But enough about me, what do you think of me?

Now, don’t get me wrong, you can’t like yourself too much. The Charlie Brown record I owned as a young child taught me that. Lucy coming over the mono speaker saying she had "thick beauty" that went down "layer after layer". Wise words indeed.

Lucy said she’d been loving herself for years, and still felt she had a long, long way to go. When poor moon-headed Charlie Brown asked if she felt she might be conceited Lucy replied with all the disdain that Lucy can muster that that, was impossible, as you can’t like yourself too much. Formative words for a 6 year old.

And, surprisingly spot on. Well, comedy is like that, a kernal of truth surrounding a joke. Though how better off would so many people be if they could just love themselves the way they are.

Which, brings me to a date of a while back; Rudel. We’d met online, had chatted back and forth in emails for a while. Exchanged photos, telephone numbers and thoughts on a number of topics.

Rudel had a lot of pictures to share. Most of them “pensive”. That is, him, looking off camera with either a thoughtful or constipated look. Depending on how you interpreted the shot. Sometimes combining both, a constipated expression wondering when a bowel movement would occur.

Anyway, we met for dinner. I had decided upon Indian, and Rudel had agreed. He informed me upon picking me up that he was vegetarian. Well, a vegetarian that ate fish, milk, cheese, just no beef, as his body no longer produced the enzymes to digest red meat.

I was tempted to ask what tests he’d performed to ascertain this sudden lack of enzymes, and did we perhaps need to stop by an emergency room. Anyway, the dinner was pleasant, though I found myself getting more and more waspish by the end of the evening. I considered myself lucky to get out of there for a $40 meal.

Well, Rudel had a better time than me, as he asked me out again. I guess being a sucker for a pretty face, or a glutton for punishment, you be the judge, I went. This time it was Japanese, where I was maligned for liking California rolls. Needless to say, I didn't pay this time.

Well, longer story longer, we went to his place to chat after dinner. Where I noticed upon walking him, a picture of him. Nothing too unusual about that, other than it greeted you upon walking into his place. Rudel eagerly offered to give me a tour of his apartment.

In the hallway, his cheery face greeted me from four pictures, in the bathroom Rudel looked again pensively downwards (the constipated look suitably fitting the room). The guest room had more shots of his face, and his master bedroom had him not only on the bedside table, but also on the walls. Framed, and lit.

I mentioned the many photographs of himself that were adorning the walls. Rudel was shocked to think there might be someone else there.

He ran to get a photo displayed on the coffee table with him, and his nephew. He was adamant that he didn’t only have pictures of himself displayed. I asked if the only reason this was out was because he really liked the way he looked in the shot, and the nephew was only incidental. Rudel mumbled something about liking the way he looked in the picture, but, his nephew was there too. Which is an error I’m sure would be corrected once Rudel became more proficient in Photoshop. Nephew, what nephew?

Now, I finally think I met someone who liked themselves too much. I do have pictures of me at my house. However, these are with friends, not solo. In fact, the only solo shot I have displaed is one that was taken by my mother, and I didn't tell her to take it.

None of my other pictures are of me, posed by me, directing friends to take me in the “pose” I had adopted. Rudel proudly explained that he’d thought of each shot, and had made his friends and siblings take the pictures. Then he broke out his laptop for an evening of viewing him in different poses in places he visited.

For some reason he started to get offended when I asked if there were any pictures with his shirt off. Don’t get me wrong, he had plenty of shots of him without a shirt, and in his underwear and swimwear. But, he was offended that I only wanted to see those.

He stated that if I thought of him as just meat, I could leave.

So I did.

I mean, don’t press me, give me an out, any out, I’ll take it!

Thank fully he hasn’t called again.

But, at least I’ll always have the (many) pictures he gave me.

Not long for this world

When I was growing up in New Zealand, my older brother was my nemesis. We’re 18 months apart, and actually get along really well now. J used to great pleasure in beating me up, and I took great pleasure in trying to avoid daily beatings.

I had some very good friends when I was younger, all girls which apparently was of some concern to my father, but not so much the various psychologists he consulted. Anyway. stayovers were always a treat.

I had an extensive collection of stuffed animals; I still have most of them now! There’s Koala Bear, Gregory – Koala Bears’ best friend, Yellow (a yellow bear), Dumpty Doo, and a whole bunch of others. Thinking back in their names right now, I see that I veered from the very creative “Dumpty Doo” to the banal “Yellow”, who is, in fact, yellow.

I remember staying over at my friend, Jodi Ann Parker’s house. They had this huge dog; well, huge to a 6 year old, called Dfa. “D for dog” was his full name, but we all called him Dfa. I guess I also had friends who were either lazy, needing help remembering that it was a dog and not a cat, or, really cutely creative. You be the judge.

The house where we lived at the time in Khandallah was called Minihaha. Named after the Indian princess. How a house in New Zealand built in the early half of last century was named after an American Indian princess is strange and a mystery I never looked into, but there you go.

My brother J and I finally had separate rooms at Minihaha, having shared a rooms since we were tiny. Mine private room being called the “old kitchen”. It was actually the old kitchen. It had a pantry, which you could access by rolling up a panel in the wall. This made the room rather cold during the New Zealand winter, and just as cold during the week of the New Zealand summer.

Anyway, I digress. I returned to Minihaha from my sleep over to find every soft toy I owned gently swinging by their necks from rope nooses all fixed to the ceiling of the old kitchen. Apparently as I had not been around for my brother to pound on, he’d taken to lynching all of my precious soft toy friends. A mass hanging is not something an under 10 year old reacts to well.

Forget about your worries and your wife

Had a VERY strange dream last night - it was a Doris Day/Cary Grant movie. An old Hollywood Comedy. The plot was Doris Day as a hussy stealing Cary Grant away from his wife. Being an old Hollywood Comedy there was, of course, musical numbers. What I remember best is Doris Day singing to Cary the following - to the tune of "The Bear Necessities":

Forget about your worries and your wife,
If you find that you can get with me,
We'll see how far we can be.

Hey - I just dreamed it, I never said my unconsciousness was the Tim Rice of lyricists....

Birthdays!

Birthdays, what to say about birthdays? Well, another one of mine has come and gone. This year with intentionally little fan fair.

Now, my brother and I have had a contentious relationship throughout the years, with us settling into an affectionate comradeship that could never have existed 15 years ago. This year I sent him an electronic birthday greeting, to which I received “Big D, a virtual card, how thoughtful. I shall place it on my virtual mantelpiece in cyberspace for all my virtual friends to see.”

J (my brother) & M (my sister-in-law) always seem to take holidays in celebration of my birthing. Here is the (real) post card I received from them this year:



“Dear Big D,
As has become our custom, we have once again celebrated your B-day with a trip to an exotic location. This year we have gone all out! We have taken a suite at the City Palace complex in Vdaipur on the shores of Lake Pichola. And last night for your birthday we dined at the Lake Palace Hotel, which floats majestically in the middle of the lake. Look it up on the web, search “Lake Palace Vdaipur.” A grand opulent affair – no expense was spared on this special occasion. I hope you appreciate it, we always try and do something you’ll enjoy.
Love,
J & M
*A word of advice, if you travel to India, remember this. – Do NOT eat chicken curry at a small roadside restaurant in the middle of NO WHERE – run by Hindu vegetarians who have never heard of salmonella! The result is as bad as what you can imagine!”

They’ve traveled to Indonesia for my birthday, Fiji & Tonga too! They must certainly hope I live a long time so they can continue their August travel tradition. I’m sure if I pass away in the near future they’ll just switch it to a memorial tour, but that doesn’t have the same panache as a birthday bash.

This certainly was a year for postcards. My Mum sent me a postcard too – my Nanny (grandmother) had a stroke earlier this year. Mum has had her moved to a full time care center in New Zealand. I found out late last week that Nanny believes it’s 1946. She knows she’s not in her 40’s, and accepts she could be 70 or 80, but she is firm on the year being 1946. Nanny doesn’t know who Mum is, who her grandkids are or really why she’s in this strange place. She isn’t talking, but she is beginning to write again which is how Mum has been communicating with her. For my birthday Nanny signed a postcard for me, “love from Nanny.”



I think that may just be the best birthday present I ever got.