Craft or DIY - home golfing range?

I can't believe I even gave this post that title.

A driving range is a place where you get 100 balls, whack them as hard as you can at the guy in the caged tractor and try not humiliate yourself with too many airswings.

Unless you live on a farm, a home driving range is not really that practical.  Think broken windows in the neighbour's over the back and a little chat from the cops or local council.

So for the home setting, let's settle on golfing range.  I built one this morning out of frustration in not being able to duck out in today's glorious weather for 9 holes before school pickup this afternoon.  You can't always know when it's going to be a lovely day and children, let's face it, are a constraint of sorts.

I think since I'm not that "crafty" (decoupage, scrapbooking, pottery etc) I'm going to put this in the DIY department.  Since it kind of works, at $0 cost - can I just say, I'm pretty impressed with my meagre efforts.  The need to look up "How to take a decent photo with an iphone" on Mr Knows-It-All-Google has become quite apparent in the documentation of this little project!!

Step 1.  OMG, is this my first tutorial?!

Just a little bit of foam from the new printer box cut out with a steak knife.  For this project (now we're talking it up) I didn't want to use any specialist implements like a craft knife, box cutter, scalpel.  It's DIY, not craft!

Step 2.  The stuffing bit.

And then stuff the styrofoam in the door mat.  It helps if you've already got one of these.  Remember - no specialist equipment.  You do need a tee, a ball, and a golf club. 

That being said; if you're drunk, mucking around, or simply ill-equipped: a broom handle, stick, vacuum cleaner hose etc. may suffice!












Step 3.  Position & Play.

I've angled my Home Driving Range on a slight diagonal to accommodate a slightly longer test shot.  Yes, the first shot did crack into the tree and bounce onto the fence.

Am considering giving up the 8 iron and going with a broomstick for the safety of my property and that of the neighbours!

Billionaire Tax - The Infomercial

Late at night is a fabulous time to sell workout equipment people don't have the space for and will eventually use as a clothes horse.  Is it the late hour?  The senses are weakened given the quiet of the night and absence of reason that has been sucked out into the night air.

Perhaps the infomercial technique has its success in the extreme length of their "programmes".  Telling us the same information over and over again in 10 different ways and with testimonials from 30 gorgeous "everyday people" is a brainwashing many can't resist.  The credit card is out sooner than you can say "4 easy payments" and the deal's done.

What about convincing people, just a small group of people, to put their "4 easy payments" to something that really counts.  As mentioned in my earlier post, the Giving Pledge by the super-mega rich would qualify as something that really counts.

The Giving Pledge is not a product to be bought, it's a promise.  A very public promise for sure.  A promise from an individual. A broken promise at this scale is a broken reputation and not one readily fixed in a lifetime.

The promises of various countries to support the poor, the sick, the dying, the war-ravaged and those without hope have fallen short.  Local factors, global markets, and a litany of reasons excuse these countries from truly following through.  Whilst countries are looking after their own, no face is lost through reneging.

What to do?  Do what you've always done (seek government pledges), get what you've always got (priority of local population over international aid).

UN top man Ban Ki-moon says "innovative financing" is required and perhaps we can look to the 1,226 billionaires in the world (as of 2012).  Can 1,226 billionaires really make a difference?

The United Nations announced recently that they believe that this group as a whole could be pushed through international taxation to make an extraordinary difference to the plight of the poor.

How extraordinary?  Try 1% of $4.6 trillion.  Thats $46 billion annually that could feed the hungry and support those in the most dire of circumstances.

A sliver of this elite group's wealth represents more than the GDP of many countries.

The World Food Programme says that hunger is one of the world's most solvable problems.  With some innovation and co-operation of a small amount of people, amazing things can happen.

I do understand the reticence.  Putting money into countries ravaged by war, famine and particularly corruption, the super rich may believe it's good money after bad.

Convincing millions of people in the world to eat McDonalds or buy an Ab Circle-Pro seems to be an easy task.  Convincing a small group of 1,226 people to make a huge, life saving decision is another thing.  International wealth taxation is going to be a hard sell and unless their informercials are billionaire-tastic, it will be a long way off.

What if 4 billion people gave $10 annually? 

I can do that, and then some.  From small seeds............

What Would You Give Away?

There are some conversations that I repeat at least twice a year with whoever will listen. 

What if I won the lotto?  Pay off the house, go on a big holiday, buy a Lambourghini?  How will we manage to retain our friendships now we're so damned wealthy?  Should we give handouts to our friends, take them on holiday, just throw a massive party, pay just their medical expenses?  Then they'd owe you wouldn't they?  Which friends would we choose to come on our handout train?  Awkward. 

It is a taxing enough issue that I will happily enter this conversation with whoever'll listen over and over again.

Oh, and the questions go on.  What percentage would you give to charity?  Would you only give to charity if you won more than the money to cover your debts?  This is serious stuff that takes up at least 2 hours of conversion and contemplation each year of my non-Lotto winning life.

Some people (who I'm not personally acquainted with) are confronted with what percentage to give to charity regularly in their "I-can-buy-you-I can-buy-your-whole-town" lives.  Lotto winners in this equation (well Australian Lotto winners, not Euro Millions jackpot winners) are small fry in comparison to the hundreds of billionaires that seem to be doing just a little bit better than I am.

Many good doers, not do-gooders, might allocate 5% or more of their income to charity.  They haven't made a million dollars this year and maybe not even in the last 5 years. Just decent people who are doing their little bit for people who haven't got the health, lifestyle and security they do.

Then there's these confounded billionaires who need to have other billionaires to remind them not to be so scabby.  1% of a billion dollars, pounds, or even cents is mean.  All managed by their accountant so they can get the right tax breaks and won't need to think too much about those revolting "less fortunate" that are doing little to help them get richer. Greedy bastards.

So the question has now changed, if you were a billionaire, how much would you give to charity?  Surely if you have a conscience, you wouldn't need to be bloody-well reminded to give a decent percentage to others who need it.

Maybe you've never given money to others before and need a framework to encourage you to stop being so mean.  If The Giving Pledge is any indication, if you're a billionaire then 50% of a shitload should ease your conscience somewhat.

The one thing I learnt from The Richest Man In Babylon is that if you've got a little bit of money, you need to get that money to work for you. Or something like that.  People like Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, used their money and the influence it brings, to work for them by asking a lot more than tokenism from their fellow moneybags.  They started the idea of The Giving Pledge by encouraging a short list of billionaires to 'sit down, decide how much money they and their progeny need, and figure out what to do with the rest of it'.  They wanted to give heaps of money to charity; why do it with just their own money?  Conscience is further eased.  We're feeling more comfortable now.

Sure beats door knocking for a squillion $2 tax deductible donations.

With this kind of wealth, simply the people signed to The Giving Pledge could own us, our town, well almost our whole bloomin' country.  That's a further responsibility with more questions.

Now you've decided that 50% is the percentage, who do you give it to?

See my next post for why you could do worse than model yourself on Bill and Melinda Gates.

Different, Unusual ... Nice?

Overheard at a sporting event recently:

Mum: "Chantay (pron.SHON-tay) ... come here darling!"
Cheeky bystander: "oooh, that's a nice name, where's that from?"
Mum: "I made it up!! I just liked it"
Me: (to myself) 'why, of course you did, Renay" (just guessing)
Kath & Kim from the balconies .. "different .... unusual  .... nice...."

Kim: Mum to EPPONNEE-RAE with her mum Kath

The bogan sophisticate is inching their way into the modern lexicon with ever so lovely made up, trendy and special names and pronunciations.  Chantelle is very French glamour for SHON-TEW.  Whilst a little bit 70's and 80's, we can still find a few lovely lasses called MISH-EW.

We're being assisted with some more anglicised spellings, thank you REN-AY and let's not confuse you with a Christmas song KARYL.

Inspiration comes from everywhere and I know you'd like your little fireball to be assertive and all, but BUFFY does not say vampire slayer, it says pole dancer/porn star.

That's just the girls.

Everyone knows that all the naughty boys are called 'B' names.  Bradley, Brendan (way back when), Braden, Ben (on occasion) and Brandon have all been on the bench outside the principal's office at one time or another.

Brayden/Kayden/Jayden can all skip the principal's office and go straight to jail.

The Toni/Tony confusion is mildly bearable if you're a girl but I'm sorry WILLOW, we now know you're a boy having been corrected by your mother. It must have been the pageboy haircut that caused the further confusion.

Peter Peterson, Michael Michaelson, John Johnson? You'd better work very hard or be very creative to avoid being likened to those that named you, who are either very lazy or have no imagination.

Are we really responsible enough to choose a name for our children that is not going to scar them for life?  Will the name you've lovingly selected (or invented) have them marginalised for its pomposity, weird spelling or gender confusion?  Is the name that you've chosen saying bogan, edgy, elitist (thank you Elizabeth), lazy or just plain dull?  Are you going for different, unusual or just nice?

Parents have got so many other things to be blamed for; is it fair to have a new exhausted parent, delirious from labour and nursery paint fumes, make a lifelong commitment on behalf of their child?

Perhaps names should be randomly allocated by a computer and children could choose their "real name" at eighteen.

Then you could simply blame the machine.  Just a thought.

Disclaimer:  I have an Italian name, with an anglicised pronunciation that no-one can spell and everyone pronounces the Italian way.  I am immune to the pain after these many years.  I share my names FRANCESCA MELANIE with the children of Deborah Kerr of "From Here to Eternity" and "The King & I" fame.  I can go a kiss in the surf as passionate as theirs when pressed.

Co-incidentally, Clint Eastwood, (shares a birthday with my brother) named his daughter Francesca after the protagonist in "Bridges of Madison County", played in the movie by the gorgeous, incomparable Meryl Streep.  Or maybe it was a tribute to Meryl.  Hmmm.

Hair salons are ideal places for sharing your thought on tattoos

I had my hair colour done this week by a young girl (aren't they all young) who tells me in the course of our conversation that she's twenty two.  This came about when I told her my husband's niece was only 22.  "That's how old I am" ... DONG! Foot in mouth and then slowly out again.

Our conversation was about tattoos and I was asking her about the rose tattoo she had on each shoulder.  She told me they were a tribute to her grandmothers, each who had passed away in the last few years.  For some reason I was compelled to share with her that I thought with tattoos, that there is a lot of pressure to choose the right design being that they're for life.  I went on.  My brother-in-law told my 'only 22' niece, who co-incidentally is a hairdresser, that she should consider what life would be like if she had to choose just one hairstyle for the rest of her life.  Big decision - what style would go well from 22 through to 85?  She was adequately swayed from rushing out to get that 'tramp stamp' she was so eager to get (and be included in the rather permanent fashion of the time).

My colourist said nothing.  I went on, getting that opinion firmly entrenched and of course believing when I had my foot in mouth that all about agreed with my no holds barred thoughts!  I relayed tales all the stupid tattoos friends and family had got and the regret they'd had.  Mind you, I do think that large angel wings and skeleton/muscle designs on the back are kind of cool.  "Yeah, I have angel wings with a heart in the middle on my back" offered my colourist.  Jesus wept!  This chick had at least 5 tattoos tucked under her regulation black salon cardi, she's just 22 and she's being rather kind with my rather unrestrained outburst of dislike for tattoos.

Time for an adjustment in direction.  What about body modification?  The earrings that stretch the ears into big holes?  No amount of laser is going to fix that are they?  "No, but mine shrink back when I take the rings out, so I don't think I'll need to get them sewn".  Shit!  She pulls back her hair and there's some small button-like earrings that I gather cover a reasonable sized hole.   Both left and right foot firmly in mouth, but it's just an opinion right?  Surely there is a code that says you can say what you damned well please at the hairdressers?  Or is that just me?

I ponder aloud (well I'm on a roll now... aren't I!) that tattoos are decorative, have often got sentimental links and the current mainstreaming of tattooing will open a burgeoning laser removal industry when Gen-Y finally get wrinkles, a mortgage and an interview with the private school principal on why little Ella and Madison should join their ranks.  However, the body modification, ear-stretching, nipple piercing, branding type carry-on (OK, I didn't say 'carry-on) is quite a different head-space with regard to aesthetics.  There seems to be a curiosity and almost a challenge as to how far you'll go with body modification, make it more intrinsically motivated act rather than aesthetically driven.

 Thankfully, my big feet and satellite foil hair were ushered to the wash basin.  End of story but I did feel a little sad for my new 22-year-old friend.  At 22 I was full of bravado, empowerment and "I'm beyond the age of consent, I've travelled the world, I pay taxes and I'm a bloody adult I tell you."  And now, not quite 20 years on, I look back and thank my lucky stars that I'm not nearly as cool, desperate to please and burdened with my 22-year-old tastes in clothes, men, body modification, tendency to smoke and drink Burbon & Coke (uurrgghhh... dear bogan of 22!).

What would I have got tattooed at 22?  Probably something lame like a rose on my shoulder or my hip.  Luckily, tramp stamps weren't around then.  I might have even got a Chinese symbol for "PERSEVERE" or something equally as dramatic and self-pitying.

What would I have tattooed at 40, should I be held at gunpoint, or sadly have a midlife crisis?!  Maybe my date of birth on my hip, just in case I was killed in a tsunami, or some darker eyebrows perhaps!!

For some poor lads in Queensland this week, drunken debauchery seems to be the impetus for branding each other's butts and unfortunately for them, they have a permanent reminder of their youth and a poorly judged mistake.

Tattoos .... reminder of who you are at a point of time or a shortsighted mistake?


This is a new blog ... I'm too erratic to get any followers but please feel free to comment (or follow).
If you follow, I might just post more!

This could be Heaven or this could be Hell

I thought that I'd start my first blog post with a really defensive comment like "I don't know what I'm doing", "I have no time for this, it's just an experiment because numerous people have asked me if I have a blog" but I'm not.  I'm going to say "Ta Da!!!! ....here it is!!!!"

I fiddled for ages with the name of the blog because all the good ones were taken.   "No Princess Here" was not an option and I didn't really want the "noprincesshere-fm" suggestion.  Eagles song lyrics seemed to have gripped me.  My favourite one, yet unavailable was "Pink Champagne on Ice".   I thought about the Eagles song that I sing every day, Take It Easy but 'seven women on my mind' just didn't seem relevant.  I do have seven women on my mind but didn't figure it was a blog specifically for lady lovers (not that there's anything wrong with that).

I used to joke at my old job (software development) that it was like Hotel California, "you can check out any time you like but you can never leave".  Eagles again.  OK, look up the lyrics on line, not that I can't sing the damn song verbatim.  Got Google, will bloody-well use it. And there it was...."voices down the corridor".....

So welcome to my blog, such a lovely place, such a lovely place .........