'twixt land and sea

Hate letters from children

2011-07-26T22:49:00.003+12:00

I've had a few hate letters from the kids. But this is my favourite.

June 14

2011-06-14T22:19:00.002+12:00

It's been a week. Interesting how easy tis, on the one hand, to rabbit on about trivia (and occasionally attempt to insert some gravity, some windy generalisation) and also how the impetus dies and builds, and dies away.

Woke fairly late, in O's bed. Got up slowly- a good sleep, despite the irregular barrage of aftershocks: a little rumble in the distance; the small thump or click or jerk following faithfully. Made coffee- Poppy and Toby interrupted this, with plans for a big egg/bacon/beans breakfast. P and I took coffee back to bed- chatted. Got up and checked over camera gear, packed and headed off, late. Pen wanted me to get diesel, so I had to fill the truck from the tin; took the charger off, checked the oil.

Drove in, listening to the radio. Quake quake quake.

The Emergency Operations Centre was low-key. Lynn asked me to get set up. Found a space and got camera, mic, tripod set up; found ear-phones, checked sound, white-balanced, waited.

Rod came and talked to camera. Good in that broken into sections. but hard: too much isn't know, and decisions still to be made this afternoon. Digitise, then convert the footage- then realise that isn't right (didn't downconvert to 720p), and it needs to be exported as canopus hq. Still seems remarkable what can be done with the HV20, mics, tripod and old laptop- and thence to youtube in HD.

Lengthy waiting: had some lunch; talked to people. I get a strong sense of underlying weariness, accompanied by a feeling that we know what to do, but wish we didn't have to do it again. Cut the talk into sections, add graphics, keys, trim.

John McDonald takes a look and wants the assessment segment up asap. Fairly quick to export and put up on youtube- and I know the process well enough now.

Jacqui talking to him on the lawn; gives me a big hug. Very hard being away from young kids. A little later she takes a look, and we cobble together another clip, and I get it up. Everything a little flat. While it's exporting, try to record some of the ops meeting, but it's very low-key. Chris Hawker is away in the US talking to other universities about emergency planning. Heh.

Get away around 4:40 as the comms team begin to craft the afternoon's key announcements. It looks like the university won't be fully open til Monday 20th. Exams will be able- all going well- to be squeezed in (there were a few on the Saturday.)

Buy some fruit and veg; then the supermarket. You can smell spilt beer in the alcohol corner. The diet coke bottles are sticky with a dried on spray of softdrink. The checkout woman is working flat-out, a little feverishly. Friendly, though. Riccarton Countdown is one of the few supermarkets to re-open quickly after each of the quakes.

Dark as I leave. Get diesel and petrol at the Curletts Rd Shell- they are out of 91. Stop to pick up naan bread at the Indian dairy on Hoon Hay Rd. Everyone cheery, but weary. Little shocks and rumbles don't help.

After some confusion, wrong number, I pick up the joddies and whip Pen bought on trademe, and drive home. A little grumpy dinner isn't started, and there's a lot to unpack and put away. But it all gets done, and Poppy and Toby make butter chicken, and we eat up.

School tomorrow, but probably no work. We'll still have to do the driving.

Play last card with Biddy, who is apparently nit-free, while Julia gets the comb. Hotties, tea, ice-creams, another hand or two of cards. Oscar is reluctant to go to bed- and denies there is school tomorrow. I sit and type most of this, as he eats a last plate of crackers (he had to tidy up the down-stairs pillows to get this) and then a drink, toothbrush, and nods off.

It's 10:58. Pen calls for me to come up to bed. I wonder what I'll think of this in a year; ten years. Probably just forget it. But diarising a week every year or so isn't too daunting. Pen calls again. And so to bed.

13 June

2011-06-14T21:34:00.005+12:00

Hard to remember back to the morning.

It was hard getting away. Couldn't find stuff- searched for Oscar's notebook, for example, which it turned out had gone home with another kid. Pen said at one stage I 'wasn't coping' and I gave her a short rant.

We got off. Biddy home sick. Julia, I think, in the front seat. No heater in the car. The worst thing about this is the way the windows mist and drip and befog. Nice day, though. A hint of frost, thin rime on the grass.

Running about 10 minutes late by Avonhead School. Pen called to say the truck wouldn't start. Bugger.

Started to work- getting purchase orders, a few calls; looked over the mudfish script. Walked over the UC to a meeting with Jen Hay and Matthew. Jogged- running late.
Went to the wrong 104. Then again- then found it. The 'seismic archive' could be an interesting project. (Rumble, then the little 'crunch' of another after shock as I write).

we'd almost finished talking when the building began to shake. We looked at each other, I guess looking for someone to take the lead in responding. The shaking lasted for a while. There was a nasty sound of concrete pillars grinding. Nobody really moved, and then, as far as I recall, Jen Hay more or less continued what she'd been saying.

We were finished, really- we trooped outside. Buildings were evacuating, fairly casually, in the sun. Matt rode off to check out the kids. I headed back to College, to ring and see what the schools were doing. Poppy texted on someone elses' phone to say she was ok. I replied, and asked if school was shutting. She said she'd find out.

Back in the office, I rang Pen. We dithered about what to do. A 5.5 on geonet.

Poppy was ok and school re-opened. I thought the others would be too, but calls to both schools did not get through. Pen said she had the truck going, and would need to leave to pick up Oscar soon anyway. So I started work again, in a fitful way.

A security guard came past some time after 2 and told me I have to get out. I grumbled a bit. Poppy was not due to finish til 6- a drama practice- so I wasn't sure what I'd do with myself. Gathered up bag, laptop and camera bag, and headed to the car. Then realised I didn't have the battery charger (I'd brought it in to charge the work van battery- we needed it at home for the truck) and my cellphone.

Went back in, and got my cellphone. Must've been locking the door when the next big quake hit. The building groaned; the ground swayed. I came out the door at great pace.

John the security guard was there, half-laughing. "I thought that building was clear!" he said. Pen called. She'd been stuck in traffic, near the Victoria St clock tower. I told her I'd get Julia, and head for Poppy.

Avonhead school was busy, but it almost seemed a familiar bustle. Had to sign to pick Julia up. We drove past the University, heading for Rangi, listening to national radio. Traffic really clogged on Straven Rd, though people let us in. We inched down and onto Fendalton, then Holmwood Rd. Parked and walked to get Pop. Julia was chirpy and chatty. Peered about at the great mass of students on the field- Poppy saw us first. Hugs from teachers, talked to Isabel, and back to the car. Julia is not at all frightened of earthquakes, but terrified of crossing the road.

Very slow down Wairekei; turned onto Greers, then Waimari- and decided to head via backstreets for Hornby.

This worked out ok- especially as we went past Avonhead where Julia got her glasses, Poppy used the loo, and we stocked up on lollies at the dairy. Poppy and Julia listening to Harry Potter on P's macbook, we drove around town, then back over the hill. The radio full of more stories of terror, damage, and that sense of 'oh, puh-leese- not AGAIN!'

Home, all together. Drove around and fed the horses, hooked the truck up to the charger, started the generator, checked email, facebook, mercproductions; made dinner... Poppy reading Alana to the twins. Fire blazing. Oscar likes to listen as well.

No school tomorrow, but I am going in to shoot something. P and I watched an episode of Treme. Love way great music twines into everything. I find it inspiring. Jumped up and started reading about Louis Armstrong, growing up poor in Orleans, befriended by the jewish family (he wore a Star of David the rest of his life) his politics, oddities, musical genius- the playful, mournful-happy jumpiness of his cornet playing- and that voice.

June 12

2011-06-13T11:08:00.002+12:00

Pen, Pop and twins off to Pony Club. I grumped about. Listened to the radio. Fed the hens and Lucinda (Paddy being weened, she'd been neighing in the night. Now very swollen udders). Cleaned some chicken-shit out of the chicken house. Ate some fejoas.

Cold, the sun obscured by thin smoggy layer of clouds. On the news, it seems this is ash coming from the volcano in Chile.

Tidied up a bit. Put through a load of washing. Attacked gorse by clothes-line. Folded clothes. Checked email and facebook. Made lunch for Pony Clubbers, and abandoned any thought of sailing. Fed other horses.

Drove to Pony Club. Oscar roamed freely, delighted to find Amanda. After lunch there was polo training. I took some photos and video. Finnegan behaving well, and off to (maybe) a new home.

Came home, nit-combed Oscar, and put on chicken to roast. Toby a little hung-over after a night on the town. Pen picked Marg up. Big roast chicken dinner, tarte tartin. Biddy not well. Drove Marg home. Settled all into bed and half-browsed, half-watched netball with Pen.

Silver Ferns held on to win 45-42.

June 11

2011-06-11T20:38:00.003+12:00

Managed to get a good night's sleep. Woke slowly, Pen making coffee. Tidied up a bit, then had to get the ute started- low on diesel, and the battery down. Luckily we had diesel.

Did some chores round the place- twins went riding. They found Riley out, came back very excited (they'd shut the gates.) Truck started, so I went and found Pen, and she brought Riley and Tully down to the three-bay, while I moved some hay, and tried to help out.

Back at home, Pop and the twins agreed to ride the newbies: Biddy on Chelsea, Julia on Finnegan, Poppy on Tully. Oscar and I went to town, and bought: a new petrol container, voltmeter, ax and rechargable torch-radio 9and a sausage for Oscar); diesel, petrol, gas; and groceries (including, of course, salt and vinegar chips).

Arrived back to find the twins had had a good ride, but Tully had been a disaster. Thrown Poppy twice, badly scraped, and also rope-burns, from when he'd thrown Penny. He'd just gone silly, wild, hitting the wall, falling over, trying to get the saddle and person off.

Nachos and wound-tending; then I dug up some ngaios, and went to plant them in the gully in block 1. Sheep and ponies grazing together, scattered into their two groups when I arrived- the sheep, led by Dot, walked up, and she sniffed the ngaios very interestedly,until she was sure they were not edible.

Getting dark by the time I was heading back. Not convinced we'll have much success with these... we've tried a few times in this spot. Too loved by stock.

Fed horses on the way back: William and Marley and Finnegan up top; Tully, Riley and Salty around the 3-bay, and Finneen above the house. Made cheese- toasties. Equalising the batteries, and still pondering wind generators.

Watched some more Nurse Jackie with Pen, and then stayed up late reading about John Ross, Pancho Villa, 1910 and the Mexican Revolution.

June 10

2011-06-10T13:06:00.005+12:00

Damp day, woke in the dark, and didn't get up til after the phone had finished it's snippet of "Of Montreal".

Toby's 21st: he came in and opened presents as we got ready to leave. Again a leisurely run, Biddy on time to get ready for orchestra before the assembly began.

ELMS meeting. Alan is leaving, which seems a shame. But he's been unhappy for a while here. It IS dreary at the moment.

Spend much of the morning researching prices, and trying to 'make a case' for buying stuff. Some of it stuff I've been talking about for years. Frustrating. When I had the power to make decisions, I did stuff. Now I don't. I talk about it. I write it down. I write it down a gain. I change my mind, give up, try again, throw it in the bin. It does not feel good.

Off to another ECHO360 meeting at 2. Walk out into the rain, carrying laptop, bag, camera, notepad.... and try to find the van. Feel a bit dizzy. Rain on my glasses. It's not there. Look around a bit. So stupid me, where did I park it? After a moment or two, while half my brain is trying to work out where I DID park it, the other half is saying, slightly incredulously: someone's nicked it.

Back to the office, unlock, turn off the alarms. Security: no vans have been towed. Ring police to report stolen. Talk to security again. Ring Pen- she has to come in and pick me up, as well as Oscar, the twins, Poppy. Mope, search, call AMI, mechanic (to cancel the car booking for Monday: we'll need it.)

Pen comes, Oscar tries to run away (Poppy chases him) we talk with Lucy and Tim, gather up the twins, head home. Turn on the generator, nip down to feed Tully and Salty, the last hints of light tinting low clouds under Mt Bradley. Pen makes pizzas.

Bugger.

Finished Archer's Goon.

Watched Episode 1 of Adam Curtis' latest series. Not sure what his point is about computers, but it was fascinating seeing Ayn Rand, and some of the financial history was good. Half-way through, Pen got interested, so we watched it again from the beginning, together. He is a compelling film-maker, but I didn't quite get the 'network' connection.

Then an episode of Nurse Jackie, and cuddling up, and slumber.

June 9

2011-06-09T20:26:00.005+12:00

Oscar staying home today, so a much more leisurely morning. Chatted to Poppy on the way in. Dropped the girls off near the College of Ed to walk.

Pfaffed about far too much at work. Delivered DVD, talked raptors with Gil, tried not to work on the Elspeth talk, went to the Edius forum to find out why Edius crashes on export, did some organising, phone-calls, etc. Wrote diary.

Tired. Talked over TECP361 dvds with Nicki Dabner and Pat Shepherd. I'd like the College of Ed story to properly figure in Herbert's report on e-learning post quake, but I'm not sure how to manage this. There is a lot of scorn, bitterness and erosion of goodwill out there.

At lunchtime, drove out to Hornby (Klondyke Place) to alu-fix, and lo! the broken hinges for the front door (Poppy sez HI!) are replaced! The woman apologised for the price, but at $27 each they are cheaper than the $45 we paid for the last two. Bought three... hope a/ I can install them without having to remove the door, and b/ they will make the front door work properly again.

Found it hard to concentrate after lunch. So I abandoned Elspeth and went to work on the Mudfish. Oh dear: I did stuff things up a little. Not just the wide shots at the beginning with the macro bumped, but also a big patch with no audio... shame, cos what I've got will work quite well, but more of Jon talking on-site would be good.

Still: there's a reasonable 5-8 minute piece lurking in in the rubble.

Almost 5 when I got a call from poppy- at the Ricc Mall shopping for Toby. Ah yes: Toby's 21st tomorrow. So I head down in the fast darkening, and find there are no chargers at Dick Smiths. Downcast for about 5 mins- but Noel Leeming have them in stock, and $2 less. Yay!

Meet Poppy, who gives me her rice-ball. We pick the twins up from Emma's. Sarah and Seamus are nice, and the boys engaging. But my, it's soooo clean!

Emma's new puppy has to go: Flynn is allergic to him. Sad.

Drive home in the dark, stew for dinner. Pen is waiting for the netball (I hope never to pay Sky a cent). I am waiting to read the final chapter of Archer's Goon.

But alas, the twins, having been read Alana in the bath with Pop, fell asleep. So the Goon must wait. Found and squashed the louse that had been making my head crazy-itchy.

Aussies won a sharp game of netball.

And so.

Dear Dairy: June 8

2011-06-09T09:39:00.004+12:00

Penny has started writing a diary. How 19th century, I thought. And then I thought some more.

And decided it was an interesting idea, and maybe I would try it for a week, and I would use blogger, cos it's here, and because I've always seen it as my diary, rather than anything anyone else will read.

Though I've come to realise it's not the place to fully, crudely, express how I feel about work.

So- June 8.

Mild head-cold.

Rushed over the hill and through town because we left late, and the twins had to be at school before 9 to catch a bus to the northwest festival practice day. We made it... which meant the studio lights were on, camera fired up, and I was emailing an audio file to a lecturer when Herbert and then Antoine turned up for interviews about flexible learning in the aftermath of the quake. Alan followed, and then I hastily sent some files to Scratch for Janelle and walked over to a meeting with marketing.

Once again rubbing up against other people's frustration with the University. and once again we re-invent stuff. Dave, the new head of marketing, is keen on a sort of marketing UCTV. He sees the content as student generated (with prizes- I'd make something myself for a Fiji holiday :))

Interesting, but...

Greg showed me some nice implementation of video galleries of short student 'testimonials'. I didn't know they were there. I think they were shot, in fact, by Eve, the photographer. Clips not streamed, simply hosted .flvs on the servers.

Yet again: another individual initiative heading off on its own to- who knows where. It drives me a little crazy, even when I like what people are doing.

I'm coming to the realisation: my job is changing, as is the University. University life won't ever be the same. This is down to a combination of current management, long-term erosion of funding levels, and new ways of thinking about the value of Universities- factors that are worldwide.

Ditto Christchurch. Never the same again. Mostly down to the earthquake.

Ditto New Zealand: now 7th worst in the OECD in income inequality, 2nd only to the US I think in imprisoning our own, and heading in the wrong direction.

And maybe the world, too: food shortage, global warming, economic system teetering.

This avalanche of change is unsettling for an old guy, but I have to accept it or go crazy. Each step into the unknown. We shuffle forward, carefully extending each foot, feeling for firm ground, as I do when walking down to the generator without a light on a dark night- or we just stride on, out the opened window, not knowing what floor we're on. Expect the unexpected. Worry for the kids. Keep an open mind...

Ate lunch while burning CDs, the computer/edius/disc burner crashing when I try to encode dvds. Something has crept in: "corrupted mpgs in the temp folder" is a clue, not an answer.

The afternoon kicked off with a discussion with AV of integrating services. It all seemed to flow around format shifting. Gil was bitter and unhappy. Wayne was more-or-less only interested in metrics; systems for measuring how long we spent on each task.

I find this mind-numbing.

We cheered up towards the end, agreeing to share space, set up some AV gear here; that tasks/requests will come to me via Julie (she will get the metrics rolling!); that Andrew and Matt will happily share some of the work if possible. It's a mess, and we skirted some things. clearly there is a 'no money, no chance' attitude from SMT and we will continue to work bitsily in the absence of any vision from above. But we can get on with each other, at least.

Managed to burn the DVD, and picked up the twins in the dark. Arrived home and Poppy and Toby were just agreeing what to cook for dinner. Combed Oscars hair for lice. Gina grumbled about sick kids at school, and he may not go tomorrow. He's very clingy, seems insecure, and hard to get to sleep.

Second to last chapter of Archer's Goon (the twins are now finding it very exciting) and finally, after Oscar dozed off, P and I watched the second episode of series two of Treme. Great characters and dialogue, moderately engaging plot lines (they have to keep a host of characters alive each episode) but it's the music- the spirit of the music that really gets me.

Especially one short sequence of a kid, maybe 10, playing brilliant experimental blues on a keyboard in a music shop. Almost all the characters are on a downward spiral at the moment: Davis lost his job, the bar isn't working out, the chief's insurance company won't pay out for his wrecked house; the Dutch busker, who's just been robbed of his cash-jar by kids on the street, looks in at this kid in the music store and smiles grimly.

You can't tell if he's pissed off at being out-played by a 10-year-old or affirmed in his love for NO where this musical brilliance just seems to rise up out of the busted sidewalks.

Oscar came up a couple times, but on the third return to bed, about 12:20, he slept through the night.

I was talking to the piano

2011-05-23T12:25:00.004+12:00

and the piano started talking back.

"Shut up!" I said.

"No, you shut up" said the piano.

I don't like being talked back to by any of the furniture.

"You're out of line" I said. "And you're out of tune. You're a dust-magnet and you don't pull your weight."

The piano got huffy.

"I'm an instrument. I'm not a bloody lump of furniture like that lazy, useless sofa. If you could play me, you'd know. I'm a sensitive-"

"I'll play you" I said. So I did-

Carry Me Down

2010-11-01T11:03:00.001+13:00

Turning 50 and writing songs about dying. Hey ho.
Visited Dad in an age-care facility in Kaikohe, for his 90th birthday. I was tempted to use pictures of Dad in this, but it's his private business and the song isn't about Dad.
Lots of bum notes. Wish I could sing in tune.

Rosanne and Johnny Cash

2010-06-22T17:32:00.004+12:00

35 librarians- ah, now for lunch.

2010-05-04T15:25:00.004+12:00

Members of the Tertiary Education Union at the University of Canterbury have reacted with anger and dismay to the latest change proposal in which fifty-eight staff positions are targeted for disestablishment.
Thirty-five of these positions are in the university's libraries.

It is the opinion of members that the roles proposed in place of those marked for redundancy do little to consolidate the expertise and institutional knowledge that are a hallmark of the work done at this university. The proposed replacement of the professional librarians who lead the university's libraries with Centre Manager roles is of particular concern, as is the Vice-Chancellor's as-yet-untested claim that the ongoing employment of senior librarians would occur at the cost of academic jobs elsewhere in the university.

The Tertiary Education Union has represented its members throughout the submissions process associated with the multiple change proposals under Project STAR. It has worked not only in defence of members' positions but also of members' own vision for the university. Its views are informed by the deep expertise and experience of its members, from new staff who have joined the university from other institutions to those who have served the Canterbury community for many decades.

It is the view of the union that the labour force of a large public institution such as the University of Canterbury is an asset, not a liability, and that positive outcomes for the future are best achieved by treating it as such.

This from the president of our local UC branch of the tertiary education union.
And so it is: the barbarians are not at the gate, they are at the helm at the University of Canterbury.
The library is the core of a university: heart and brain. You cannot hack away at it without damaging the institution.
I could go on at length about what a complete farce of inHuman Relations uncompetence and Managerial Flatulence the whole "Project Star" has been. (And I started out as being modestly in favour of it: the University does have some odd management practices, and there was- and will be- plenty of siloing, excess of managers and duplication of services.)
But... usually when you cut services you have a vision of how to better provide them. Usually you know what people do (or what 'functions' they 'fill' in the Inhuman Relations Vision) before sacking them.
I can- and, sigh- do!- vent about 'project star' for hours (they spelt the name backwards, a local wit proclaimed). And that wouldn't touch on the debacle at the College of Education.
I seem to need to vent because I feel powerless. There is some fight-back (the Academic Board gave a solid push) but we are divided, herded into seperate corrals,and there is little opportunity to take a public stand.
And while real damage is being done to a major public institution- that feels wrong too.

2009-12-24T19:42:00.007+13:00

Merry Christmas!

Oscar has taken to sleeping under the tree.

More time lapsing

2009-12-21T09:42:00.003+13:00

Bones healed, more-or-less. Dell laptop dies, and then so does the HD of replacement thinkpad T42, along with some parts of "Seasons of the Boat".

Summer hits. A rare night at the world's best bar= the wunderbar, Lyttelton.

More time, more short short summer nights.

Less time alive.

Timelapse experiment 1

2009-08-09T13:29:00.004+12:00

While charging around one night, head fizzing with picture and timelapse ideas, I stood in a shadow and broke a bone in my foot. This has put a damper on any timelapse experiments- and thrown the standard daily round here into a strange perspective.

Hobbling about, and limited to a 16Mb card on the camera, the first few attempts at timelapse have been fun, anyway.

2009-07-28T23:18:00.001+12:00

Playing with a new toy: a 'powershot' A460 canon digital camera- plus CHDK (the canon hack development kit)

Been wanting to do some timelapse photography since last winter. I have a few projects in mind, including one of Awakeri at anchor, titled by cyber-friend Merc "The Season of the Boat." Ideally it'll be tide in, tide out- and, ahm, again. In all sorts of weather, with a lot of fast-moving clouds and some mood music. It may never work out, but things are looking better than last year. Last year, after extensive research, I bought a Nikon 'coolpix' 8400- which turned out to have dropped the timelapse feature of the 8000. Poppy is enjoying the Nikon... And I'm fascinated with the A460. CHDK is a sprawling project that uses software hacks to tap the full potential of cheap canon 'point-and-shoot' cameras. It's been developed by an unruly collection of enthusiasts- there are gaps and maddening frustrations- but also a remarkable collaborative success. So 'raw' unprocessed picture data is possible- all manner of bracketing- and the ability to over-ride, tweak and automate a whole range of features. Mostly I'm intrigued with the possibilities of time-lapse, and very long exposure times at night. But very fast exposures- and motion-detection quick enough to capture lightening- sound cool.

The Dankest Winter in Living Memory

2009-07-07T18:32:00.004+12:00

We are beset with under-runners and foul weather. Only the hope of a week or two living on hard-tack and hiding out from swine-flu keeps our spirits up. Awakeri has an itchy bottom, due to an infestation of crabs (and barnacles.)
There's now an 'add video' button on blogger: this seems dangerous.
I'm going to try it...

this is a video I made recently. Compressed in the fancy-schmancy h264. Hey ho- it seems to work!

Summer at Windward Farm

2009-01-11T14:06:00.004+13:00

Took one of the HD cameras from work home and got a chance to shoot a few scenes round the farm.

Blogger won't let me embed it- or I don't know how to get the html right. But it's here: Windward

Marching through March, angsting through April

2008-04-02T22:09:00.003+13:00

There are paces in life, sometimes steady and measured, sometimes disciplined and militaristic, sometimes a long slog.
Or you can go loopy-loo and skip through the daisies one minute; loppy-la-la swung through the trees by your hair the next.
I dunno what the rhythm is at the moment, feel like I'm slouching out of step. No plans or dreams on the boil; a sort of sleep-walking with banal vistas interupted by odd forays into the bizarre.

Ruatoki Revisited

2007-11-10T23:13:00.001+13:00

The Ureweras

In 1963 the Stowells- Bob, Anne, Laurel and I- moved to Ruatoki for a year. Dad had a job teaching English at the high school, run by a straight-backed former Major of the Maori Battalion.
We'd been in New Zealand for about a year: at Beeville commune in the Bay of Plenty, a few months in New Plymouth, a taste of Northland. We'd left the US- the farm in the woods of Vermont- looking for a better life, away from the madness and hysteria of cold-war, prosperity-conscious America.
I was just three: a white-haired kid floating a jandle down the Ruatoki River with his mum.

I can't remember much, and there's a level of family myth about the stories that remain which veils the reality. As if myths are not real...

In 1993 Penny and I were at a family wedding in Whakatane, and we drove up to Ruatoki. I wanted to find the house on the rise above the school we lived in for that year. Ruatoki has hit the headlines; balaclava-clad commando figures that do not look like police; road-blocks and rumours; a secret army training in the hills; moko and myth.

I needed to take another look at the house and the place. Here are some stills culled from casual roadside vhs video taken in 1993.

This is the house we lived in in 1963.

The blue house was next-door. I remember the two as twins, sitting on the hill- but now there are more houses, and these two are not so alike.

The Ruatoki River.

Once upon a time, this house was a vibrant new pink.

There were several marae in the area. This is not the main Ruatoki wharenui.

Horses grazed the roadside freely.

A church at another marae.

We didn't see many people, and I was shy with the camera. I'm glad I recorded at least one person.

"Mt Somers Day hath all too short a lease..."

2007-04-20T16:24:00.000+12:00

...and back again

2007-03-17T00:22:00.000+13:00

Jan 9.

Warm summer morning. We stretched and grunted and slowly awoke. Had coffee, chocolate and a swim. By 10 the NE was getting up, and we started tacking out.

A relaxing sail out to the heads, but once there, we sat tossing, and elected to start the motor. For an hour or so, as soon as we'd get the motor running, the breeze would seem to get up, only to die as I turned the 'rude off. We had a few speights I'd frozen that were quite cold. Into the afternoon, the wind steadied a little.

Before leaving, I'd checked the marine forecasts. Two days of NE, 5-10 knots, small chance of a little n'west, etc. A km or so off Godley head, we started to get a good southerly. It was quite warm, and at first I couldn't believe it. Soon it was up 15+ knots and quite a battle. And still rising steadily. Jonno got the jib down, and we snuck- ok, banged and flapped- into Little Port Cooper, fixin' to reef. A couple of motor-boats were selfishly hogging the only pile. We had to put in the straggliest reef I've ever sailed under, pulled hither and thither under the cliffs and about the open bay. Then we headed back out, and it still wasn't easy sailing. We made slow but steady progress tacking up-harbour. On our second tack, under the cliffs between Little Port Cooper and Camp Bay, a big cruising motorboat offered help, but we waved them off cheerily. At the same time, I was a bit worried. Checking the LPC wind records after I was back at work, it was about 20 knots that hour- and generally you can count on max gusts being about half that again. 30 knot gusts throw Awakeri over, and bat her about. It's slow progress with the wind pulling up steep little waves, against the ocean rollers. We were getting wet. While we were coping ok, I just didn't want the wind to come up any more.

Approaching the big yellow bouy that bobs about off the rocky north shore of the harbour, about a km in from Godley Head, one of the two metal straps holding the rudder gudgeons to the rudder snapped. They've done this before. I could just hold the rudder into a semi-steering position while the remaining straps were intact, but the metal was twisting badly. We flapped along quartering the sea, pushed back downwind towards Godley Head.

Fortunately, Awakeri has a spare rudder. It was probably the original, substituted for the deeper, simpler dagger-board, which gives a bit more bite. (She needs it. When she tips- and she's quite tippy- the rudder starts to come out of the water, and you have to fight it not to lose steerage and come into the wind. If you tip enough, you just do come sliding helplessly into the wind, like it or not- not necessarily unsafe, but she can be a pig to get back under control. Sigrids' design balance is not quite right, tho' once you know them, mostly workable.)

Jonno jumped below and found the spare. AB Poff was a fine deck hand all trip, bouncing about on the foredeck in big seas, but this was his finest moment. We improvised a tiller out of the boat-hook, a stainless-steel spinnaker pole, a paddle, and some twine. Tacking on- into and out of the shelter of Camp Bay; past Ripapa Island, Purau, Diamond Harbour- the wind, tho still gusty, seemed to drop intensity. (Sidebar: There are no pics of the rough stuff. We were all too busy, Jonno's camera had no battery and it was too wet to risk a camera anyway).

Dropped Crispin off about 5, and Jonno took a look at this craft- and had a chat with Andrew Fagan, one-time Mocker, on an orange circumnavigation. The wind was down to maybe 15 knots as we trundled up towards the Head of the Harbour. Little rain squalls came and went. We were wet. Started eating lollies, peanuts and apples. I knew the tide wasn't in til 9ish- quite late- and we couldn't arrive too early. But I wasn't paying enough attention, and we ran aground on the shoal off King Billy Island. Immediately tried to get the center-board up, but it was jammed. I could see the wire cable had moved out of the groove that holds it in place- scraped off on the bottom no doubt. We managed to get off the shoal by tipping her right over- aided by some decent gusts- and we skulked off across the bay. In slightly deeper water on the MP side (off Boulder Bay), I stripped off and standing and slipping around on the muddy bottom, tried with feet and hands to pull the wire free, and get it back into place. NO go. The boat was moving constantly. I got in and out several times. Jonno tried to wedge things free from inside the cabin with wire. After almost getting it, then spending another ten minutes in the surprisingly warm water, I started to shiver uncontrollably, and went below and put on clothes, wet as I was, and the lit the little gas cooker and made tea.

We were just finishing when Alice came out with a canoeful of good cheer. Of course they'd been watching... Poppy followed soon after. I was indecisive. With the centre-board down, the beach was not a good home for Awakeri. But I thought what the heck.... and started the motor to come in- and at least get some gear ashore. We took off with a pleasing roar and the mast fell down. While standing and swimming alongside, I'd been holding the stays, and I must've almost completely loosened one of the turnbuckles. Remarkably there was no injury or damage to be seen. We pulled the mast in, rolled up and stowed the main, and raised the mast. Then Jonno, Alice and Poppy went in with a load of gear, and I quite quickly managed to get the cable sorted with my toes, and had the centreboard up before they got back.

Relief greatly lightens the spirits. Moored Awakeri and carried big loads up the hill, feeling a little touched by an angel. I need to break up the reassuring normality of routine family life by doing things like this de temps en temps. But it was grand to be home, beaming back at Oscar, kissing the twins goodnight, enjoying Penny's friendly ribbing. Sailing is great but sometimes it's like banging yr head against a brick wall- the stoppin' really satisfies too.

To Pigeon Bay

2007-03-16T23:27:00.000+13:00

It's now mid March. I've been back at work for two months. The holidays are receeding into the haze.
And here I am just getting to Jan 8. The interweb is so durned immediate, n'est-ce pas?

Jan 8.
I told Jonno and Crispin I'd meet them about 10 in Lyttelton. They were late. I found this out as I txtd them to say I'd be late, tacking up-harbour past Quail Island in a steady but fairly light breeze.
They'd have another coffee, they decided.
Lyttelton's inner harbour moorings are half-way a yacht basin again. (The "marina storm" did that much good.) The little float can be quite busy, but this was a Monday morning. Crispin and Jonno clambered aboard, slung in some bags, and we slipped out past the other yachts, sitting tight.

11:00 til about 2 or 3 pm we tacked out in a wavering NE. Godley Head slipped behind us, and we sailed past a tanker in the Roads. And out. Further I think than I've taken Awakeri- 4-5 kms at least.

The big greasy rollers in light weather made Cris quite ill. It squelched all of us a little. Deep nausea is dreadful; when you're sea-sick well out to sea, you can start to feel hopeless. On the Australis I can remember being queasy for days. It's not life-affirming. So we took a long wandering tack into Little Pigeon Bay. As we went in, a curious scow motored past and into Pigeon Bay.

It was quiet and hot in Little Pigeon. Starting the motor, I broke the starter chord- I'm thinking guiltily that it's still not fixed- on the second pull. But the same pull started the engine and we putted in.

Stopped and discovered we could still start the engine, because smart designers built a round pulley you can wind the cord onto, right on top of the shaft. Quite tricky to get the plastic cover back on the engine though, with the engine's exposed head whirling, and you're heaving and pitching in any sea. ( Sidebar: I've got a smallish two-cylinder 4 horse evinrude. I should have held out for a 6. But after 18 months scouring the buy sell and echange- and rejecting another very cheap, old four- I bought this one in about 1997 for $400. The guy told me it was a 1982 model, and I believed him, because when I arranged a time to come round to see him, it was a Sunday, and he said not til after 11 as he'd be at church, and christians don't lie, do they? A mechanic checked the serial # and it's a 1976. Awakeri is also a '75 or 76. They've got on well. She generally starts like a dream. Once I didn't touch it for three years, and it started second pull. It's taken us through a few passages. But it's not a long-distance engine, less reliable when hot. )

Little Pigeon Bay is still my favourite anchorage. We moored up in the sun, and went ashore. Solid rock livened Crispin up, and soon he was only light green.
We walked up the ridge, finding, as you do, that ridge-tops kept disolving into other ridges, each promising the top.
But getting ashore at Little Pigeon involved stretching, scraping, possibly getting wet. It wasn't easy enough for the lilly-livered, weaselish paltroons I'd press-ganged. We had a glorious swim in the cold sea, and started the 'Rude (I have never before called it this, and may never again) heading for Pigeon Bay, a jetty, and an actual toilet. The sea was up round the point, but the wind had right dropped away. I didn't want Cris, who was feeling restored, chundering again. So we motored along at a grand 3-4 knots, enjoying the harbour- but a little shocked at the impact of an extensive mussel-farm. It's not a pretty business.

The scow was anchored in Holmes Bay. We tied up at the wharf.

The evening meandered along- a bottle of wine, some rice and tuna, companionable talk. Some kids came and bombed off the jetty posts. We put out a bow anchor, and stretched a stern line back in a loop we could easily slip. It was very still- the low heave of the ocean, the occasional scrawk of an oyster-catcher, stars everywhere. I'd brought a hunk of trampoline safety mat, which was useless as a mattress. The narrow cockpit bench I tried to sleep on was bloody uncomfortable.

Awakeri Logbook

2007-02-27T15:34:00.000+13:00

Launching.
Somehow this was delayed until after Christmas- and even then, with one thing and another, it was 9pm before she slid off the rusty trailer at Charteris Bay and into the water. I waved goodbye to Penny, bumped a few rocks, and we were sailing.

She was covered in sawdust... but snuck out into the gloaming on a gentle breeze.

The cartoon sea shimmered in the dying light.

As is common around nightfall, the breeze was dying- and as I neared King Billy Island, it was almost 10- and I was a little concerned about getting through the passage- and missing the tide at home.

But- with a couple of tacks in the narrowest part- I snuck through- and whizzed across to Manson's Pt on a nice 6 knots. Then just off the beach, the wind died almost completely- and it took another 20 minutes to get in. Anchored and secured by moonlight- great to have her back in action.

Jan 3.

Poor weather- a series of southerlies and rain- has plagued the summer. One sunny afternoon however I nipped down for a quick sail. A southerly was blowing through, and I was lucky that even while the beach is sheltered, I was getting blasts that indicated it was fierce. So I put the reef in before heading out- which took quite a while, but proved worth it.
Sailed across to Moepuku and back- and that was enough. The gusts were howling- and I was having trouble keeping her up, spilling wind, struggling. I still think it was gusting well over 30 knots- although the Lyttelton Port Company figures show 26 ish gusts, this is a one-minute average, and the gusts were fairly short. When I got back, big Bridget wondered why I'd been so quick. Long Beach is right out of the Southerly, and the sun was hot.

Jan 5.
Beautiful evening sail in 6-12 knots. Cruised up-harbour, tacking into Cass Bay, and over to Diamond Harbour, before a fast run down to Church Bay- taking in the sewage plant, various houses and jetties, and a good look at Black's Point- soon to be "developed" with a preposterous 50 houses. Back through the King Billy passage and home.

2Incurable

2006-11-20T16:23:00.000+13:00

Poppy's written a few good songs- now she has her own year 8 band. They're called 2Incurable, they've been practising once a week most of the year- and here is their very first public performance. (They do have a couple of other songs...)

New Foals

2006-10-02T12:56:00.000+13:00

Penny's been asking me to put some footage of the Connemara stud up on the web. Two new foals this September seemed like a good reason. It's complete with a cheesy voice-over, and genuine kiwi bluegrass mandolin, from my late great mate Ken Nichol. So I thought I should post it here, too....

2006-08-14T17:07:00.000+12:00

Ricky - The Bible (animals)

Any evilutionists out there? Mr Gervais has news for you!

2006-08-10T14:58:00.000+12:00

u-tube

The dank weight of the mighty University of Canterbury looms over the defenceless College of Education. Desperate staff pin their hopes on- well, you'll have to watch the video to find out what happens! Keen to keep up wif youf kulcha i bunged it on youtube.
(Keen-eyed observers will note that this is part III - however there's a recap which pretty much sums up the miniscule content of parts one and two.)

May

2006-05-05T11:40:00.000+12:00

The winter term stretches ahead, bleak and grey. I'm hoping the sun will someday return. Job.... from dull to tedious. And the school morning routines are bleak: arise at 6:15, make 6 lunches, coffee, wake people up, feed the little kids, pack their bags and get them dressed and shod and brush their hair; herd them to the van.
We had a glorious holiday over Easter and right through to Anzac day. April 22nd I had J, B and O down at the beach. It was glorious.

The water was cold, but we all still went swimming. Oscar particularly loved climbing on Awakeri- and jumping off, as well!

A glorious holiday, during which I got in a few hasty sails, a couple of morning motors with the little kids, went swimming and built a long-drop.

Now it's horrendous petrol prices, and the prospect GWBush might just start a war with Iran in a desperate bid to save his "legacy" as president (douple or quits?). I can't imagine congress or the senate voting to give him the sort of powers they did in '02... but with Rove on the case (between supoenas) who knows how it'll spin.

I've been trying to get back into recording some music- a couple of new tracks, and some older songs I'm re-inspired to work on thanks to Sampletank. It's a "sampleworkstation"- but it does the work for you- and it has very good sounds. There's a free version you can download here:, (look for the "downloads" tab) with a limited number of sounds. It's very good. (While the sounds are limited, if you can get hold of the whole range, it's quite complete in its own way, including: a few drumkits, three different guitars, a nice Hammond b3, a good electric piano, and terrific "accoustic" piano, alto sax, and solo violin. I've bought an "le" version that comes with a basic GM soundset, and it feels like I could do anything.... if I only had the skill!

Eat a Peach

2006-03-20T15:33:00.000+12:00

Or better still, plant a peach tree.
Of all the trees we've planted, few are as rewarding as fruit trees. And one of the best of these has been the Golden Queen peach.

This is the first year we've got a decent crop- and it's been delicious and plentiful. The birds get quite a few, but there are plenty for us. Some of my happiest childhood memories relate to eating fruit from the tree (not always legitimately), and it's something I want to pass on to the kids.

And tree-ripened on your own tree does taste better. Even when they're firm and not-quite-ripe, Golden Queens are good eating- not so juicy that they drip have to down the chin. At full ripeness, they are sweet nectar (and they drip- but it's worth it).

It's already getting cooler, the seasons shifting gear again. That's part of what gives bite and savour to my current life. The peaches won't be here for long. But they are glorious. And they are here NOW. Bite.

Painting is over: now for a slew of photos.

2006-02-07T13:13:00.000+13:00

Awakeri's looking smart. I'm still not totally in love with the colours, but she's ready for the water.

And here's picture of Ollie....

And the twins, with an enormous apple from one of our trees. It's called, I think, "Nonesuch Bastard". Bred for cooking, the apples are pretty sour until they get very ripe. The twins, on the other hand, are very sweet.

Well, that's pics sussed. I guess the next thing is audio...

Picture this.

2006-01-27T17:01:00.000+13:00

Of course adding a picture is a simple as clicking on the little picture icon. Shame on me.
This one's stolen off the net: it shows the head of Lyttelton harbour, looking east from the summit road that meanders around the top of the western port hills.
Manson's Peninsula is the long finger pointing out towards Quail Island- right in the centre of the picture. It's 72 hectares/180 acres, with about 12 hectares of forestry, maybe 20 hectares of scrubby gorse-and-broom infested eroding steep hillside, a hectare or two of bush and a series of paddocks.
We live on the other side, about 2/5ths of the way out. I am hoping to do some landscape/house photography soon, and put up some more pics.

2006- DOOM!

2006-01-26T17:16:00.000+13:00

2006: Radio NZ has public announcements about the precautions we should have in place for a pandemic (birdflu); there's a lot of talk about peak oil- economic growth worldwide being based on ever-more gluttonous consumption; the New Zealand economy looks like crashing; and the Chch College of Education- where I work- losing jobs, cutting back, hunkering down- and about to be swallowed by a monster....
In the midst of all this end-is-nigh apocolypse-approacheth noise, daily life keeps rolling slowly on. Cars to fix, kids to feed, horses to water. It's easy enough to blank out the noise in the hubbub chez Stowell/Mahy.
Ok, maybe I don't live in paradise- there are mosquitoes, the tide goes out and we're surrounded by mud, and I'm pretty sure paradise has a river or two flowing melodiously- while we get mighty dry.
But life is pretty good for us. There's a spot by one of our water-troughs I've sat some evenings lately- waiting for the trough to fill. There are trees, copses, forest all around, now, surrounding the paddocks. If I'm lucky I'll see the flash of a kingfisher- blue and tan. We've planted a couple of gullies in bush- and bell-birds come for the flax-nectar. Quail are everywhere this year, and a family- semi-comical- usually comes out of the macrocarpas to fossick and dust-bathe on the track.
It's a beaut place to be of an evening- dirty water swirling from tank to trough (lots of mosquito larva) and birds all settling to sleep. One day I'll work out how to post pictures. Until then, I just wish everyone could have a moment or two of this peace.
Ka kite
A sort of postscript: here's the spot. Sorry, couldn't catch a quail!

awakeri

2005-12-13T10:22:00.000+13:00

The world seems to be spinning like a top; Christmases rush past, kid's birthdays pile up, weather happens and then suddenly we're into another round: just the same but different.
I've been sanding the boat, stripping paint, musing over it. I've already spent more than it's worth getting Stark Bros to rip out the rot in the port gunwale, replace the rubbing strakes (with two beautiful pieces of nut-brown hardwood) and fix some leaks.
Stark Bros have a cavernous shed next to the dry-dock, and right next to Awakeri was a fishing boat, just finished. Frank said it was a little bigger than is economical to build of wood, but they have to keep staff busy, so they build them on spec...
About 55 ft, and beamy, it looked ocean-going, though I gather it's aimed at the overnight/fresh fish trade. The bronze propeller gleamed in the dusky light. The caulking was fresh, awaiting its first coat of paint. I felt the world was a better place just in the knowledge that Stark Bros in Lyttelton were still building wooden ships.
They did a pretty good job on the Sigrid, but there's lots more to do. The trailer is a mess, the outboard is dodgy, and just the painting will cost a lot of time and another wad of money. But it's not really about money or equivalent value: I'm investing something else in her.
Starting work this Saturday, I loved the smell of it: some paint and saw-dust; a musty salt undertow. I'm pondering paints: everything has changed since the last painting- about a decade ago. Epiglass have become "International". You can't get "Cove Green"- or anything much like it, and I LIKE cove green... Two pot epoxy paints are the rage, but won't go over a one-pot first coat, and I'm not stripping everything back to wood.
But as I start, I'm thinking- she's going to look great. The new rubbing-strakes emphasise her rather graceful sheer. I'm going to fill in the nail-heads, and the cracks in the cabin roof. A beige/cream deck and top-sides, and either a darker green or perhaps royal blue hull.
She's gonna look smart. And I can already smell the salty wind; feel it on my cheek; envisage Godley Head slipping astern.

biting my nine-inch nails

2005-09-16T09:44:00.000+12:00

election day tommorrow and it really is (chose cliche) too close to call/ a cliff-hanger/ a nail-biter etc.
personally i think brash would be a dreadful prime minister. oddly enough, i'd rather he was in power with the detestable peters, who he can't possibly get along with, but who is unlikely to roll over for a dry trickle-down monetarist economy.
in the nineties the economy stagnated, productivity did not grow, unemployment was relatively high. what did grow was the gap between rich and poor. that's the one thing brash's policies are certain to increase.
tax-cuts are hard to roll back, and national's proposed cuts would undoubtedly leave us with less government into the distant future.
they'd also move us into an america style polity: the rich richer, government struggling to provide services- and therefore the market as an alternative made to look good- and most of us defined as "not mainstream".
brash is clearly influenced by america. i've never heard phrases like "not one dime", "lousy" and "baloney" used in nz politics the way he uses them. i don't know where he's coming from but this language must be a clue. way out of touch.
as reserve bank governor, he strangled the nz economy in the nineties. on record as believing we need 6% unemployment to keep inflation down. on record as blaming the unemployed. go figure.
labour have run a poor campaign, considering. no inspiring rhetoric, no clear and defining vision, no devasting analysis of national and brash's (he's act's ninth mp...) woeful scenario.
but they do present a clear alternative. LPG would make a good government.
here's hoping.

don't necessarily do it yourself

2005-08-12T14:53:00.000+12:00

I've been sweating over an appeal to the environment court about recent changes to the Banks Peninsula District plan. Not sweating 'cos I'm working hard, but because I feel so out of my depth.
And that's become a bit of a watchword. I have a mate who used to rail against the kiwi "do it yerself" mentality: specifically when he had to get his home completely re-wired on discovering the previous owner- a manic do-it-yerselfer- had turned it into a electrical death trap.
"Get a professional" he'd mutter whenever anything like that came up.
Well, we might reach for a lawyer here. The "new" district plan hit on Jan 1 1997; come 2005 and variation 2 is heading for the appeals court. It's been a schmozzle. Forests have been reaped, chipped, spewed forth from printers and dispatched far and wide. One package we got was about 8" of solid A4 - with maybe 5% of content- and at least 300 of these were sent out.
The problem here is the RMA- resource management act- which is (am I saying this?) perhaps too democratic. Everyone is entitled to their say, which is messy enough. But worse, it seems to be vague in crucial ways, so pretty much everyone interprets it to suit themselves.
Enter lawyers in yellow spats.
But what I really want to get off my chest is what a bitsy "little bit of everything and no real expertise" life I lead. Is this typical of the age? The place? Or just me.
At work I don't just shoot and edit video- I often also do sound, write scripts, make calls, fix computers, etc etc. And I like it!
Then when I want to make music... all of a sudden I'm the (mediocre) song-writer, lyricist, talentless talent, tuneless singer, bad guitarist, arranger, drum-looper, bass simulator, recording engineer, mixing engineer... the studio chief with full responsibility for buying gear and the sad geek (yeah, I really do love it) who has to learn and operate half-a-dozen programmes.
Not surprising I do these things poorly.
Then again, I don't have to feel too bad- 'cos I have other roles in life.
I'm not just a husband and father.
I'm a farmer, fencer, farrier, fire-wooder, and forester. I maintain (badly) 2 chainsaws, a brushcutter, two generators, a petrol-driven pump, an outboard, two mowers, and three motor vehicles. Oh and general repairs on a horse-float, an off-the-grid power system, and a whole bunch of water-tanks and plumbing disasters. Did I mention I'm also a shed-builder? And a sheep-dog (if you've never tried to round up a small mob of very elusive sheep on rough terrain without an actual four-legged sheep-dog- don't. Well, don't if your wife is the other part of the team and she's not in an exceptionally- as in just dropped six tabs of ecstasy- good mood.)
That's just a taste of the outside jobs- not counting track maintanance, spraying, native forest regeneration and- I'll shut up now.
Of course all this isn't done well. And it's often not done at all when it could/should be. Hey, there are meals to cook, dishes to wash, kids to look after. And the mouldering boat of my dreams ...
But as I've been reading up on the district plan, I'm also thinking about the resource and building consents I need to file for the sleepout and 3-bay farm shed (to be built by real builders- thank god.) And problems with the inverter. And I'm feeling just slightly s t r e t c h e d.
Not complaining. But I fear a tombstone that reads:
He did a lot. Most of it was inoffensive if ineffectual. But there WAS that HUGE stuff-up with the Envirnoment Court/sheep pen/time the wheel fell off the horse-float....

midi life crisis

2005-07-25T16:23:00.000+12:00

I've been playing around with music on the 'puter. Essentially trying to get a bunch of old and new songs out of my head. Baggage disposal. And way fun too.
Anyway, I've got an assorted bunch of hardware and software and a heap of "projects" on the go and/or in my head. Recently I finally and hurriedly "finished" a song and posted it on garageband.com for review.
Garageband is a great idea. Anyone can put up songs/have a band webpage. There's a pretty serious competition for top spots- won by getting the best reviews- and a lot of good- and not so good- free music.
What you have to do in return for hosting and peer reviews of your music is review other people's songs- reasonably seriously, cut and pasters are anathema and get dumped. After 15 pairs of reviews- and this is a serious commitment if you do it with respect- then you get to post your own mp3.
Which- after a weekend of setting up, mucking around, and not feeling terrific, I did- a song I'd previously recorded, added some guitars, and was secretly pretty pleased with.
That didn't last. Wow did I get some bad reviews! Here's the very first reviewer:
"well, this is super amateurish. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But in this case I think that it is. For one thing, the levels - the mix - is just atrocious. But the biggest flaw here is that the melody is totally uninspired and the pitch is all over the place. I really don't have any idea what you are trying to do here. I mean what are you thinking to accomplish art-wise. Is this to be interpreted as commentary on the medium or something? Because if not, well, this just, taken at face value, is punishingly bad"
and a couple more...
"The song devolves into chaos and confusion. Meaning you had me at the beginning, but then you lost me in a big way."
"This song was different right out of the box, with the opening atonal, rhythmic groove. I didn't like the melody, which mostly existed on sing-song sounding vocals. The song never seemed pull togther into a recognizable meolody to place over a solid rhythm section."
"The chromatic half step thing is very unsettling. I can't just enjoy the music, it this for real? I guees you have to be pretty talented to song such atonal stuff, but I can't say It's fun to listen to..."
I quickly changed the "band" name (it was, I realised somewhat late, suspiciously androgenous) and I did get a few writers who liked it- even got on someone's podcast.
But most people who had some level of musicianship commented on how badly outa tune the singing- and, one noted, the rhythm guitar- were.
And they were right.
I've bought- it hasn't arrived, but I've been playing with a demo- a terrific audio programme called melodyne (I'm getting uno, the baby of the melodyne family). It DOES correct "intonation problems"- amazingly well- and that's not all. It lets you treat audio files almost as if they were midi- you can play with timing, change melodies, create harmonies, really go to town.
But it also reveals with ego-shattering clarity just how outa tune I was.
Sigh.
But just wait for the next one! Now that's bound to be good- and however banal the melody, the vocals are pretty well gauranteed to be "in" that tune.

autumn

2005-03-31T12:16:00.000+12:00

Autumn's early this year.
March 26 I took the three little kids down to the beach and we had a good swim, fossick etc under grey skies- but warm, humid, the sea friendly. On the 29th, it was cold. Still, after getting in and sprint-swimming the first few minutes, it was surprisingly pleasant. Certainly a corporal tingling upon egress, but- or perhaps because of this- uplifting.
Maybe I'm hitting an autumn phase in life, too. Grumpy. Taciturn. Quick to anger.
I feel I love the kids to bits- but I still yearn for time away. The weight of all the things I've started- all those unfinished, forgotten, or still slow-burning projects- there's a kind of panic. Time is slipping away, through my hands. I sense my "consciouness" burning time the way the world is burning oil- as if they weren't finite.

new life

2005-02-07T10:00:00.000+13:00

involves waking about 6.
making school lunches.
waking kids.
vowing yet again not to swear at them or get too furious.
leaving late.
spending (this morning) 10 minutes inching towards one particular intersection.
dropping them late for school.
sitting around with oscar waiting for his taxi (which he's not happy with.... doesn't enjoy sharing it with a couple of teenagers i think.)
arriving at work about 9 feeling ready for a good kip.
it's been a weekend of heat and swimming and very busy leisure.... so the whole family's tired and grumpy monday morning. ahh well, there's always work to look forward to.
three or five lessons to cut/script/voice... 10am and already i'm dreaming of the sea. cool, blue, the way the wind ruffles it, the salty, deep satisfying smell of it, taste of it.

christmas and cornflour

2004-12-17T17:19:00.000+13:00

without being one of those wearisome types who mutter "i hate christmas" under their breath while simultaneously kicking a small child and peeing on your granny's flowerbed- while not in that league, christmas has tended to induce a weariness in me over the last few years.
well, less so this year.
i'll never forget talking to fine new zealand author jack lasenby- an outdoors type now in his seventies. after running down the modern world for while, and bemoaning his physical state, he said with wicked (and humourous) relish- "at least i can still hate!"
he had a point.
there's something uniquely energising about hate.
and while i more-or-less endorse the john lennon/jesus line that love's what's really important, some of the ominous trends worldwide- bush, islamic jihadism, global warming- the list is endless- and here in nz - the maxim institute, puling paul holmes, the dead rat in the heater of our van- well, it's energising to have some decent targets.
so raise a glass, haha-
here's to us-
and those like us-
and to hell with the rest!
merry christmas.
unless yr a supporter/employee/paid liar from the maxim institute. in which case, look out. my trained attack weasels will rip the skin off yr anus.

what's he up to?

2004-11-24T16:34:00.000+13:00

this article in the hill, suggests Kerry might have another shot at the presidency.
while i'm impressed by kerry, it strikes a slightly sour note. maybe the vanity and ambition are stronger in jkfII than i'd imagined.
late, but here's some of the new yorker's take on nov 2.

Along with the sadness, there is puzzlement. Incumbents, especially in time of war, have a built-in advantage. But this incumbent had led the country into a war, the war in Iraq, that half the public had come to see as a mistake, and had led the country down what more than half the public saw, in pollster’s shorthand, as “the wrong track.” The election’s outcome defies logic, and perhaps that is the point. The early analyses credited Bush’s victory to religious conservatives, particularly those in the evangelical movement. In voting for Bush, as eighty per cent of them did, many of these formerly nonvoting white evangelicals are remaining true to their unworldliness. In voting for a party that wants to tax work rather than wealth, that scorns thrift, that sees the natural world not as a common inheritance but as an object of exploitation, and that equates economic inequality with economic vitality, they have voted against their own material (and, some might imagine, spiritual) well-being.

here's the full link

it's the oil, stupid.

2004-11-15T10:03:00.000+13:00

This New Yorker article, Pump Dreams, by John Cassidy, treads a little delicately around the core reason for the invasion of Iraq and why "retreat is not an option". It's certainly worth a read- the Bush/Cheney oil baron clique- right out of Dallas, in a stupid kinda way- are not about to raise taxes on gas, or mandate better mpg for cars and light trucks. But high oil prices are likely to do what they lack the guts or foresight or common sense for.
Global warning.... what globe? Isn't the earth flat, like texas?

kerry

2004-11-05T12:11:00.000+13:00

an unfortunate fact of american political life is you run for president as an almost unknown, and if you fail- obscurity.
this is a fault. I'm sure i'm not alone in hoping kerry can play a part in america's future. he's got the mana. and i don't think we can afford to discard this leader.
I'd like tos ee a sort of "opposition" that regularly issues statements and articulates where the democrats would position themselves on policy- over the next four years. we need a relatively uniform and informed and distinguished spokesperson to tell america just how and why and when and where the bush corps are destroying our liberty, prosperity, and happiness.
how about the dems appoint a spokesperson and an "shadow cabinet" and take these issues to the public for the next four years, as happens in democracies worldwide- (like here in new zealand).
the time to do it is NOW!

liberal oasis

2004-11-05T12:03:00.000+13:00

is always good. this strategy doc
is worth a permalink though. the left in the us needs to work grass-roots to move the terms of debate.
so we can talk about good government.
so a message of sharing a community means something, so we can articulate some social values that demonstrate our moral positions.
like progressive taxation is in the best interests of everyone.
like the immorality of the world's wealthiest most powerful nation having X million kids growing up in poverty.
like the immorality of the death penalty- something we hold onto in common with china and the taliban- not the civilised nations of the world.
it's a long haul and needs a lot of work.
but while mr bush the "holiday president" moans about how hard it is- we have got to do it and there's no point waiting.
in some respects time is on our side- young people today are more inclined to be progressive on a range of issues.
but if the $400 million plus that right-wing and corporate interests throw at think-tanks and "institutes" is not going to leach through the media and keep the terms of the national debate just where they want it- we have to get moving.

atheist pacifist liberals

2004-11-04T15:51:00.000+13:00

no point being coy. using (for it brings a level of comfort with it even to one of the reality based community) the "royal" we- we are atheist pacifist liberals here, and proud of it. we don't have a happy fantasy about life in the clouds with a perfect father; we do not believe in violence (jesus, we believe, was fully human but also a remarkable moral thinker) and we are liberals- in fact in many respects we are socialists. we believe america is blind to the benefits of socialism, which continuously saves capitalism's arse, by curbing its worst excesses.
and despite the re-election of bush (a deeply undemocratic man, we feel) we believe in democracy, not demagogery, and rationality over faith.
ATHEISTS UNITE! SOCIALISM FOREVER (or at least a little bit of it now and then). And a big up yr nose to those who voted bush whatever their reasons, whatever their excuse. You guys deserve him.
we also want to float another idea- succession. the great cultural gulf is widening. New England could be extended across the noreast and include Illinois Michigan and Wisconscin. It would make a fine country. The west coast would be rather like bangladesh... we jest. But it'd make another fine country, and arnie could fulfill his ambition and become president without messily having to damage the constitution.
Southerners have often floated the idea; now is the time for them to "succeed"- and if they don't WE SHOULD.

four more "yeah?"s

2004-11-04T12:46:00.000+13:00

bugger.
we lost. the forces of intolerence and unreality took a resounding victory.
henceforth we will not be as tolerent of christianlity when it blinds people to reality.
and as a lowly worm on the blogosphere, i promise to turn- nasty, maybe. but certainly to keep up the arguments.
no real reason to hope bush will be reborn as a moderate. the scary scary thing is that rove and cheney and gang have complete constitutional control of the "world's only superpower" for a while at least. (the deficits they're running may actuall bring them down. who's paying for the iraq war? actually the saudis and the chinese are lending us the cash. talk about a "global test"- wait til we have to ask those dudes if it's ok if we have another little war, please).
congress, senate, supreme court, white house. it's a clean sweep. never happened before and you can bet they're gonna play it to the max.
a world-scale distater for- international affairs. the only hope is that the rest of the world will re-unite to bolster the UN. it's our only hope!
-the environment, particularly in the US, but espeically vis a vis kyoto, the whole world will suffer.
-the cause of social justice- tax the poor, elevate the rich. boy am i glad i don't live in the US. it's gonna be vital the sort of policies that have created that mess don't emigrate here via dr brash and mr hide.
i cld analyse all day. but right now i'm gonna go out and firebomb a picture of a church!
shalom!

on a knife-edge

2004-11-02T12:24:00.000+13:00

there's bated breath all round, but also a sense of optimism in the liberal blogs. some of that is just that finally, after a fever of worry and wait and talk, people are getting to do something- and the volunteers to get out the vote know they can make a difference.
the polls are still too close to call, but i too feel a cautious optimism. kerry will make a fine president- i think the best for many decades. bush- well, if we elect him, we deserve him. but say a long goodbye to democracy, rationality, civil liberty, and peace.
anyway it's a great relief it's almost over. life will go one, whichever way it falls.
just more of us will be alive if kerry wins...

mcguane

2004-10-22T11:47:00.000+13:00

i haven't thought of thomas mcguane for yonks. but this kinda cool story popped up in the world's best magazine (i still can't quite believe it's free on the net). and anyway i wanted to try putting up a link....
anyway, mcgaune also is mentioned in the "talk of the town" section. what a cool guy.

bad feelings

2004-10-21T12:55:00.000+13:00

I've been trolling the blogoshere a little and it's scary.
Right up I should say I think Kerry likely to be a fine president and Bush a scary unthinking man. I'm a new-yorker reading atheist and social democrat who is probably by the standards of the US pretty far to the left of centre. (Of course I think I'm the epitome of sweet moderation and reasonable and considered opinions.)
Both of them have been stretching the truth- ok, lying- on the campaign trail; I hope it's not just my bias that finds the lies of Bush go deeper and to be far more sinister.
That aside, I generally find the lefty/democratic bloggers to be scathing and sarcastic about Bush, but generally more sceptical and thoughtful about politics, the world and -well, reality.
The right-wing blogs are terrifying.
First of all, they've swallowed the "Swift Boat Liars for Bush" character assassination of Kerry hook line and sinker. They regularly quote these lies as if they were incontrovertable, when they've very largely been completely and systematically debunked. So to them, Kerry is a lying, self-serving, opportunistic creep, intent on stealing their money and using it to fund abortion- or perhaps just giving it all to Osama.
And they use the most intemperate hate-language I've encountered on the web.
Second, they live in a world I hardly recognise, where anyone outside the USA is a semi-human, and hardly counts; where tax cuts are automatically good, deficits are something the democrats run, and God is indubitably on their foul-mouthed side.
Scary. Complete conviction mostly based on complete fiction.
If Bush wins, it's a tragedy for humanity (and most other living species).
But if America votes him back in, in some ways I've come to think maybe we've have got the President we deserve.
A right-wing corporate lacky, religious crank of an arrogant, incurious blinkered self-righteous puff-bag.
Did I say the right-wing bloggers use intemperate hateful language?

it's weird this year...

2004-10-18T17:54:00.000+13:00

There are a million signs this isn't an "ordinary election". For a start, it's interesting- absorbing- probably costing the nation a mint of lost productivity as people scan the blog-scape daily.
For a second, the media seem- just a little- very slowly- to be cottoning on to reality. All lies are not equal; he sez she sez isn't reporting- especially when he sez the moon is a tangerine and she sez it's not....
Yep, they're starting to call the Bush administration- right to the top- on it's "laxity" with the truth. (Liar liar....oh, sorry, we can't use the "L" word)
And on top of that, everyone seems to be angry as all get-out. I am. I've registered to vote, (in Vermont, it's purely symbolic) because GW and cronies seem to have an agenda that's foolish (iraq) and scary (imperialism, grand hubris, burn the future) and just plain WRONG (using government to redistribute wealth to the wealthy, letting corporations run the EPA, shafting social security).
But the shouting is partof the fun.
And blogs are where a whole heap of this happens.
They probably don't make much difference- who reads 'em if they're not already passionate- but then again, without passion, politics is ditchwater.
Bring on Nov 2- so I can have a life again.
On the other hand, I'll miss it.

Electoral What?

2004-10-15T14:56:00.000+13:00

Ever been to electoral college? I think that's where you learn about our weird electoral system. It's not just undemocratic- meaning, fundamentally, that the guy with the most votes doesn't necessarily get elected.
It's also weird and archaic and fundamentally (did I say this before) undemocratic.
In an election cycle increasingly dominated by money, for example, how much is your vote worth? If you live in solidly Democratic Vermont, say, both sides spent under ten cents of their campaign money trolling for your approval. Because they already know where Vermont's electoral college votes are going. (Ok, you miss out on a lot of egregious election advertising, it's not all bad). In Ohio, though, a key "swing state" (there simply ain't enuff swingers in VT, folks) your vote is "worth" about ten dollars in advertising and other spends.
Ok, I made up these figures. But I bet they're not that far off.
So lets get with the twenty-first century. Before we start trying to spread democracy like margerine across the face of the globe, we need a fairer, saner, system at home. Where each vote has equal worth. And here's the kicker- it's very simple, and (unless there's a recount...) probably cheaper.
Now don't get me started on how we count the damn things...