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Who should pay for my children?

/ beaumontmichael

It is apparent that several politicians here in Australia believe that we should be paying for their children. With recent stories about pollies claiming for rock concert tickets for their children as legitimate expenses and business class air travel for holidays and special events. I have had a quick look at the makeup of the “independent” tribunal set up to have a look at politicians entitlements, and frankly I think there are too many politicians on the tribunal to give me any confidence that this will change substantially.

Ultimately we are responsible of course because we keep voting for them. It has often been said that we get the politicians we deserve. Uh oh.

I don’t know how many of you would have travelled in ‘business class’ when you were children, certainly not me. I have only done it once as an adult (and loved it). The idea that it is ok to have your children travel business class and have someone else pick up the tab, someone you do not know, is outrageous. I don’t care if it is within the rules, it is not OK, ok?

It is clear that several of our politicians need help in the “what is OK?” category, so I thought it might be useful if we came up with a test that they could use. Some might say that a test should be completely unnecessary and that pollies should just have a moral compass and exercise it. I may agree with that in principle, but it is quite clear that many don’t have one, and the ownership of one is rooted in the idea that pollies are like the rest of us. Clearly that is a leap in logic, a jump too far.

So what sort of test is reasonable? What about something like, “if I run it by the bloke at the local servo, and he says “you are kidding, right?” then that may work. Maybe it needs to be a little more ‘third person’ along the lines of “I know this guy, and he was thinking of taking a holiday with his kids and going to a live concert, and we were all going to travel business class, and then we were going to send the bill to someone else, but not tell them, what do you think? Would that be Ok?”

Then the politician could wait a while as the bloke at the servo loads his gun, or grabs a filleting knife, or whatever self-protection mechanism he has at his disposal behind the counter and brandishes it with menace.

Yeah I think that works better. Not even our thick-skinned, rudderless politicians could be in doubt about that.

Ultimately though, we are responsible. we keep turning up, we keep relying on the absurd party system in this country to select the best candidates and then we keep voting for these people. The very notion of putting my faith in either party is worrying me, a lot. As utterly annoying as this is though, it could be worse, we could be preparing to vote in the USA I guess.

Note. Michael is the curator of the Life Log Project in Sydney Australia. To learn more go to http://www.thelifelogproject.com.au

You never know what’s around the corner

/ beaumontmichael

In almost a decade in radio I had the pleasure of interviewing hundreds of interesting people. Sometimes it was challenging finding the newsworthy angle to the interview but it was never difficult to find the interesting bit. From time to time I got myself into hot water for pursuing the interesting bit at the cost of news but that was always fine with me. In fact it was that part that made it evident to me that I didn’t have what it took to be a journo.

In the decade that followed I interviewed dozens of interesting people, in my spare time, recording the talks, never really knowing why, maybe it would be a book, maybe it would be a podcast, but the stories were always amazing. In hindsight maybe it was partly me trying to discover where I fit into this mad,mad world. Whether my fears and struggles were legitimate when laid side by side with those of my peers and my superiors.

I interviewed survivors of World Wars, of family splits, of wrenching divorces and people who have spent their lives comfortably living lies while others spent their lives defending themselves because they told the truth. I have interviewed twins that were very similar and twins that looked identical and couldn’t possibly be more different. I have interviewed couples that almost got divorced mid interview and people who have cried in shame as they divulged a long-held secret.

As luck would have it, I now do this for a living. I have turned this wonderful craft into a business. The Life Log Project records stories for people who want or need to share them with others. I have recorded parents setting the record straight for their children, siblings explaining things, ageing patriarchs trying to explain the past and matriarchs recounting family tales and history.

The Life Log Project is the conduit through which generations are able to communicate and engage. The recordings are given to the family and them alone. They can share them with whom they wish. None of us really knows what’s around the corner, and though we would probably all like to think we will live to old age, it doesn’t always work out that way.

Many families also struggle with the gift for an older family member. Being told “your story is valuable to us, we would like to record it for our history” is pretty special, and a great gift for the entire family.

Footnote: You can find out more at the website http://www.thelifelogproject.com.au

Building tennis teams

/ beaumontmichael / 2 Comments

As a long distance observer, it seems to me that Davis Cup success and Tennis Australia are at the cross roads. Perhaps they are even past that point and now heading in opposite directions. We recently played Kazakstan (who knew that even had tennis players?) in Darwin on grass and came very close to having our pants lowered. Now I am not saying the Darwin’s grass courts are not the epicentre of tennis in Australia nor am I inferring that we played there because nowhere else in the country would have given a damn, or even that Tennis Australia decided to play there because it gave us a distinct advantage, (surely not).

The dislike that our 23 ranked player Bernard Tomic publicly displayed for the organisation resulted in his removal from the team. Probably a good thing too as it gave him just enough time to become famous in Miami for paying too much for a hotel room that magically transforms into a jail cell. All of which must have made the gurus at Tennis Australia feel grand indeed.

I think there is a bigger play here though. We had great success in the Davis Cup in the era before the pros and then again in the early days of professionalism. Frankly we weren’t much good at any other team sport and certainly not any that involved balls. In those heady days we also had more than our fair share of players inside the top ten. Back then to help us along a little, backyards were often filled with tennis courts and every farm had one, and tennis courts were not littered across the four corners of the globe as they are now. (who would have thought it?)

So history aside, now we have a bunch of highly paid professionals, some of whom are clearly not capable of looking after themselves, that require more than just a ‘nice guy’ that looks great in undies, to give them assistance. Building a team in this era, as anyone that has done it recently will tell you, has its own unique set of challenges.

Add to that the money, the bloated egos and the lack of understanding of the scale of the exercise and it is no surprise to me that it is not coming together beautifully. Team building in Australia is different to (most of) the rest of the world. Particularly at the pointy end of sport, and particularly with the addition of Gen Y.

I cringe when I hear the older generation say that “this would never happen in Harry Hopman’s day” because while it is true, I really can’t imagine Mr Tomic and Mr Hopman having much to say to one another. I can only imagine what the reaction might be to the suggestion of a quick run up a few sand dunes. At least Darwin is well situated for that little beauty. No, Harry is not the answer.

Tennis Australia should ship in Ray McLean and his troops. If you have not had the opportunity to read his books, I recommend them to anyone in Australia involved in team-building. I have used the philosophy both with my work team and the sporting teams that I work with and the systems and processes work. Without giving too much away, Ray is like a modern-day version of Harry Hopman, in that he thinks differently to everyone else and has bought his own brand along with him. He has done for AFL what Harry did for tennis.

Ray developed his skills working with the Air Force developing teamwork in mission-critical scenarios. There is nothing quite like taking life and death training and then honing that experience for work in team sport. As many a team coach will tell you, winning isn’t life or death, it’s much more important than that. Good luck Tennis.

On friendships that drift

/ beaumontmichael / 1 Comment

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I’m guessing we have all had friendships that have just drifted off into the ether. People that were once friends become acquaintances for no particular reason other than one or both parties stops making the effort that was once made. Most often neither party is at fault, sometimes the effort of constantly being the motivating force simply wears thin.

Occasionally it results in slightly embarrassing impromptu meetings in shopping centres or community get togethers but once that is taken care of the new status is confirmed and everyone is much the happier as a result.

I was watching a brilliant Netflix series on chefs the other day called (I think) the The Chefs Table, and the chef described many of his past friends as “just not interesting him much anymore.” While that is an extreme take on it, we probably also have old friends like that too. He or she may be OK in the right social setting, but that setting just wasn’t happening often enough. (think drink)

Perhaps in my case, I could sheet home the blame on my upbringing. After all, as the son of a Naval man, we moved house and school almost every two years which meant that I had some practice at not bonding totally and leaving people behind. Though in truth that may have some bearing, I do not blame my upbringing at all for allowing many of my best friendships to simply drift.

I really enjoy friendships that mean I don’t have to see people every day. I like to meet with my friends at a rhythm that suits me, not too often (whatever that may be) and not so rarely that I feel out of touch with their current challenges.

Supporting people through their challenges whether they might be mental, emotional or intellectual is the hub of all of my friendships. Offering a shoulder to cry on, a brain to pick, an ear to a version of a story or simply the comfort of a great meal and good wine is the cornerstone of every meaningful friendship I have. That may not be the case for everyone, but there you go.

That then may also explain why some friendships drift. Having picked my brain or eaten at my table or explained their story or cried on my shoulder, perhaps the other party needed more and I failed to provide it. I get really excited when I get the chance to share something with my friends. Sport or food or news it doesn’t really matter, life is exciting when that opportunity comes along. Friends are great, and I love to spend some time with them.

 

Footnote.Michael is the Chief Curator of http://www.thelifelogproject.com.au a business that helps people to tell their story for the benefit of future generations.

The retail warehouse quality help inverse ratio

/ beaumontmichael

I have recently been shopping for dog stuff. With a new puppy in the house after a long break, we need all the usual stuff. Baskets, beds, chew toys, leads, collars and a smattering of impulse purchases that I will no doubt regret. Fortunately for me, close to where I live is a range of pet warehouse retail opportunities.

I have visited them all more than once. I have noticed however, that the amount of help available anywhere other than at the counter seems to be in short supply and when it is available the willingness of the person to help is in inverse proportion to their knowledge base. So if they know nothing, they are very willing and if they know lots, then you can’t find them.

It seems that the way to get the information you need is to stand in a queue at the front counter, preferably in front of someone struggling to hold all the 20 kilo bags of dry food they are buying for their menagerie, and then stop and have a lengthy chat with the person serving.

While all of this is probably acceptable somewhere, it is not working for me. I feel way too guilty holding up the line, so I wont line up and then chat, and when I walk around the warehouse I can’t find anyone that knows anything. Consequently I have purchased a range of things based on the advice of someone who clearly (as it turns out) knows less than I do.

The only thing left to do is to come up with a name for the retail ratio. Perhaps the Warehouse help ratio fits best, hardly very inventive though, what do you think?

Letter to my children

/ beaumontmichael / 1 Comment

About twenty years ago my mother died of a Cerebral Haemorrhage. No warning, no planning no goodbyes. About ten years ago my father died of lung cancer, this was a long lingering farewell. Though both events were incredibly sad, the hole left by someone dying suddenly is difficult to fill in a way that is impossible to explain and beyond compare.

Shortly after the death of my mother I put pen to paper and wrote a letter to each of my two sons. The letter was my farewell, though I had no intention of going anywhere. It was really difficult to write and I cried several times as I scratched my way over the keyboard in my three finger typing style.

The letters contained messages of love and friendship and my dreams for each of them and a few short stories about them growing up. They included short stories of when they made me particularly proud and some advice for each of them.

My two boys are completely different, both beautiful caring strong sensitive young men with their difference best summed up by saying one of them gets anxious if he doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring and the other is always seeking something different for tomorrow. The letter writing gave me a sense of comfort knowing that if I were to bid a hasty departure from this life, my boys would have some conduit to their father. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next though.

Having taken the time to think about what I most wanted to say to each of them and what I felt was most important not to leave unsaid, (and they are two different things) I then began to act differently. Not hugely differently. Not so the family thought I had met-my-maker-in-a-stroke-or-heart-attack kind of a way. But differently none the less. I was more thoughtful, less reactive and much quieter. I began to be much more chilled out about them and their future. Which was nice for me and I’m sure was much more enjoyable for them too.

After all, as I said in my letter to them, above all else I wanted them to know the luxury of having been unconditionally loved by someone and to feel happiness. Neither of these things will be more likely to happen by me fussing about it.

Little did I know at the time that this correspondence would be the precursor for my business some fifteen years later. The Life Log Project helps people do this in a modern way using high quality audio recording. Of course the log can be used for lots of other things too. I have produced logs for people who wanted their families to know things after they had died, to explain divorces, to explain choices, to shine a light on an event or just to supply a delightful back story for the sake of posterity.

What I have noticed is the effect is has on people after they have committed to recording their inner most thoughts. They start to live them

Michael www.thelifelogproject.com.au

You could be a dick

/ beaumontmichael / 1 Comment

Twice a year we award worthy Australians with Medals. I get excited on both Australia Day and the Queens Birthday weekend in anticipation of reading the lists. As someone who has spent so much time recording stories and interviewing people it will not be any shock to you that it is the stories behind the awards that I like the most.

This year we have a cracker. The wonderful Dick Smith was awarded the country’s top honour and his is a lovely story, that should resonate with an entire generation.

Mr Smith is an achiever. The Americans would probably call him a winner. From humble beginnings he toiled to eventual business success and now seems to spend his time giving his money to people who need it more than he does.

The part of his story that should have ears burning everywhere, is his schooling. Marked 45th of 47 students in his year, he went through the apprenticeship route rather than to University. Many a young person is led to believe that if you haven’t made your mark academically by 12 or 13 you are up against it in the success stakes.

Dick Smith would have everyone know that he was not good at school but pretty good at business, leadership, learning and (in my opinion) being a good bloke. Personally I find it interesting that school failed to provide him the opportunity to shine. Though it doesn’t surprise me. The point though is that he didn’t let a thing like academics get in the way of success.

I am not teacher bashing either, some of my favourite people are teachers so this is not about teaching standards or anything like that. It is important for young people to know that the bumps and scuffs that almost inevitably occur during a young persons schooling are not an excuse to give up. In fact they should be providing the motivation to dig a little deeper and work a little harder. Dick Smith’s story shows there is more than one way to skin a cat. We need to be creative in the way we look at success, the way we approach hurdles and the methods we use to shine the light on the big world. Thank you Dick.

A puppy on the way

/ beaumontmichael

There is a dog on the way. We have been pet free for almost a decade and have enjoyed it immensely, but it is just not the same. Over the course of the next few months no doubt I will be writing about the way this hound has changed our lives. I hope I am writing about the joy and not the tears, but inevitably with pets there is a share of both.

It is not just any dog either. It is a fauve. The Basset fauve is an interesting breed that looks a little like a cocker spaniel and a little like a basset and a little like a lot of things but has its own distinct look. Hardly a succinct explanation but Im sure once you have seen a picture you will agree. When most people talk about fauves the first thing they say is “their ears are painted on” and that was the thing that instantly grabbed my interest. My poor long suffering teachers used to say the same thing to me in school. So instantly we have a fair bit in common.

Our pet free decade has included a few overseas trips and a few spontaneous weekends away, all of which will come to a screaming halt when the hound arrives. We have vaguely puppy proofed the house but not with any real zeal so no doubt he/she will find the most valuable item left at eye level to chew on. I say He/she because even though we have committed to owning the hound, the breeder is yet to allocate animals to buyers.

The litter consists of four girls and one boy. We initially said we were interested in a girl, but so is everyone else, so we have also said that we don’t want to miss out. Interestingly several people in the group have said the same thing. So this weekend we wait, holding our breath to discover if we are fishing around for a few suitable boy names or girl names. We have in the past had boy pets including Simpson the Labrador (famous for eating an entire worm farm, all three trays, in one sitting before requiring the local vet to pump his stomach). So perhaps it’s time for a girl but time will tell.

No doubt my witty son and even wittier bride have a long list of clever and beautiful names on a notepad somewhere waiting to be short listed. We have a six hour drive to meet the new family member and the same return so my first wish is that he/she travels well. I feel sure the name will settle almost instantly.

We have put our adult son in charge of training. As he continues to battle his way through the rigours of chemotherapy, his no nonsense approach to training everything (including me) will be put to perfect use. I am looking forward to the widening of our social circle as is the way with owning an animal in the inner city. Parks and routines become the catalyst for making new friends provided of course you do not own a killer.

I am also living in the hope that owning a dog will have an effect on my ever burgeoning waistline but I suspect the laziness that is clearly the root cause of the problem may be the very thing that causes the hound and I to cross swords. Im sure it wont be long before he/she looks up at me as we re-enter the house as the thought bubble hovers over his head saying “really that was not much of a walk bubble butt”.

I am genuinely excited about the new family member and look forward to sharing our adventures with you.