First aid/Mobile phones

Just went on a St John first aid course. And just to show you that you’d be in perfectly good hands if you collapsed in the street in front of me, here’s an ever so slightly modified version of their drill.

Just remember the letters: LCPAH. (It makes it easier if you think of a high-end MacIntosh owner being offered an inferior model: "LC? Pah!")

L – stands for Look away. Try and ignore the person who has just collapsed.
C – stands for Check if you’ve got time to administer first aid and then get to your appointment on time.
P – stands for Panic, when you see how bad the person looks.
A – stands for Ambulance. Because they can deal with the problem much better than you can.
H – stands for Hero. Which is what you’ll be if you can ignore this drill and do something useful instead.

I’ve mentioned before that I have a mobile phone. Alas, I have so far come across no accidents, where I would have the chance to ring for help and thus justify to the world my need for having it. Especially as hardly anyone ever calls me. And I’m not a real estate agent or a property tycoon, so I can’t use it to point at buildings I’ve bought.

The phone companies would have us believe that Australia has just about the largest percentage of mobile phones in the world. Yep, coming up to 2 million phones. For about 17 million people. Heck, I know I wanted to buy mine so as not to miss out on being at least semi-fashionable.

Phones have different rings. But not different enough. Whenever one rings, no matter how distinctive it sounds, everyone with a phone feels for theirs to check. One way around this is the vibrating phone. That’s right folks, the vibrating

The phone being constantly at your side has its price. I mean apart from a $30 a month connection fee. True story: I get up from my desk, saunter towards the toilets, trying not to look too urgent. Go in. Walk up to the urinals. Undo zipper. Just about to whop it out and take care of business, when *RING* *RING*. One second later, and either I’d have got wet shoes, or someone would have not got an answer. I hope I’d have plumbed for the latter.

You have to be polite with your phone. For instance, making sure it doesn’t go off in restaurants. I mean more your cultured location, of course, rather than McDonalds – who the hell cares if a phone goes off in McDonalds?! It helps drown out the Musak and squawking teenagers. But the real thing to watch for is breaking the new Communications laws. A new amendment, just passed, states that: "It shall be illegal for anyone to knowingly and willingly make gratuitous use of a mobile communications device before a large number of people, with intent to look cool or impress."

But with mobile phones becoming so popular, nowadays as I walk down the street, I try to spot who could be "carrying". Not everyone wears their Poserphone on their belt. The people with those vibrating phones tend to leave them in their pockets; for that cheap thrill when someone calls. A new angle on telephone sex.

Changing names

Ever decided to change the way people know you? To use an alternative derivation of your name? Don’t. At least, try to avoid it. Unless you act like a fascist about it to the people you already know, it’s just too much hassle. New people who meet you will be okay. But anyone who already knows you will still know you by the old name. When you ring them up, you’ll be torn between opening with "Hi, it’s Daniel" or "Hi, it’s Danny."

Yes, I am a sufferer. I don’t mind that a few people that I’ve known for more than ten years call me Danny. I just decided I didn’t like it anymore. Okay, to be honest, I first used Danny when I started primary school, because it was easier to spell than Daniel. So ten years ago I switched. I reckoned Daniel sounded more grown up. <Insert the shoulder shrug of someone who will not vouch for anything they did during their childhood years here>

Of course, being known by different names makes it easier to remember people who re-introduce themselves to you after a long period of time. But the ultimate solution for names would be, when introduced to someone, to introduce yourself as having exactly the same name. It goes something like this:

PERSON: "Hi, I’m Mike Cardigan."
YOU: "Oh really? What a coincidence, I’m Mike Cardigan too!"
PERSON: "Oh really, that’s amazing…" (etc)


PERSON: "Mike Cardigan! G’day mate, I haven’t seen you in years!"
YOU: "Oh hi, how are you! Mike Cardigan, isn’t it!"
PERSON: "Yes it is! You remembered!"
YOU: "Well, I never forget a face… Especially with the same name as mine…" (etc)

Easter Weekend

All right, Easter weekend! Just about the longest of the long weekends, except for Christmas. Four days of unadulterated bliss. Okay, considering what’s being remembered on Friday, it doesn’t quite make sense to call it "Good", but I can live with that. Jesus gave that we might have a long weekend. Hmmm, doesn’t quite have the same kind of ring to it, does it?

But let’s face it, is there any better thing to do over a long weekend than stuff yourself with chocolate? No, I don’t think so. I can just see the dentists and the confectioners rubbing their hands together with glee, actually. The week before Easter is probably when Darrell Lea justifies their existence. Organised chocolate binges are one of the true signs that we are living in an advanced civilisation. (The other one is making use of class 1 laser devices to listen to music).

Speaking of chocolate companies, can anyone name the creepiest building in Melbourne? Gotta be 636 St Kilda Road, right? The Cadbury/Schweppes building. It’s the eye at the top that does it, looking like it’s spying on the surrounding suburbs. Even worse at night; it glows purpley-blue. Spooky. Was the architect smoking some very well mixed illegal substances when he thought that up? Or was he just extremely paranoid? Or maybe he decided that instead of Cadbury’s image being all sweetness and light and chocolate, it should be dark, foreboding, intrusive and creepy.

"The goodness of a glass and a half of milk in every family sized block. And remember, WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!"


We just saw the remains of ELO in concert. The special effects at concerts are getting more impressive. The laser shows, formerly designed to impress, are now designed to partially blind you, and contain subliminal messages telling you to buy the band’s new album. The lights and lasers can be incredibly bright. You wouldn’t want to be an epileptic.

But then, you wouldn’t want to be one anyway.

Any band that’s been around more than about 10 years are desperate to expose some of their new songs to the crowd. The crowd, of course, just want to hear the oldies. The ones they can sing along to.

I think there’s now an unofficial competition for the biggest band, with the most 747s, bringing in the biggest concert sets with the most tons of equipment. U2 vs Rolling Stones vs Madonna vs Nick’s Cabaret Act. Every time a big act comes to town, you see reports on the news saying that "XXX arrived today, with more than YYY tons of equipment, filling ZZZ semi-trailers. We talked to head engineer Jock McScaffold (because the band themselves were too stoned to go on TV)…" Bloody hell, the Rolling Stones even got a story on Beyond 2000! Perhaps this is twisting that programme’s format of showing new technology just a bit too far.

The curse of the late night joke

It’s late at night. You’re tired and/or tipsy. Your brain is powering down for the evening. And you are the FUNNIEST person in the world. Whether or not you’ll think so the morning after is another matter.

Some musicians are not all that popular with the general public, but known and respected through the music industry. These are described as "musician’s musicians". But suppose a number of musician’s musicians agree that they admire the work of another musician. Doesn’t that make that person a musician’s musician’s musician?

(Further discussion concerning a musician’s musician’s musician’s dog will not be entered into at this stage.)

  • Originally this entry contained some other… erm… rather unsavoury entries. You can still find them in the old archives. Just be prepared for immature and coarse language, if you decide to venture in to find them.