On the train home today I was listening to Sixx:A.M. It got me thinking about an event that always sits in the back of my mind. It's something I talk about occasionally, more and more as the years pass, but something that I'm not sure I've ever really dealt with properly. We all cope with death in different ways and pretty much everyone I know has lost someone through cancer, suicide, a car crash, or simply old age. A lot of us have lost people to drugs. Now that isn't all about how "drugs are bad". People take them, I've taken my share, I knew the risks. Preaching is not an objective here. This is just an attempt to work through stuff.
Back in 1999 my uncle died of a heroin overdose. I don't think I ever really dealt with his death properly. When it happened it was such an earth-shattering shock that I was rather numb. I'd know about the heroin, through second-hand information from Dad, that wasn't so shocking. The finality of the incident was.
Many people look for a "Why" when someone dies. I don't. I don't believe in God, Allah, Buddah (as a supernatural entity), Jehova, Odin, Zeus or Gaia. I don't believe in fate or destiny. I'm an athiest and I don't feel a need to look for "whys". I am, however, interested in potential, cause and effect. I can't help wondering what might have been, had he lived. How would things have turned out?
I was asleep, in my room in the place on Thomas St in West Perth. My mobile rang and Dad was on the line. I no longer remember the exact conversation, but it went something like this;
"Are you awake?" he asked
Of course, I didn't want him to think I was being an unemployed bum and still sleeping at 10am. "Yeah, sure. What's up?"
"There's been... Can you come in to Acorn?"
You see, I used to work for my parents. At this time I wasn't any more, so being asked to come in at such short notice was a surprise.
"Um... Ok. What's wrong?" I asked. Dad explained that Steve hadn't shown up for a gig. Mum had been unable to contact him for a few days, which was not unusual, but when she heard about his non-attendance at the gig she knew something was up. She got his friends to bust into his flat, where they found him. Dad wanted me to come in because Mum was a mess and he didn't know what else to do. The strange part is, I agreed. There I was, just having found out that the one relative I had who I thought had any chance of really understanding me had checked out and I'm getting ready to go in and run an office. What the hell? Anyway, Dad called back a bit later to apologise for dumping that on me and told me to stay home. I didn't think an apology was needed. I probably would have done the same thing in Dad's shoes.
The next few days are a bit hazy. I know I wound up getting royally drunk a few days later. Singing "Sweet Child O Mine" in a goth club, ordering a salad just so I could get another drink, trying to set fire to the house, chewing up a foam esky. All on one night, apparently.
Later there was the funeral. I was asked to read a eulogy, written by one of his best friends. Of course I agreed. I had to do something. We went to this little memorial hall, some of Steve's favorite music was playing. There I was, in the closest thing I had to a suit, trying to keep it together. Not for myself, but because I had Mum, Fiona and Grandma there. I felt I had to be the strong one. The shoulder on which they could (and did) cry. Delivering the eulogy was one of the hardest things I'd had to do up until that point. I just had to get through it, not break down. I had to do it for Steve and for my family. Maybe I didn't have to, but my own psychological makeup insisted that I was under an obligation to stay strong when everyone else was falling apart. The only part I remember is getting to the end of what was written, having been so sure I could come up with something of my own to add. Something personal that would sum up how I felt. At the time I thought what I added was weak, but looking back it was exactly what I wanted to say;
"Goodbye Steve, you were one of the good guys."
We held a wake at Dad's place. It was exactly the way he would have wanted it, we all got exceedingly drunk and had a party. I got told over and over how much I reminded people of Steve. That was nice, but also kinda hard to deal with at the time. It still is. Perhaps that goes some way to explaining why I drank so damn much. The point is; I didn't cry. Through that whole process, I barely shed a tear. The tears came much, much later.
When all this happened I was not in a great place in my life. I was unemployed, trying to maintain a long distance relationship with someone who, in retrospect, really wasn't that into me. I was planning a move over to Sydney (by way of Melbourne initially) and trying to figure out what I was doing with my life. I'm still trying to work that out.
The original idea had been to ditch Perth, hit Melbourne for a week or two and hang out with Steve for a while. He'd always been that slightly odd uncle who listened to rock music, dyed his hair odd colours and showed up in Mum and Dad's wedding photos with extremely long hair. He had cereal bowls with little feet on them, like in the old Rice Bubbles ad. I still remember going to visit him when I was really small and being excited by those. He introduced me to Frank Zappa and educated me on the finer points of Led Zeppelin. The only real time we spent together as adults was just after my 18th birthday. I spent a week at his place. He took me to see Dick Dale, gave me lessons on being a pool shark and took the sofa bed when I passed out on his bed when I smoked pot after drinking vast quantities of beer. Then he made me clean up my vomit in the bathroom the next day. He was an idol of mine. The last time I saw him was when I was about 21. I'd gone over to Melbourne for a week or so (another long distance relationship) and we went to have dinner with Steve and his girlfriend. Less that 18 months later he was gone.
Some of my close friends already know this story. At least this part. There's more but not right now.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Thursday, February 07, 2008
I hate gift cards
This is not meant, in any way, to sound ungrateful.
There is a blopody good reason that when people (i.e. my family) offer to buy me a gift card for some shop or other, that I request cash instead. It has nothing to do with the fact that I'd rather spend cash on booze (although I probably will). It has everything to do with the fact that gift cards are a total rort.
Case in point: I was given a rather valuable gift card for Christmas. It's for Westfield, which seems handy as there is a store about 5 minutes away by train. Great. So today I went out to do a bit of shopping and decided I needed some new cookware as I've only a small pan and a pot to cook with (ahh the joys of bachelor living). I wandered into one of the stores and found a decent-looking 9 piece set which was 50% off retail! Kick arse! I lugged the box off the shelf and over to the counter.
"Do you have Fly Buys?" inquired the girl.
"Nope, but I do have a gift card" I replied, taking out the card in question.
"Oh..." said the girl, the smile dropping out of her voice "we don't accept Westfield gift cards."
"You don't?!" I asked, mildly shocked. After all, I was in the middle of a Westfield shopping centre.
"No... We do have our own though!" she replied, brightening up.
I thought to myself "And that helps me how?" but decided to just say "Ahh. In that case, forget it." I walked out.
It turns out that the Coles Myer group and K-Mart don't accept the cards, but I've been informed by Westfield representatives that I can use the cards at "any of the fashion stores". Brilliant! Care to guess how often I'm likely to buy my clothes at any of those places?
My entire problem with gift cards is that some prick already has the money and now there are restrictions on how I can get that redeemed for actual products within the very centre which already has the money.
The message to you all is, if you want to get me a present and have no idea what to give me, either give me cash or booze.
So, rather than buying anything useful (as I'm sure my family hoped), I am going to spend the entire thing at Dan Murphy's. Yup, it's all going to go on booze.
Ain't irony grand?
There is a blopody good reason that when people (i.e. my family) offer to buy me a gift card for some shop or other, that I request cash instead. It has nothing to do with the fact that I'd rather spend cash on booze (although I probably will). It has everything to do with the fact that gift cards are a total rort.
Case in point: I was given a rather valuable gift card for Christmas. It's for Westfield, which seems handy as there is a store about 5 minutes away by train. Great. So today I went out to do a bit of shopping and decided I needed some new cookware as I've only a small pan and a pot to cook with (ahh the joys of bachelor living). I wandered into one of the stores and found a decent-looking 9 piece set which was 50% off retail! Kick arse! I lugged the box off the shelf and over to the counter.
"Do you have Fly Buys?" inquired the girl.
"Nope, but I do have a gift card" I replied, taking out the card in question.
"Oh..." said the girl, the smile dropping out of her voice "we don't accept Westfield gift cards."
"You don't?!" I asked, mildly shocked. After all, I was in the middle of a Westfield shopping centre.
"No... We do have our own though!" she replied, brightening up.
I thought to myself "And that helps me how?" but decided to just say "Ahh. In that case, forget it." I walked out.
It turns out that the Coles Myer group and K-Mart don't accept the cards, but I've been informed by Westfield representatives that I can use the cards at "any of the fashion stores". Brilliant! Care to guess how often I'm likely to buy my clothes at any of those places?
My entire problem with gift cards is that some prick already has the money and now there are restrictions on how I can get that redeemed for actual products within the very centre which already has the money.
The message to you all is, if you want to get me a present and have no idea what to give me, either give me cash or booze.
So, rather than buying anything useful (as I'm sure my family hoped), I am going to spend the entire thing at Dan Murphy's. Yup, it's all going to go on booze.
Ain't irony grand?
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Comic shopping.
On Tuesday I went into Kings Comics once again.
The Boys impressed me so much that I decided I should place a standing order for it, as well as reserving a copy of Doktor Sleepless, once it arrives.
I approached the counter, only to have some arrogant twat stare down his nose at me. I smiled and a conversation ensued:
Me: "Hi, I'd like to set up a subscription thingy for a couple of titles" (yes, I had a brief mental blank)
*blank stare for a few seconds*
Shop drone:"Do you mean a standing order?" said in a tone that indicated his estimation of my intelligence was lower than that of a small bowl of cold cream-of-mushroom soup.
Me: "Ahh! Yes. That's the word I was looking for. Thanks!"
Shop drone: "Was it just for one title?" he asked, indicating that my business really wasn't worth his time
Me: "Well, two actually, but one of them hasn't started yet"
Shop drone: "*sigh* A standing order requires at least four regular titles and you'll have to update your credit card details with us every fortnight. If you don't pick up your order we charge it to your card" he recited, like a really bored machine that had far better things to do. Like standing behind a counter and offering no assistance to customers.
Me: "Oh... ok then... I guess I'll see if there's anything else worth getting"
Shop drone: (turning back to the conversation that I'd obviously interrupted) "Ok"
Now I understand that his job may not be thrilling. I understand that there are certain things about which he has to inform me. I'm totally cool with the fact that they have rules around standing orders. The issue I have is that this tool treated me like a retarded bum who just asked him for a blowjob.
Maybe the fact that I train people in customer service has given me unrealistic expectations, but how hard would it have been for the guy to say something like "Which titles were you looking for?" followed by recommendations of other titles in which I may have been interested? How hard would it have been for him to simply be polite and attempt to encourage me to place an order (guaranteed money for the store)?
This experience led me to search for another comic shop from which to make my purchases. A friend recommended I check out Comic Kingdom, which is a lot closer to my place of work. I headed down there on Wednesday and was pleasantly surprised to discover a slightly run-down shop, nowhere near as flashy as Kings, with that slightly musty comic shop smell. The place was stacked with memorabilia and back-issues galore. I approached the counter and was greeted by the shop assistant, a much older man who was actually smiling. The following conversation ensued:
Me: "Hi there, how are you"
Shop-dude: "I'm great. How about you?"
Me: "Very well, thanks. I was wondering if you could help me, do you guys do standing orders?"
Shop-dude: "We sure do."
Me: "Great! So, what's the deal?"
Shop-dude: "Well, you do have to order a minimum of five titles. Then all we need is your name and a contact phone number."
Me: "Ok, there were only two I was really interested in at this point. It's been a few years since I've bought anything"
Shop-dude: "Which ones were you after"
Me: "The Boys and Doktor Sleepless"
Shop-dude: "Hmm. I'm not familiar with those. I usually work in the memorabilia section downstairs, but the guy who's usually here will be able to help you out. He's just gone to lunch"
Me: "No worries. I'll have a bit of a poke around and see if there's anything else that catches my eye"
Shop-dude: "Well, once you decide, just give us a list of the titles and the number you want to start from and we'll hold them for you. The only thing is, Marvel don't do reprints at the moment, so we might not be able to get you back-issues for Marvel titles."
Me: "Not a problem. Thanks for your help."
Can we see the difference there, boys and girls?
This guy was helpful, upfront and interested in keeping me as a customer. He explained the deal and offered a way to sort out anything that he couldn't do himself. Now sure, it means I need five titles rather than four, but they don't want my credit card (not that that's an issue anyway) and are willing to get in back-issues if I need them. That, my friends, is customer service.
I mentioned to this guy that he was a lot more helpful than the staff at Kings and that thier attitude was rather arrogant. His response was "Yeah. We get that a lot."
It appears I have a new shop from which to purchase my comics. Now I just need to work out the three other titles which will be worth ordering.
The Boys impressed me so much that I decided I should place a standing order for it, as well as reserving a copy of Doktor Sleepless, once it arrives.
I approached the counter, only to have some arrogant twat stare down his nose at me. I smiled and a conversation ensued:
Me: "Hi, I'd like to set up a subscription thingy for a couple of titles" (yes, I had a brief mental blank)
*blank stare for a few seconds*
Shop drone:"Do you mean a standing order?" said in a tone that indicated his estimation of my intelligence was lower than that of a small bowl of cold cream-of-mushroom soup.
Me: "Ahh! Yes. That's the word I was looking for. Thanks!"
Shop drone: "Was it just for one title?" he asked, indicating that my business really wasn't worth his time
Me: "Well, two actually, but one of them hasn't started yet"
Shop drone: "*sigh* A standing order requires at least four regular titles and you'll have to update your credit card details with us every fortnight. If you don't pick up your order we charge it to your card" he recited, like a really bored machine that had far better things to do. Like standing behind a counter and offering no assistance to customers.
Me: "Oh... ok then... I guess I'll see if there's anything else worth getting"
Shop drone: (turning back to the conversation that I'd obviously interrupted) "Ok"
Now I understand that his job may not be thrilling. I understand that there are certain things about which he has to inform me. I'm totally cool with the fact that they have rules around standing orders. The issue I have is that this tool treated me like a retarded bum who just asked him for a blowjob.
Maybe the fact that I train people in customer service has given me unrealistic expectations, but how hard would it have been for the guy to say something like "Which titles were you looking for?" followed by recommendations of other titles in which I may have been interested? How hard would it have been for him to simply be polite and attempt to encourage me to place an order (guaranteed money for the store)?
This experience led me to search for another comic shop from which to make my purchases. A friend recommended I check out Comic Kingdom, which is a lot closer to my place of work. I headed down there on Wednesday and was pleasantly surprised to discover a slightly run-down shop, nowhere near as flashy as Kings, with that slightly musty comic shop smell. The place was stacked with memorabilia and back-issues galore. I approached the counter and was greeted by the shop assistant, a much older man who was actually smiling. The following conversation ensued:
Me: "Hi there, how are you"
Shop-dude: "I'm great. How about you?"
Me: "Very well, thanks. I was wondering if you could help me, do you guys do standing orders?"
Shop-dude: "We sure do."
Me: "Great! So, what's the deal?"
Shop-dude: "Well, you do have to order a minimum of five titles. Then all we need is your name and a contact phone number."
Me: "Ok, there were only two I was really interested in at this point. It's been a few years since I've bought anything"
Shop-dude: "Which ones were you after"
Me: "The Boys and Doktor Sleepless"
Shop-dude: "Hmm. I'm not familiar with those. I usually work in the memorabilia section downstairs, but the guy who's usually here will be able to help you out. He's just gone to lunch"
Me: "No worries. I'll have a bit of a poke around and see if there's anything else that catches my eye"
Shop-dude: "Well, once you decide, just give us a list of the titles and the number you want to start from and we'll hold them for you. The only thing is, Marvel don't do reprints at the moment, so we might not be able to get you back-issues for Marvel titles."
Me: "Not a problem. Thanks for your help."
Can we see the difference there, boys and girls?
This guy was helpful, upfront and interested in keeping me as a customer. He explained the deal and offered a way to sort out anything that he couldn't do himself. Now sure, it means I need five titles rather than four, but they don't want my credit card (not that that's an issue anyway) and are willing to get in back-issues if I need them. That, my friends, is customer service.
I mentioned to this guy that he was a lot more helpful than the staff at Kings and that thier attitude was rather arrogant. His response was "Yeah. We get that a lot."
It appears I have a new shop from which to purchase my comics. Now I just need to work out the three other titles which will be worth ordering.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Tommy
Oh wow.
Tommy Monaghan is coming back!
With Ennis and McRea at the helm, we're getting a new Hitman/JLA story. This is several kinds of awesome. It's a "lost" story, so no coming back from the dead for Tommy (unlike those damn penguins). The comic nerd in me just went in to overdrive.
Looks like I picked a good time to get back into comics.
With Ennis and McRea at the helm, we're getting a new Hitman/JLA story. This is several kinds of awesome. It's a "lost" story, so no coming back from the dead for Tommy (unlike those damn penguins). The comic nerd in me just went in to overdrive.
Looks like I picked a good time to get back into comics.
Return
I'd forgotten all about this for a while.
That seems to happen to me a great deal. Things get lost. I forget stuff. Just the other day I was cleaning up and came across a box of stuff I'd not opened in 4 or 5 years. Did you know I own Sandman and Death action figures, as well as a model of Motoko Kusanagi from Ghost In The Shell? I sure as hell didn't.
Well, that's not entirely true. I knew but the knowledge had left me for a while. I own a great deal of crap.
Speaking of forgotten things, I bought some comics today. It's been many years (probably about 6) since I last purchased comics on any sort of regular basis. I was too poor to afford them and had a habit of committing myself to far too many titles at once. Recently the old craving has come back & the cleanup, resulting in my discovery of all the issues of Dark Victory, had me thinking it was about time I see what's out there.
The result of all this was a trip to King's Comics on my lunchbreak today. There was a lot of stuff I'd never seen before. Some looked interesting, some looked like complete shite. The only problem with the interesting titles was that they were all about 7 issues in & I couldn't be bothered looking for back issues.
Then I spotted it.
On a bottom shelf.
A series with a great name and a brilliant writer/artist combo. Best of all, they had all 6 issues in a single pack. I have discovered the joy of The Boys by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson. How can it get any cooler? The guy who wrote Preacher (as well as some of my favorite Judge Dredd stories) combined with the artist responsible for Transmetropolitan. It's absolutely brilliant. Violent, funny, clever, witty. Oh, and filthy. If any of you were fans of either Preacher (or Hitman, Adventures of the Rifle Brigade, Just a Pilgrim, etc) or Transmetropolitan, you simply must check out this new series. It's currently on hiatus, having been pulled by DC due to issues with the content, but it's due to start up again next month.
I can't wait.
That seems to happen to me a great deal. Things get lost. I forget stuff. Just the other day I was cleaning up and came across a box of stuff I'd not opened in 4 or 5 years. Did you know I own Sandman and Death action figures, as well as a model of Motoko Kusanagi from Ghost In The Shell? I sure as hell didn't.
Well, that's not entirely true. I knew but the knowledge had left me for a while. I own a great deal of crap.
Speaking of forgotten things, I bought some comics today. It's been many years (probably about 6) since I last purchased comics on any sort of regular basis. I was too poor to afford them and had a habit of committing myself to far too many titles at once. Recently the old craving has come back & the cleanup, resulting in my discovery of all the issues of Dark Victory, had me thinking it was about time I see what's out there.
The result of all this was a trip to King's Comics on my lunchbreak today. There was a lot of stuff I'd never seen before. Some looked interesting, some looked like complete shite. The only problem with the interesting titles was that they were all about 7 issues in & I couldn't be bothered looking for back issues.
Then I spotted it.
On a bottom shelf.
A series with a great name and a brilliant writer/artist combo. Best of all, they had all 6 issues in a single pack. I have discovered the joy of The Boys by Garth Ennis and Darick Robertson. How can it get any cooler? The guy who wrote Preacher (as well as some of my favorite Judge Dredd stories) combined with the artist responsible for Transmetropolitan. It's absolutely brilliant. Violent, funny, clever, witty. Oh, and filthy. If any of you were fans of either Preacher (or Hitman, Adventures of the Rifle Brigade, Just a Pilgrim, etc) or Transmetropolitan, you simply must check out this new series. It's currently on hiatus, having been pulled by DC due to issues with the content, but it's due to start up again next month.
I can't wait.
Saturday, November 27, 2004
A single step
It is currently 5:02pm on Saturday, November 27, 2004.
I am at work.
In case you were somehow unable to figure it out, I am rather bored.
Hence this blog has now been created.
Perhaps in the future I will post something interesting, but not right now.
I am at work.
In case you were somehow unable to figure it out, I am rather bored.
Hence this blog has now been created.
Perhaps in the future I will post something interesting, but not right now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)