Monday, 8 August 2011

Joining the technological age, starring BATM

Scene: Large, noisy appliance store, with sale signs plastered to every available surface and 37 different stereos playing different songs - from the soft-porn genre that is Rihanna and Britney.

Enter stage left, AMY, heavily pregnant and resembling a puffer fish, and BRUCE, with a cell phone attached to his belt (says it all really).

Amy: Okay, so these here are the laptops.

Bruce: *wanders off to look at dryers*

Amy: *sighs heavily*

Amy: Now because all you want to do is check out golf tee times at the local club, you don't need anything flash.

Bruce: why does this keyboard have numbers up the top AND on the right?

Amy: Just because.

Bruce: So the lid on this closes by pulling it DOWN, I see.....

Amy: They all do that.

Bruce: And does this one have that maps thing you were showing me?

Amy: Google Maps? Yes.

Bruce: Does THIS one?


Bruce: *seeing one within his budget* I'll just get that one.

Amy: Good choice. Now you need an Internet Provider. How do you want to connect to the internet? Broadband? With a stick thing? Dial up?

Bruce: *blank look*

Amy: Well, how does your girlfriend connect to the net?

Bruce: *mimes typing on a keyboard*

Amy: Oooooookay.

Bruce: Show me how I can Google on this. What do you call it. Googling?

Amy: Well, just pottering around is really called Surfing the Net. Using Google. Which is a search engine using a browser.....*sees she lost him* Anyway let's just get this and then you can visit Telecom and sort out your internet connection.

Bruce, thinking: But I want my pony NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW!

Amy, reading his mind: It's not an instant need to get the connection sorted THEN you can Google all your golf results.

Bruce: Humph. Can you come over this weekend and show me stuff?

Amy: Sure, if I haven't, you know, GIVEN BIRTH TO YOUR GRANDCHILD BY THEN.

Bruce, thinking: always with the excuses......


Monday, 1 August 2011

If anything can bring me out of a blogging hiatus, it's BATM*

My father lost his mother 18 months ago (not like lost her in a mall, she died) and I think has become somewhat aware of his own mortality since. I have seen more of him in the last few months than I ever have - and we live in the same town. Don't get me wrong, I think it's great. I've said it before and I'll say it again....he's a unique individual.


Me: Hello?

Dad: It's your father.

Me: Oh hey Dad, how was Aussie?

Dad: Oh I got back ages ago. (last weekend). What are you doing tomorrow? Do you need any trees chopped down?(my Dad is OB-SESSED - I cannot state this enough - with pruning trees. It wouldn't surprise me to see him on the news for chopping down trees in a municipal park if they were blocking sun).

Me: Ah no. We've had all our trees pruned already.

Dad: silently hurt.

Me: BUT! We are tidying the washing line area - do you want to help out there?

Dad: I'll be round tomorrow afternoon.

Upon his arrival, he directs the truck delivering river stones and fusses around the unloading of them. This takes all of ten seconds. He then wanders around the garden checking things out.

Dad, all disappointed: It's really neat and tidy!

Me: Sorry. You can waterblast the fence if you want to? We want to paint it.

Dad: *visibly brightens*

Me: let's have a cuppa.

Settled with a cuppa and a slice, Dad proceeds to give me a blow-by-blow account of yesterday's Steamers game vs Wellington, or someone.

Dad: "......the ball went forward....this wing out of try I'd ever seen....."

My mind: "bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

Me: "so my bestie had her baby on Friday....."

Dad's mind: "bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz"

Me: Do you want to see the nursery?

Dad: sigh. Okay.

He spends 10 minutes admiring the buggy and its ability to move the baby around on wheels.

Me: I made this blanket.....this was a present from a friend.....aren't these booties cute...

Dad: So how does the capsule click on? What does this zip do? Does this hood move?

Me: What do you think of this cot mobile I made from paint charts?

Dad: I really want to buy a computer so I can look at my golf stuff on the internet. Can you meet me next week and help me buy one? Then give me lessons? Say, an hour a day?

Me: Um. Well, I'm gonna be kinda busy soon, but I definitely can help you buy a computer.

Dad: Excellent. Well, best be off.

*When Dad was asked what he wanted to be called for his Grandfatherly title, he thought for 2 seconds and said 'Brucie at the Mount'. My sister giggled and said, no really, what. Poppa, Grandpa? He repeated, 'Brucie at the Mount'. So Brucie at the Mount it is.