AC/DC and the Running of the Bogans

One of the best things about living in the Capital this time of year is the amount of events and general activities on offer. SummerCity Festival cranks them out and you really need to schedule yourself in order not to miss out. True, I didn’t make down to the botanical gardens for any of the concerts, or the rotunda for salsa dancing, or Films by Starlight, however I did manage to get my arse along to the bogan-tastic spectacular that is AC/DC... Twice.

Having secured a ticket in ‘Pit 1’ at the Thursday night gig (28th), myself and a handful of friends donned the standard uniform:  jeans (black or blue) and a black tee-shirt.

Our group decided to have a pre-concert session at Macs Brewery on the waterfront in order to watch the running of bogans.

(Click here for the definition of ‘Bogan’ compliments of Urban Dictionary) 

And let me tell you, there were some glorious specimens to behold; a veritable sea of black tee shirts and gorgeous groomed mullets as far as the eye could see. Bands of every genre were represented on their bellies although most sported the Acca Decca branding. I was also surprised to see such a variety of age demographics represented in the crowd, in addition to plenty of 'cool kids' (with angular swedish hair cuts and square Ray Bans) poncing about. 

After a few jugs of beer and a very long walk to the stadium up the waterfront, we practically swam through the crowds and the sunshine on our journey to the caketin. We were even treated to a serenade of bagpipes to the tune of "Its a Long Way to the Top" en route.

Upon arrival, we immediately wrestled our way to the front of the mob to catch the tail end of the Shihad set and try and secure our prime location for the main event.

To be perfectly honest, I am not a seasoned, war hardened concert goer, nor do I pretend to be. I’m little, I get smooshed, I bruise easy and I can’t really see much due to said shortness. Most of all, I value my hearing.

However because we were attending as a group, I thought I might fare better.

I was mistaken. 

Not that I didn’t have a good time, I was just not keen to journey to the centre of the pit with the rest of them for dancing, sweating and other assorted pushy-shovey activities.

I managed to hold ground nearish the front for the first few songs with my trusty sidekick Jordan, however by the 5th song in the crowd was starting to surge and I had been vomited on twice - I decided I would be better placed near the back of that crowd with the more sensible people.

 Angus solo on raised moving platform

The show itself: The word ‘Epic’ was created to describe such a concert. Having worked in Event Management the last 5 years, I have had the opportunity to catch a fair few concerts here and there, but this was beyond anything I had seen (including the Rolling Stones and U2). Booming pyros, huge props and set pieces, lights zooming, graphics galore – it was a feast for the eyes and ears. (P.S. I was a nana and wore ear plugs – very sexy).

There was also an excessive amount of cleavage on show, and that was just the middle age men. However during one particular song, a combination of big screens, peer pressure, alcohol and a steady-handed camera man resulted in what the boys will forever refer to as “boobie heaven.”

 Brian amping up the crowd for Ms Rosie

Rosie Ridin' the rock n roll train

The rest of our night following the concert was fairly standard Wellington shenanigans. The Business were ripping it up at our local haunt, Molly Malones, and much more dancing and sweating ensued. I’m just glad we grabbed a sausage roll from BP on the way to town, otherwise I might have been in a bad way the next morning…Needless to say I didn’t roll into bed until around 4:30am (and this was a school night too!). However being young and spry, I was able to get myself out the door and to work by 8:45…a picture of beauty, of course.

BUT – for some reason…

I did it all again on Saturday night……thanks to a free ticket.

The Saturday night concert turned out to be slightly more rock and roll (in my perspective anyway) due to the following:

1)    We (English, Myself and the Warrick) got access to a VIP area and were treated to free drinks throughout the concert

2)    In the VIP area, we met some interesting characters, including this crazy rocker dude named Scott. He invited us to join his group for a few quick beers in his hotel after the concert as he “wasn’t going to make it through them all by himself”. Turns out it was a penthouse suite.

3)    In the suite, we were able to partake in his bar (well stocked with spirits) and someone busted out a guitar – we had a sing along. The only thing missing was a TV going out the window and someone on the roof yelling “I am a golden god”

4)    After leaving, an even MORE epic dance session at Molly’s ensued, involving jigging and strange ‘leaning’ dance move compliments of Scott. His credit card was on the bar for our tab. What?!

5)    We closed down 3 pubs and left a trail of destruction and empty glasses in our wake. Literally, the lights were on and the bouncers were chasing us out. English even managed to break a window at Mollys near the end (on accident of course).

6)    Our night eventually ended after a session at Vespa and dirty old J&Ms. Nothing better than emerging from a pub with the sun coming up, the birds singing and people going to church.

Come late in the evening Sunday, I and my liver had had enough tom-foolery to last me for some time. 

However, little did I know that the following weekend I would be attending the biggest party weekend in New Zealand – the Wellington leg of the International Rugby 7’s tournament…  

(Stay tuned for 7's update in the next edition)

T.M.I ?

(Too Much Information?)

I am addicted to my ‘favourites’ on my web browser.

I did not realise how much so until my computer decided not to wake up one morning and I had to use a different PC. It was a very stressful time in my life that I would like to share with you now.

I found myself slightly irritated at not only having to use icky Internet-Exploder, I also had to Gaggle search my much loved sites. The question did arise: “If you loved and depended on these sites so much, then shouldn’t you know them off by heart?”

The more I thought about it, the more I saw that this phenomenon also applied to my Yell Phone. I can cast my mind back to the not too distant past when I was able to recite all my best friends’ phone numbers from memory. And those were home phone numbers, mind you (do they even exist anymore?).  I know for a fact that losing my cell phone, and all my contacts, is a cause for major concern (having done so a few times now) as my memory is not what it once was.
 

 Losing a cell phone may not seem like a big deal to the older generations, but for the rest of us who conduct a large portion of our lives through the medium of phone and internet, it seems strange to call it just a phone (Tele- from the Greek meaning "afar, far off," while -phone is from Greek phōnē, "sound, voice").

These days a phone is so much more than transmission of voice – it is the primary source of organising social lives and networking; it is also our camera, email, internet access, banking, music, auction tracking, gaming/gambling, etc – all rolled into one handy pocket sized thing-a-mee. Mr Bell would find it mind bogglingly magical.

There are a few downsides I’ve noted as of late:
1) We are always connected 
2) The little thing-a-mees are easy to lose (especially if you are a woman with a giant handbag).

Not surprising, some people actually suffer from severe anxiety if they are suddenly cut off from their constant stream of information. It has also been recognised by doctors as a cause of ‘BlackBerry’ Thumb and other hand/joint disorders. Additionally, it has been identified by psychiatrists as a compulsive-impulsive spectrum disorder which can lead to further health and psychological problems. Neat!
 

Honestly, I feel sorry for those people whose decisions and actions are so heavily influenced by ‘how I will appear to the rest of the world on the net’. It must be hard to enjoy doing the fun stuff (and living life in general), if your main motivation is to constantly take photos, upload them via your $800 yell phone,  then spend time responding to the stream of comments about said photos.  “Look at me! Isn’t my life more exciting and wonderful that yours?! Hooray!” 

And the security settings: If friends of friends can view my page, there is no telling who that is and what they are seeing! I have had some shockers well documented by other people, but thankfully my friends are kind enough to leave tagging discretion up to me. I think it’s a good system – they post the photos and send me the link to the album. I then get to decide what will be tagged. If worse comes to worse, you can un-tag yourself in a picture and it cannot be re-tagged. *Whew*
 

Also, I know it sounds kind of crusty, but LinkedIn is quite good for keeping professional relationships separated from the Facebook crowd. I would rather not have my boss (although laid back and pretty groovy in general) laying eyes on the now infamous “After 3am Album”. An added bonus of LinkedIn: you can post your CV/Resume and get the inside scoop on un-advertised or upcoming jobs! Super.

Rules and etiquette: Do they exist on FB? Is there a mutually agreed upon social norm by the collective users about what is o.k. to display?  Personally, I think that social media is developing so quickly that things like rules and etiquette are slow off the mark. Anything and everything goes, and the implications of this down the track may only just be beginning to surface.

Going for a really high flying job in 10 years time? Failed to get it? Hmmm. Perhaps it had something to do with the video you posted on BoobTube five years previously that features you doing an epic keg stand at a party, followed by a round of vomiting all over the crowd....  “Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce our next CEO!" – Yeah that might be it.
 

To be safe, the ‘less is more’ approach to content might be the way to go, in particular with colourful language.  I personally do not like the F-Word or other swear words on my page. My family has access to my account and I don’t feel like I should have to put them on a limited profile because of what is posted about me. I keep it clean, so as my friend, can you respect me enough to do the same? If you need to express a naughty word, #@%!%’s are F*cking great for doing so.

 
“With all of these multipurpose applications, how can anyone be offended when you use the [F] word? We say use this unique, flexible word more often in your daily speech. It will identify the quality of your character immediately...” - From Monty Python’s “The Many Uses of the Word F*ck”

Also while I am on the subject, I am not a huge fan of people pulling fingers in photos. Seriously – you are not a ‘gangsta bad @ss', you are not cute, and essentially you are telling everyone and the photographer to “F-off” - Nice and polite.
 

Lets think this through: ‘Flipping the bird’ is not done so on a whim; it is pre-meditated. If you did ‘the fingers’ thinking you were being hilarious/ironic/clever/original etc, I am probably not the first to tell you that its time you get a new signature pose, poser. Perhaps you might experiment with a silly face, crossed eyes or rabbit ears instead? Besides, if your primary motivation was that you really didn’t want to be in a photo in the first place, I say it would be just as easy (if not more effective) to simply put up a hand or turn away from the camera. You can however blame fingers on intoxication, like most things.

In closing:  Clifford Stoll best captures my sentiments on the matter; “Why is it drug addicts and computer aficionados are both called users?”

Personally, I think switching off is a very healthy habit that we should actively attempt to do, even if it is only for an hour. My mom always used to say (as we dashed through the house at break-neck speed to pick up a call), “Life is not regulated by the ringing of the telephone. If it’s important, they will call back or leave a message.”

Kiwi summer strikes again

This weekend’s shenanigans featured a cameo appearance by an old friend from Switzerland – the one and only Klems! Joined by the usual suspects, we willingly braved the amazing Wellington weather to reminisce over beer and chips about the “Good Ol’ Palmy Days”.

As Mr Klems only makes it down to this part of the world every few years or so, it was worth the sideways monsoon rain and frigid winter-like temperatures. I mean, isn’t that what beer jackets are for? I know they can’t keep you dry but that’s not really the point now is it?

Having lived in Wellington a while, I have grown to understand that you can’t have great hope in the Kiwi Summer. I know many say, “You can’t beat Wellington on a fine day,” however those days are few and far between. Summer does exist in some places if you know where to go, and one can find blue skies, sand flies, and sunburn (within 8 minutes or less – guaranteed)!

No sunburns were going to be gained on this particular Friday however. Instead, we bundled up to embrace the shitness… And judging by the number of broken/inside out umbrellas in bins, it seems tourists didn’t get the memo about the pointless nature of umbrellas in Wellington…

Highlights of the evening included the lovely older gentleman (pushing 70) at the Malthouse who insisted on giving everyone a high five as he went by. MishMosh (the new and improved Jet Bar) seems like a place I would go again, and both Penny and I agreed that this had nothing to do with the lovely bar tender sporting dreadlocks and a lip piercing.

Lowlight would be Mighty Mighty – wasn’t even worth the 5 dollar cover. I blame the very depressing Emo band, combined with too many swaying mod kids in tight jeans on the dance floor. Although, it was quite funny when Penny got cracked on to not 3 steps in the door, much to the amusement of Sadie and Myself. A retreat to the ladies was required; beers were left half full etc.

After parting company with the rest of the gang near El Horno, Sadie and I headed to the always entertaining Welsh Dragon to check in with the charming proprietor. I can report that he has recovered greatly from his health scare earlier this year and was in good form for some jigging.

By 3:30am I had had enough beer, rain and sparkling conversation to last me, so I bid Sadie farewell and hopped into a taxi. Once in the taxi I realised I was starving and could not get home fast enough. Those noodles in the fridge didn’t stand a chance…

To those planning on travelling to New Zealand/Wellington: Make sure you have a great rain jacket, possibly one with a reinforced, double adjustment hood. Unless you want to needlessly kill an umbrella. ella. eh eh.

"Most of the time it was probably real bad being stuck down in a dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you'd look out your little window and think, ‘Boy, I'm glad I'm not out in that.’ – Jack Handy"

Major Issues with the World

(In no particular order)

Celebrity obsessed culture

I don't particularly care what Lindsay Lohan had for lunch or who is shagging who now. John and Kate? Gah.

Regional DVDs. Can't we all be as one?

My DVD player is universal, so why can't DVDs be as well? It really confuses my computer...

Wal-Mart

Destroying communities one town at a time

BlueTooth
"Yo - There is something growing on your head"

Fox News

Welcome new commentator, Sarah Palin!

Lycra

Its a privilege, not a right.

Rock band vs learning to play an actual instrument.

"We should have an acoustic session"

*Click.ClickClick* Clickkity CLiCk. Click" 

"Dude, he's rippin Stairway!" 

People with the worst taste in music listen to it the loudest.

More to come

Feel free to send me your suggestions!!!

Lunch, interrupted...

Out an about during my lunch hour today, I couldn't help but overhear a conversation bordering between hilarity and horridness ...reason being: it was an American talking on his 'Yell Phone'...

(Now, before you go and get your undergarments in a twist, please let me clarify something to you. I am an American so I am allowed to make such observations and statements about "my people". Secondly, I hold a New Zealand passport, so I am therefore free to comment on 'Foreigners'. Its a nice situation if you ask me.)

So the gentleman in question decided that everyone within a 5 kilometre radius needed to take part in the domestic argument via his super cool BlueTooth gadget thing clipped to his head. Personally, I would have been a lot happier with this disruption to my otherwise peaceful lunch if he had been suffering from a mild form of schizophrenia, leading him to believe he was Uhura from Star Trek, however this was not to be.

Obviously unhappy with the situation at hand, all of those within the vicinity of 'Rumble in Off-Beat Cafe' were too polite to tell him to take it outside. There were general mutterings and dirty looks shot from around the room to our oblivious cafe going culprit though. "That'll teach him!" I may be speaking from a biased position, but it seems that a large proportion of Americans feel it o.k to have loud, private conversations in public areas? I think I am missing something here.


From personal experience of my time overseas and travelling within the States, I can say sadly that this is not uncommon. I haven't taken a survey, its just what my eyes and hears have observed. Exhibit A: The situation at hand. Exhibit B: The Bus. Exhibit C: The Supermarket Checkout. etc etc.

I began to wonder if this phenomenon was driven by the respective cultural traits or if it was the result of the rate and availability in advancing technology? Do hands free phones suck so badly that they require you to have to speak louder than normal? Or is it just that you yourself are louder than normal from breeding? OR does one feed the other?

It was then that I realised BlueTooth technology could be added to my list of 'Major Issues With the World'. It just another tool to enable individuals who already thunder through life at large, not caring or being aware of their effect on the world around them, to make more of a presence. I link Americans to this because in general, they seem to be suffering the worst affliction, and I venture to suggest that it might stem from the fact we are taught from a young age that the rest of the world, and perhaps, the universe revolves around America.

Maps depict us as the largest and in the middle of everything ("Sorry Russia, you are actually in two bits. And sorry South America, you may be almost as large if not larger, but long and skinny ye shall be"). Its no wonder that the likes of Miss South Carolina seemed so confused on the matter.

So really, its not our fault we are this way. I mean, have you seen Fox News? Wait, don't answer that. However I do think the major failing of my fellow Americans is that we often don't bother to discover that there is a world out there besides our own or that there are other languages besides English to speak. If only there was a "Red Pill/Blue Pill" choice for the American people. However most are happy to accept the reality with which they are presented.

This is a very broad statement. In actuality, I know a large number of tame, well mannered, conscientious, polite, open-minded, lovely Americans who can happily exist and live in the world at large. Sadly, of the304,059,724 Americans on the planet, the wankers are more largely represented and encountered than the alternative.

I digress from my story. Eventually, I had had enough of the conversation and nicely asked the chap "Well, are you winning, or not?" To which he replied with a curt nod and then promptly left the premises. Once clear of the building, there were sighs of relief and a thank you's from the patron at the table next to mine (who informed me she was nearly ready to do the same).

My closing message is this: If the conversation you are about to have was a cigarette instead, please find a suitable place to smoke it (i.e. outside, in the open, away from everyone).

Upcoming post: "You Can't down your sorrows in Vodka - you only teach them to swim..."