What’s in a name?


Why is it that so many people insist on wearing their name badges from the seminar they are attending out onto the street for one and all to see? The only valid reason that springs to mind is that these people are in desperate need of a date and would like to be asked out for a coffee or lunch. Better still, perhaps a night out on the town and then a raunchy weekend for two.

But that is more than likely my imagination running rampant once again. It is more likely that they are too lazy to remove their badges and pin them back on once they return to the seminar.

One such badge caught my attention one day as I wandered the city streets in search of nothing in particular. It was when I stopped at a set of traffic lights and I caught sight of the very large badge pinned to his multi-striped shirt. Actually, it wasn’t the badge that really caught my attention, but it was his name that made me smirk.

The badge read ‘Timmy Smelles’. Not that there is anything wrong with his name, but you would think that he wouldn’t try and live up to his surname.

Even though it was a warm day, I wouldn’t say it was what one would call sweating weather. But Timmy had different ideas. Not only was he sweating, he smelt as he had been sweating for more than a few minutes. Nothing that a stick of anti-perspirent wouldn’t fix, or at least go half way to making him smell a bit better.

Well, that’s my spin on the situation anyway.

On another note in regards to name tags, I only just found out that name tags should be pinned onto the right hand side of the body and not the left, where most people tend to pin them.

The logic behind this is clear and simple (once it has been explained). When someone introduces themselves, they shake with their right hand. The line of vision will automatically follow the arm and stop at their name tag, making it easier for identification.

I should thank the little lady of the house for that bit of information. I can’t take credit for everything. Now can I?

The Missing Fit Ball

The weather in Melbourne over the last summer could only be considered as hot as hell. So as another hot and steamy afternoon closed in for the day, I rocked up home and got ready for what was going to be a hot and sweaty workout. The thought of heading out for a long run really didn’t appeal to me, and considering the road bike hadn’t had all that much attention in the past few months, it was a safe bet that it would be covered in cobwebs and would require some TLC before it hit the bitumen.

The other option was to exercise indoors. A better option, but still a very hot option. So as I changed into my sports gear, I decided to use the garage for my workout, all I had to do was hook up the punching bag, drag a few weights outside for a circuit workout and roll out the gym fit ball. It would be cooler and I could relieve some pent up frustrations on the ol’ bag.


So with everything setup, I started my routine. All went well for the first twenty or so minutes, it was then that I went to use the fit ball. It was gone. I knew I had left it next to the garage door when I started, but it was nowhere to be seen.

It quickly dawned on me that the bloody thing had rolled down the driveway and out onto the street. I yelled out to the boys and told them to go looking of the big blue ball. How hard was it going to be to spot something as big as that? Really!

Well, it seems that it was going to be harder to find that what I thought. The boys looked down the street, up the next one and down a few more blocks. Even though the streets are very hilly, the thing had to stop somewhere. And I guess it did stop somewhere. That would be the very same place that it was picked up and taken to another home.

I am now minus one fit ball and kinda annoyed that I let that one slip away from me, but then, I needed an excuse to buy a better one, but never did I think I could actually lose something that big.

Anyway, the workout was good, not as hot and sweaty as it would have been if I had been indoors. If there is a lesson to learn from this, I will work it out soon enough, and when I do, I will let you all know.

Looks Can be Deceiving

The acrid smell of burning rubber filled the air as the sound of screeching tyres reverberated in my ears. Clouds of black and grey pungent smoke filled the surrounding area and gently floated skywards, blocking out the wonderful sunshine and the blue clear cloudless sky. Many bystanders and I watched in bewilderment and absolute amusement as the hotted up black Mustang left thick strips of rubber on the hot and soft asphalt as it moved swiftly into its un-allocated spot, a car spot which another vehicle was ready to move into from the other direction.

Not wanting to lose his car spot to another young lout, the young man stepped out of his small and compact car and casually sauntered over to the now idling mean machine. Not being able to see the occupant of the car because of its ultra dark tinted windows, the young man squared his shoulders, puffed his chest out and raised his chin. He gave his long jet-black and slightly oily hair a flick and subtly adjusted his sunglasses that were perched atop of his rather crooked nose. His muscular shoulders and huge biceps were clearly visible and fully pumped. He was now ready to approach the unknown menace in the car that had quite rudely taken his car spot, a car spot that he had patiently waited for while its previous owner had very slowly and rather precariously backed out of.

The loud rumbling noise ceased as the occupant of the Mustang switched the ignition off, the bonnet stopped shaking and the fumes from its twin exhaust system eventually stopped. The young man rapped on the driver’s side window and peered inside with a menacing look on his face, his fists clenched so tightly that they shook with rage. The door opened slightly and the young man took a few quick steps backwards and awaited his rival. Beads of sweat that had formed across his forehead were now dripping down his cheeks and over his nose.

With the car door fully open, the driver cautiously stepped out and stood up, the small elderly woman straightened up and gave the young man a charming smile. The now perplexed young man stared straight into the little woman’s eyes and held the stare for what seemed an eternity. He muttered a few words and no other choice, he quietly slunk back to his still idling car and took off in search of another car spot.


A Touch of Generosity

It’s the small things that people do that make them stand out from the rest. And that’s what made this 100km ride even better. 
After 80kms one of the guys dropped back from the group and was losing touch. I don’t like being left behind so I eased off and stayed with him. 
Once we got to some shade, we stopped off for a bite to eat and a drink. It was there that a young mother came out from her house and asked it we wanted our water bottles refilled with ice water. We both accepted the offer and then continued on our way. Bottles filled with ice water and blocks of ice.
It made riding the remainder 20kms so much easier and ensured I had a smile on my face.  

It’s the simple things that keep my faith in people. This act proved my point.