Step one, Step three.

Every weekday morning at 7:20am whilst rushing to work and ascending the stairs from the subway the same thought goes through my mind: "Why are my legs so bloody short?" They're too short, or too long. I'm not exactly sure but all I know is that they can make climbing stairs annoying at times. I once read that Lance Armstrong's legs had the perfect combination of bone length and muscle structure for cycling and I concluded that I had the worst combination for climbing stairs. Each step always seems to be just that little bit too big or too small for one comfortable stride. Is there an international standard for step height? Who invented it? What was their bone and muscle structure? Whoever you are (if there is such a person), you better buy some shin guards champ because I've got a pair of steel cap boots with your name on them!
Growing up I lived on a hill and our house was built on the side of said hill. Inside, the floor plan climbed up with the shape of the hill so we had a lot of stairs. So many stairs meant that you didn't want to forget anything and you were constantly loading yourself up with whatever you had to carry to ensure you didn't have to make a few trips. It was time consuming and laborious to keep stomping up and down and I had heaps better things to be doing like watching Wide World of Sports. We only had the one bathroom and it was up the top so if you were right downstairs and needed to go.... you really thought about it. They were certainly character building stairs. Once old enough and big enough I figured out it was much quicker and easier on the stride if I just skipped a step on the way up. Sure it was a little more physical effort for one stride but I feel the overall calories burnt and time spent on stairs ended up being considerably reduced. Bang! Problem solved. "See you later stairs, I've got other shit to be doing rather than hang around you all day" So from an early age I was skipping steps left right and centre. When stair climbing race stories used to come on Wide World of Sports I was enthralled with their technique, I felt if I just worked on my fitness a little I'd beat all those suckers to the finish line running up with their '1 step at a time' technique. Skipping steps soon bled into other area's of life like school. In art and math you have to show how you got to the end result. Stuff that! "Look Teach. I was here, now I'm there and I'm right so that's all you need to know". (Hot tip: don't call your teacher 'Teach')
Strangely enough I wasn't always right, no one is always right and without following the right procedure from the beginning you can't see where you went wrong. Skipping steps in the process can set bad habits for out side the classroom. It's only Math and Art, who cares right? But that skipping step mentality meant I never 'just worked on my fitness a little' because I was always looking for a way to skip ahead. As a time deprived society we are always looking for that short cut, leg up, back door or jump of the queue. We must ask ourselves is saving a little extra time worth the consequences and sacrifice of character to do it the right way. By skipping steps we are depriving ourselves of the opportunity to see where we need improvement and subsequently grow as people. For a few extra minutes on the sofa we are missing the opportunity to watch the world go by in all its glory. It's pretty obvious that even Lance Armstrong with his perfect sized cycling legs took the necessary steps in his training to succeed and as a result was also able to enjoy the view of the world on the way to the finish line.

Michael J Fox & ALF make a cute couple.

I once got given a frisbee as a birthday present- Awesome! It was orange- More Awesome. It had vents on the side that made it whistle through the air- Totally Awesome! It had a picture of ALF in the middle- Yep, that just happened! The sweet tone of whistley goodness as it glided on the air was like it was ALF's spaceship coming to crash into our house. He'd definitely would have stayed in my room and we would have stayed up cracking jokes even after we'd been warned to go to sleep or no TV for a week. (Whatever, I'd only watch ALF anyway and that show wouldn't even exist because I'd be living it... gees) I could have made a book on tape for him to listen to while I was at school and on his birthday I would have given him a frisbee with a picture of me in the middle wearing a hawaiian shirt.
Early on my birthday a couple of years later a bike appeared from behind the sleet in my eyes- Woah! It had a tough name- 'Rogue'! It had gears- FIVE of them! It had florescent yellow forks- Yep, get outta my face! Rogue and I cruised the streets with the attitude of a soccer mum in an S.U.V and that meant no school teacher was going to tell us where we could and couldn't park. Basketball courts were blank bitumen canvas's awaiting skids from a never ending rear tyre and my thumbs got stronger from all the gear changes. Rogue was tough. Rogue had attitude. Rogue, got super seeded really quickly.
Like everyone, the 'Back to The Future' movie series made me think about things. Serious things. For a young impressionable mind the idea of going back in time was a new exciting thought process that inspired many a day dream and questions of one self. Being a young whipper snapper at the time of the films release it was the first time I started to ask "what would I have done different?" I wanted to be a passenger with Michael J Fox in the Delorian and jump from decade to decade. It encouraged me to find the frisbee underneath my bed and take it back out for a spin. ALF wasn't the same. He lacked the colour of old and we couldn't seem to connect the way we used to. When soaring the whistle was irritating and I couldn't help but keep looking at the time to see when it was going to be a socially acceptable to leave (I had a new fluro green Casio watch). It pained me to think that ALF and I had grown apart and it could be time to move on. I put the frisbee next to the bike underneath the house- where all old toys go to die. Rogue and I just didn't fit anymore, puberty happened and I had physically grown too big for it. Like the movie 'Toy Story' I like to think my childhood toys and day dreams all hang out together and talk trash over a milkshake.
Growing up and growing apart is part of the process to personal growth and revisiting the past is a necessary task to undertake but must be approached with caution. There's a reason Back to the Future only went for 116 minutes. If they had of filmed more period piece footage you would have realised that the 1950's was filled with a large portion of unidentifiable behaviours. No cable. No iPod's. No deep fried Mars bars. It's important to firstly acknowledge and then ask yourself if it is or not a good idea or time to revisit memories. Some things need to remain in the past.
But, if you do get a chance to go back in time remember not to bump into yourself and say g'day to Michael J Fox and ALF, they spend most of their time sipping the same chocolate milkshake through two straws at the dinner.

Keeping up with Jimmy Jones.

My best friend in kindergartens name was Jimmy. He was the coolest dude you ever met at age 4. The girls swooned over him and he never had a hair out of place. He had these brightly coloured red, yellow and blue zip up shoes that were the bomb and I wanted those shoes so bad I asked my Mum if I could get them (yes fashion conscious at age 4). We'd seen them on 'Cartoon Connection' and they were the 'must have' for the winter. They were amazing. Soft panelled vinyl with the power to illuminate the pavement and complement contemporary 80's style all while making the statement that you were part of the new 'cool'. The first day I went to put them on (actually it was my mum that was putting them on) the zipper broke! Can you believe it? My grand entrance into the 'show and tell' circle- gone! Who can I blame? The manufacturer, the quality control agent at the plant, the distributor- of course not I was 4 and had no idea how business worked so I cried. I cried as my dreams disappeared.
Later that year I had a play date with Jimmy at his house. Sure we were only 4 but, we were the biggest Mad Dogs and it was anyone's guess what crazy shit we would get up to so naturally we had to be supervised. Being mini we escaped the watchful grown up guard and went into the workshop of Jimmy's Dad. He was a potter and you couldn't take a step without potentially breaking something. Jimmy had a toy of some sort confiscated earlier and we ventured in to claim it back- no one was going to tell Jimmy what he could and couldn't play with (told you we were mad dogs). I thought it was a bad idea but I saw what Jimmy had and I wanted it too. The sweet fashion sense, the cool hair, the admiration of girls, (I know we were 4 but I seriously think its around that time when I peaked with the opposite sex) It had to be mine and this was the way to get it. We climbed up on the bench, scaled some shelves breaking shit left, right and centre to reclaim his toy. For some reason the sound of breaking ceramic pots caused alarm and we were busted. I explained to Mum on the way home that it was Jimmy's idea which was subsequently met with the character building question of "If Jimmy told you to jump off a cliff would you do it?" (Mum's- always have an answer within in a question for everything)
Envy and jealousy are cute when you're 4 years old but it can have serious ramifications when you're a grown up and the consequences of it come in varying forms. Those shoes represented a lot more than a fashion accessory and I wanted them so bad it hurt but when I finally got them they weren't everything I thought they'd be and couldn't accept it wasn't meant to be. What ever the motivations are that ignite your envy or jealousy it pays to recognise that we were not meant to have everything. Maybe if the 10th commandment had read "Thou shall not covet thy neighbours house nor Reebok pumps" modern society would have been able to understand what it meant and incorporate into to everyday practice a little better. Fast forward a few thousand years and you have another character telling you "Greed is Good"- best go with your gut on that one I think. My mum's 'jumping off a cliff' question got repeated a bit when I was growing up. As a budding fashionista and a pretty solid social life until the age of 6 it certainly had its place as a potential catch phrase but you have to wonder are external influences providing too much for parents to battle? are the societal and commercial pressures influencing youth of today too much for a young mind to comprehend and process an outcome right for them? are the avenues in which such influences are accessing these minds being overused and exploited?
So next time you're getting a little jelly of the kid next door ask yourself why, how you came to this point and scream at the top of your lungs: "Stick it up your arse Jimmy Jones, I'm not jumping off the bloody cliff!"

Lego Aeroplanes Pt2

They were everywhere as our truck pulled in to town. Yellow heads could be seen all the way to the edge of blocks. Although we were rejoicing I couldn't help but feel I'd entered the 'Danger Zone'. We'd left it all behind, made the decision to stop living with our heads and there was a new alphabet without the letters K, P and I. It was a celebration in town, suddenly the weight of the world was off our shoulders and living our nights by day. I do like hanging out in Lego town but the seats get uncomfortable after a while, it is hard to 'high 5' with the gang and it gets kinda creepy how they have to take their hair off to wear a hat. Living your dreams is fun nonetheless but, you have to exit the town at some stage and when you do the real world seems a whole lot bigger than one made of small blocks.
Once you've made the decision to dream, committed and rejoiced you can only live there for so long before you have to communicate it to the outside world, come out of the shed and tell everybody what you were looking for and that is not easy. It's wholly yours, it's personal and it's vulnerable. Modern day 'dreamers' are only spared from judgement if the dream manages to fit within the hours of 9 to 5 and involve a quarterly growth spreadsheet. Announcing the plan will come with scrutiny, the 'looks' will be easy to dismiss, the words easy to counter but the it's silence that lingers which is the hardest to respond to. Societal pressures that sell the comfort of safety will tempt and test you back to conventional thinking and invoke a sense of doubt that leaves you feeling like you were just stripped of an Olympic medal. It's not as easy as you thought it was going to be. Remaining on course is the hardest part to dreaming, only made difficult because you don't have a course to follow. One couldn't be blamed for dismissing them and giving up with everyday life as the reason for doing so. There's no wikipedia page to tell you how to achieve it and no A to F grading once you do.
It's often mistaken that dreamers don't know what they 'want' to do with their lives and sometimes appear lost to the outside world, that's not the issue, it's that they don't know what they 'have' to do to support their unconventional choice as most dreams don't fit into routine. Their dream is new system, a new way of thinking or a new career with no precedent for others to understand and subsequently accept. It's the brave that follow dreams and with a thousand phrases, analogies and metaphors to use along the way you just have to dream the right one for you.

Lego Aeroplanes Pt1

I've dreamt of being many things since I was a kid. I dreamt of being a fighter pilot so bad it hurt, that Top Gun VHS had plenty of static on it by the time it was done (it was a 'never tape over' video in the cupboard when you were looking for a fresh tape to record 'The Late Show'). I was attracted to the idea of being weightless and free in the sky. I used to draw aeroplanes until there was nothing left in the HB pencil (yeah- in your face 2B!), that transitioned into other modes of transport such as trucks. For some time I wanted to own a transport company like 'Scotts of Mt. Gambier' or 'Linfox', it was the visions of the open road and wind coming through your window at 110 that allowed me to lose focus in my eyes and day dream- until my brother reminded me that actually requires you to be a truck driver for many years beforehand. Then there were the standards: musician, cricketer and a designer at Lego. Every Saturday morning crouched in front of the TV watching cartoons, building empires block by block and creating a world that only my yellow headed friends and I knew the history to.
Then somewhere along the way 'dreams' turn into 'goals' and 'day dreaming' turned into 'time wasting'. Suddenly you have to be a big kid and then from no where "BAM!"- you're a grown up so 'dreaming' has become something that little kids do and your day now ends in 'KPI'. You have to create 'goals' and then quietly over time your 'Top Gun' idea flies away, the truck drives off into the sunset and your lego friends are sitting in the town you built wondering if you are ever coming back? And that's cool. We all get it. Life happens. Bills to pay, materialistic possessions to acquire and futures to think about. But we never forget our dreams, they aren't always the same as what they used to be, they have evolved, grown with us, still in the back of our mind, still there whispering in our ears as we speak out loud about our goals. Sometimes they get covered up in the back of the shed next to the cricket bat and lego set until one day you can't even remember if you still have them or what they even look like. It's a tough thing to go looking for them again and it's even tougher to tell someone thats what your looking for. "What are you doing out there in the shed?- Oh nothing, just looking for something"
So how do we recognise our dreams if we have forgotten them? How do we distinguish dreams from goals? I think you know when you verbalise them. Say them out loud or even just with your conscious and what ever comes out easily is a dream and and whatever breeds "buts", "although's" or completion dates is a goal. Dreams are spoken and goals are sighed. You can't put a time limit or a monetary value on them and your reasons for them are kept in the only possession you can take with you- your heart. Some dreams are meant to be put to an end by your brother and some are meant to be there in the background, and it's only you who decides which ones are worth holding on to and which to tape over.
And to my yellow headed friends, I'm sorry I'll be back soon, I just had to see a man about a dog and got a little lost.

Change the world by walking backwards.

A few days ago I went for a walk, crazy I know. I put on sneakers (for sneaking) and everything. It's always a big process before I leave the house because shore line fashion is everything and I need to leave quickly to avoid an uncomfortable conversation with the neighbours about gardening or where I'm from in Scotland. So as I quickly exit the driveway I walk straight forward- blinkers on to evade a potential conversation and more importantly so I don't have to see the the large pots I said I'd paint for my landlord a month ago. What? I've been busy filling my days with avoiding stuff!
Hitting the shoreline I'm in full motion. Tunes are cranking in my ears, swagger is set to 'cool but kind' and always on the lookout to tuck the tummy in if a girl walks past. A little way in to the trip there was some peaceful literature written on the concrete that read "fuck serbs", must be an anti-establishmentarian protesting the suburbs or something. These slogans appear from time to time in chalk  on the pavement and as I stepped sideways past the phrase I wondered if their was a local dispute in the making and if there is anything being done about it but I quickly forgot as a change of album was needed on the iPod. I hate when you're struggling to find that one album to go with your mood. Mood: Walking and looking 'cool but kind'. Music: Hardcore with positive undertones. Either way if the track doesn't hit me it's all too easy to change it.
Returning home I was sprung! The neighbour was out watering the garden. I've been in this situation before and it's best just to look in a rush if you want to make it in by night fall. But, she always has a way of sucking you in, it feels like she never draws breath so you don't get a chance to say you have to to go. My walk in the door always ends up being a walk backwards politely nodding and thinking "look lady I don't know what the annual rainfall of Glasgow is and I'm about to miss sports-centre" Maybe next time I'll stop for a proper chat and learn a bit more about her and the neighbourhood from through her eyes.
Now everyone can walk forward, sideways and backwards but the most common form of walking is away. Making a difference that contributes to positive social or environmental change is an evolutionary process that at some point requires one to stay motionless to listen, engage and reflect. It's your right to walk away from matters that may upset you but educating yourself is the single most important thing you can do to contribute to change. Looking up from the pavement to acknowledge the stranger coming toward you, seeing how your neighbour lives and watching the 30 second world news segment in the ad break of sports-centre stimulates questions of relevance and contribution to society. Not everyone is meant to be on the front line, but given change is evolutionary by educating oneself on the way others live and how the way you live directly or indirectly impacts their lives and vice versa will lead to positive change. By moving forward with an open mind, learning and passing your new knowledge on can make an immeasurable difference. You don't have to take to the streets, it can be as easy as the next time your sitting at the dinner table, simply mention what you saw on the news that challenged you and then you can politely change the topic back to taxes and Beiber. This simple act may go unnoticed but it may also falls upon the ears of someone who can again pass it on or make a hands on difference. Making a difference is everyone's responsibility. For society to move forward we need to take a minute, remove the blinkers, stop side stepping and educate ourselves. It can be done as simply as walking backwards to the fridge as you watch the World News segment instead of just changing the channel and walking away.

Dear you?

Dear Scenesters, hipsters, fashionistas, the couple who wear matching anything, drivers who stop for pedestrians in the middle of the road, those who can't drive in the wet, you- the guy who cut the line at the coffee shop ("yeah mate we all saw you"), the douche who let the rubbish fall out of the bin then kept walking like nothing happened, the guy who wears a contemporary fashion sailing 'outfit' but has clearly never seen the open sea's, occupy wall street movement supporters (if your'e 'sparing' the time to read this blog your'e already part of the problem (and so am I for having the time to write it) (and what's the problem? well thats subjective)) those who wear too much hair product (including 'surf hair'), the guy who calls the police every time someone is having fun in the street, the person that goes for a jog once a week for 20 minutes that wears 'skins' head to toe (you're a close relative of all fat cyclists who spent too much money on a bicycle that's used 4 times a year), enthusiastic fans of soccer, Queensland and Collingwood supporters, parking attendants, the stranger that doesn't acknowledge that there is someone else on the the footpath("move an equal distance to what I am dickhead"), footy club mentality, VL commodore drivers, petrol heads who have a sticker of a little kid urinating on an automobile manufacturer's name, stickers of stick figure families with their pets, the prick who walks away from their dog shitting in the park, happy meal toys, the asshole who think's its 'cool' to increase the volume of pop music at inappropriate hours of the morning, old mate who thinks no one can see him 'perving' through dark sunglasses, the moron who looks at the Mc Donald's menu on the perspex backing whilst standing at the order station like it's your first time (even my nana knew what was on there and she lived to her late 70's), Kyle Sandilands, water sprinklers that spray onto bitumen or concrete, people that keep checking their smart phones while talking to you (your'e not extra important- your'e just a wanker), rude people who wear sunglasses inside, gits who chew with their mouth open, jerks who leave gum on the bottom of a table, the owner of the brand 'tarocash' and people who wash their car more than they watch what they eat,

Piss Off!

Kind regards,
Everyone.

P.S, please share your peeve... I know you've got one.