Ch. 60 Plastic Bets

25/4/18

Australia is more than shrimps on the barbie. Even though it’s a relatively young country, the traditions I was able to experience were the tops mate. Case and point: Anzac Day.

ANZAC stands for Australia New Zealand Army Corps and it’s a single day that combines holidays like the 4th of July with Veterans Day and Memorial Day but add more drinking and gambling.

That last part is particularly important because it’s hands down the best part about Anzac Day. In the trenches, the ANZAC soldiers played a game called two-up. Essentially two (sometimes three) coins get tossed in the air and fall within a circle on the ground, you bet if it’s going be majority heads or majority tails up. 50/50 shot at winning big, why wouldn’t you bet?

Image of the original players courtesy of Pickle.

The Australian government allows gambling across the country in any establishment public or private on Anzac Day to honor some lively two-up. And mate, Aussies get more than just lively. They get downright giddy.

If you’ve ever skinny dipped, you may recall the gleeful smiles pasted across the faces of your fellow dippers. A collision of happiness and sin that looks like you’ve just gotten away with murder, and you’re stoked about it. Well that face is worn by everybody in a crowd of twoup, starting at 9am and going until dark.

To bet you can choose heads by taking your betting amount and touching your head with it, raising and lowering the cash for a challenger to see. The challenger takes tails and hands you their money, which you keep until the game has been played and your boxer (emcee) has called it. Winner takes the cash, rinse repeat. There’s a high roller style that happens at the center, but most go for 1:1 bets.

It was momentarily astounding that no fights* broke out and no money was stolen among strangers freely handing cash back and forth, but once you’re there you realize it’s like honor amongst thieves, they’re getting this no-rules day, why ruin a good time?

An American Ranga bets with the true blues. Circa 25 April, 2017

The one Anzac Day I was lucky enough to experience was rainy, but that didn’t matter. The rain really didn’t matter because Aussie dollars are plastic, virtually impossible to break or soak by hand or water.

It also didn’t matter because everyone was on the piss (‘Strayan for drunk).

I lost a fair bit of money that day, but some other person came up – that’s the beauty of the 50/50 chances on Anzac Day. Cheers mate.

*I didn’t see any fights but evidently it happens on occasion.

Ch. 59 Dynasty Dogs

3/21/3018

Papaya VII is absolutely the best yet. Papaya’s I-VI didn’t have the anti-slobber implant. I mean come on, every time you make her sit and stay for meals she practically ruined the Persian rug and the saliva was getting worse with each model. VII not only doesn’t slobber but she’s getting pretty good at distinguishing between family and foe.

I’ll admit that Papaya I, the original, never had this issue, but cloning has its downsides and Great Grandpa Hansen didn’t want to lose her. Back then it was experimental, but we were one of the first families to clone our dying dog, along with Barbra Streisand. We’re digital pioneers, it’s in our blood and clearly in Papaya’s.

Out of all seven, Papaya II had the most defects. Not only did she suffer from unusually acute amnesia for a dog, she had the worst farts by far. Great Grandpa described it as a rotten salmon that’d been left under the net of a fishing boat all summer, festering with the heat, weight, and salty effervescence of the net. We still don’t know where the fish essence comes from. That unique scent makes it harder to blame it on the dog when needed.

Versions III-V were a steady progression, each version improving on the previous until Papaya the First became obsolete. Who wants to be the first of their kind anyway? The seventh iteration is always the best. Remember iPhones? Ya, me neither, but I have it on good authority they hit their stride at seven.

Plus there are bonus features, like pillow mode for example. Twist her left ear thrice and no matter how riled up she is, Papaya will lay under your head in calm obedience and become the warmest undulating pillow you’ve ever experienced. Since that feature came in however, she’s learned to drop farts if it’s not her preferred mode.

Not to mention there hasn’t been a feline homicide by a dynasty dog since 2044. “Survival of the fittest” Grandpa would say. Admittedly it’s less a factor of the dogs losing their killer instinct and more due to the improvements in feline breeding. Ever since they injected pure jaguar back to the gene pool those little furballs are much harder to catch unawares.

The original Papaya in her element

The only real problem I have with dynasty dogs is the stare. It’s hard to find any shred of a soul in those eyes. They just can’t make meaningful eye contact like the originals, it’s like their looking through you, to their past founder’s lives, longing for the fleeting feeling of mortality, trapped in a never-ending cycle of toxic farts and drool.

Papaya V was such a happy version...

What am I saying? They love it, don’t you Papaya—OH GOD that’s rancid. There she goes again, better snag some more Trump Candles at the store, those things can cover up all manner of fishy business.

Ch. 58 The Life and Times of Karen

3/15/18

Before the light broke, Karen was up. Rumbling about in preparation for another long day. Sunrise to sunset, and often after dark, Karen never missed a day on the job. Not in 57 years.

She stretched and rolled side to side, front to back, hearing cracks and grinds as the motion wore her better parts down to the inevitable dust they’d become. She was never much for the creams or lotions, those only made it worse in Karen’s experience.

Hobbling out of her nook, Karen marveled at her walkway, it was smooth and worn down from decades of repetition. Maybe she’d fix it up one day, put new stones in. Maybe.

She arrived at work not a moment too soon. Her coworkers were already in position and the sun began to bleed over the horizon, shedding beautiful orange light over the steeples of rock above her post. She was completely bathed in its warmth by the time their first customers came through. Late for this time of year.

“Over there! Karennnnn!” the first hiker exclaimed.

The three others in tow hooted and whooped as they trundled and scraped their way towards Karen. They were fresh in the legs and didn’t come close to knocking her over, which was a blessed thing as 57 years was third best in Blank National Park.

“Oh cool, look, there’s the next Karen” said another hiker, as they all headed in the direction of Karen’s neighbor, Karen.

An excerpt from Karen: The Stone Trailhead documenting the life and times of a Cairn in Blank National Park, guiding hikers along trails of stone for miles on end without use of man-made signage.

There's Karen

Ch. 57 Blank National Park

3/8/18

I just went camping somewhere and it blew my mind. The best part was the lack of crowds so I’ve edited the location to preserve its identity.

We were camping and hiking in blank and I honestly have never seen such amazing blanks. Around every corner was a new blank. We ended each day severely low on dopamine due to the wonders that lay around each bend in the trail.

We camped at blank which is great this time of year because we literally didn’t run into anybody on the entire blank trail. The blank trail had a few more but man, talk about a cool hike through the blanks!

Every ranger we talked to had trouble reccommending one hike, “I mean you could do blank, or blank, or even blank because honestly man, they’re all my favorite. Every hike here in blank always blows my mind.”

One evening we climbed up on blank and watched the sunlight spill onto the blanks of blank and were fully transported from all our material lives back in the city. It was an escape of pure bliss.

Being back in civilization I am stunted by all the right angles and manmade materials, it really sucks the creativity of nature out of the everyday. All the same, the floor needs sweeping and the camping gear needs cleaning and the litter box is overflowing so I’d better get to it.

If you’re ever in the blank area and have a few days, I can’t recommend blank enough. That place is unreal.

This picture is a red herring, but feel free to try and exact the location if you're so inclined.

Ch. 56 Confessions of a Crap Surfer

1/24/18

I love being a shitty surfer.

Surfing has a great levelling effect. It balances expectation with effort. If you expect a great surf, you have to put in more effort to catch the right waves and be in position; without that effort, your expectations won’t be met.

Luckily for me, my expectations are low. If I can catch one solid ride and make a satisfying turn on it, I’m sweet for two weeks. It’s all gravy from there and I spend the remainder of those weeks replaying that turn in my head, slow motion glory, I have the top play in my very own Sportscenter.

The happy-go-lucky mindset is a great one, but that all changed when I went on my first dedicated Surf Safari. The Mentawais Islands in Indonesia.

In retrospect, I probably should have eased my way to Surf Mecca with some easier trips, stamped a couple other reef breaks on my surfari resume, but the opportunity presented itself and I had a looming departure on the horizon. I was scheduled to leave Australia at Christmas, so the bucket list became a priority.

Our first break in the Mentawais was a place called Hollow Trees, and it turned out to be the most dangerous place we’d surf the entire trip. It tapered off in size throughout the day and after a couple shaky rights and some coral bites I finally found my feet. After that the other spots we surfed were a dream. Perfect lefts breaking from the same spot.

Aside from the water temperature, exquisite marine life, and private boat access to the lineup, there was one major difference from surfing in Sydney. Everyone was basically pro. These were lifelong surfers who had talent and fitness to boot, and they were either returning Mentawai veterans or had been training for this trip for a long time. I was neither.

Like most sports, surrounding yourself with superior athletes is a great way to get better fast. So that’s what I did, struggling to keep up every day was like high altitude training. I’ll show you some pictures of yours truly and spare you pictures of my boatmates, I’d hate for you to get too much perspective on the skill gap.

After sliding on factory-made waves in Indonesia 3 times a day for 10 days straight, the return to Sydney was stark. It was like coming back to work after a festival weekend. You clock in despondently each day thinking “is this the life I signed up for?”

I had lost my any-wave-sunshine attitude and replaced it with an expectant Indo-high-horse perspective.

Eventually the treadmill that is life evened me out and I began appreciating sunny knee-high days once again. The month before I left Australia for good there were some really fun swells just outside my bedroom window and I spent every opportunity in the water. Any time I lowered my head, salt water would stream from my nose like a sea-fountain. If you know the feeling, good on you.

It’s been a month since I moved from the beachside life and I cannot stress enough, if you live in reach of an ocean, go for a surf, and if you are offered a spot on a surfari, take it, and invite me too.

Ch. 54 Japan is in the Details

2/23/17

For most people it’s the food. Think about those rare times you’ve shelled out some real monies for insanely good sushi. You can get that caliber at 7-11 in Japan and it only gets better from there. Tempura fit for gods and gyoza like you’ve never had it. Every restaurant offers “party platters” that deliver the amounts you’ve always dreamed of ordering but never had the opportunity. It’s enough to make the trip. But it wasn’t the food.

That's a party platter.

For others it’s the people. So nice they make Australians seem standoffish. Everyone in Japan has a smile with genuine happiness behind it – smiles like these are so pure that it makes you want to leave social media and never look back, for these are real smiles. Japanese also posses a remarkable quality that combines pride and an utter willingness to drop everything to assist foreigners in their quest for Tepanyaki, or Ramen, or gyoza (gyoza my god the gyoza). Though we experienced unbridled kindness from all walks of life, that wasn’t what did it for me.

That's 90 pieces of fresh Gyoza.

What got me to buy tickets was the powder – that should be enough for anybody living in a sunburnt country. It was so light and plentiful that there were days when you didn’t actually shred or rip, it was just float from the top of the mountain to the bottom, as if on the back of Totoro himself. I’m tempted to say it was the powder for me but alas, a constant barrage of giant flakes dumping and first tracks each morning still was not it.

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That's what the powder looked like on a mediocre day.

Some like to praise the culture and I get that. It’s old and deep and has achieved such a beautiful harmony with the modern world that you can’t help but soak it in. The amount of unique heritage in such a small geographic footprint relative to the world makes an insatiably intriguing environment. This gets closer to why Japan is now top on my list but it’s too broad.

That's the Imperial Palace in the heart of Tokyo.

It’s the details that have me frothing, drooling, literally pining to return. There is a relentless drive for perfection in Japanese innovation that gets to life’s nitty gritty problems and fixes them. It’s as if their first emperor said “we have the tools, let’s fix it, all of it, that’ll be our thing you guys.”

And fix it they did.

Let me tell you about their heated toilet seats. Japan has recognized the most intimate of problems and taken the initiative to solve it. After some very light and shaky internet research, I have Hiroshi Nishinaka to thank for elevating what is beyond a doubt, the most important part of every day.

This weighs the complexity of the Darth Vader robot toilet which at times introduces an overly mechanic element to what should be mostly organic and maintains the much needed balance of design and ultimate utility. I experienced these when sitting in China and couldn’t shake the feeling that capitalism had come to join me though I didn’t extend an invite. Fans and beeps followed by jets and even fake water noises put me on edge when I should have been centered. I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to be greeted by the silent work of a quaint electrical cord that made sure I had a comfortable landing to do my business every time. It was remarkable.

This is but one of infinite details Japanese innovation has solved for, and I spent every moment appreciating all my experiences because someone like Hiroshi had thought them out so thoroughly, there was no option but to smile with genuine happiness.

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Ch. 51 Auditory Cocaine

9/23/15

I’m hopelessly addicted to stories. Most of you can agree that a good story is worth hearing. Some find their favorites in the form of gossip, maybe even reality TV, but I prefer the purity that is podcasts. One just needs to listen. You can be driving from A to B and simultaneously be transported into a series of spellbinding tales made by the world’s most talented storytellers.

Podcasters have been around for longer than you think, and in that time they’ve really honed their craft. Whether you’re interested or not, I’ve decided to give a list of recommendations because music can get old and I’ve found extreme satisfaction through Podcasts lately. These things are gold when you're traveling or commuting or both. I used them while packed in the Metro under Shanghai, or thousands of miles over the Pacific flying to Australia in a tin can, and I especially tune in when I make the constant drive from Portland to Seattle.

As you go through these, keep an open mind and I sincerely hope you get the same level of satisfaction that I did by listening. These podcasts help me turn my mood when times are tough, they can also elevate an inquisitive mind, expand on existing ideas, and introduce new ones. Happy listening!

This American Life

If I can only recommend one podcast, this is it. This show is a compilation of stories on each week’s theme hosted by Ira Glass. The theme changes every week and it touches on very relatable stuff, from road trips to racial tension. Some shows are hilarious, some can be intense and challenge your perspective. The staff on this show is so talented that they made Serial as a spinoff of this show—the most well known podcast ever was literally a side project to this one.

Snap Judgment

This used to be my favorite, branded as “Storytelling with a beat,” the MC puts together tasty tunes to intro each story. If you’re on the fence about it at all, listen to a recent episode called Legendary. The first story in that episode is about Yellowstone’s most popular wolf – if you don’t enjoy it, then you’re kind of dead to me.

Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me

This one started it all. An NPR radio show that I grew up listening to on Sunday morning’s following Click and Clack, thanks to my Dad. Perfect for any dork who enjoys a good pun and can stand a panel of chirpy comedians while the host, Peter Sagal, takes a live audience through a news quiz. The best part of this show is that each episode has a celebrity guest who is interviewed and then asked a series of ridiculous questions that have nothing to do with their profession. Guests of the past include President Clinton, George Clinton, Chance the Rapper, Dave Barry, Alice Cooper, Tina Fey, etc. the list goes on. This podcast is great for Monday mornings…or any morning for that matter, their energy will bring you to a humorous sweet spot that makes any monotonous job bearable.

Fresh Air

You’ve all heard Terry Gross’ voice at some point in your life, it’s soothing, intellectual, and most often mirrored by another timely voice that she’s interviewing. Her guests span the media from forward thinkers to famous actors and directors. If you’re jonezin for some instant interest, Fresh Air has a treasure trove of notable guests to sift through.

WTF

Marc Maron is a generally surly comedian who found that he can really connect with people one on one. He interviews his guests in his garage – mostly comedians but once in a while he’ll branch out. Obama boosted his rep significantly by visiting his garage a few months ago and his guest list has only gotten better since. One thing he does that I’ve yet to see in other interviewers thus far is that he gets down to a level of understanding with his guests where it becomes nothing more than a freewheeling conversation about life. If you fancy yourself a creative, this podcast is a must. I’ve never finished one of his episodes feeling as if I didn’t get to know the guest on a personal level. He even interviewed Terry Gross – the things you’ll find out about her in said episode, you can never un-hear (hint: it will shake whatever preconceived notion you had of Terry).

Radiolab

These guys are classic. They follow what interests them and have a team of great producers to do so. Sometimes they delve into science, other times culture. Not much more can be said because every show is different. Sample their Football episode that came out at Thanksgiving last year. It made me feel not only patriotic but actually proud of America for inventing football – the latter has never happened in my book.

Others worth noting: 

Serial – if you’re new to Podcasts it’s worth starting here – the Netflix of Podcasts in regards to addictive quality. Only one season out thus far.

Strangers – if you can live with the host’s voice then you’ll enjoy this. More emotional than most but worth the while.

Invisibilia – intriguing but not much available from this as of late.

TED Radio Hour – same as TED talks but in pure audio formats and mixed per topic not per speech.

Here's a handy how-to for anybody who isn't sure what the purple app on their iPhone actually does - hint: it plays Podcasts.

There's no applicable visual for Podcasts but the make me happy, so here's some two tone glee.