On Saturday I took a look at a flat just down the street. One bedroom, and at the rock bottom price of $105 a week. Okay, so I really want two bedrooms, one for use as a home-office, but the location and price seemed pretty good. At least, the location seemed pretty good, and for that location, the price seemed pretty good. If I could just win a Triple M
competition every week, I’d have the rent covered!

I quickly worked out why it was so cheap - it was tiny! Most places look big when they’re empty, but you know a place must be miniscule if it looks small when it’s empty. Not enough room to swing the proverbial cat - or a real one, for that matter. Not that I plan to be swinging cats very frequently.

So, the search continues…

Well, my wife and I are looking at a trial separation. There, that got your attention, didn’t it. A bit of soap like this should bump up the page hits on my diary. We’re still on good terms, but the unresolved issues have been piling up for a while.

So now we’re working out the logistics - finding a flat nearby for me, moving out, getting furniture, what to do with my ludicrously huge mountains of video tapes, that kind of thing. We’ll try to keep things amicable, which should help lessen the impact on the kids.

This is not going to turn into one of those scenes on The Bill where the wife locks herself in the house, the husband is thumping on the door and personal effects are being thrown out the window to the accompaniment of "Oi, you slag! Open the door!" and "Piss off you ugly git - Oh, who called the Filth?!"

So, I suppose I’d better try and get some sort of social life happening… I wonder if I can remember how… Actually, I wonder if I ever knew!

By the way, if you think I’m being rather too cheerful for someone in this less-than-desirable position, keep in mind, this diary is meant to be humorous. It would be in the Web Site Charter, if there was one. Sure, I could change the web page background to black and put in a really mournful MIDI file to play while you read this, but why bring the rest of the world down with your troubles? 

Before he baldly went where no man has gone before - Patrick Stewart with hair, in "Clavdivs"

We’ve been having a bit of a video history lesson in the last few days. We’re slowly but surely working our way through the mammoth epic "I, Claudius", better known to anyone who’s seen it as "Clavdivs".

It’s a double history lesson. Not only do we get to see the (probably slightly dramatised/exaggerated) history of the extended Roman imperial families, but we also get to see various actors and actresses from British 70’s TV in different roles. Prime example would have to be Patrick Stewart, long before he "baldly went where no man has gone before", with hair, really quite appalling hair, as the dastardly Serjanus.

Through the programme, I kept noticing familiar faces, then pondering for a few minutes until I could remember where they were from… the husband
from that family who live next to George & Mildred… the gay bloke from Allo Allo… the bloke who became Inspector Wexford… all major megastars, of course.

But then, there’s also John Hurt as Caligula, looking physically healthier than his Elephant Man or Alien roles, but definitely a few snags short of a barbeque. How else would you describe someone who murders his father, marries his sister, decides that he and she are both gods, then after she becomes pregnant… ah, but that would be telling for anybody who hasn’t seen it yet… and besides, this is a family column.

An interesting weekend; we had a house guest, one of my brother-in-law’s friends, Aaron, the type of house guest that gives a good name to house guests. Unfortunately he was only in town for just 36 hours. Hardly enough time to see very much, but he managed to see plenty. 

We did the usual touristy things - the city, Botanical Gardens, the Shrine, St Kilda, souvlaki in Richmond… for me the most memorable moment was on the Williamstown to St Kilda ferry. Young Jeremy, in his teething toddler way, was not having a great time, and at one point was offered his hat to wear, in an attempt to cheer him up. Which it did for a few seconds.

Then I saw his hands reaching for his hat. Brain Central put out an alert. If it was on TV, it would have been one of those slow-motion "Noooooooooo!" scenes, but actually to everyone else it probably just sounded like an angry "No!" I knew precisely what was about to happen, but my hands couldn’t move fast enough to stop it. Jeremy pulled his hat off and flung it away - as he often does when he’s wearing it in his pram - but this time of course, it flew off into the sea, much to the bemusement of our fellow passengers.

Being a toddler of course, he couldn’t quite grasp the concept that having thrown it away, this time, he couldn’t have it back. But also, being a toddler, I think he’d forgotten about it after few a minutes, in favour of some more pressing sources of misery, his continuing painful gums and general mid-afternoon tiredness.

But if do you happen to come across a Sesame Street hat in Port Philip Bay, drop me a line - I’m sure Jeremy would be delighted to see it again.

Letters section of today’s Age:
Actually, I wouldn’t go that far. Grateful? People were paid after all - some of them quite substantial sums of money, I’ll bet. Unless it all went to the consulting firms they worked for.

Wish it was this easy to get my web page mentioned in the newspaper.

Letters section of today’s Age:

I always feel like a bit of a crank when I e-mail the newspaper, but jeez, some of the other people who offer their opinions in it are so stupid…

The sky lights up over Flinders Street Station. They always look better in person. (Picture: ABC TV news)

Welcome to the year two thousand. The very fact that you’re reading these words probably means that the dreaded Y2K bug didn’t eventuate. At least, not in a huge way. I’m sure the residents of Hobart and Adelaide aren’t too disappointed that their bus ticket machines stopped working for a while.

(Oh, commiserations if you’re in Ghana though.)

For New Year’s Eve, we had planned to all go into the city with the kids, but changed our minds - just as well given how sardine-like both the trains and the city were. L decided she wanted to stay home with the kids (they were asleep anyway), so it was just me.

When I got to our local station, it was like morning peak hour, but at night - there were tons of people on and around the station, and when a train arrived, it was already packed. I squeezed aboard and spent the 20 minute journey amongst a couple of hundred revellers, who for some reason started singing "Good old Collingwood forever", and other New Year’s Eve favourites.

I came out of Flinders Street Station and it took me about 20 minutes to move a couple of hundred metres along Swanston Street to the intersection of Flinders Street, where I found a vantage point. I had planned to go towards the river, but the way the crowd was surging the other way, didn’t have much choice.

I found a spot with a reasonable view of where I expected the fireworks to be. The crowd watched the countdown clock on the Arts Centre spire, and the bells of St Paul’s Cathedral started up. On the stroke of midnight, the lights didn’t all go out - on the contrary, the sky lit up from about half a dozen different places - there were fireworks everywhere for about 10 minutes. Then they quietened down, and just as people thought they’d finished, there was another enormous burst, as the crowd cheered, clapped and said "Oooh!" and "Ahhhhh" when the really spectacular fireworks went off.

Afterwards, some people continued milling around, others including myself crowded back into the station. The train wasn’t quite as crowded, though the police were doing crowd control Japanese railways style to keep the trains moving without too much delay.

As they’d said would happen, the train stopped for a few minutes at Caulfield at 1am, midnight standard time, a Y2K precaution. Enough time to get some entertainment with a couple of teenage girls arguing with some policemen on the platform. The power didn’t go off, so the train continued on, and I headed home, to watch it all again on the video. Of course, the fireworks looked a bit pathetic on TV after seeing them in person.

L and I stayed up a bit longer, talking and watching other stuff on the 2000 Today broadcast. We were just getting ready for bed at 2:15am, laughing and joking about the Y2K bug and its (non) impact when the lights went out. I think the street lights went out too - it was pitch black. L burst into hysterical laughter. I was thinking that (a) we could be in deep trouble and that (b) I’d have to eat my words. "Oh shit." I said.

Five seconds later, everything came back on. Probably just somebody at the electricity company having their little joke…