Night Driving Music for pale young boys

Dear Daughter,

Your Mum and I were talking about car trips we had when we were young. There was something magical about these long drives. My parents would put down the back seats and i could lay there under a blanket looking up at the stars and the passing street lights. I would imagine i was flying through space passing through galaxies. It makes me think of this song -



But if i was to name the best night time driving song it would definately be this one -



All this talk about youth and holidays reminds me of The Kinks for some reason. I guess it is their fascination in family life and all things pastoral. The Village Green album was such and extreme antithises to the popular psychedelic and rock albums being made at the time. It completely bombed however now it is lauded as a masterpiece. Another album of theirs that just didnt catch on for similar reasons was Muswell Hillbillies. A weird combination of post-war Londons housing issues due to the bombing played in a decidedly American style. This particular song is not the best representation of this however it does remind me so much of your Great Grandmothers fondness for the English obsession with tea. I was after all discussing my youth somewhere above before i did a Karma Police and lost myself.



To finish off lets list a few more great Night Driving Songs.



Forgive the quality but this HAD to be in here




And finally the best empty highway at night song ever -

Those age lines have arrived.

My Mums cousin, his wife and two kids came for a visit (for the first time ever) this weekend. I was feeding you on the recliner. The second that they entered the house and got a look at you, you threw up all over me. It was the most incredible timing. You always throw up on me the most you bugger.

You finally did a poo after a long wait. This is what our life is at the moment. Getting excited over poo and wee. It is so essential that you cant help but talk and think about it. That and temperature.

You were quite upset last night, working yourself up to a real tis. There was nothing really working and your Mum had gone to get some sleep but that didn’t work out. In the end she went and bought a dummy. It worked for a little bit but you don’t seem that interested with it.

I hit one of those brick walls today. Im getting over all these visitors, its too much. We need to cut it down a bit. Nine days in a row someone showed up. I have told your Mum that one day of the weekend needs to be just us.

We got some beautiful smiles and even more vocalising. A couple of new sounds we had not heard before. Mum says its like you are looking into her soul when you stare up the way you do. You really stare intently. Even amongst cries you smile. The sounds you make are so special. Sounds of hapiness and security. You feel safe with us.

I decided that I am more mind tired than phsyically tired. I don’t think I look tired most of the time. I think it might be about finding a new level. Im not sure.

Star Trek in the morning, husbands warning

Its 5am and Mum has disappeared again. I can uncurl myself from my fetal position at the corner of the bed and spread out like a snow angel and make contented little gurgling noises. Mum is in the living room watching Deep Space 9. She has been getting up around 4 or 5am more often now. She wakes up sore and very alert to all kinds of distracting noises, like me and my bizarre sleeping noises that range from sudden snorts at the back of my throat to smacking my lips and going Ahhhhh. A few minutes of that and she gives up and gets up to eat some nectarines and drink another litre of milk. Her taste buds must be playing up because she keeps handing me these bits of fruit to eat claiming them to be the most perfectly awesome taste sensation ever. I sink my teeth into these barely ripe delicacies and am hard pressed to find any taste in them at all. Its like eating wet foam.

You are turning mums placenta into an indoor rock climbing arena. You are moving all over the place although your preference is the left hand side. You then shimmie over so your back is on Mums right hand side which makes her tummy all misshapen. If Mum is not in the correct side in bed you give a few kicks to communicate your displeasure. She cannot wait to sleep on her back again, her favoured position. She has even found that she is getting pains under her ribs, as you push up with your foot or bum into her already squashed innards. She has to stand up and move around a bit to push you back down again. I got some great footage of you moving around a few nights back. Sadie was amazed by the ruckus you cause in there.

Nan Baker is taking next year off golf to help out with whatever is required. You Uncle Baker is actually telling his Mum that she better not spend more time with you than with his boy. The hilarious thing is that not once have they let him stay at his grandparents in 11 years. They don’t invite her down or contact her unless they want something, and now he is jealous because we will be letting her look after you. There are some real numbers in this world and our family has its fair share.

I have another great saying for you - 'as attentive as a three-toed sloth on cooking sherry'.

Listening to John Safran Podcast on Triple J.
Learning all about promiting websites by using key words for search engines to pick up.

Loving my hair at the moment, im beginning to look like a 70's hearthrob like Shaun Cassidy.


I get the impression reading other Parenting Blogs that these posts will not be anywhere near as large or often as they are now. Sleep takes precedence.

23rd October 2007

I have come across an old Blog post of mine that I have not read since we found out you were coming. Now you know it took us a while of trying and it was not an easy time. But I always had this in my mind, have a read and see what you think of it -:

There has been some history of contact with my mother since she passed away. Not for a while and it has mostly been getting together in dreams and having long conversations. One time she was pregnant, the next time there was a woman in the same room as her and she got up and walked past without looking once at me. I got this understanding then that this was her but a different person, not one im likely to meet.
My feeling is that we can be inexorably led to things when we invest our thought processes on that subject. I came across this site http://www.worlditc.org/ about contacting people after they die via radio, TV etc. Fascinating experiments and one that cannot be dismissed so easily. Anyway, while working i had my headphones on as usual but nothing actually playing. Suddenly i became aware of the background noise because of a few spikes in the sound. Now i am not trying to tell you that i was being contacted or anything like that. It just brought me back to thinking about the subject. I got up and went to heat up my lunch. Whilst standing there I started to think about Mum and was experiencing some of the physical sensations i got after she died in hospital. Im a take things as they come kind of guy, i also keep a balanced head whilst not taking anything as a given. I said hello to her and i then asked her to help me with a particular issue i wont bring up here. I suddenly got this nearly overwhelming sense of hapiness and started to smile and laugh. Nothing in my rational brain could determine why i was laughing, i had no particular thought to trigger it. I shook my head and told her "Ok, ill take that" and got my food and started writing this. I cant shake the feeling that this was all kind of too easy and too coincidental. The most interesting part of all this is the physical aspect. I have not had this feeling in my heart and gut area since the night she died. I wont try to intellectualise this incident. As i told Mum, ill just take it as it is and move on. I had a sense that the answer to my question was yes, so i guess its just a matter or waiting and seeing.

Well here we are now and im sure you have worked out what the question was. So thanks Mum, you rock.

Thinking about big moments also made me think about how people focus on the grand statements instead of the everyday. My Dad is like that, he thinks that as long as he makes the required gestures such as calling on birthdays and coming over enough so he can say he does visit that this is enough. This is not enough, not by a long shot. The same applies to my aunties with Sadie. They occasionally invite her over or take her out to dinner and this is supposed to be enough? Time is the true measure of love and support. If you are not available for a person, if you are not seeing them as often as is possible and taking an active interest in their life, then the birthday card means nothing, the occasional visit will be pleasant but devoid of anything meaningful and deep between you. I am a little hard line about this and I don’t exclude myself. I have been a little brutal at times in culling friendships that don’t measure up to these standards, either because I don’t put in the effort or the other person doesn’t. You have to be a little careful with this because sometimes your lives just aren’t in sync at particular phases of your life. Jan is a perfect case. Its been 10 years or more since I have properly hung out with her but now that we are both in the family way, we have things in common. Before that I found that even when we socialised she was always distracted and looking for someone more interesting to talk to. This annoyed me because I consider myself to be an interesting conversationalist but I do require people to put in a little effort themselves and to keep their wits about them. I also don’t like small talk which is probably why I make certain people uncomfortable. So I have often been accused of being distracted. I think Jan was probably doing the same, it makes me think that I need to give people a little more time, some more small talk until they are comfortable. Then again some people never move past small talk. Boring.

Blood sugar no sex magic

Your Mum called me up at work and said that she had her water colour pencils and had a small book as a mini desk on her stomach when she got a kick. She then removed the book and used hands to push in same spot and got another kick. I guess you didn’t appreciated having your head used as a table. Your great grandmother said she had the same thing when she had a bowl of peas to split. Her youngest kept kicking the bowl over.

Tomorrow you will be 31 weeks along. Nothing much going on really. Mum is doing really well, still going for walks with Jan who cant believe how fit she is at this stage. She gets up lots during the night which as you might have worked out is not in her nature. This blood sugar issue is not too bad, she is being careful about the foods she eats and it’s not really a big deal. She has started a painting for your room. She asked what I thought she should paint and I went to my little stash of kids books and found the little fairy book which has some beautiful drawings in it. We flipped through and found one we think will look like you. She is also painting your giraffe (well Carns thinks its hers).

I have been throwing mulch all over the garden and done some planting. I said to Mum after work yesterday that on the trip home in the train I was thinking to myself "gee there’s nothing to do tonight, its going to be really boring". Then I thought wow this is going to be a welcome feeling in a few months. But frankly I have had years of bored nights and I really wont miss it. Having kids later in life means that you have had the time to be selfish and independent. For some the change will freak them out but I look forward to this next phase with gusto.

I hope that you will know your calling. I seem to have fit into the category of people who like lots of things but not one thing enough to imagine making a career out of it. When I ask myself today what would I like to be doing in place of this strange tedious job, well I cant honestly say for sure. After doing this Podcast for a few years now I guess that would be a lot of fun. I can’t see how you can make a career out of it though. I would love to do Podcast’s on music, getting people turned on to new music is a great reward for me. Other than that I imagine myself just having the time to do what I want. Paint a bit, write a bit, have a band, find good music and read some great books. I think your Mum would be even simpler than that, in a good way. Just time together with the family in a house she loves, exploring her painting skills. I love that we both have this attitude toward life.

Silly Mummy does work herself into a tizz as im sure you have had plenty of opportunities to see. She has a bad habit of building situations up in her head and making them far more than they are. For example we talked this morning about the quote we got for downstairs. Grandpa Keith knows someone who may be able supply the window frame cheaper so we need to see what the builder thinks about that option. So its just one phone call. But in Mums mind it has become a whole day event in which she will be co-ordinating an Olympic size event on her own. Have I mentioned as yet that for most women when they are pregnant, their emotions go on a rollercoaster ride? For you Mum, that was her before she was pregnant! She has been so docile and had not raised her voice at all. Its been very funny. I told her that im going to have to keep her pregnant now. She has been known to lose it on occasion and the last few years I have been no help I don’t think. My approach had been to raise my voice right back at her, which I had not really done before that. It seemed to happen more to me when I got into this job where I felt more confident and assertive. So there has been incidences where I push her to that explosion and explode myself. Well we have discussed this and we both agree that this type of behaviour is a luxury that we cannot afford when you come along. It is what I think of as an indulgence for our egos. I refuse to have you grow up in an atmosphere in which you are scared. I really hope that this has been the case. We always sort our issues out which is why we have lasted this long and still love each others company.

I have told people about this diary for you and have been met with blank stares. I find myself having to keep explaining why I am doing it. I find this unsettling that people would think writing about my life is so strange. I usually end up by saying that this is exactly the sort of thing I wish my mother had done for me, to have so much to read and re-read for the rest of my life. It would be the greatest treasure I could ever own.

Gestational diabetes, a real prick

Your Mum has gestational diabetes, well just. She will have to prick her fingers during the day to check her blood sugar levels. I think she was a bit heavy on the sugar at the time she got this test done so if they did it again I wonder if she would be over the limit. So now she has to be really careful of her diet and keep checking the blood throughout the day, not fun.

This nine months (ten really) is going quite slow and your Mum is also quite ready for you to enter soon hopefully via centre stage. For some people it may go really fast im not sure. Its part anticipation I guess. In practical terms it is very good that it takes this long. I have spent weekends doing lots of jobs that I wont want to do later. The side path has been completed to allow us to keep you in the pram if you are asleep. I have also set up the shed space because we are converting downstairs as a room. Then there’s always the mulch to place everywhere in preparation of summer and no rain. It’s a big block but all this work I am doing is to make it easier for me but still have the garden I want. I think you will really love our garden, it will be a great place for you to play in. I think Anne Shirley would love it as well. "So much scope for the imagination don’t you think?" I was doing an Anne myself this morning and imagining myself at work after you are born.

I picture myself crying all the time at work because I just want to be with you. I am not looking forward to that. I will just want to hold you all the time. At least you will be tall when you get older because your mother and I will both be pulling you from both ends screaming "I want a cuddle" and "no I want a cuddle shes mine" like a tug of war.

At the moment every time I think of you there is that awful voice in my head that starts saying what if this and what if that. Every parent wants everything to go all right and I am no different. The unknown is the greatest fear to overcome. In my head, I guess I then try to suppress some of the predicted experiences I will have with you, like if I realise them too much they may not come true. But I don’t think this is good. It is like I am protecting myself from getting hurt by removing not feeling too much. That’s a good one for a shrink. It would definitely hark back to my past, not wanting to tell anyone my hopes for fear of them laughing at them. I remember Mum and my aunties etc doing a lot of that, laughing at things I said. In my head I knew I was mature enough to understand what I was saying so it was extremely demeaning to put me down like they did. In fact I don’t think they have that maturity even now. For them I think it was not about me, just to lash back on men in general, preferably ones that don’t have the power. I still cannot work out how the three sisters ended up with such relationship issues. I can tell you that your great grandfather was a bit of a drunk in the early years. I remember him being really rough with me when he was tickling or wrestling me. It was well meaning but I don’t think he realised he actually hurt. Your great grandmother was like most other women of that time, the men were kings and she had limited scope for asserting herself. Women of these times would simply suffer through it and hope the men snapped out of it. Well he did eventually, went off the booze for good. Its important for you to realise that those sorts of relationships can actually work well as long as both people are able to take ownership of their failings. I think my grandparents have had a wonderful marriage that I can tell, they certainly love each other to bits and they have been the most influential people in my life as far as understanding relationships. The contradiction in how these old marriages worked was that often the women actually ruled the roost, and your great grandmother is no exception. This side of the family is a matriarchy so you are on the winning side. Us men have always been lower down in the rung. As for me, I have been a bit of a renegade because from a young age I was able to recognise where real power lay and I have always been able to manipulate women to great effect. I am like a small independent country sitting smack in the middle of a much larger one. Read some Asterix and you will get my gist. My relationship with the family is a little strange and quite distant. I tend to be a little guarded around them all, even my Grandma at times. Your Mum says that no matter how much Nan loves us her girls always take precedence. Like I said, I know where I am on the rung and that’s quite fine by me (remember this is just my take on things, not gospel). There are many reasons why this has happened. I mention again the way they used to laugh at me early on. Then another significant thing has been their relationship with my Mum, who was bigger than life and very much the centre of the family. She held the Christmas dinners, she kept the family together and I think her sisters have always had difficulty with that. Your grandmother essentially brought the youngest one up because your great grandparents ran milk bars and health shops, so she being the oldest became their mother. What has disturbed me has been since Mum passed away. They have had very little input into Sadies life and I know that this would have upset Mum very much. I think everyone used the excuse that they don’t like her Dad, but frankly if I can suppress my own distaste for him then what excuse have they got? I lived with the fellow.

As for me, I was never really family oriented. I much preferred my own company. So to this day I really never call the aunties, your Mum does that. If you want to know what your grandma was like just look at the way your Mum tries to keep the family together and look at Sadie and of course me. She really was a remarkable woman. We are connected still in a very deep way. I have not felt separated from her presence in all this time. I often receive little messages from her, most of them make me laugh. But she is not physically here now so she cannot force me to stay close to family. Your mum and I talk about this a bit. For me, and this is quite harsh, I would be quite happy to move away and not see any of them again, apart from my grandma and Sadie. I do dream of moving to Christchurch or somewhere and not having to feel forced to maintain a relationship. I think my Mum would understand that of me. If she were still here I can tell you that she would be playing a HUGE role in your life. Part of the reason why we didn’t have kids earlier is because it breaks my heart to think of what you are missing. She would definitely have divorced Sadies Dad and we were talking about getting a house together. I don’t doubt you’re Mum and I would have lived with her for a few years so we could save up. Oh well, perhaps in an alternative reality that’s happened. I know that your Grandma Baker will be great with you and as for the rest, well, maybe your experience will be like mine with my Grandparents. A good one. I hope so.

Holden Premier HQ - my first car

This entry deserves a title -

My First Car

Your Mum and I used to go to clubs quite frequently. Most weekends actually. Once we found a great night we would stick with it. One of the best was the Beehive which was just at a pub in Spencer street. It was a goth hangout and they played fantastic music. The people were friendly and it was just a great atmosphere. No aggression. And yes there were a few occasions that I did go Goth to the fullest extent. Black lipstick, white face, mascara and teased hair. In fact I looked the spitting image of The Cure's Robert Smith. There is something liberating about becoming something different, making such a visual statement that you belong to a sub-group. It is very tribal. I didn’t continue with it because I don’t need external signposts to tell others what I am about. I would rather people have to work at it. So when people ask me what animal I would be. I guess I would have to think of an animal that does not use its body to attract attention or to deter attention. So im no peacock or monkey or emu, flashing my plume or baring my teeth. I reckon im more like a koala. Quiet and slow to anger and definitely not attracting attention. I think I fade into the crowd quite well. I would have made a good spy. So gothism or any other subbacultcha (see Pixies) has never been my cup of tea. But once in a while it is good to play a role. There was one particular time that myself and Chas went the whole hog thanks to the ladies help and we headed off in my Holden HQ to the Beehive.

My car was the best. It was a hand-me-down from my father and had been around for a while. It even went to Tasmania with them when they moved down there. When Dad left his then wife he moved back to live with his Dad in Ashwood. The car is a V8. It’s the only car I really loved, maybe because he eventually gave it to me. But not before committing what some people would call a series of atrocities to its exterior. Bored with life and the conversations with his father about food, my Dad decided it was time to give the old girl a bit of a spruce up. There was the obligatory rust problems (you could actually see the road between the passengers feet) and the old brown paintwork was old and out of fashion. Now my father has never let quality stand in his way of getting the job done. He has never concerned himself with the sorts of standards and rules that apply to others (he wont drink water when working hard because he thinks it makes you more thirsty). When he helped me create a path in our backyard he poo-pood the idea that you should use sand and crushed rock to get a balance and prevent weeds. Inevitably this path is the worst offender for weeds now (I did the rest on my own, WITH sand and rock) and his response is to pour petrol over the path. So when it came to painting a car it never occurred to him to buy the right paint or get a spray gun for a nice even finish. Instead he went into the garage and looked to see what paint was there, he found some lovely house paint left over of my granddads but not quite enough for the job. So he went off to the shops and purchased a little more house paint, matt finish, and not the same colour! My guess is it was on sale. The paint was actually not rust proof either and after mixing it with the other paint it came out a strange reddish brown colour (I have photos). Well I guess its cheaper than getting therapy and less damaging than slashing his wrists, but as far as contributing to art and beauty, im afraid he failed miserably. From a distance the matt finish was rather fetching and looked ok, but from close up all you could see were various brush strokes in different directions. It was frankly bizarre and a little insane. But as an 18 year old who just got his license, well beggers cant be choosers and frankly it appealed to my sense of individuality and flair for the ridiculous. It became a well known car for a while there as I reached driving age before anyone else in my year and added to that and the bizarre colour was the sound. The car had apparently been tinkered with over the years and it was the coolest sounding car in the world. Gruff, growling and insanely loud, it made heads turn everywhere it went. I loved this car.

I also brought in my own element of the ridiculous by using my home stereo with batteries instead of installing a car stereo (it had an old AM radio which while retro cool, did not impress chicks). The stereo was a boom box as they called it, about the size of a big shoe box. It took about 12 large batteries and had tape deck and radio (aerial pulled up inside the car). You may think this is funny but I have more to come. Frankly the speakers that were attached to the stereo just didn’t do it for me (the car was too loud). I found that even with all the windows down it was not having the impact on passers by that I was seeking. So instead I grabbed the speakers from my bigger house stereo, about as high as a desk and attached those instead. I had to put belts on them so they didn’t move so it meant that passengers needed to sit up front with me (bucket seats in the front meant I could sit 4 if needed). But oh the sound. Nothing pleased me more than taking off from school and passing by all the other students, car growling like a caged lion and now with speakers that were able to be heard over the car sounds. The Pixies would be on more often than not as they were nice and loud. Add to this my suede jacket and purple John Lennon glasses and I was a wonderful muddle of contradiction, a hippy with a V8. So that’s your father…..and your grandfather!

Now somewhere further up I was talking about how Chas and I got all gothed up to go to the Beehive. We took my car and there were four in the back and three in the front. On the way there was a booze bus so we were pulled over for a breath test. We pulled up to the cop and the look on his face when he saw me and the others with all the makeup and black clothing was priceless. He noticed there were four people sitting in the back, only two with seat belts on. I told him that’s all there were and grinned at him nervously. He looked back at me, back at my friends, shook his head and said "I cant handle this, just go". So off we went, passing by other police who were doubled over laughing. It was quite an experience.

BTW - phone numbers used to be without the 9 at the start. Ex 873 0168