Life: One of my first loves:

1969.. one of my favourite years and I had a couple of objects of desire that focused all of my attention. And they were.. not in any specific order.

1. Julie Vanek.

2. My astronomical telescope.

3. The Holden Monaro 327 GTS

4. The Suzuki TS 125 Stinger motorcycle.

So as I said.. the above list is not in any order of preference.. but there you have it.

Julie was at my school the day I started and I thought she was good stuff! I guess in today's parlance I would have said she was hot! But sadly, like the Monaro 327.. well she really was beyond me.. but I kept on keeping on!

And then one day, not long after Neil walked on the moon a group of us were standing outside the shop where we would go each day to buy lunch (now Katrina Christ's Studio) and this red motorcycle went past. And it went past ever so fast! With a trail of blue smoke from its exhausts and the exquisite sound of two cylinders firing every second stroke!

I turned to Alan White and said something like.. "What the fuck was that?"

Julie said to me.. "What did you just say?"

Mmm.. "What the heck was that?"

Ignatius chimed in with.. "It had a Suzuki badge on it I think!"

That very same afternoon after school found this young man in Mayfairs in Adelaide Street, in the heart of the city.

You see, Mayfairs were the Suzuki dealer back then.

And there on the showroom floor I found it!

Wow!!!

The Suzuki TS 125 Stinger.

A twin cylinder two stroke motorbike that looked to this 16 year old like it came out of a Bond Movie.

God.. how could man design and build a machine so beautiful? The salesman told me it would do 75 MPH and with an optional hot up kit 100 MPH was possible.

I sat on it, I twisted the throttle, imagined me and Julie heading to the Gold Coast on it on a sunny Sunday morning.. and I wondered how I could get one into my life.

The fact that I couldn't even get a licence for another year was irrelevant.

Give me this bloody beaut bike mate! I just have to have it!

That night I showed the Suzuki brochure to my parents.. a very frosty negative reception indeed.

"Why do you want a motorcycle?" my mother asked.

"Freedom!" I yelled back!

"But you are free now," said my Dad.

"Gees.. you two just don't get it.. it's the ability to go where I want, when I want to!" I said as I went back to my room to stick the brochure onto the wall.

"You will be mine" I said the next day as I dressed for school whilst admiring my new toy!

Here is what this two wheeled freedom machine looked like back then.... (Except mine was going to be candy apple red!)

My ideal freedom machine in 1969.

And so it came to pass.. that I never ever owned one.

Like Julie Vanek, and the Monaro GTS, the Suzuki TS 125 was not to be mine.

No.. somehow by the time I was 17 I owned a clapped out 1963 Black Mini 850.

My less than ideal escape machine. Blew as much smoke though!

Oh dear!

And some days even now when my mind wanders.. I wonder if there is still one of these classic motorcycles out there with my name on it.

After all.. it could / should have been my first real love!

(Sorry Julie)

Photography: By the time we got to Woodstock...

I heard about it on TV in 1969. Nearly 45 years ago... and today I found this image. Sweet memories of youth.

"Woodstock"

Well I came across a child of God, he was walking along the road

And I asked him tell where are you going, this he told me:

Well, I'm going down to Yasgur's farm, going to join in a rock and roll band.

Got to get back to the land, set my soul free.

We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,

And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

Well, then can I walk beside you? I have come to lose the smog.

And I feel like I'm a cog in something turning.

And maybe it's the time of year, yes, and maybe it's the time of man.

And I don't know who I am but life is for learning.

We are stardust, we are golden, we are billion year old carbon,

And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

By the time we got to Woodstock, we were half a million strong,

And everywhere there was song and celebration.

And I dreamed I saw the bombers jet planes riding shotgun in the sky,

Turning into butterflies above our nation.

We are stardust, we are golden, we caught in the devil's bargain,

And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.

Life: So just what has been the greatest invention ever?

My old dad loved gadgets. Now he didn't go and seek them like his errant son. But if somebody came to his office and stuck one under his nose? Well out came the wallet. And out of the wallet came a 10 pound note!

As a young 12 year old I used to marvel at the shit.. er I mean stuff he brought home.

Like the bottle of "Russian Hair Restorer". Now this was in the days when the west and the east were well and truly divided. So nobody had any idea just what was going on over there in Moscow.

Except for the salesman with the bottles of the wondrous elixir. You see it wouldn't grow hair, but it would turn your hair back to the colour it was when you were twenty one. Now at 67 my dad had greying hair and thought that black hair would be nice.. like he had in the army when he was in Poona.

So after dinner he carefully combed it through his hair and wrapped his hair in a towel.. which according to the instructions was only to be removed after a good night's sleep.

The next morning.. we sat him at the breakfast table with shaving mirror in hand and unwrapped his noggin.

To reveal..... the best head of coloured hair you had ever seen.

Except it was ginger in colour!

But he didn't learn. He was a naturally astute man who didn't suffer fools gladly. A less charitable person might say he was intolerant. I guess he hadn't read that line from Desiderata... the one about the dull and the ignorant, for they too have their story.. or something like that.

But gadgets.. well next was the pyramid made of blue plastic. About 24 inches each side at the base. Keep your razor under it and the universe or whatever would keep it sharp. Now for a man who studied chemistry at University.. well he was sceptical but gave it a try.

The cigarette papers all over his face two weeks later proved testament to the efficacy of the blue pyramid. Well for keeping razors sharp anyway. Mum hung it upside down on chains and planted ferns it it! Not very Egyptian!

Now not long after this came the French made razor blade sharpener. An amazing thing that had a removable cartridge that you fitted your razor blade in and then it sort of moved back and forwards over this three sided leather strop. Apparently it did sharpen razor blades very well indeed. Good one dad. He once commented on how it looked like a miniature Guillotine.

How very French!

As he grew into old age.. he often said that so and so was the best invention since sliced bread. Funny thing was he hated sliced bread. He loved to cut his own and put giant slabs of butter on it!

One day when I was an apprentice auto electrician he rang me from work (he was still woking in his 70s... a man ahead of Joe Hockey) and told me a guy was trying to sell him a trickle battery charger. The man told him he would never have a flat battery if he faithfully hooked it up each night.  I pointed out to him that since his HR Holden, all of his cars had been fitted with alternators including his then XY Ford and he had never had a flat battery since. "My son the auto electrician and his 3 auto electrician brothers say I don't need one. Good day to you Sir" I heard over the phone. Good one dad.

When I was about 11 he came home late one Saturday with a rifle. Mother was stunned. It seems it was to shoot sharks with. Part two of the story was it came with the small wooden launch he bought that was moored at Victoria Point. The "Tammy Two" came into our lives. Powered by a mighty marinised Fiat petrol engine.. this floating collection of wood worms holding hands was dad's pride and joy. How did he buy it? Well a guy came into see him trying to flog a boat compass.. he was down on his luck you see. So dad bought the compass.. and the boat it was fitted to.

Around 3 weeks later the MV Tammy Two had a new owner. Thank God! I was terrorised by the smell of fuel every time we opened the cabin.

Now what about Ron's son the village photographer?

Well I used to think that a dishwasher would be great idea. I hated drying dishes in mother's kitchen. Really hated it. Then I thought that air conditioning would be a good thing. Well done Dr Carrier. And of course trail bikes. Thank you Mr Yamaha for the DT1. The bike that invented a  whole new form of recreation for this young man. As I grew up I gave thanks for oral contraceptives .. should be used at every conceivable moment.

The mighty DT1. Because somebody wanted to take a short cut!

And then you have to add Jumbo jets to the list.. just love the 747 although I will always love the 707. Classic 35 degree wing sweep. And what about the Beatles? Magic musical invention that was! Calculators, computers (Love my MAC. Try a Mac and you'll never go back) digital cameras and the list goes on.

Oh yes.. sliced bread. The prodigal son loves his sliced bread. The internet, the quartz watch, (although I love mechanical watches) electric carving knives, power steering, mobile phones, smart mobile phones and iPads.. the list is endless. My home is full of gadgets as is my shed. You name it and I probably have one.. or two... or more. As a late friend of mine, Merv Davidson used to say, "I bought a new coffee machine today.. well we only had 3!"

So after 60 orbits of the sun and over halfway through number 61, what is my favourite gadget of all time?

Well feast your eyes on this.. no more arguments in our bathroom!

I have learnt from past mistakes!

My squeezing the toothpaste tube in the middle was one of the reasons my first wife left 30 years ago!

She made a new plan Stan, slipped out the back Jack.. see she had the 50 ways to leave but also 125 reasons to leave!

And one of the 125 was that I squeezed the toothpaste tube in the middle!

True story!

So readers.. I give you the greatest invention of all time..... the toothpaste tube squeezer!

A real marriage saving invention!

Life: The ties that bind us. (*What the f#@k does that mean?)

Consider a piece of fine cotton thread....  like the type on the reel below...

Could you snap this thread?

So if I was to bind your hands with this thread.... could you break free?

Of course you could dear reader.

But what if I tied your hands together by wrapping them over and over in this same cotton thread. All 100 metres of it until you were bound by a rope of cotton?

Could you snap the cotton and break free?

No.. I didn't think so.

And this is how I view the ties that bind us to our daily lives.. in the sense of where we live, what we do and how we plan for the future.

For example.. Many years ago I was offered a career change to an overseas destination. Effectively  it was mine if I wanted it. All I had to do was say yes. So I paused to consider it all...

If I were to pack up and leave Australia, what would change in my life?

Well .. I have an ageing dog who would not travel well and probably not survive quarantine in a foreign country. So it would mean saying good bye (probably forever) to my pooch that had been part of the family for so long. But yes.. I can manage this. These opportunities don't come along every day. One small strand of cotton thread.. but I could break that one!

And I have an ageing mother.. but hey Brisbane is only 24 hours away by jet so I guess I could manage it. But not being able to see her regularly as she passes through her twilight years would be a negative. But hey.. my career is important to me. Another strand of cotton broken.

My friends... I love my friends. They are so important to me. Over the years they have shared many sunny days with me and seen me through some rainy ones too. Still, they would always be here back in Australia and we would always have that connection.. I think.
Yep.. another strand of cotton broken.

And what about my current career. This new offer is from a corporate head hunter and I am happy where I am; I consider my job a comfortable place to be. It has the familiar fit and feel of an old pair of shoes. But change is something that I should embrace; sometimes it is forced upon us and at other times.. well we should embrace it! We should go for it! Yep.. another cotton strand broken.

And so I work my way through the balance sheet of positives and negatives that will manifest themselves for me (and my family) if I accept one of these 3 positions that are being offered to me.

And the thing is this...

One at a time, I can easily break each strand of cotton and look to this high end change that will come into my life. But when I look at ALL of the changes.. well it then becomes a piece of rope made of lots of strands of individually easily broken cotton.. but for me at least totally unbreakable when they are all woven together.

This is my life!

The ties that bind us... individually they are not a lot.. but together .. very powerful.

The die is cast.. my life is unfolding.. as it should I guess!

Not all change is progress!

* Just for the Captain!

Life: taking time to be still. We want you to sleep well tonight, Let the world turn without you tonight

Those lyrics from one of the songs from Jesus Christ Super Star have been in my head for more than 40 years now. And whenever I get stressed with life's aggravations; I recall them!

In this morning's Australian Magazine there is a small piece by Phillip Adams about time! He points out that his Grandfather's farmhouse had one clock. His grandfather didn't own a watch; and he toiled with a horse drawn plough to work the land each day.

You see he didn't need a watch.

He had the seasons!

But today.. well we all have quartz watches, those inventions of the mid 70s that are accurate to a fraction of a second. We have them on our arms, we have clocks in our cars, on my motorbike, on our computer screens.. and still.. we're all time poor.

At university in 1985 doing a business and marketing course, one of our lecturers mentioned how different the USA was. He had spent 12 months working at a SOCAL university and one day he asked one of his fellow lecturers to have a coffee with him. To his surprise.. this fellow pulled out a pocket diary and said.. yes.. March 9 at 10:00 AM I have a half hour free. Meet you at the cafeteria.

The Australian was shocked.. it was a date 3 weeks into the future.. and as he told our class of business managers.. we all laughed!

But now.. 30 years later.. this is our reality here in Australia.

So why do we try to cram too much into our lives? Is it a follow on from our timetable at high school. Be in this room with these books at 10:00 AM .. or else.

Stuff that!

Is relaxation a lost art form. Do our recreational activities all involve doing as much as possible in as many different places as possible? What about having a holiday at the beach.. and doing ... nothing!

Sit on the beach (with the prescribed sunscreen of course) and watch the clouds go past.

"Look.. that one looks like Ringo Star!"

Or if you prefer the bush like me.. find a shady tree by a creek and sit down with a good book. The book will get you started and then your mind will wander to all sorts of things as you gaze above its pages and watch the world around you.

Taking time to be still I call it. We all need it.. but why don't we all try for it more often?

It certainly lowers your stress levels!

Do you really need a watch to tell you it is morning tea time?

Leave your watch at home on holidays. (Unless you need to catch a plane at a certain time.. then leave it in your luggage until departure day)

I remember at the tender age of 16 I went to see Easy Rider with my good mate Ken Brand. The thing that blew me away from that movie was Peter Fonda taking off his expensive wrist watch at the start of the trip into the desert.. and throwing it away. Wow! I couldn't believe that! Not having your time structured. Now that is how to live your life.

When I came home and told my parents about that.. and how it impressed me so much.. well my mother thought it was something only a person on drugs would do. My father asked if it was an expensive watch!

From that day 45 years ago into the future of my life, my eternal search for more personal freedom has been a big driving force in my life. Being able to march to the beat of my own drum I guess is what it is all about. Not having to turn up at a factory and punch your card in every day! Having spent many years as a sales rep on the road for MAX Instruments was magic. Set your own timetable and agenda for who you want to see. Excellent!

And the freedom offered by motorcycle travel is another big part of my life. Go where and when you want to. Being self employed does allow you a lot of these freedoms.. a lot more than those who must turn up at work every day to clock up their annual holidays. Of course; they probably earn a lot more money than me too!  But there are no pockets in funeral shrouds they tell me!

But as for these masterful machines of time themselves...

Well watches fascinate me.. my mates tell me I am into watch porn. In fact I can see 7 of them on my desk now.. and that is a lot when I consider that my good mate Gordon O'Donohue the horologist has a box full of my "other" watches giving them a spring (actually Autumn) service at the moment.

So as you can see dear reader.. I am torn by the love of watches themselves while hating what they do! And what they do is mark the time of our passing parade, the very seconds of our life as we waste them on sometimes such stupid things as stress.

Worrying about things that may never happen, worrying about something that happened years ago and might happen again. (And probably won't)

So despite owning all of these fabulous time keeping machines.. I like to think my time is not structured. To wake up in the morning with no plans and see what events and experiences materialise as earth rotates on its axis one more time!

Now despite my best efforts over the past 45 years since seeing Easy Rider, I still have had many days when my time was structured; but also then a hell of a lot more when it wasn't.

Like today; to wake up with only one thing on the agenda.. and to spend the rest of the day simply being still.

Try it.. turn off the radio, the TV and all other sources of distraction. Forget about the lawn that needs mowing, the car that needs washing etc.

Just sit (or lie in my case) on the couch and do nothing for a few hours.

Take the time to simply "be still".. let the world turn without you tonight!

You'll be much better for it!

It's a little bit Zen you see!

Life: Religion; my father was a Jedi Knight. I think I am a Jedi too!

From the age of 7 I used to wonder what happened at "Church"! My Aunty Dora would go to church at the then Wooloowin Methodist Church in Bonney Avenue every Sunday morning. If I was riding my scooter around Clayfield at the time I would see her with her hat, white gloves and bible trotting up Bayview Terrace from number 53 with a happy smile on her face at the thought of planning her entry to heaven.

So one day I asked my Aunt what happened at Church. Her reply was to ... "Stay over on Saturday night and come with me on Sunday morning."

I did.. I was so excited on the Saturday night that I could hardly sleep.

But Sunday... God.. this is so boring. People singing hymns to funeral dirge melodies that basically said how unworthy we all are to even grovel at God's feet.

Yuk.

Won't do that again. Youngsters learn fast!

By the age of 10 my mother thought it would be good for me to go to Sunday School as part of a "full and rounded education." I hated that too as it was the same message but concealed in a language that children might understand.

At school meantime I endured under sufferance religious education. Our local Minister Mr Hughes told us that God was merciful. "If he wanted to, he could snap his fingers and make all of the earth's oxygen disappear and kill us all!"

Stupid me at 12 said.. "You don't really believe that do you? Sounds like nonsense to me!"

Walking back from the headmaster's office with my hands still stinging from 2 "cuts" I decided that Christianity was not for me. It was a weird bullshit thing for people who are easily fooled!

Not me.

So life goes on.. I decide I am an atheist.

Around the age of 16 I had a talk with my old dad (well he was 71) about his views on religion and God. His opening statement was.. "There were no atheists on the Western Front!" However he had changed and while he believed in a higher power.. he did have serious questions about Jesus. Like Islam, Christianity has a prophet and he is the only way to God. Why can't we have our own relationship with our God (Whoever we perceive him or she to be!) and cut out the middle man?

And I guess that is what my dad did.

My father didn't dress like Ewan. But he was a Jedi. "May the 4th" birthday!

As for me.. well like a Jedi Knight, I do think there is a "force" out there or a higher power if you like. I don't think it is a particularly benevolent force though and perhaps we need to know how to interact and manage the way the force works in our lives. Debra and I have found that when we contact the "force" we can make things happen. Lots of times.

No in fact every time!

Have we had a failure?

Two come to mind.. one is our attempt to buy a particular new house.. so we have come to the conclusion that perhaps the "force" doesn't want us to have this house for whatever reason.

So.. next time the census comes around, again I will nominate Jedi as my religion and again they will ignore it at the census office. (I guess it is staffed by stiff upper lipped public servants imported from mother England to work in the Colonies for a while. "No Jedi Knights here please, we're British!"

It seems to me if people are continuing to say they are Jedis.. then make it an option please. I mean you let the Scientologists in!

Meanwhile.. as you scurry about in your busy life upon this mortal coil... May the Force be with you!

Politics: The phone call from Don 34 years ago that failed to launch my new career!

So.. as a young man growing up I was exposed to all sorts of influences in my world of politics. My father, a staunch conservative suggested I make my own mind up. Rather amazing when I look back on it now in hindsight!

The entire Whitlam campaign in 1972 totally mesmerised me.  Hell, I was only 19 and compared to what the conservatives were trotting out to sell us by way of our votes.. well he was miles in front. Back in 1972 I was too young to vote as the voting age was still 21. When I told my father how impressed I was with Gough and Labor.. well he glared at me and warned me of the "dangers" of having Gough as our leader. But the choice was crystal clear to me.. if only I could vote!

But sadly by 1975; I could see he was right! Watching our business suffer under runaway inflation and a whole lot of other issue.. it was time for a change.. again! But the alternative.. Malcolm Fraser just did nothing for me. At the time I thought he was a ruthless man, who would do anything to become Prime Minister of Australia. I remember having dinner at the Coorparoo home of my good friend Dr Ken Brand in early November 1975. Over dinner we discussed the blocking of supply; we both thought and agreed with each other that it wouldn't happen.

Well.. it did.

And to this day I still maintain and say it was hardly the Liberal party's finest hour!

Poor show all around in my opinion!

So.. the day after the 1975 election I am sitting on a QANTAS 707 in Nadi and we're waiting for the stairs to be removed from the side of the aeroplane. To fill in time, the Captain says, "Ladies and gentlemen, you would not believe what is going on outside our aeroplane at the moment. The stair truck is stuck and so are we. And if you haven't heard the news already, the Whitlam Government was defeated in a landslide at yesterday's federal election at home."

And so it came to pass that Malcolm Fraser was going to "Turn on the lights!" Do you remember that? The Liberal campaign was built around that phrase. Three years later my dad exclaimed in frustration that, "Fraser couldn't find the bloody matches!"

And so we drifted through the late seventies with Malcolm at the helm, not doing much to sort out any problems and to me at least, looking more and more like an Easter Island statue every day.

Then one day I pick up the paper.. the headline reads, "Good Bye Mr Chipp" Don Chipp had resigned from the Liberal party and had a better idea. The Chippocrats were born!

So tell me all about it Don! He was coming to Brisbane so I asked if I could meet with him! Of course you can..  and it came to pass that I spent a couple of hours with him.. and found a new place for my political ideology. (Of course what I didn't know then was that the Democrats would eventually head to the left at high speed.. and away from my values) So I joined the Brisbane Central Branch of the Australian Democrats about the same time as Cheryl Kernot also joined. Meetings were held in member's homes. Cheryl's at Paddington and sometimes mine at Wavell Heights. Things are cruising along, I agree with most of their policies and the 1980 state election is coming. Mike West the candidate for the then seat of Toowong suggests I run for Everton. It was then held by Glen Miliner for the ALP. He was the son of Senator Bert Milliner.

My answer was simple. "No way Mike! I am only 27 and don't know anything." (Some might say nothing has changed)

About a week later I am watching Carson's Law with my now ex wife when the phone rings. She answers it and says.. "Don Chipp is on the phone for you."

"Bullshit!"

"No.. really"

"Hello Senator.. how are you? Fine Mark; do you know why I am calling?"

So.. the Australian Democrats had a new candidate for Everton.. me!

Boy was I unprepared for that. The only thing that went to plan was Don launching my campaign at a gala dinner at the Gaythorne RSL. He was brilliant.

Me.. er.. not so much! I remember talking about lots of stuff... some members of the Party thought that Terry Lewis, our top cop was corrupt and wanted me to say we would investigate the Police force. I wouldn't have a bar of that.. I knew the family!

Like I said.. I didn't know much!

Me launching my non career as a state politician.

In the middle of the campaign the abortion issue came up and I received a stack of letters from "Concerned Catholics" in the electorate about my views on this after Rosmary Kyburz made it an issue in the State Parliament. So.. I told them what I really thought.. not what they wanted to hear.

That went down well! Not!

At a barbecue fund raiser... me, Senator Michael Macklin, Cheryl Kernot and Senator Don Chipp.

Weekends spent letterbox dropping junk mail, my election posters being vandalised.. at least I had a moustache.. they couldn't draw one on. Got lots of devil's horns though!

After the polling booths closed, this exhausted trainee politician was so sunburnt and exhausted that I was in bed by 7:00 PM.

A good number that.. 7! If only I had polled that many votes! As it turned out I hardly made a dent in the electorate..  I polled, 6.1% or something like that.

It was an interesting experience. Especially in the old 3 corner contests where the AlP, the Liberals and the Nationals all went head to head. Not a lot of room left for minor parties.

Once Don retired.. well Don's Party was over really. He was a man of high principles in my opinion and he often asked of the public.. "Am I right in my beliefs, or am I a crazy Don Quixote tilting at windmills?"

Senator.. wherever  you are now.. you weren't tilting at windmills, you had a dream to keep the bastards honest. It was a noble cause. Rest easy mate.

And thanks for the experience!