Copyright 2004-2010 Martin Schwenke. All rights reserved.
We drove from Canberra to Sydney and back again today. I did 3 out of the 4 legs and found myself continually astounded by the number of bad drivers I encountered. It was very frustrating. Therefore, I'm going to give the world some driving tips.
However, first let me share a couple of things...
Now for the tips:
Right, now that you have some clues on driving, how about being less annoying next time?
Today was Father's Day. When Mel and Sebastian gave me a card and gifts this morning, I commented that I hadn't really thought about this Father's Day as being about me. For the past 7 months since Sebastian was born, life has been a mad scramble to try to get things done and get enough sleep. That doesn't seem to be what being a parent is about... or maybe it is?
The card included a failed attempt of ours to get Sebastian's handprint for another project. Mel cut it out and had managed to sketch it into an image of an elk. The gifts included some obligatory socks and undies, which Sebastian apparently insisted that Mel buy for me, and a beautiful photo book that I'll treasure forever.
On the day that Sebastian was born, 7 weeks early, I was terrified that we would lose him. Every time I went somewhere in the hospital I would drop by the NICU to make sure he was OK. His crib was visible from the doorway at the entrance to the NICU so I didn't even have to wash my hands and go right in to check on him - a quick glance from the doorway would reassure me. In the late afternoon I went home to feed the dogs and to organise a few things. In the evening I returned to the hospital and took a detour past the NICU on my way to see Mel. I stood in the doorway of the NICU and my heart hit the floor - Sebastian's crib was empty. However, the monitor above it was still doing all of the right things. I squinted to try and get a better view into the semi-darkness but the crib was still empty... and the monitor was still ticking away. I took a step forward to get a wider view and found that they had pushed Mel's bed up into the NICU. Mel was holding Sebastian for the first time and was smiling the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
Sometimes music is about the bits you don't play and the space that you leave, allowing the combination to sound much more impressive than any of the parts. Unless you're used to this you can be dissatisfied because all you can hear is your own limitations. In a similar way, sometimes a celebration is about putting together the pieces that you didn't realise were painting a bigger picture because you were busy worrying about the details. Sometimes you need someone to put those pieces together for you and show you the wider view. This isn't just an endless repetition of some crazy day that we manage to scramble through and keep on coming out the other end of. We've come a long way in the past 7 months and it is simply amazing...
Mel, thanks for showing me "amazing"... and thanks for the socks and undies, I'll wear them with pride.
A short conversation this morning while we were paraphrasing some of the things Sebastian "says":
Hey Elvis!
Yeah, Helga?
Elk needs food badly...
While out walking this morning there was an old-ish woman standing in the middle of the road outside the makeshift church at the local park. She was holding on to a wide open car door and didn't seem in a hurry to move. We weren't concerned for her wellbeing since there were other people around her. However, we did wonder how long she was planning to stand in the middle of the road.
After a while, a van that we've seen around the area a lot came down the road and was heading towards her before slowing down. This prompted me to have the following conversation with myself on behalf of the people involved:
Woman: Take me now, God!
Van driver: Sorry, I'm not God, I'm a caterer!
However, Mel corrected me...
Van driver: Yes I can, I'm a caterer!
She's right, you know... although I guess you need to know an earlier story to make sense of this...
Several years ago I was waiting in the car for Mel to come out of her workplace. I had reversed into my standard corner, with a row of bollards blocking the road behind me and nestled up against a kerb to my left. A van drove up and stopped a short distance away. The driver honked his horn and waved me out of the way. I wound down my window and said "I don't think you can go down there."
He replied "Yes we can, we're caterers!"
I moved, he 1/2 mounted the kerb and drove past the bollards...
I told Mel the story, wondering what other laws, or indeed laws of nature, do not apply to caterers. Got a problem? Call Superman? No! Call some caterers! Want to put your people back to work and open doors of opportunity for your kids? Call some caterers...
In case you're interested, the old-ish woman was not harmed - she moved. And, no, it was a different catering van...