Many years ago, I did a weekend course - one of those personal development courses, this one was about getting into a relaxed alpha state and useing creative visualisation to learn about oneself or about other things, or to help bring about useful future outcomes. By that I mean getting into the alpha state (rested meditative state) and visualising in the mind's-eye the outcome desired. This technique is pure 'magical-thinking' to a psychiatrist, but it seems to work for me often enough. I can get car-park spots when I need them to this day.
I learned a lot from this course and it was that weekend I had my great Cosmic Consciousness experience, but that's not for now.
On this particular day, my friend Jeff Gray and I were heading to a meeting for the course and we were a little late - late enough that a bad ran of traffic would get us there after the arranged time, but a good run of traffic would see us there on time.
So we set off together on our motorbikes, side-by-side in that unspoken road-dancing camadarie of bikers riding together.
As we approached the first set of lights, I did my thing - I imagined in my mind's eye the light being green for us, and so it was. I said nothing to Jeff about it.
The second set I did the same, and once more, it was green. 'Wonderful' I thought to myself, perhaps Jeff is helping?
The third set of lights were perfect green for us too and I guessed that Jeff and I were both doing the very same thing, although not a word was spoken about this until this very day. Two of us using our mental magic in unison to get green lights when we needed them.
And so it was that on a long ride from Scarborough to Welshpool, a long ride right across the city, at least half an hour, through maybe 50 lights, that literally every single one was green for us. Not a single pause for a light slowed us down. And sure enough we arrived perfectly on time.
That's real magic :-)
Friday, 19 October 2012
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
Three Strikes and You're Out of Luck
Falling
Back in my twenties I met a nice young couple, the young bloke was in a band, and his girlfriend would go along in support. They say that a woman often chooses her next man before leaving the last one, and I was getting on pretty well with her. So there came a day when we were hanging around the pub while he played, and we shared a drink in the quiet lounge, away from where he was playing. Things were 'going very well', as Kaylee said about Simon Tan in Firefly.
It seems she had chosen me as her next man, and she looked me right in the eye, and cast her romantic net over me, she wanted to catch me. At that moment I actually experienced falling - suddenly the ground seemed to drop out from under me and I felt in my gut like I was falling into a bottomlesss pit. This feeling only lasted for a few moments, but now I know why they say 'falling in love'. I literally felt that falling experience. And the result? I let her slip through my fingers.
Morning Coffee
As a young man I studied Japanese and like many of us Japanese students, we met many Japanese tourists, a natural match - we wanted to practice Japanese and learn, they wanted to interact with sympathetic Aussies. I met one particularly nice young Japanese lass and we shared some nice experiences, including a drive to Northam. I pulled out a joint and had a smoke as we drive along this narrow country rode - but she was terrified as I drove along this winding tiny aussie rode while stoned.
One night we went to a party together, it was a nice relaxed event, some music, some dancing, some talking, some dart games - it was a pleasant night. After a bit, I felt my energies flagging somewhat, so I thought a coffee might be nice, and I asked her "would you like a coffee?" She looked at me in horror, a confused pause of disgust and amazement. I had no idea what was wrong, so I repeated : "I'm going to the kitchen to make a coffee, would you like one too?". Her relief was obvious and palpable and she happily agreed, her shock and horror faded, and we shared a coffee in the kitchen. It was not until later that I realised what had happened - it was common in young Japanese culture to ask something like "shall we share morning coffee together?" as a way of politely asking for sex. Of course, we never did share morning coffee.
See you later
One day while working at the casino, I had a dinner date with a female friend - I don't remember who asked who out, but she was a nice friend and I was happy to spend dinner with her. During the dinner, one of my female work-mates dropped by to say hello, and my date made a point of saying "hey - he's mine for tonight". Well, I was sexually conservative, inexperienced, unconfident, and I didn't really grasp what she meant or intended, and didn't have the confidence to open up about what the evening may involve. I also had a girlfriend in another city and wasn't sure if I had told her - and I would never even consider being unfaithful. I said nothing. Afterwards, we went back to my room, and she had packed her nightie. We got into bed, said goodnight and simply went to sleep. Next morning we politely said goodbye, and that was that. To this day I think of that lost paramour and hope I meet again - not to have sex, but to apologise for my letting her down without explanation.
Back in my twenties I met a nice young couple, the young bloke was in a band, and his girlfriend would go along in support. They say that a woman often chooses her next man before leaving the last one, and I was getting on pretty well with her. So there came a day when we were hanging around the pub while he played, and we shared a drink in the quiet lounge, away from where he was playing. Things were 'going very well', as Kaylee said about Simon Tan in Firefly.
It seems she had chosen me as her next man, and she looked me right in the eye, and cast her romantic net over me, she wanted to catch me. At that moment I actually experienced falling - suddenly the ground seemed to drop out from under me and I felt in my gut like I was falling into a bottomlesss pit. This feeling only lasted for a few moments, but now I know why they say 'falling in love'. I literally felt that falling experience. And the result? I let her slip through my fingers.
Morning Coffee
As a young man I studied Japanese and like many of us Japanese students, we met many Japanese tourists, a natural match - we wanted to practice Japanese and learn, they wanted to interact with sympathetic Aussies. I met one particularly nice young Japanese lass and we shared some nice experiences, including a drive to Northam. I pulled out a joint and had a smoke as we drive along this narrow country rode - but she was terrified as I drove along this winding tiny aussie rode while stoned.
One night we went to a party together, it was a nice relaxed event, some music, some dancing, some talking, some dart games - it was a pleasant night. After a bit, I felt my energies flagging somewhat, so I thought a coffee might be nice, and I asked her "would you like a coffee?" She looked at me in horror, a confused pause of disgust and amazement. I had no idea what was wrong, so I repeated : "I'm going to the kitchen to make a coffee, would you like one too?". Her relief was obvious and palpable and she happily agreed, her shock and horror faded, and we shared a coffee in the kitchen. It was not until later that I realised what had happened - it was common in young Japanese culture to ask something like "shall we share morning coffee together?" as a way of politely asking for sex. Of course, we never did share morning coffee.
See you later
One day while working at the casino, I had a dinner date with a female friend - I don't remember who asked who out, but she was a nice friend and I was happy to spend dinner with her. During the dinner, one of my female work-mates dropped by to say hello, and my date made a point of saying "hey - he's mine for tonight". Well, I was sexually conservative, inexperienced, unconfident, and I didn't really grasp what she meant or intended, and didn't have the confidence to open up about what the evening may involve. I also had a girlfriend in another city and wasn't sure if I had told her - and I would never even consider being unfaithful. I said nothing. Afterwards, we went back to my room, and she had packed her nightie. We got into bed, said goodnight and simply went to sleep. Next morning we politely said goodbye, and that was that. To this day I think of that lost paramour and hope I meet again - not to have sex, but to apologise for my letting her down without explanation.
Saturday, 21 April 2012
Cosmic Consciousness
In my twenties I went along to a spiritual growth weekend course - largely based on relaxing into an alpha state and using creative visualisation to learn, or to project a desired outcome. It was a positive experience, and I learnt about myself and the power of visualisation.
And, at the time I was also into astronomy, I had a nice 8inch Meade telescope, and often used it to view the Moon and planets and stars - even Halley's comet when it came past again in the 80s.
I liked to follow the movement of the planets, imagining their orbits and their distance from us. The two planets inside our orbit and thus never seen in the darkest hours - Mercury close to the sun, moving fast and rarely visible; Venus a little slower, a little further out and thus more visible, both the morning 'star' and the evening 'star', depending on it's position.
Then the outside planets which could be seen by naked eye even the darkest hours of the night - Mars, slightly red; Jupiter large and bright and slightly yellow/brown, Saturn less close, with the rings a wonderful sight in the 'scope . I got to know their orbits and movements fairly well over this period - and one night I had a wonderful experience of sight and understanding.
As I looked at several planets, the sun just having set - I saw it - I saw the solar system. I could see the sun was just below the horizon, I could see several planets and their relative distances, and their movement through their orbits. It all fit in my head, and I apprehended the whole solar (almost) system in my mind. It was a wonderful moment of seeing large.
And this moment of seeing large lead to one of the great experiences of my life in the alpha course shortly afterwards.
One of the exercises in this personal development weekend was to visualise one's consciousness growing larger and larger, to imagine one's 'self' was larger than merely the physical body we wear. First we imagined our consciousness expanding to fill the room - to be the room. Then to expand further and be the suburb, then be the city, then Australia, then the solar system. And it really 'clicked' for me - I surmise that the experience I had had in seeing the solar system was the trigger that made it work so well for me. It worked - I was the solar system. I went further, and I was the galaxy, then the whole universe. I had the experience of Cosmic Consciousness, one the sublimely great moments of this incarnation. My consciousness encompassed all of creation.
Afterwards, coming back to the room I was filled with energy and joy to such an extent I could not stop grinning with joy for a good hour or more - indeed my face ached from smiling so long.
Thank you Luc.
And, at the time I was also into astronomy, I had a nice 8inch Meade telescope, and often used it to view the Moon and planets and stars - even Halley's comet when it came past again in the 80s.
I liked to follow the movement of the planets, imagining their orbits and their distance from us. The two planets inside our orbit and thus never seen in the darkest hours - Mercury close to the sun, moving fast and rarely visible; Venus a little slower, a little further out and thus more visible, both the morning 'star' and the evening 'star', depending on it's position.
Then the outside planets which could be seen by naked eye even the darkest hours of the night - Mars, slightly red; Jupiter large and bright and slightly yellow/brown, Saturn less close, with the rings a wonderful sight in the 'scope . I got to know their orbits and movements fairly well over this period - and one night I had a wonderful experience of sight and understanding.
As I looked at several planets, the sun just having set - I saw it - I saw the solar system. I could see the sun was just below the horizon, I could see several planets and their relative distances, and their movement through their orbits. It all fit in my head, and I apprehended the whole solar (almost) system in my mind. It was a wonderful moment of seeing large.
And this moment of seeing large lead to one of the great experiences of my life in the alpha course shortly afterwards.
One of the exercises in this personal development weekend was to visualise one's consciousness growing larger and larger, to imagine one's 'self' was larger than merely the physical body we wear. First we imagined our consciousness expanding to fill the room - to be the room. Then to expand further and be the suburb, then be the city, then Australia, then the solar system. And it really 'clicked' for me - I surmise that the experience I had had in seeing the solar system was the trigger that made it work so well for me. It worked - I was the solar system. I went further, and I was the galaxy, then the whole universe. I had the experience of Cosmic Consciousness, one the sublimely great moments of this incarnation. My consciousness encompassed all of creation.
Afterwards, coming back to the room I was filled with energy and joy to such an extent I could not stop grinning with joy for a good hour or more - indeed my face ached from smiling so long.
Thank you Luc.
Friday, 13 April 2012
The Butterfly and the Rock
I stood upon the rock, the big red rock at Australia's center, Uluru - usually called "Ayer's Rock" by most of us white-fellas. The sun beat down from almost overhead, I could see for miles - the tourist's cars and buses like toy cars below me, the lumpy Olgas in the distance, endless plains of red stretching in all directions. It was hot and still, with very few flies, and just an ocassional bird-call.
I was on a mission. A spiritual mission for The Brotherhood of Angels and of Humanity - a small group dedicated to helping the spirit beings of the mountains. My mission was to plant a talisman, a specially prepared sealed brass tube which contained fragments of various crystals - diamond, emerald, rubies, sapphire etc. all blessed by the elder of our group - our leading Bishop.
My goal was to find a place for the talisman deep inside the rock, where it could radiate for millenia, helping the Angel of the Rock to spread it's energies to the land and the people.
But I felt not at all spiritual, I felt no connection with the rock or its spirit, I could see no place to plant our talisman, and the gaggle of noisy tourists made the atmosphere the very opposite of quiet and spiritual. I looked for a place to plant my talisman, but all I could find was a little hole full of rubbish, not exactly the right type of place.
I felt silly and insignificant, I felt small and powerless - I was a gnat on the rump of an elephant, I was a grain of sand on a vast beach, I was a mote in God's eye, I was 30 year old child on a rock that was millenia old. I was as nothing compared to this vast rock. I realised I would have to dig deep to make the connection I sought. It was approaching Noon. (Generally I am sensitive enough to feel morning change to afternoon.) Fortune smiled on me, and just then, all the tourists left, and I was alone on the rock, minutes before Noon.
So I lay down flat on the rock, head to the east, undid my shirt, lowered my trousers just a little, so my spine was presssed against the rock, and the sun beat down on all my chakras, my centers of energy. I drew in earth energy, I basked in Sun energy - and I called for assistance as Noon occurred, waiting for a sign.
It came in the the form of a lovely butterfly - I followed him some distance, and it lead me to crack in the rock, a sloping gap where a huge flake of rock was peeling away. The lower end of the crack narrowed and lead down deep in the rock. I knew this was the place.
So I held the talisman in my hand and reached as far and as deep into the crack as I could, and then flicked it down into the crack. I heard it 'tinkle tinkle' as it tumbed down deeper into this crack, ending up deep inside Uluru, where it would be undisturbed for millenia. My mission had succeeded, the butterfly had lead me truly. The talisman is there decades later, helping humans and angels to spread the light.
I was on a mission. A spiritual mission for The Brotherhood of Angels and of Humanity - a small group dedicated to helping the spirit beings of the mountains. My mission was to plant a talisman, a specially prepared sealed brass tube which contained fragments of various crystals - diamond, emerald, rubies, sapphire etc. all blessed by the elder of our group - our leading Bishop.
My goal was to find a place for the talisman deep inside the rock, where it could radiate for millenia, helping the Angel of the Rock to spread it's energies to the land and the people.
But I felt not at all spiritual, I felt no connection with the rock or its spirit, I could see no place to plant our talisman, and the gaggle of noisy tourists made the atmosphere the very opposite of quiet and spiritual. I looked for a place to plant my talisman, but all I could find was a little hole full of rubbish, not exactly the right type of place.
I felt silly and insignificant, I felt small and powerless - I was a gnat on the rump of an elephant, I was a grain of sand on a vast beach, I was a mote in God's eye, I was 30 year old child on a rock that was millenia old. I was as nothing compared to this vast rock. I realised I would have to dig deep to make the connection I sought. It was approaching Noon. (Generally I am sensitive enough to feel morning change to afternoon.) Fortune smiled on me, and just then, all the tourists left, and I was alone on the rock, minutes before Noon.
So I lay down flat on the rock, head to the east, undid my shirt, lowered my trousers just a little, so my spine was presssed against the rock, and the sun beat down on all my chakras, my centers of energy. I drew in earth energy, I basked in Sun energy - and I called for assistance as Noon occurred, waiting for a sign.
It came in the the form of a lovely butterfly - I followed him some distance, and it lead me to crack in the rock, a sloping gap where a huge flake of rock was peeling away. The lower end of the crack narrowed and lead down deep in the rock. I knew this was the place.
So I held the talisman in my hand and reached as far and as deep into the crack as I could, and then flicked it down into the crack. I heard it 'tinkle tinkle' as it tumbed down deeper into this crack, ending up deep inside Uluru, where it would be undisturbed for millenia. My mission had succeeded, the butterfly had lead me truly. The talisman is there decades later, helping humans and angels to spread the light.
Thursday, 12 April 2012
The Little Red Book
It was 1972 when I was 11, just old enough to start understanding the real world, but still too young to understand society in any meaningful way. The Adventures of Barry Mackenzie was on at the drive-in in Dowerin. It was the start of the Gough Whitlam era. Cigarette packets began to include health warnings.
We lived in a tiny country town called Minivale on the railway line in the wheat belt of Western Australia. The population was under 100, it was so small there wasn't even a pub, just one single shop.
There came a day when I over-heard my parents talking with a visitor about some dangerous book. A red book. Apparently The Red Book of Chairman Mao, (who at that time was leading the Chinese in a cultural revolution that was sweeping away the old, and causing great destruction in China.) They spoke of this book in hushed tones, furtively looking around to see if someone was listening - someone like me that is. Apparently it was full of dangerous knowledge, it was evil and subversive, and it must be carefully restricted - especially kept out of the hands of children in whom it might corrupt and even inspire communism. Reds under the beds was the fear of the time !
Well, I had never heard of this book, and would have never been interested until I overheard that talk about keeping it away from children - but obviously I kept an eye out for it - not that an 11 year old had much resources in a tiny town with no library, and it was long before the internet.
So sure enough - one day I found myself alone in a room with that book for an hour or two. So naturally I immediately read it from cover to cover. Wow - what an eye-opener it was - I was astonished.
Of course - it wasn't Chairman Mao's book at all. It was actually The Little Red Schoolbook written in 1969 by S. Hansen and J. Jensen. It was a highly controversial book, which was even banned in some countries. It was targetted at school children, and was designed to inform openly about subjects such as drugs, sex, advertising, and authority. It was shockingly open and direct in a way that I had never seen before, and not often since. I learned a great deal about the world from that book - but to this day I have no idea who made the confusion about which Red Book it was.
The full book can be read here :
The Little Red School Book
We lived in a tiny country town called Minivale on the railway line in the wheat belt of Western Australia. The population was under 100, it was so small there wasn't even a pub, just one single shop.
There came a day when I over-heard my parents talking with a visitor about some dangerous book. A red book. Apparently The Red Book of Chairman Mao, (who at that time was leading the Chinese in a cultural revolution that was sweeping away the old, and causing great destruction in China.) They spoke of this book in hushed tones, furtively looking around to see if someone was listening - someone like me that is. Apparently it was full of dangerous knowledge, it was evil and subversive, and it must be carefully restricted - especially kept out of the hands of children in whom it might corrupt and even inspire communism. Reds under the beds was the fear of the time !
Well, I had never heard of this book, and would have never been interested until I overheard that talk about keeping it away from children - but obviously I kept an eye out for it - not that an 11 year old had much resources in a tiny town with no library, and it was long before the internet.
So sure enough - one day I found myself alone in a room with that book for an hour or two. So naturally I immediately read it from cover to cover. Wow - what an eye-opener it was - I was astonished.
Of course - it wasn't Chairman Mao's book at all. It was actually The Little Red Schoolbook written in 1969 by S. Hansen and J. Jensen. It was a highly controversial book, which was even banned in some countries. It was targetted at school children, and was designed to inform openly about subjects such as drugs, sex, advertising, and authority. It was shockingly open and direct in a way that I had never seen before, and not often since. I learned a great deal about the world from that book - but to this day I have no idea who made the confusion about which Red Book it was.
The full book can be read here :
The Little Red School Book
Monday, 26 March 2012
How I nearly missed the flight, but saved the day
Years ago I worked on computer systems for casinos, our company was in Perth, and we supported casinos here and in Adelaide and elsewhere. As opening day for Adelaide approached, I was more interested in being with my girlfriend in Perth than hanging around for the opening day. So 2 days before Adelaide casino opened, I caught a flight back to Perth - "she'll be right" I thought - what could possibly go wrong with a complex computer system involving hundreds of networked parts in the 80s? Even if I had made a software change to the system 30 minutes before I left!
On my return to Perth my girlfriend met me at the airport - fully dressed up in a beautiful pink dress slit to the thigh, magnificent beehive hairdo with pink feather, shiny leather boots, and even elbow length pink gloves to match. Wow.
We spent the day in various debaucheries and dissoluteness and were at one of my friends place when oddly, a phone call came through - for me. For me? Here? Turns out I had left a bug in the code and they desperately needed me back to fix it, with only 1 day to spare, and my boss had spent the day ringing all over Perth trying to track me down. They had managed to get me a midnight flight to Adelaide connecting through Melbourne which would get there a few hours before opening time.
Naturally, I spent the rest of the day in various excesses - which, as I recall, involved a whole bottle of baby oil and two ruined sheets and a ruined matress. But somehow time seemed to slip away, and later, checking my watch, I found it was 11:30pm! Oh my God! it was 30 minutes to the airport and the flight left in 30 minutes! I have never moved so fast in my life! My heart was thumping 120BPM as I threw everything into my suitcase, ran to the car and drove at break-neck speed, not even stopping for red lights. Fate was with me and I drove into the airport at 11:58 pm.
I ran full pelt into the departure lounge - it was completely empty. Except for one staff member behind the counter - he looked up as I ran pell-mell towards him, and he realised instantly who I was - the missing passenger. As I ran towards the counter, he furiously started writing and stamping on a bit of paper - my boarding pass. When I reached him, I threw my suitcase onto the conveyor and he shoved the pass into my hand and said "gate6 - Go!". I sprinted off towards gate 6, and behind me I heard him call out "your luggage won't make it though."
I ran through gate 6, out onto the tarmac, and saw the boarding ramp vehicle was literally just pulling away from the airplane. I bounded up the ramp 3 steps at a time, and the thumping of my footsteps clued the driver to stop - I arrived at the top to find a gap of 3-4 feet between the ramp and the plane. I swear to God - I jumped full sprint across the gap into the plane, colliding into a very surprised looking stewardess. I had made it!
So I settled into my seat, very relieved indeed, until I recalled that my luggage had the EPROM programmer in it - the device needed to change the bug in my code inside the EPROM computer chips in the Keno terminals. Oh dear.
I arrived in Melbourne just before a threatening storm, but made it onto my flight to Adelaide - the last flight before Melbourne airport was closed. Fate smiled on me again. Finally, I arrived in Adelaide early morning, no luggage, no EPROM programmer.
So I rang around a few tech stores enquiring about an EPROM programmer, and actually found a place which was prepared to loan me one to see if it 'suited our needs'. With 2 hours to spare, I had the programmer in my hands, and the code on my screen, with the obvious bug staring me in the face. I fixed the bug, programmed all the EPROMS and then walked around the madhosue of a casino about to open in one hour and replaced all the EPROMS in all the Keno terminals. (We then sent the EPROM programmer back - "sorry, it wasn't quite what we wanted".)
One hour later, the casino opened and the very first Keno game began (a game which involves drawing a selection of numbered balls from a big spinning cage - not unlike Lotto.) As all the casino big-wigs stood and watched, the announcer started to call out the numbers as they popped out of the machine one by one : "number 15", "number 6", "number 28" ... etc. Suddenly the announcer stopped in confusion, and then said with some embarassment "Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, we have a slight problem, we'll be stopping this game". For one panicky moment I thought I had really ballsed something up, even though ball-drawing was nothing to do with my area.
It turned out that the ball mechanism had a small place where a ball could get stuck inside the machine without being noticed, and a ball number 6 had become caught there from the previous practice run. The announcer was about to call out a SECOND "number 6", but realised he had already just called a number 6 and so had to stop that very first game. Phew - this one was not my fault after all. Lucky he spotted it, otherwise any bets with number 6 would have won twice the odds till they sorted it out.
On my return to Perth my girlfriend met me at the airport - fully dressed up in a beautiful pink dress slit to the thigh, magnificent beehive hairdo with pink feather, shiny leather boots, and even elbow length pink gloves to match. Wow.
We spent the day in various debaucheries and dissoluteness and were at one of my friends place when oddly, a phone call came through - for me. For me? Here? Turns out I had left a bug in the code and they desperately needed me back to fix it, with only 1 day to spare, and my boss had spent the day ringing all over Perth trying to track me down. They had managed to get me a midnight flight to Adelaide connecting through Melbourne which would get there a few hours before opening time.
Naturally, I spent the rest of the day in various excesses - which, as I recall, involved a whole bottle of baby oil and two ruined sheets and a ruined matress. But somehow time seemed to slip away, and later, checking my watch, I found it was 11:30pm! Oh my God! it was 30 minutes to the airport and the flight left in 30 minutes! I have never moved so fast in my life! My heart was thumping 120BPM as I threw everything into my suitcase, ran to the car and drove at break-neck speed, not even stopping for red lights. Fate was with me and I drove into the airport at 11:58 pm.
I ran full pelt into the departure lounge - it was completely empty. Except for one staff member behind the counter - he looked up as I ran pell-mell towards him, and he realised instantly who I was - the missing passenger. As I ran towards the counter, he furiously started writing and stamping on a bit of paper - my boarding pass. When I reached him, I threw my suitcase onto the conveyor and he shoved the pass into my hand and said "gate6 - Go!". I sprinted off towards gate 6, and behind me I heard him call out "your luggage won't make it though."
I ran through gate 6, out onto the tarmac, and saw the boarding ramp vehicle was literally just pulling away from the airplane. I bounded up the ramp 3 steps at a time, and the thumping of my footsteps clued the driver to stop - I arrived at the top to find a gap of 3-4 feet between the ramp and the plane. I swear to God - I jumped full sprint across the gap into the plane, colliding into a very surprised looking stewardess. I had made it!
So I settled into my seat, very relieved indeed, until I recalled that my luggage had the EPROM programmer in it - the device needed to change the bug in my code inside the EPROM computer chips in the Keno terminals. Oh dear.
I arrived in Melbourne just before a threatening storm, but made it onto my flight to Adelaide - the last flight before Melbourne airport was closed. Fate smiled on me again. Finally, I arrived in Adelaide early morning, no luggage, no EPROM programmer.
So I rang around a few tech stores enquiring about an EPROM programmer, and actually found a place which was prepared to loan me one to see if it 'suited our needs'. With 2 hours to spare, I had the programmer in my hands, and the code on my screen, with the obvious bug staring me in the face. I fixed the bug, programmed all the EPROMS and then walked around the madhosue of a casino about to open in one hour and replaced all the EPROMS in all the Keno terminals. (We then sent the EPROM programmer back - "sorry, it wasn't quite what we wanted".)
One hour later, the casino opened and the very first Keno game began (a game which involves drawing a selection of numbered balls from a big spinning cage - not unlike Lotto.) As all the casino big-wigs stood and watched, the announcer started to call out the numbers as they popped out of the machine one by one : "number 15", "number 6", "number 28" ... etc. Suddenly the announcer stopped in confusion, and then said with some embarassment "Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, we have a slight problem, we'll be stopping this game". For one panicky moment I thought I had really ballsed something up, even though ball-drawing was nothing to do with my area.
It turned out that the ball mechanism had a small place where a ball could get stuck inside the machine without being noticed, and a ball number 6 had become caught there from the previous practice run. The announcer was about to call out a SECOND "number 6", but realised he had already just called a number 6 and so had to stop that very first game. Phew - this one was not my fault after all. Lucky he spotted it, otherwise any bets with number 6 would have won twice the odds till they sorted it out.
Monday, 12 March 2012
Dreaming the Melbourne Cup Winner
It was 1963, the year the British stopped testing nuclear bombs in Australia, the year Whitlam and Calwell were photographed standing cap-in-hand under a street-lamp outside in the street , waiting for the Labor caucus inside (the 36 "faceless men") to decide their future without them.
The Queen visited that year, prompting Prime Minister Menzies to sycophantly proclaim "I did but see her passing by, and yet I love her till I die". The Queen responded with an odd smiling shrug - almost a grimace of embarassment.
My parents had just married, I was about 2 years old, and we had an odd stroke of luck that year - a family story that is oft-remembered, but yet never really understood. My mother does not dream at all, she says; but my Dad does from time to time. He is not at all religious or spiritually minded, being quite down-to-earth and practical. But on this one occasion something rather odd happened.
One day in early November 1963, my Dad dreamed about the Melbourne Cup - indeed he specifically dreamed that it was won by a horse called "Gatum Gatum". Dad laughed it off, but Mum took this very seriously, and insisted they actually bet on the horse. She scraped together all the florins and shillings and pence which could be found, a total of some pounds, and took it to the bookie for a bet on Gatum Gatum to win.
Gatum Gatum was far from the favourite - indeed his odds were 25-to-1 for the win.
But sure enough, exactly as Dad dreamed - he came in to win at 25-to-1.
The story goes that when Mum went to collect, the poor bookie shovelled piles of notes at her - even including a few 'blue notes' (the rare 5-pound note.)
The money went on various bills, but also paid for our first pedigree British Bulldog - "Dallymore Tiger", a pet I remember with much affection who lived with us for ten years to follow.
Now-a-days Dad shrugs it off as a "just a fluke", as just "one of those things" - to which I wonder "one of what things, exactly?"
The Queen visited that year, prompting Prime Minister Menzies to sycophantly proclaim "I did but see her passing by, and yet I love her till I die". The Queen responded with an odd smiling shrug - almost a grimace of embarassment.
My parents had just married, I was about 2 years old, and we had an odd stroke of luck that year - a family story that is oft-remembered, but yet never really understood. My mother does not dream at all, she says; but my Dad does from time to time. He is not at all religious or spiritually minded, being quite down-to-earth and practical. But on this one occasion something rather odd happened.
One day in early November 1963, my Dad dreamed about the Melbourne Cup - indeed he specifically dreamed that it was won by a horse called "Gatum Gatum". Dad laughed it off, but Mum took this very seriously, and insisted they actually bet on the horse. She scraped together all the florins and shillings and pence which could be found, a total of some pounds, and took it to the bookie for a bet on Gatum Gatum to win.
Gatum Gatum was far from the favourite - indeed his odds were 25-to-1 for the win.
But sure enough, exactly as Dad dreamed - he came in to win at 25-to-1.
The story goes that when Mum went to collect, the poor bookie shovelled piles of notes at her - even including a few 'blue notes' (the rare 5-pound note.)
The money went on various bills, but also paid for our first pedigree British Bulldog - "Dallymore Tiger", a pet I remember with much affection who lived with us for ten years to follow.
Now-a-days Dad shrugs it off as a "just a fluke", as just "one of those things" - to which I wonder "one of what things, exactly?"
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