Kicking my own arse

Hi,
I tend to have addictions.

Not major, romantic, sex, drugs and rock and roll addictions, none of those Shellyesque Absinthe fuelled coke nose tumbles into the dark abyss of depravity for me.

My addictions are short lived, and kind of shit.

What, I fondly imagine you asking, do you mean Mike?

I will give you an example. Civilization Revolutions on the X-Box 360. I bought this for my Son at Christmas. I have never been into consoles, I like using a PC for gaming, and I like RTS games such as Civilization and Rome-Total War. This game, however, has me hooked. So much so that if I don't play it daily, I get cranky. I know the signs, and there is only 1 cure.

Go cold turkey.

Other examples? Reading. I go through phases where I will read 5 or 6 books one after another over a week or so, becoming totally anti-social and uncommunicative. Again only 1 cure. Cold Turkey.

I once watched all 8 series of Red Dwarf back to back in one sitting. Same goes for Firefly and the 3 Lord of the Rings films.

I have been known to clean the wheels of my car with a toothbrush. and then not clean it for 6 months. I once ate porridge for breakfast for 4 months back to back. I then didn't touch it for 6 months, and then did the same thing over again.

I spent a year on 360 putting 2 sometimes 3 blogs a week on. Since I have been on Multiply, I struggle to find enough to say from one month to the next.

I used to train 8 times a week. I can't be asked now, and I am beginning to hate myself for it. Still, there is always next week eh?

Music was my life, but lately it has lost the draw for me. I still play, but the excitement has gone, and I am scared other people can hear it in my playing.

I need a kick in the arse, the only one who can do that is me, but I don't know if I still posses the flexibility to do it.

Oh Well...

In more exciting news, my son and I went to the local car show here in Hastings. One of the more bizarre things about NZ is that, as cars were always imported, and as the protectionist Government put huge tariffs on the imports, cars were bloody expensive. If you could afford one, you looked after it!

Hence, go to a NZ classic car show and you will see a greater variety, age range and rarity of old US & European and Australian iron than in the UK anywhere. I saw DeSoto's Caddy's Buicks, old Fords, Pontiacs, Jaguars, Merc's, Porshes, Rileys, Rollers, Bentleys, Mustangs, Daimlers and a Jowett Javelin. There were Triumphs, Rovers, Beetles, Morris' MG's Fiats, Lancias, Alfa Romeo's and a Ferrari. And here lies my tale.

I love Ferrari's. I love their shape, their cachet, their mojo and their total pursuit of one goal. To make the best handling car there is. Form follows function and the form is drop dead gorgeous. Now as a kid, the Ferrari of choice was the 308GTB. It is stunningly gorgeous, small, nimble and as fast as a cat with its balls on fire. So when I saw a beautiful purple example at this show, I had to take a look. Ieuan breathed "Dad...its a Ferrari!" as we approached. Lo and behold my mate Jamie is standing by it. Jamie is a classic car nut, and owns a couple of old British cars from the 1930's.

Hi Jamie, said I, you bought a Ferrari? Yes said Jamie, "hahaha" said I, "No. I bought this car. I have sold all my other cars and re mortgaged the house to buy this Ferrari". Shit....spot on bro!

Ieuan is looking at the car, grinning like a loon. "Do you want to sit in it Ieuan?" said Jamie "aowkk!!" said Ieuan, so Jamie opens up the car, and Ieuan sits in the cockpit, grinning like his face is coming off. "Grab hold of the wheel" Ieuan reaches forward slowly and touches the wheel on both sides, between his first finger and thumb, like he was picking up an egg! We laughed, because it was soo cute!

Ieuan, since that day, every hour or so says to Jacqui "I can't believe My Father knows someone who own a Ferrari!" I am cool by association!!

Be Good