fun

Spaced out – a blog rant because it’s been a while and I’m a bit rusty

(Disclaimer: This is my first blog in a few months, I have dropped/sprinkled some f-bombs but I’m hoping they fit the ranty style)

I love all things to do with space; fact, fiction and everything that has yet to be classified. So I was there watching the live stream of SpaceX fist true payload test flight yesterday. Let’s just say it was more exciting than the cyro test for the James Webb telescope.

In years to come it will be interesting to see what people recall of Elon Musks – SpaceX Falcon Heavy launch, more significantly the ‘dummy payload’. I used to be a bit meh about Musks plans of getting to Mars, I felt there were things we should tend to here first (like a lot of people I suspect). However I think once humanity gets to Mars and realises what a shit hole it is (sorry Mars, you lost your magnetic field, had your atmosphere stripped, your oceans boiled away and more than likely the only life is bacterial) it will hopefully be the wake-up call needed to stop shitting where we eat.

But back to that payload – the cherry red Tesla Roadster with Starman at the wheel, blasting out David Bowie I have to say ‘classy dude…nice choice’. For everyone wringing hands about ‘space junk’ (here comes the rant) CHECK THE FUCKING TRAJECTORY! It is metaphorically the same as me going to a river picking up a stick and chucking it in a stream to see where it might end up out at sea, then people screaming about polluting the river. It is (was!) headed for Mars, not orbiting earth, but overshot (too much power Elon – I feel myself channelling Scotty from Star Trek ‘I’ve given it all I’ve got captain’) and is going to make it to the asteroid belt – yes a massive collection of debris. They had to put a payload on the end to test it. Picking a car as others have said is a better representation of actual payloads – not the usual block of concrete or steel. Why not test and have a bit of fun? The Starman suit is also a genuine suit soon to be used so – yeah – it also serves a purpose…and it’s FUN! It should not have to be an ‘either/or’ choice when it comes to science and technology pushing ideas or the environment. Tesla has invested research into alternative energy – again – how about checking with other big companies about their commitment to sustainability.

Speaking of sustainable, the rockets – reusable. So to all those complaining about pollution, space-junk etc, how’s your recycling going? Sure Tesla might get some marketing out of it – and why the fuck not! He took a huge gamble.

No – of course the car is fucking next to useless in space, orbiting Mars – wherever – so is a massive piece of steel and concrete. Oh and let’s not forget there are meteors bigger than The Roadster hurtling toward daily, so please (to those concerned hand wringers) STFU about shit from space – space is full of stuff, all sorts of stuff and who knows some of that stuff might have come from previous Mars civilisation wondering if it could send someone to Earth….ponder that.

Next stop – the Flat Earthers…not sure when I will get ‘round’ to that. I sphere I may go round in circles.

 

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Get On The Grass

I have fond memories of grass related activities as a child. We made mud slides in paddocks (picture supplied, T’shirts never recovered),  played hide and seek in waist high kikuyu (think a grass version of waist deep snow) and learnt the seasonal prickles via experience. I reckon most kiwi kids recognise the green to brown change of onehunga weed in summer. I remember doing athletics and hoping not to get ‘the prickle lane’. Some sports like hockey have benefited from the move to artificial turf but I reckon those of us who battled the natural stuff learned a lot about friction and the usefulness of sleeves for wiping mud out of your eyes.

But it’s even simpler than that. I remember making seed head sling shots and blowing dandelions.  And who can make a grass whistle between their thumbs? (Well it sounds more like a cross between a fart and a scream combined than a whistle). Today I remembered and shared these with a young person and the delight and joy of mastering the art of mimicking flatulence was as it has always been.

So come on all you grown up kiwi kids time to bond over some seedy weed fun with younger kids. Lets not lose these traditions to technology or lawn mowers.

Glory or gory days

A little red flag popped up on my facebook page last night terribly exciting for this digital introvert. I was in the middle of writing my previous post and I had momentary smirk as the strange synergy of the universe seemed to be toying with my sense of irony. Someone was inviting me to play a game of football tomorrow. Back to kicking balls, something I spent many hours doing in my youth and was pretty good at it. Of course this is all in the past, in fact my last real club game was last century. As I was pondering my response – which could only be a yes or a no, I wanted to understand the simultaneous excitement, dread, and curiosity. It’s a division 3 game and apparently won’t be that serious…yeah right. Problem is my default setting has always been extremely competitive at least when it comes to football/soccer. The other is my aging body that while reasonably fit has done nothing of the explosive kind in so long I am worried about my fragile scar tissued hamstrings blowing. I’m also not sure how I will feel playing for fun but I figure it will be a good litmus test of identity. The beautiful game brought out a bit of an ugly side of me long ago so perhaps I will allow myself to be reborn tomorrow. It’s a 10am kick off which in the old days would be like 6am, but will feel more like 3pm now, so at least I will be awake. I’ve dug out my boots, I did upgrade about 10 years ago for coaching so at least they are from this century!

Maybe I just need to remember why I started playing in the first place and why I fell in love with the game. It’s a team sport, it requires multiple skills and ways to use your body. It’s simple and you cannot hide behind your gear or equipment, if you make a mistake, you do everything you can to fix it yourself. The ball doesn’t pick sides, both teams are using the same ball.

If there is one other memory I hope stays the same then I hope it will be that the bar will be open after and asparagus rolls at the after match function. Stay tuned for the over exaggerated post match blog full of colourful hyperbole.

Sticks and stones and a pile of dirt

Standing on the river bank watching the inky black pool break and run free. I throw a stick in and the child with me throws one in as well. We watch them float down then spin out of the current. A perplexed look crosses her face, a wondering and an opportunity to play and learn – current affairs. We throw more sticks and observe them, describing what is happening nothing more. An urge to up the stakes and race, but what to do when that pesky eddy throws a reverse current into the mix. Stones enter the picture, there are plenty to choose from. But where to throw? How big? More experimentation and my young apprentice catches on quick. Making waves and calmly enjoying the rush of success. Wet feet and cold hands our reward and some hydrology terminology experienced.

Later a mountain of dirt in a field and some tame ducks with a dog who’s instinct to herd everything boarders on OCD. Two of them scramble up negotiating feathered and furry friends. Clumps of soil are picked up and hurled backwards and forwards like snow balls. Shouts and protests make way for tentative rules with animals being completely off limits. The sods are flying and the faces smiling as they quickly weigh up the line between dusting yourself off and mud in your eye. No-one is crying and the ducks seek shelter behind the scrambling legs and flailing arms. The dog is relentless. Friendships blossoming between all creatures. It’s messy and chaotic, perfect.

Gumboots discarded, they just fill up and slow you down another lesson in mass and inertia. Running free and feeling the earth beneath feet. Resting finally in a drain to pick watercress. This is how I remember learning and how I always wanted to teach.

It’s life gym…

“but not as we know it” if you couldn’t help saying it then you will likely “live long and prosper”. I can’t imagine living inside a giant tin-can in space, although I spent an hour inside a smaller tin-can this week watching kids doing gymnastics. Parking my bike outside after a bit of a squally ride – wind rain cold, a perfect Auckland day I wandered upstairs as parents were barred from the floor to a curious picture of contrasts. Downstairs, a hive of bodies moving and exploring apparatus. Waiting their turn, sharing space, encouraging and supporting each other. All ages mingling and united in their enthusiasm and determination to master skills. Upstairs other children sitting around using apps, isolated from each other, age segregating them as younger children tried to explore the space but were met with annoyed looks and dismissive gestures. A clear sense of territory and personal space emerged. I picked my way through gingerly trying not to break the concentration of those staring into screens to look into the den of activity and caught myself thinking ‘I want to be down there’. Under one roof a simple line had been drawn around play and while the wind howled and the heavens opened, inside all were happy doing their thing.

Riding home in the driving rain passed by tin-cans on wheels I felt the pounding of my heart, the drenching of skin all my senses working together to adapt to the elements. Laughing at the ridiculousness and enjoying the sensation of complete and utter saturation that those in tin-cans will never know. It was life gym and I am glad to know it.

We didn’t start the fire – but the sparks are pretty

Any Billy Joel fan will recognise that line, but don’t be lead astray by that. I’m probably one of thousands with an opinion about fireworks. It’s hard to contribute to a topic already bursting with combustible hot air. People are red faced enough at either end of the spectrum to warrant their own brand of rocket, spinning like Catherine wheels if someone dares to express and alternative.

We seem a country hung up on traditions, claiming them, creating them, changing them but throw in the possibility of legislation stepping in and you had better stand back coz that wick is pretty short. There is a funny sort of categorisation of appropriateness when it comes to socially sanctioned celebrations. Religious holidays always have that edge of ‘but do you know why’ and I understand that as acknowledging that some traditions have particular origins. But generally, we don’t seem to care if easter eggs are sold early or after easter, there is no ‘chocolate police’. On Valentine’s Day the Emergency Department isn’t full of broken hearts needing restarting, or burns from scorned lovers. Christmas and Halloween now bracket Guy Fawkes in New Zealand and our cultural calendar of events with varying degrees of acceptance, so it seems we are stuck with if you can’t beat them join in or start a petition.

I do get the safety aspect around letting off fireworks and I’m not all that fond of loud noises – so I’m not exactly ‘woohoo’ about sky rockets, but I do like a good bonfire. People sometimes think that explaining the origins of celebrations helps give more meaning and value to an experience…like that worked for Halloween yeah right.

If you are out there tonight setting large amounts of cash on fire, enjoy it, be safe. The fire brigade will be run off their feet and they will not want to hear ‘we didn’t start the fire’ as you are ‘burning down the house’…cue Talking Heads or The Prodigy – firestarter.

Lego of me

Plastic is an environmental disaster – unless it is in the form of Lego. My love for brightly coloured bricks began in the 70’s, but Lego has been around since the late 1940’s. Lego has stuck around since then and instead of being pushed aside with technology, has grown in popularity with the digital age adding to its cultural mystique.

Parents might have a different view – particularly if building kit sets with instruction manuals the size of telephone books. Thousands of tiny bits of plastic mathematically also work out to a large surface area of mess and potential soft tissue injury, anyone who has knelt on a piece of Lego will know what I mean.

When I visit my parents I still get a kick out of getting out my old Lego. It really is different to the new stuff. The people were featureless and genderless. Back then the neutrality and ambiguity of Lego wasn’t anything intentional but looking back – especially with ‘overtly gendered’ generation of toys (including new kits), it seems revolutionary and forward thinking. Others have already commented extensively on this change including the facial expressions of Lego people, but I don’t think we need to be panicking about the psychological damage, even the angriest Lego faces are kind of funny looking.

For those of you who ‘don’t get the Lego thing’ and are even more baffled by those Adults who dive into it as much as children do let me share my experience – don’t worry – its not contagious.
When I sit down with a pile of bricks it is like the world disappears. All I am thinking about is what I am building. It’s this effect and the challenge of creating as many cars, planes and space ships with ever decreasing pieces that is satisfying and strangely rewarding perhaps best summed up in a statement like, ‘ha! see – I made the millennium falcon out of just 15 pieces – I don’t need the 800 piece kit!’

But its ok if you still don’t get it. Lego has transcended itself, it is no longer inanimate – IT LIVES. Yes thanks to stop motion camera work Lego has made it to moving pictures. Things are funnier when done with Lego, even those who are already funny such as comedians can have their work lifted to another dimension with plastic bricks and people. Probably better to give an example:

And there is of course The Lego Movie! I have just one warning about this movie, the theme song will get stuck in your head and one word will be the trigger for full replay whenever you hear it. I’ll let Batman convince you its ‘awesome.’

There are so many reasons to love Lego, except when you get bits stuck together and you really need that one piece then it is all out frustration and broken nails. That aside, the simplicity of Lego is it’s success. I think it has its own wisdom so I’m going to have a crack at writing my own Tao of Lego – not being an expert in Taoism I realise this might be considered an act of hubris rather than humility. So I will tread lightly and hope the essence comes through.

1: Each block has a purpose a place everything fits
2: There are as many ways to build a space ship as there are blocks
3: The best way to build is without the instruction manual, it limits the natural expression of creativity
4: If you desire the perfect end product at least enjoy the process as much as the end result
5: Let go the need for comparing your space ship to others – they are all cool
6: The perfect state of Lego is broken, building moves away from the natural state – small children are masters of returning Lego to this
7: Don’t look for the right piece – reach into the pile and allow the piece to find you
8: It is what it is – whatever it is
9: We are all made of the same stuff – trees, people, spaceships
10: A thing of beauty does not need to be complex and detailed, there is wonder in a single geometric shape joined with one other.

Piece be with you all.