Skip to main content

And You're Back in the Room


Hi Zeitgeisters,

I am a lazy person.

How lazy are you Mr Trivia?

I can’t be bothered buying furniture, whitegoods, cutlery or crockery so I rent a furnished and fitted apartment in South Perth.

Okay, not a snappy punchline. Not even funny, but it’s true. I had to move to my present address because my last place (approximately three blocks West from here) was sold. My former landlord had another place for the same rent and he became my current landlord.

Last night I was tidying up and I realised that I have one of those “spatula-shaped” cheese slicers. Y’know, you run it over the surface of the cheese and a perfect slice curls off the top. Maybe it’s a butter curler or it could be an ice cream shaver. Whatever it is, I got one. I also have a jug for fruit juice and about twice the ice cube trays I thought I had.

So like some dork, I have discovered a whole new Narnia Universe of utensils and vessels at the backs of cupboards and drawers, even though I’ve lived here now for nearly seven weeks.

Lazy, like I said. And also unobservant. (And a Capricorn, too, if that’s sounds good. Although my single status is legal rather than actual. I don ‘t live with my partner Miss Pink, but I’ll open up that can of Spam in a later blog.)

The unobservant thing has plagued me all my life. When I was a boy scout in the ‘80s we used to play this observation game that the Boy Scouts’ founder, Sir Robert Baden-Powel, went on about in his ground-breaking tome, Scouting for Boys.

It’s called Kim’s Game and it’s named after a Rudyard Kipling character called Disco Murray (kidding.) The game works this way. You arrange a dozen or so small items on a tray. You get the players to concentrate on the tray for about thirty seconds. Then you cover the tray and get the players to write down what the objects are. The brain tends to remember about five things easily. So most people only remember ten or so of the items.

That probably makes the 1980s sound a little dull for you younger readers. Perhaps if I explain that this usually happened to a blasting soundtrack that included New Order, Flock of Seagulls and Cheap Trick, then it might seem more fun.

I was only average at Disco Murray’s Game. And the older I get, the less observant I become. In my mid- 20s I went to a therapist for about two and a half years. One day near the end of a session I noticed a beautiful floor to ceiling bookcase at the back of his office. I asked him when he had it put in. He said it had always been there for as long as I had been seeing him. “So you’re finally really here in the room,” he said in that inscrutable way psychologists have.

He had a point. I was always in my own bubble when I went in there. Psychologists tend to cost a lot, so you tend to load up on exciting neuroses and “me” tidbits before a session to make sure you get your money’s worth. We had nearly come to the end of all our sessions and so I was more free to take in my surroundings.

Of course, Jeff (who is no longer with us), might have been taking the piss. Maybe the bookcase was put in three days before I asked my question. Too late to find out now. I remember when he died, I had a definite sense of, “So who am I going to tell stuff to?” Charmingly, my first thought was for myself.

It’s still a problem. Where is there for me to ramble on about inconsequential stuff that happens? I need somewhere that I can show photographs of my former apartment with its truly awful fruit-salad curtain that no furniture could be matched to. It’s a tough one. I’ll have to mull it over.

Elevate the Insignificant

Mr Trivia

Comments

itchyshoes said…
Heheh.. Indeed very amusing, the bookcase story.... I can totally relate to the 'loading up on neuroses' thing.. That must piss them off immensely, but as you say it's quite expensive to have 'dead air' in a therapy session.
MrsMoz said…
But Mr Trivia, that is what your blog is for. Pour it all out into your blog.

Popular posts from this blog

What's with George Eads' Hair?

DailyCeleb.com & David Edwards


Hey Zeitgeisters,

Bet you thought this blog would never top “What’s with Bradley Whitford’s Hair?” For those of you who weren’t part of that historical blog entry, it was the glittering moment where I wondered what’s with West Wing star Bradley Whitford’s hair. Good times.

However, tonight, while watching the current series (in Australia) of CSI :Original Recipe, I was forced to witness the unpleasantness of George Eads’ new(ish) 'do and I felt compelled to blog on’t.

George plays the part of Nick Stokes and has spent some 5 or 6 seasons with a haircut “you could set your watch to,” as Grandpa Simpson might say. It was always short; it always had that US Marine Corps vibe; it was always as dependable as the ebbing and flowing of the tides.

Now in something of an El Nino effect, I note that someone in Jerry Bruckheimer’s organization has decided to mess with the length of George’s crowning glory.

Although I chiefly watch CSI waiting for Grissom…

What’s with Bradley Whitford’s Hair?

Okay, Zeitgeisters, that’s as shallow an attention-grabbing start as one could ever want, but I really want to know. And sure, I’m really talking about Josh Lyman’s hair. (I’m like one of those people who insist on calling an actor by their character’s name – only in reverse. e.g. “Go Knight Boat!”)

Whitford plays Deputy Chief of Staff, Josh Lyman, in the Aaron Sorkin-created, NBC television series The West Wing. He plays this part to a tee and now he’s set to do great things in the new Sorkin drama, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. I know this last bit because the Angriest Ex-Video Store Clerk in the world told me.

Oh, and Whitford’s married to the awesome Jane Kaczmarek who plays mom, Lois, in the series Malcolm in the Middle. So Mr Whitford’s your regular pop-cultural icon and yardstick for excellence. We’re here in this, frankly, puzzling cultural landscape, because I’ve just finished watching season four of The West Wing on DVD. And Josh Lyman’s hair has bothered me throughout. It’s…

Institutional Memory

Note: If you’re here, you were connected with Perth’s Film and Television Institute at some point. The FTI in the form that we know it, is being wound up and some of its functions are being taken over by ScreenWest. This is my idiosyncratic tribute to the FTI as it was formerly.
I’m not someone who plans things. Depending on how well you know me, you might be saying “Amen to that” right about now. There was no plan to have anything to do with filmmaking when my friends and I entered our first efforts in the WA Film and Video Festival almost 35 years ago (forerunner of the WASAs). We made experimental films on Super 8 movie film; in-camera editing, falling down sand dunes, raw meat and tomato sauce representing the terrible effects of our filmic violence. Super-8 was the cheapest type of movie film. 8 millimetres in width. You could shoot two-and a-half to three-and-a-half minutes depending on your frames-per-second. We had no money, so shot “longer” at 18 fps. Our tiny epics, like “Mea…