Author Archives: Therese Trouserzoff

A Sequence Of Highly Regulated Events

26 Friday Aug 2011

Posted by in Bands at the Pig's Arms, Entertainment Upstairs, Warrigal Mirriyuula

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Playlist and Image by Warrigal Mirriyuula

Today I’ve been up;  not quite kickin’ arse and takin’ names. Apparently they’re worried about diminished aerobic capacity so I’ve been on the treadmill. Nothing too strenuous, a brisk walk sort of thing. I couldn’t do it without a soundtrack. This list is the result. Sequencer tracks are good for any repetitious activity. (13/8/2011)

Just press the little knob down to start.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ivd6I-L8s2E

Mike & The Mechanics, All I Need Is A Miracle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gV2ggqJz4us

The Communards featuring Jimmy Somerville, Run Away

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1IsJEOVfnw

New Order, Blue Monday

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpZ9gEKBoYI

Thomson Twins, Hold Me Now

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H2Tt86_PdGM

Orchestral Manoeuvers In The Dark, Enola Gay

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UMPC8QJF6sI&ob=av3e

Visage, Fade To Grey

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-sFK0-lcjGU

Art Of Noise, Close To The Edit

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iH33RIfi2KI

Art Of Noise, Peter Gunn

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=68C-r9kSLNE

Kraftwerk, Autobahn

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fI8834iCgo

Thomas Dolby, She Blinded Me With Science

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTOQUnvI3CA

Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Two Tribes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3j2NYZ8FKs&ob=av3e

Pet Shop Boys, West End Girls

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqyc37aOqT0

Peter Gabriel, Sledgehammer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2ilpYb_SbA

Hall & Oates, Maneater

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPudE8nDog0

Human League, Don’t You Want Me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGSKrC7dGcY

Depeche Mode, Enjoy The Silence

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DCpxSzacbyc

DEVO, Jocko Homo (Are We Not Men, We Are DEVO.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEh5pWjcWCg

Soft Cell, Tainted Love

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8ujNrjVNYI

Blondie, Call Me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VosFiY1SifA

Jon Anderson & Vangelis, I’ll Find My Way Home

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3v8Wden1LFs

Jon Anderson & Vangelis, State Of Independence

Keywords: Mike & The Mechanics, The Communards featuring Jimmy Somerville, New Order, Thomson Twins, Orchestral Manoeuvers In The Dark, Visage, Art Of Noise, Art Of Noise, Kraftwerk, Thomas Dolby, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Pet Shop Boys, Peter Gabriel, Hall & Oates, Human League, Depeche Mode, Devo, Soft Cell, Blondie, Jon Anderson, Vangelis

The Gift

26 Friday Aug 2011

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 45 Comments

Story and photo by Jules, VL, Vee-ell, Vectis Lad and Lord Funston, Hadron, Little Hadron etc…..

Oh well, Vee-ell thought, another blustery day in paradise. What lies in store—he wondered?

The plumber was due at 8:30, just about the time he got back from walking the dogs. Not due to carry out any plumbing; simply to spray some bright paint from an aerosol can. The paint, to be used as a marker, so that the concrete cutter, when he arrived would be clearly able to see—to make his incisions in the pathway.  After all, without this crucial surgery, how could the waste pipe be cut, to insert the branch?  It got him thinking, was it the right thing to do?  Move the washing machine into the garage.  However it was such a monster, that it deserved its own sepulchre; being far too big for the new laundry, with its chintzy new glazed cupboards. And it was, after all said and done, a dryer too.  So it needed more space, just like Audrey II.

Yes it was it was going to be yet another hum-drum morning—Vee-ell mused, as he pulled his Honda into one of the narrow car spaces outside the main post office. There were ample spaces, but all on an angle, meaning one had to be wary; what with all of the secretaries collecting the office mail first thing and juggling car spaces like stumps on an Aussie wicket.  Still it was always pleasant to jump out and inhale their perfume, after the doggy smell in the trusty car.  He felt sure that the secretaries competed.  They were all perfectly coiffed, with shiny bijou belts and Lily inspired skirts. Lily inspired, he reconsidered?  Doubt it.  This lot are more ‘Bingle` than Lapkin, was his thought bubble.

Vee hopped out, dodging a secretary with an armful of papers and opened the mail-box, pausing for a second; pondering on the content: a bunch of mail.  No surprise there.
Spam in the bin, window envelopes to the bottom, chunky ones to be squeezed, put on top and speculated on.

Well, there was one worth opening on the spot: it seemed mysterious, but its arrival had been augured: its precise content unknown. The NSW postmark was a portent. Beguiling, he thought.

Immediately, Vee got down to it; stripped the tab back where the pull command was written in red and roughly jemmied the padded thing open. But then, what did he find? Another identical envelope inside. Just like the first. Feeling thwarted, but on the scent, the next red tab was yanked. This one however revealing an oblong plastic device wrapped in a hand written note.

The note was read, on the spot, holding it at full stretch, interfering with a matronly lady carrying a…an armful of papers. The note, fanfared the booty: a selection of music recorded to a Sony USB microvault.  So without more ado, Vee leapt back in the car, battling the dog-fumes—and hurtled out of the car park. The disapproving looks from the secretaries being a bonus.

The note and USB were from a fellow Pigs patron: young Hung, so with some excitement & ceremony, Vee cleared a space to examine this absorbing event.

Well a cursory scroll and an hour surfing, revealed a complex, eclectic collection. Some delightful and riveting ensembles. Something old, something treasured and something(s) new.

It would not do this kind deed justice, to blurt out the titles of this collection. They will be savoured by Vee-ell alone in the first instance.

His cup runneth over. And his gratitude will be fuel.  The USB, will be returned to its generous owner, once the music has been thoroughly examined.  All hail Hung.

Pig’s Psalm 18 The Pub is My Shelter

24 Wednesday Aug 2011

Posted by in Pig Psalms

≈ 45 Comments

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I love you, our pink slice of heaven.

I’m loving you all through and through.

From your chromium-legged laminex tables

To the Mondrian Brothers’  tiled loo.

I love your pub ceiling yellow

And the tiles that bedeck all your walls

The nourishing pub food sustains me

And the beer puts fat hairs on my balls

I love all the patrons who attend thee

I’m loving our dear Mervyn too

Say hello to the beautiful Janet

Say hello to the Hell’s Angles crew.

And the bands that rock all our socks off

In the Nathan Rees Memorial Ballroom upstairs

I’m fond of the Hedge in the carpark

And the deals done when nobody cares.

I like all the Cooks River Fishies

And most of the Sea Scouts, don’t you ?

And the always-rigged Friday raffle meat tray

Lady bowlers who hang out there too.

Let’s give thanks for our

Wonderful Pig’s Arms

And Bless all who go for the view

The writers and painters and poets

The clowns and philosophers too.

So we can all come and raise up our glasses

Drink a toast to the great Trotter’s Ale

Drink a toast to the friendliest piglets

Drink a toast to the curl in the tail.

 

Digital Age

20 Saturday Aug 2011

Posted by in Gregor Stronach

≈ 9 Comments

By Gregor Stronach

I am constantly being gleefully informed that we live in the digital age. Things aren’t what they used to be, and it’s the advent of digital technology that has changed the urban landscape in which we all live.

I can remember the great leaps forward in technology that have occurred in my lifetime – calculators that played games, Nintendo Game and Watch machines (hopelessly impractical for telling the time, by the way, as battery life was severely limited by playing the games), and digital watches that played games (which, much like the Nintendo games, were just crappy). And then TV Tennis came along, and shook the globe to its core.

Homes around the world reverberated to the sounds of ultra-competitive fathers proving mastery of hand-eye co-ordination over their infant children. There were screams as spouses began to beat seven shades of shit out of each other, following allegations of cheating, reprogramming and – shock-horror – handset tampering.

Tampering with the handsets to ensure victory was no easy feat. Early attempts included the addition of substances such as boiling water and even gin to adversely effect the operation of the controllers, sending TV Tennis combatants sailing to the top of the screen, never to return after each serve took place. I personally was stabbed with a butter knife by an angry sibling following one episode of tampering. Thankfully, the knife struck a rib, and the world was spared another premature funeral.

As the world has become a more technologically savvy place, it seems odd that the great leaps and bounds in software and hardware technology have been poured into two places first – billion dollar defence systems and multi-billion dollar gaming console empires.

Sony, once famous for bad transistor radios and hellishly good cocaine parties at its record label headquarters, has emerged as the force to be reckoned with. Even the world’s richest man, with a personal army of socially dysfunctional four-eyed nerds, can’t produce a better gaming system than the lovely, lovely people at Sony.

Why am I being so nice to Sony? Have I sold out to the big dollar corporation? Or am I just trying as hard as I can to get a free Playstation 2?

No…it’s fear that’s driving me today. I know that Sony has secretly been spending billions and trillions on getting some of the ideas from its computer games off our TV screens, and into our defence budgets. It’s a natural progression from Sony Corp to Sony Corps.

I can see it now. If the technology isn’t frightening enough, then picture this: The battle has been fought and won by the world’s computers. The Microsoft X-Box has been body-slammed from the top rope by Playstation, with Nintendo relegated to waterboy for the event.

But when the real war starts – the ground war to mop up the stragglers – the future is very real and very scary. Hoards of teenagers with wide eyes, astonishing reflexes, hand-eye co-ordination and over-developed thumbs will take to the streets in a orgy of looting, shooting and driving fast cars.

And I’ll be there, in the front line, my Lamborghini Diablo idling effortlessly at the lights, waiting to prove that it is me, and only me, who can be the true champion of the world. I will, of course, be armed with the latest in high-powered miniaturised assault weaponry, most of it mounted somewhere on the vehicle. Add to this a thumping soundtrack of my own creation, and the world is thus destined to be my oyster. Join me, my gaming-mad brothers and sisters.

This revolution will not be televised. This revolution has been live.

First published at Rum and Monkey – if you can believe this, in 2002 !

Louting and Writing

17 Wednesday Aug 2011

Posted by in Lehan Winifred Ramsay, Politics in the Pig's Arms

≈ 22 Comments

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Story and Photograph by Lehan Winifred Ramsay

I think that we should not place too much emphasis on the underlying motives and motivations for rioting and looting. Once it gets big enough it’s no longer individual rage. It’s spectacle. Spectacle every bit as large and sumptuous as the royal weddings. Of which there was one only last week. Wasn’t there? People love spectacle, and now with our social media we can all be part of them, whenever the and wherever the bigger all-present Media should point our attention.
People think that there can’t be any connection between a riot and a wedding. Especially if they’re not happening at the same time. But there is, people are glued to the television screen, it’s very big, very grand. The fact is, we can’t really get excited and make large pronouncements about natural phenomenon so well. But we can get excited about people tying knots and making their desires so public.
I don’t know what you thought, but I liked the brooms, I thought they were a very nice touch. I was really looking forward to the waves of looters, waves of brooms, waves of looters. Then I read that the brooms were a media construct, and I was disappointed. The waves of looters, they were the real thing, and then those brooms, they weren’t. And there I was, foolishly, imagining that they had all been doing their thing imagining themselves to be on camera.
Off-camera, I guess it might have been a little different. The problem is, there isn’t really any such thing as off-camera any more, if you’re English. All public space and much of the private space is now on camera. What that means is that as soon as there’s a hint of trouble on the streets, anything coming after that, anyone shown anywhere, are as good as there. Any youth not wanting to get his or her face on Television this week really had to cover up with anything they could. And anyone with anything on their face was, we all know, a looter.
Not a few months ago people with something stuck on their heads were called ever-so-fortunate, and were assumed to be guests of the Royal Wedding. Can we say that the prevalence of headwear at this riot is some kind of response to the tendencies of the British upper classes to dress up their heads? Maybe, probably. Perhaps the hoodie phenomena speaks to us of the facelessness of the riot monster creature, it’s headless-but-many-eyed, limbless-but-many-armed organic/robotic octopus-like presence.
Young people like social media spectacles because they can be part of something bigger than themselves. They let go of themselves and become part of the event, the machine, and if the machine tells them to loot, to light fires, to perform, that’s what they do. It’s a performance. Performance is no longer confined to the defined and delineated event. If you are connected, then in some way your mobile phone will hear of it and will call you. You do not need to make a decision to opt in. You are called. Your presence is sought. Your participation is assumed.
We’ve all no doubt gone through some kind of trying ordeal. Gotten to the end of it exhausted and confused; confused because we could not say why we would have done such a thing, such an ultimately unprofitable thing. We couldn’t see the enormity of it before we started, and by the time we did, it was too late. I’m sure a lot of people who participated in the events of London.
But what of those who wanted a riot, went into a riot, deliberately chose to riot. Most times a riot gets put down before it really gets to the size that it can be called a riot. Perhaps we can say that in this day and age, there is only a riot where there is a television camera. And yet, generally where there is a television camera there is also police, confrontation, conflagration, and the violence is usually put out before it can escalate. Perhaps this is a case in which the predictable chain of events did not happen. Social media getting ahead of Big Media, changing the conditions. Or maybe not the Medias at all, but the players. The performers.
The Police changing their strategies. Instead of jumping in, they were directed to stand back. This spectacle changes the rules. Instead of the performance we find it was the audition. The real performance will be the next one.
What’s it going to be, the next one? While all the aristocracy of the olympiad strut their wedding finery on the field will the surrounding suburbs be holding the torch? It’s clear that many young Londoners are looking for an excuse to party. And who could blame them. They watch their Greek compatriots, the Egyptians, the Libyans, and they have some real passion in their performance. England is neither too sheltered nor too miserable for comfort. Just irritated. A year to go to the Olympics, a lot of potential partiers have just gotten their wrists slapped and their mugshots snapped.
I too was a bit shocked to hear that ballet dancers, young ambassadors, school children had been involved in the looting. Usually we just call them youths, or unemployed, or black. Even our troubles are becoming gentrified. But then, ballet dancers have been outed by Bigger Media. Hollywood Herself. As has the U.N., and therefore anything ambassador.
We’re all going to seem quite old-fashioned if we don’t start gearing up for local riots. Clearly they are where the news is. Where the eye is. Not long before brands start popping up deliberately in the flames, not just the luck of the draw. Photographers breaking windows so they can set their models on fire, what a nice piece of editorial that would be. Designers wishing and praying that theirs will be the next target. Before long we’ll all be out hitting the shops. Getting a little of that cachet.

Chilean Miners Redux

14 Sunday Aug 2011

Posted by in Neville Cole

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Llamas gather for the 1 year celebration of the miners' release

Story (and the good photographs) by Neville Cole

This week I returned to Chile to celebrate the anniversary of Chilean miners release from their harrowing 69 day ordeal underground. What I found was far from a joyous occasion. Several of the miners and I gathered at a popular local bar in Copiapo called The Man Cave. Here now, in their own words, several of the miners talk about the events of the past year.

The Author enjoys a beer in a quiet corner of the Man Cave

NC: Yesterday was the anniversary celebration of your release from the mine. Did it turn out as you expected?

YONNI: For me, it did. Things have been very bad since we got out of the mine. Why would this be any better?

EDISON: I did not expect to be pelted with apples and oranges. I did not even get to sing Blue Suede Shoes.

NC: You have become quite famous this past year for your Elvis impersonation, haven’t you Mr. Pena? You even were invited to visit Graceland, as I understand. I am surprised Jaime never mentioned your singing in his diary.

YONNI: His singing is as bad as his marathon running! 5 hours, 40 minutes and 51 seconds! What a joke!

EDISON: At least my wife came to see me when I came out of the mine!

YONNI: I wouldn’t be so proud about that! Your wife is hairier than my dog. I thought it was your grandfather you were kissing!

JAIME: Brothers, please! Let us not bring up old quarrels. We are free now are we not? Is not any of this better than being stuck in the mine?

EDISON: You are just happy that his missing wife took some of the heat off you. A wife and a mistress greeting you for the press! Ay! Carumba!

PACO: I for one miss the mine. I have tried to get sent back down many times; but they will not hire me again. That is why I sold my story to the News of the World and started this bar.

MARIO: This place is creepy. Are these fur-covered shackles on the wall?

NC: Mario. Good to hear from you again. From what I understand, you were the miner who spent most of your time underground training to run in marathons yet Edison was flown to New York to compete in last years race. How do you explain that?

MARIO: Edison has a very big mouth. He runs with me 2 maybe 3 times while we are in the mine but as soon as he gets out he is talking like he’s Alberto Salazar or something. I should never have let him go up before me. I might have had a chance at that race. He barely made it in before the sun came up.

EDISON: I will race you any where, any time, any way you want.

NC: Gentlemen. It has not only been a tough time for you but also a difficult year for all of Chile. President Pinera, who was so instrumental in organizing your release, is under attack from all quarters. His popularity has sunk to 26%. Miners have gone on strike closing mines and costing mine companies millions of dollars in lost revenue. Students have closed universities and high schools for more than two months seeking education reform. Mupuche Indians have occupied ancestral lands. There a protests against proposed dams inPatagonia and planned coal mines in the north. At your celebration the President was quoted as saying:

“The time of the protests, the strikes, the takeovers, the violence has passed. Now has come the time to construct and not keep destroying, the time of dialogue and not of intransigence; the time of solutions and not of confrontation, the time of unity and not of division.”

PACO: Do you have a question?

NC: At the protests yesterday it was clear to me that many of your fellow Chilean’s see you as political puppets. How do you feel being so closely aligned with Pinera?

PACO: Pinera is a good man. He has visited my bar many times and always spends a lot of money.

JAIME: I don’t like it at all. We have been treated as dogs and ponies. Poor Omar has gone into shock. When the people threw the fruit at him he stopped talking altogether. I talked to his son, Omar, and he told me his father, Omar,  just sits in the corner and won’t say a word. It is very sad what they have done to us.

EDISON: Omar hardly spoke the whole time we were in the mine either. Face it, he’s just not a talkative guy. Look Pinera is a politician. He is doing his best to run a poor country in difficult times. So, he tries to milk us for a little positive press? What’s the big deal? Is he the first president to try and take advantage of feel good story? No. Will he be the last? No. I can only speak for myself but I have never been happier and if our lawsuit comes through, believe me, even poor old Omar will be grinning like the Cheshire cat.

NC: Let’s talk about that for a moment. You all stand to split 17 million dollars from the Chilean mining companies while your fellow miners are struggling mightily to get a pay raise that amounts to only a few more pesos a day.

YONNI: We were the ones stuck underground for 69 days. Do you think anyone would be even discussing safety if we didn’t get stuck in the mine? They will all gain from our suffering.

NC: But many feel that the reason they are not giving the miners a raise is because they are concerned about the large payout you men may receive.

EDISON: It’s all politics. There is plenty of money to go round. Maybe we do need a new president. Maybe someone who knows what it is like work underground should be president. Maybe someone with connections in the United States should be president. Maybe someone who can sing like the king should be president.

JAIME: Edison is thinking of running for president.

NC: Really. I hadn’t heard that.

EDISON: When I am named president I am going to step to the podium and say “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Then I’m thinking of opening with Viva Las Vegas but instead of singing “Las Vegas” I’m going to sing “Chile”.

NC: Stranger things have happened. Thank you all for joining me today. It’s been a pleasure talking to you all again.

YONNI: I understood there was going to be a free lunch today?

JAIME: …and beer?

NC: Ah…well, beer I can manage but I didn’t make any plans for lunch.

EDISON: Typical Australian journalist.

Just another Friday night at The Man Cave

After I purchased several rounds, Paco put on some hard driving techno trance and The Man Cave quickly filled with patrons ready to party the night away. It seems there was to be a celebration for the miners after all.

 

Moti’s Illegal Deportation

09 Tuesday Aug 2011

Posted by in Susan Merrell

≈ 5 Comments

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Julian Moti

Story by Susan Merrell

Aussies not aiding Solomon Islands to uphold the rule of law

Canberra: In Australia’s High Court last week, Justice Heydon, one of seven judges hearing the appeal of former Attorney General Julian Moti, conceded that although Moti’s 2007 illegal deportation from the Solomon Islands was a decision of the Solomon Islands’ government, Australia failed to fulfil its mandated role (under RAMSI).

“We [Australia] went to the Solomon Islands in order to restore the rule of law,” he said.

“What happened on 27 December [the illegal deportation] did not involve the Australian Government participating in a process of restoring the rule of law.”

Moti was in court appealing for a permanent stay of prosecution as redress for Australia’s alleged abuse of executive process – i.e. deportation, in contravention of a court restraining order that gave him 7 days to appeal.

Also in court both days observing proceedings was Solomon Islands High Commissioner BerakiJino.

The 2007 deportation led directly to Moti’s subsequent arrest in Brisbane and brought him wrongfully into the jurisdiction of the Australian courts.

Ian Barker QC for Moti, argued the Australian authorities ‘connived and colluded’ with the Solomon Islands government to effect what counsel described as an “abduction.”

Commonwealth Director of Public Prosecutions (CDPP) argued to the contrary that Australia was rightfully disinterested in the internal processes of another sovereign governmentand evidence was led includingofficial emails to Australian personnel in Honiara telling them to maintain the correct protocol and not become involved in the Solomon Islands deportation process.

However, there was competing evidence that these directives weren’t obeyed – including correspondence by AFP officers and other officials discussing and making arrangements for the departure of Moti via deportation.

Canberra’s wrongful involvement was further highlighted by a travel document emanating from the Australian High Commission, issued via instructions from the Australian capital.

It was issued without the request of Moti and was the document that facilitated the deportation.

The Justices questioned whether the Australian authorities could and should have denied supply of this document as they were aware of the illegality of the process it would serve.

CDPP argued that the Australian authorities, in issuing the document,were acting on legal advice from the Solomon Islands that the deportation was legal.

In response, Justice Heydon said the legal reasoning behind the advice was ‘laughable’ and furthermore that the Australian authorities had never accepted the veracity of that advice “for a moment.”

Justice Susan Kiefel, commented that given that the Australian authorities had the choice to deny issuance of the document, especially as they knew it was to carry out an illegal activity – that “…in that exercise of choice there may be the collusion.”

With the full bench of the High Court not calling for any evidence from the Commonwealth Director of Public Prosecutions (CDPP) on the second ground of appeal – the excessive payments to witnesses, making it likely that this ground will be thrown out – Moti’s case will be decided on Australia’s inappropriate’collusion’ in the unlawful deportation process.

The court reserved its judgment and a verdict is expected in the coming months.

Should the appeal be upheld, Moti will be granted the permanent stay of prosecution if not, the court case emanating from the 2006 charges of child-sex tourism from an alleged statutory rape in Vanuatu in 1997 will go ahead.

First published in the Solomon Star – Monday 8 August

Ecology, Tenderly

09 Tuesday Aug 2011

Posted by in Lehan Winifred Ramsay

≈ 10 Comments

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Ecology, tenderly

Painting and Story by Winifred Ramsay

I saw two rainbow lorikeets in the tree at the top of the yard. This tree had hard brown pods, and one had opened. They were both standing on the branch next to the pod. One of them would reach into the pod and pull out the seed. It was a flat round seed encased in a piece of translucent paper-like material.  The lorikeet would give the seed to the other lorikeet, who would nibble at it and then let it go, and it would float down like a large snowflake through the yard. Then it would take one for itself, then it would give another one to its mate. They did that until the pod was empty. What a lovely partnership, I thought. Ecology, tenderly.

Old Dogs

07 Sunday Aug 2011

Posted by in Neville Cole

≈ 25 Comments

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Blue

Story and photographs by Neville Cole

They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I say why would you want to?

Old dogs got it all worked out. They appreciate the finer things in life: good food, good company, a nice nap in the sun, and the occasional stroll in the park. Old dogs don’t make a fuss unless they really have to. Old dogs are nearly always close by. Old dogs make me look forward to being an old man, almost.

My old dog is Blue. She recently came back to live with me because a young dog decided she was past her prime and tried to rip her head off. Blue was beaten and miserable when she arrived at my door and the big wound across the back of her neck took forever to heal.

But with time and peace and quiet some of her old vim and vigor has returned. A nice bone from the butcher makes her deliriously happy and when Lisa talks to her in a high sing song tone she gets downright puppyish.

It’s nice having an old dog around. Granted, I live alone most of the time and my kids, when they do turn up, are all grown. I don’t need protection or entertainment from my pet. Someone who will listen to my complaints and rambling thoughts and doesn’t require all my attention in return is pretty much perfect for me.

Right now Blue is taking a nap at my feet. That’s very comforting for a writer.

She is at me feet a lot. Blue has this way of showing respect. She wants me to always be in the lead. This is fine except when I try to walk into a room she is already in. If that happens she tries to bulrush past me before I reach the doorway so she can follow me into the room.

As a result almost every time I move from the bedroom to the living room or vice versa I have to be sure to dally at the doorway and dodge the bustling black and white blur determined to find her proper place in line.

I guess I could try and find a way to train Blue not to do that; but really, why bother, she’s an old dog and pretty much set in her ways. One day far too soon I will be too.