Monday 31 December 2007

Happy New Year 2008!!!

Last New Year's Eve, I had the extreme pleasure of being on a boat with new friends from England's Barmy Army. In Sydney Harbour, under the fireworks, I was amongst the first in the world to bring in 2007. So, from my heart to yours, please enjoy some fireworks to start 2008 off with a BANG!!!

Sunday 30 December 2007

New Year's Resolution #1

1. I resolve to mail out all the stuff I should have in 2007.

Specifically...
a) one digereedo I bought in Australia for an Army friend I worked with in Afghanistan. I'm sure he's given up on it. I have his address, that's not it. I work for the Post Office, but have to go to another facility to mail things. I carried this four foot long thing all the way home, checked it through the fragile baggage sections (with skiis and stuff), and lugged it home. Next Monday... for sure.
b) one shot glass from Mexico for a mate on PalTalk in Indiana. Same excuse as a).
c) one ginger and blue fright wig for my mate who will wear it to the Cricket in New Zealand.
d) my 2007 Christmas cards... will date for 2008, so just think of them as very, very early.

sheesh!!

Monday 24 December 2007

Christmas 2006

One year ago, today, I was a guest at the Guest House, in Melbourne Australia. I didn't know any of this wonderful family before I got to Melbourne, so here is the story...

I was in Australia to catch the last three test of the 2006 Ashes, Perth, Melbourne and Sydney. My travelling companion (Steve) and I both support Portsmouth FC, and he was a member of a message board for the Aussie Pompey supporters called Pompey Down Under. A great deal of banter goes on on these message boards, and personalities emerge.

Well... one day in the chat room on PalTalk in which we listen to the live feed of the Pompey matches, one of the aussie's who had read about Steve going for all five Tests (and 8 weeks in OZ) asked him what he was doing for Christmas?

As the Cricket didn't start until Boxing Day... he told this mate (also called Steve) that he's be at the BBQ at the park with the Barmy Army (see more about them later) playing a friendly 20/20 (or something, close enough). Steve the Aussie told him, "No, you're not. You are coming to our home for Christmas barbie. We're cooking Skippy." riiiiiiight...

At this point, my Steve told aussie Steve that he wouldn't be alone. "No worries, Mate the more the merrier!!" Nice one!

We arrived in Melbourne, and as we had a week off before Christmas, decided we'd better meet these crazy people who were inviting complete strangers to their home for Christmas dinner! We arranged to meet after their working hours at the Young & Jackson's pub near the main trains station, and for some reason, we knew them right away. Maybe it was the pile of shopping bags which Fiona had just acquired while shopping. Maybe it was the shaved head of Steve (#1). I think it was the arms full of tattoos, along with the rest, which helped us pick them out of the crowd,

After talking for at least an hour, during which time we knew we'd get along famously, we discovered that the couple sitting next to us, eavesdropping, were also from Portsmouth. Well, he was, she was from Oxfordshire somewhere. In fact, he said his father played for Pompey in the 60's. What a small world!! They joined us in the pub, and the next thing we knew, Fiona and Steve were inviting THEM to dinner too!! They were just wandering around OZ escaping the English winter weather, so they accepted! Oh, and Fiona told all of us to bring our swimming gear, as they had an in-ground pool! What fun!!

We exchanged mobile numbers, and arranged a time for all of the adoptees to meet at the train station under the clock as they lived in Mentone, about 40 minutes by train from Melbourne.

Five days later, as the weather was getting colder and colder, we caught the bus to take us to the train station. Brrrrrrrrrrrr, it was cold... in fact, I'm pretty sure it was the Christmas Day in Melbourne history (or the last 50 year). We were bundled up in our warmest clothes (remember, it's December, and this is supposed to be SUMMER... hellooooooooo!!)

Everyone was at the train station at the right time, including a workmate of Fiona's and her hubby. I'd brought presents for Fiona and Bella, who was almost 5). We'd also picked out some wine the day before to contribute to the feast.

Even though we didn't get to go swimming that day, and we had to keep the patio sliding doors closed to keep the heat in, we still had an authentic Australian barbie for Christmas dinner, complete with beef, chicken and kangaroo. I don't know how Steve marinated that roo, but it was delicious!!!

What a wonderful day to remember with new friends who have become old friends, as well as strangers who are no longer strangers. When Fiona Guest opens her home to friends new and old, it is truely the "Guest House".

Saturday 22 December 2007

Wow I'm almost famous!

This whole twitter thing is great! I really like it better than any of the other "social networks" out there because it allows Twitterers a chance to spontaneously interact with friends all over the world.

I started Twittering after hearing about it from several of the podcasters to whom I listen on a regular basis... and I signed up. I am Tiggr on Twitter, just as I am on PalTalk and the Pompey Till I Die message board, and sheesh, most who know me online as Tiggr end up calling me that or Tiggs in person too :)

I got my second (yes! second!) mention on the PodcastPaul show yesterday, and I'm chuffed, thrilled and downright humbled. Since I have his feedburner embedded, you should be listening to it right now! (Show 167 the Christmas Show).

Just about at the 16:00 mark, is my famous minute, and a half... and in response to Pauls query, here's a bit about me and why so many people think I'm an ex-pat.

I was born in the wrong country. Now, wait a minute, don't get me wrong. I love America. I bleed Red, White and Blue. I serve my country both domestically and overseas, but I feel a certain affinity with the Brits.

I'm sure it all started over 10 generations ago, when my ancesters were alive: The Breckenridges in Ayrshire, Scotland, the Stevens' in Stamford, Lincolnshire, England, the Johns in Pembrokeshire, Wales and the McMorrows in Ireland. My mother's parents spent over 50 years tracing our geneology and trust me, I'm so Anglo-Saxton, I had ancestors fighting on both sides of the American Revolution. That would be the War of Colonial Insurrection if you were on the losing side (joke, really!).

Add to this that my first step-mother was from Kent (Kidbrooke and Sidcup to be exact) and so my pre-teen and teen years were enhances by her British wit and copious relations. I learned to love british comedy and drama through her, and grew up watching Masterpiece Theatre, especially Upstairs Downstairs. We even woke up very very early one morning to watch Princess Anne's wedding to Captain Mark Phillips live. Being on the west coast, it must have been 3 am, sheesh.

OK, this is a really complicated amalgam of bits and pieces of my life... but to add to the formula, I joined a UK chat room on PalTalk back in 2002, in anticipation of a trip to the UK in 2003. I figured a 30 year anniversary revisit was in order, and I wanted to meet some Brits to get an idea of where I wanted to go and what to do. The first time I was there I was 16, and that's a whole nother story...

...so, I met some great friends in the UK in the United Kingdom and Friends chatroom, hosted by my dear friend Paul (in Hull, as opposed to the Paul in London or Birmingham, lol) who has since been my host the three time I've been over in the past 5 years.

Well, Uncle Sam has a twisted sense of humour, and instead of my vacations trip to the UK, he recalled my Navy unit and me to active duty and sent us to a British island, yes... but in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Diego Garcia is not England. Fact. However, there was a handful of Brits, and they became some of my best friends while there. Most weekends (ok, all weekends) I could be found in the Brit Pub, near the wretches corner, sometimes as official timekeepper for the "Drink a Yard and try not to Puke" contest. I still correspond with the Regimental Sergeant Major (now retired) and a Chief Petty Officer from that deployment.

Diego Garcia is a blog in it's own right.

okokokok... too long... too detailed... you might get the picture. More in another blog.

So, I add extraneous "U's" to words like colour, humour etc, support the Portsmouth Football Club (another entire story) and feel the tug from across the pond to return.

The moral of this story is... if you want mates with a great sense of humour, who can have fun watching strange sports like cricket, in pubs with names like The Flying Handbag (Blackpool), sing Sweet Caroline over and over till you think you are Caroline, hang out with the Brits. They will never let you down. Fact.

oh yeah, and...
PLAY UP POMPEY, POMPEY PLAY UP!!!

Wow!! What a singer!

If you haven't ever seen this talented young lady, watch her in the finals of Britain's Got Talent. She'll blow you away with her dead-on pitch and six year old innocence.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjeNS4eLghc This is a Christmas video in which she sings "I Will Always Love You" (oh and the video isn't bad either!

Tuesday 11 December 2007

Wierd

Sitting in the Denver airport, looking outside at the snow, and hearing birds chirping... ok, I see the bird now, and it's looking a bit lost. Birds inside buildings flying free always make me smile, as you know they eat gourmet food in here, and don't have to contend with the snow outside

Sunday 2 December 2007

Rick Reilly is Quitting SI, or... who will I bathe with now???

Every Friday or Saturday, my son's copy of Sports Illustrated slides through the mail slot, straight into the basket in my front closet. Usually I just toss it on my coffee table and hope Chris finds it, or if I'm so inclined, I'll walk the 15 feet down the hall and toss it on his bed where he'll be sure to find it. I always give him first crack at it, because I know I'll have my chance soon enough.

Eventually, the latest issue ends up in the bathroom. This is not a condemnation of the contents, rather it illustrates the reverence given by Chris, as it shows he is reading it as soon as it arrives. This is where I find it and get to read it in the bathtub. I stand corrected... this is where I used to find it, as I won't be looking for the latest issue for quite the same reason anymore.

I read Rick Reilly. Well, his column anyway. You can easily find it because it is the last page of each issue of Sports Illustrated. No more. After 23 years writing for SI, Rick Reilly is going on to bigger and better (?) things. Big deal, you say? Very big.

Over the last 23 years, Reilly's column has been the first page millions of people have turned to first (my estimate only, at least I'm convinced it has to be millions, maybe billions even!). Quick, easy-to-read articles that highlight a point of light in sports that the average person may not know about if not for Rick Reilly. From uber-parents planning their infants high-school sports programs to how a particular Pro Basketball player would be "coach and captain" of the "team of the most selfish, greedy, spoiled to the Spleen, Multimillionaire Athletes you'd Most Like to See Thrown to a Dieting Lion", Rick's (if I may be so bold) column has made people laugh, cry, write hate mail to him, but everytime... to think.

I've been trying to catch up on some of his essays by reading his book Hate Mail From Cheerleaders (and Other Adventures From the Life of Reilly) which I bought for my son at his request. Best money on a book I've spent in a long time. It's not his only book. Check them out, you don't have to be a sports fanatic, you just need to be interested in humanity, good, bad or indifferent.

Rick's column in the December 3, 2007 issue of SI is a farewell to his readers. He's taking six months off before starting a column for ESPN the Magazine, as well as ESPN.COM beginning in June of 2008. I wish him the best of luck. Somehow I have a feeling that a new magazine will be slipping through my mailslot sometime around late spring of next year.

Oh, yeah... and Mr. Reilly... have you ever thought of a podcast??? Just a thought.

Thank you, Rick Reilly.