Big Boats and Little Pleasures

You should know that I don't actually spend that much time on the titles to these pieces. Shocking I know.

My first issue is a wee bit of concern that Sydney seems to have ground to a complete halt over the last 48 hours, and the reason is.... that a really bloody big cruise ship that none of us except fingers will be able to afford or wish to travel on, and a slightly smaller cruise ship that none of us except fingers will be able to afford or wish to travel on, are in town at the same time. I even heard people on the radio yesterday talking about how they will tell their children about this. Hello? They are fucking cruise ships. Big, ugly, floating Vegas Hotels for very well to do types who can't be arsed having a real holiday.

I realise that this will be the second coming of Christ to the ship-spotters out there, but can the rest of the slightly more normal people please do a self-evaluation and get themselves a life that doesn't involve having to clog the streets of Sydney for hours to take a photo of a big ship. Download it, for the love of god, and keep out of our way.

On to other things now (I feel better already). I am aware that this next bit is set up for fingers and Mel to hit out of the park, I am hoping they will do so with suitable panache.

I had a fantastic weekend, and no it wasn't spent surfing porn and writing my latest fantasy novel. I did other stuff too. I had a dinner party Saturday night, and actually gave myself enough time on Saturday to enjoy the fact. I cooked some stuff I hadn't done before, and some that I had. I wandered around the Fish Markets in the morning (I sadly really enjoy it there - something to do with never being able to afford seafood as a student still makes it somehow special) and spent the afternoon cooking and preparing. It went fantastically well - the food went down a treat (yes I know that dinner guests will usually say that a defrosted lasagne is a culinary revolution, but hey) and I had great fun with friends enjoying a decent meal. Why don't we do this more often?

Credit where it is due though. I wanted to use watermelon as it is so good right now. I somehow stumbled on Spiceblog and stole the Nannygai with Watermelon Salad recipe - it was fantastic. And how cool are those photos?

Ok, enough self-emasculation. Just a reminder to myself that time with friends is the best time. Doing something that they appreciate - even better....

Da Supabowl

Due to overwhelming demand (SB posted once), here is my post on the Superbowl. Please bear with me (lol, you will get it later) as I may have to recount some information that will of course be patently obvious to all of you, but this is the price we must pay to cater to the vast and diverse multicultural and socio-economic melange that is my readership.

The Superbowl was played between 2 teams that each have claims to underdog status, the Indianapolis Colts and the Chicago Bears. A little background on each...

The Colts

For the last few years, the Colts have been consistent in not quite making it first past the post. While certainly thoroughbreds, they have struggled to clinch playoff victories - often falling at the feet of their nemesis, the New England Patriots. They have been more your Andalusians than your Arabians - all very well in the fancy footwork department and the looking good, but when it came down to it, not quite your Lawrence of Arabia battling types.

This year was different. They took the bit between their teeth and overcame the Patriots in a playoff upset with a late victory 38 to 34 to make it to the Superbowl. This was the race between 2 quarterback posterboys - Tom Brady of the Pats and Peyton Manning of the Colts. Manning has a reputation as something of a choker in playoff games, but here he responded to the whip and carried them to victory.

Da Beeahs

The Bears play in the NFC North division, the same division as my beloved Minnesota Vikings. This may imply some hidden bias on my part, but I beg to differ. I openly don't like the Bears, there is no hiding about it. I fondly remember the days when they were the laughing stock of the division, and were completely hopeless. Sadly ever cub must one day grow and so the Bears have developed into a formidable force - poles apart from the Vikes, who now suck the big one. Anyway, enough about the Vikes....

Bears fans have had a black time of it, and while the sun has come out from behind the clouds this year, there have been reasons to avoid creating a spectacle. They defeated the New Orleans Saints, who were anointed as ‘America’s Team’ after the Hurricane that decimated the area not so long ago, to make it to the Bowl game. However this was a narrow victory. The Bears quarterback, Rex Grossman, has been both woeful and wonderful – polar performances during the season. If he had a good game, so would the Bears, if not, it seemed the game would pander to recent history…

The Game

This was touted as a game of contrasting styles – the Bears play tough defence, the Colts a spectacular offence based on Manning throwing the ball a lot.

I took the day off (as one does) to watch the game with my mate Greg. He lived in NY for a while, and loves the NFL. Mind you he supports the Miami Dolphins, and this year they were if anything even worse than the Vikings, which is saying something. Anyway, enough about the Vikes…

It was a sunny day in Sydney but raining cats and dogs in Miami, where the Superbowl was held. This made it an ideal day for us to spend in front of the TV watching a game that manages to take about 3 and a half hours to complete one hour of playing time.

After a relatively civilized kick off time of around 10.30 am (for us, not them), the first touch of the ball resulted in a touchdown kick-off return by Chicago, and we settled in for a wild game. Sadly, as it was as wet as last Saturday night over there, the first half saw a whole lot of fumbles and interceptions, and by half time the Colts were up 16 to 14. The good news is that being a close scoreline, there wasn’t a clear favourite, even though the Colts were probably preferred if leading. The better news is that Greg had proper hot dogs for lunch for us, complete with sweet mustard, onions and tomato sauce (no Mel, it isn’t ketchup). I had of course supplied various munchies including pretzels etc. It is hungry work watching all that sport. For the record I did not for a moment think of all those poor people actually working that day. Oh, except for the 6 times I received calls from said people with whom I work. I was most receptive to those calls.

The second half commenced and we settled in as the rain got heavier in Miami. The all too infrequent shots of the Colts Cheerleaders were even disheartening as their normally perfect presentation was more a congregation of completely drenched, flawlessly tanned, incredibly lithe and scantily clad rats. Their hair stylists must have been beside themselves…

Rex Grossman was just that, and played worse and worse to the point where the Colts ran out comfortable winners 29 to 17. Peyton Manning, after so many years of question marks, finally had a Superbowl ring. His mum must be so proud.

Filled with inspiration, we then jumped on the Playstation to battle it out at Madden. I am pleased to say that I inflicted a sound drubbing to the tune of 60 to 27. If only I could coach the Vikes…

Update

I was very touched to note fingers’ concern as to the progress of my love life, not to mention Southern Belle’s slightly more genuine interest.

Please allow me to bring you up to date. At catch-up drinks with some of the Punters a few weeks back, I made the mistake of telling fingers about a very attractive barmaid at the establishment at which we were drinking – the Bank in Newtown.

Said barmaid was very cute and made a damn fine martini – dirty gin martini, of course. She and I had admittedly brief but fun discussions about the merits of the Tanqueray martini vs the Bombay Sapphire martini. Yes, it is a tough life. To the uneducated eye (ie that of an Australian male – despite what we try to tell you, we really don’t get girls at all, then again, like you girls don’t already know that), she might even have been flirting with me, and the drinks were very, very cheap. For the purpose of this story, let’s call her Cute Martini Girl.

The martinis were had on Christmas Eve, a Sunday night. I may or may not have been back to the Bank a few times since (it is after all the newest bar in town and this has nothing to do with cute bar staff in general or CMG in particular), but never on a Sunday night. I didn’t see CMG on any of those occasions.

Let’s skip forward in time, mainly because we can and it is a narrative tool of which I don’t make enough use. Let’s imagine that a week or 2 ago I just happened to be walking past the Bank on a Sunday evening, when it occurred to me that nothing would help my basketball game later that evening than a martini or 2. The Bank looked busy, but this is never a bad thing, so I wandered in, and may have been paying more attention to the staff at the various bars than anything else.

After a while I started to note the preponderance of very fit boys with short hair, tight singlets, short shorts and fake tan. Now I live in Newtown, so this isn’t a matter for note, except for this: They are even less subtle about checking out each other than chicks are. It shall suffice to say that it isn’t altogether fun to:

• Be stuck at the back of a pub that is completely chockers
  
• Have to fight your way back through the crowd of gayboys who have all just checked you out and then done the face that fairly clearly communicates something to the effect of “Ooh, hi sweety, I think you have come to the wrong place, because the ‘former rugby player past his prime’ look isn’t working for me. Oh, and what is that t-shirt?”
  
• Realising that the CMG who was the sole reason for going there in the first place isn’t there anyway.
  

Even doing the “I am just looking for my friends and I am astonished and slightly perplexed that they aren’t here yet” face as I struggled past all those rippling orange bodies wasn’t helping.

So to answer your question fingers, no, I haven’t seen the CMG again.

SB, the girls are already looking out as they are doing a good job of hiding.

The good news is, I can always make a dirty martini at home… as I don’t think Sunday evening at the Bank is an option.