an annual trip for the last three years. I was fortunate to tag along this year. We ate, played games, hiked, played with parrots, wrote stories, and just relaxed for our time there. While we had hoped for some snow, we had a pleasant burst of weather that made the trip great. Well, the location and company made the trip great, but the weather helped.


Each of the meals for the trip was assigned to a team of chefs (usually 2 people). We ate like royalty. Well, we ate like what I think royalty would eat like... maybe with fancier dinnerware and stuff. We had tons of left over food. I must say the other blokes were very generous in their food offerings. This is the very first meal, which had two lasagnas, a shrimp pasta, and a vegetarian pasta. Yes, that's FOUR pastas for the SEVEN of us.


This was the view from the large porch of our cabin. We initially had two cabins, but consolidated to the one on Monday. Did I mention that we were there from Friday night until Wednesday? Yeah, it was 5 days of fun.


There are many plants and trees unique to Australia. I'm sure most people might recognise the bottletree, but I'm also pretty sure the Bunya pine (Araucaria bidwillii) is not as familiar. The tree is very large, with the branches only towards the upper portion. The tree is most known for the huge pine cones. The nuts in the cones are edible and very tastey. In fact, Aboriginal families used to claim trees and pass them down through the family. Every three years the local tribes would gather and forget past wrongs and disputes to harvest the nuts from the trees.


Another "tree" is the strangler fig (Ficus watkinsiana). This is a vine that produces seeds that the birds eat then poop out when they land in the trees. The seed sprouts and then becomes a vine that works its way back down to the ground, using the tree it began life on as support. Eventually the vine grows larger and chokes the tree until it dies. You can see in these pictures one tree that is still hanging on to life, and in the other where the inner tree has died and decayed away leaving a hollow tube.



In between all the terrific food prepared by the other guys I managed to introduce these Aussies to the wonder that is a smore. Thanks to my sister I was able to bring some real American graham crackers. We used Aussie marshmallows, which are much better than the ones in the US. We also found some chocolate that seemed to work okay. Not much in the way of Hershey bars around these parts.


The cabin was in a gated community where heaps of wallabies lived. They were everywhere. Some of them had little joeys in their pouches like this little jill. Unfortunately I wasn't able to get any good pictures of the joeys, they turned out rather blurry. There was quite a bit of wildlife around in addition to the wallabies, like large worms (think of a hot dog wiggling across a path through the forest), an antechinus, and especially birds.


I think a highlight of the trip for me was the chance to see very colorful birds. They sell bird seed to visitors who didn't happen to pack some for the trip. Somehow the birds show up within about 5 minutes after setting it out for them. Not just one bird, mind you, but flocks of them. We had all sorts showing up for some chow, and they were tame enough to actually hop onto your arm and eat out of your hand. They even pose for pictures sometimes.

The Crimson Rosella (Platycercus elegans) were the most common. They'd come in groups of a dozen or more, and there'd be one or two "alpha" birds that would push the others out of the way. We were fascinated by the hierarchy of birds that came to eat the seeds, not only between species but among birds of the same species as well. The bright red and blue guys were all males, as the females have a greenish tinge.






The Red-browed finch (Neochmia temporalis) was a bit harder to photograph. These little guys are so jumpy and skittish around the larger parrot birds. For a much better photograph check out this website. They went for the smaller seeds, and actually gathered underneath the deck to pick up the seeds the larger birds dropped through the cracks.


We also had a visit from a mating pair of King parrots (Alisterus scapularis). They were the largest birds to come eat our seeds, but we only had the one pair stop by. You will note that the male has a red head, and the female is all green. I wonder why the females are more green than the males. Hmm, things to ponder.



We ended on this meal. I mean, seriously, how can I feel like a student when this is what I'm eating? For my family reading this, you have no need to worry about whether or not I'm being fed. I can't actually remember what the dishes were, but one them is vegetarian. I'll have to seek some reminder help from those who made these wonderful meals.


There were heaps of plants around that were endemic to the area. Besides the Bunya Pine, ones that were particularly distinctive were the grass trees (Xanthorrhoea glauca). These plants grew from about 4 to 10 feet tall. You could tell that they had been around for a while, because the base is just the stumps of the grass that grows on the top kinda like the way coral grows. Thanks to Monica Pawlan for explaining the following on her website:

"Xanthorrhoea plants are also known as balga grass to the Australian aborigines, which is their word for black boy. The Aborigines probably called these plants balga because after a wild fire, the bottom leaves burn away revealing a singed black trunk with long green reed like leaves extending from the top of the trunk giving the appearance of child like black figures."

I'm not sure that the wallabies can actually read, but I thought it was nice of the folks to put a sign up so they would know where to cross the road. They even considered the poor, little, illiterate wallabys by putting a picture of their kind on the sign. Since I'm just a "tourist" in Australia, I decided not to break any laws and steal the sign, but if I ever get my residency...


What a wonderful weekend we all had. Definitely something I will always remember. Ta to all the guys who were a part of it.

Love Creek, the epic-est hike so far in Australia

I've been in Australia for about 6 months now. So far I have been on almost a dozen hikes to various parts of Queensland. Not all of them would be considered serious hikes, being maybe a couple of kilometers at best. Fortunately I have made friends with some serious outdoors types. I had only to exercise a measure of patience before I was called upon to join them on something worthy of an excursion into the wilds. That time had come, and the hike was called Love Creek Falls.

This is the trail head to the hike we were about to undertake. In all the hike would be about 9-10 kilometers, but required scrambling up rocks, steep slopes, and navigating dangerous trickling creek beds. The first part of the hike, Greene's Falls was much drier than the last time we had hiked this portion of the trail.


Greene's Falls, was about 1.1km into our hike along Cedar Creek (caution - this link is a PDF file). Part of the hike is on this cool boardwalk. At the end of the boardwalk is a viewing area for those casual hikers that aren't into serious adventure. Alas, our fearless group was bound for greater glories. We hopped the railing of the viewing area to commence the manly portion of our hike this day. However, the falls you see in this picture didn't have quite so much water running over them during this particular hike. I grabbed a picture from a previous hike where we weren't so manly to show you what the falls look like.


Would you like to see my impression of what a drop-bear looks like just before it falls out of a tree? Luckily we didn't run across any of them during our hike. I guess they aren't very active during the winter months.


We selected this spot for our first major break, or "morning tea." None of us had any tea so I'm a bit confused why we called it that. I actually had a banana that I remembered to open like a monkey, some mango-flavoured macadamia nuts, and some water. This was about 1.5 hours into the hike, just after Cedar Creek joins into Love Creek.


I have to admit that most of the pictures from this hike were of the creek, waterfalls, or rocks. I was particularly fascinated by this waterfall because of the reflection on the pool at the bottom. Not quite a mirrored surface, but still effective. Nothing else special other than a pretty picture.


Love Creek falls were the highlight of the trip, and took us about two hours to get there. Half way done! Woo hoo! You can see the largest waterfall tucked away in the back. Unfortunately the lighting was horrible for pictures, either too bright or too dark. I think you can get the idea in this picture though. The falls were pretty large, but I can't tell you how tall they were exactly. I tried to find the information on the internet, but apparently this is more obscure a location than I thought. I'll send a reward to anyone who can find the height of the falls (with reliable source information.)


I was fascinated by this rock formation that we scrambled up on the way to the base of the falls. An almost perfectly square passageway framed by plants. You'd think it was a movie set or something. I was expecting Indiana Jones to come hopping back down being chased by savages, but that type of adventure remained only in my head. Well now it exists for you reading this in cyberspace. Ha ha, I infected you. Moving on...


There were quite a bunch of rocks that had a deep red color to them. When they were submerged in the creek they looked almost like a raw piece of meat sitting in the water. I couldn't get a good picture of the red rocks in the creek. This rock was obviously not submerged, but I was intrigued by the colors and textures. My geologist friends would probably tell me that the red color comes from iron deposits, but I'm by no means a geologist.


So after about 4-5 hours we finished our hike, the longest one I've done since I've arrived here. Lots of scrambling up rocks, but mostly just hiking along a creek. Beautiful country here in Australia. I'm just glad this time there were no leeches. Eep!

Note: This little guy chose me the last time we hiked in the area.