Rear window rambler

“My Sharona” is blaring from the block of flats across the eastern way. Woo hoo, rock on Tommy and hot damn. I think i’ll peek out the window to see if I can see any bopping.

I won’t cop an eyeful of “shit happens guy” nude today because there is a week’s worth of bath towels hanging out to dry on his flat’s balcony, thus concealing the windows to his flat's sitting nude room area. If it really worried me, the nudity, I could always keep my blind down I suppose. But of course it doesn't, i'm a naturist from way back, don't ye know. Dude has a lot of good times in his flat, I can tell by the impressive stash of empty brown long necks that are lined up against his kitchen’s window. Hell, he ain’t a closeted dipso, shuffling down to the block’s recycle bins with a ginormous paper bag full of empties. No, he’s out and he’s proud, good on him.

So what’s the buzz, shall I tell you what’s been a happening? Am I a fool to think you’d want to know? Well not much and yes I am and of course you do.

Crazy week at work, deadlines, last minute requests and inane questions left, right and centre, and no it wasn’t muggins here posing them, ok. I was fit to burst last night and then I visited my parents to help my father with his computer. Was I any help, ask him. It was a curious evening but I did actually sleep very well.

During the week I went and saw Matchpoint. Hmm. Generally quite good, didn’t like one single character, I doubt you were meant to like them, they were horrid, well I was sort of sympathetic towards the Nola Rice character, and as for the rest, " the creamy English charm” of that upper class family, the spineless, pampered children and their controlling parents. So vile that my neck and shoulders are still really stiff from hunching in disgust while viewing. I think my irritation with them and their accents, their excessive consumption, snobbery, condescension, complacency and insensitivity, distracted me from just appreciating the story, which was rather Highsmithian, quite good, well, ok, um, perhaps you should just wait until dvd. The last half hour got a bit much, I did need to go to the toilet but didn’t want to miss the murder and resolution so I was probably getting a bit toey, i.e. madly twitchy and impatient. After the build up to the murder, things became a bit drawn out, really, post mortem, the hammy detectives and that subplot - lameO, and some of the lines and the delivery, particularly in the scene between the victims and the murderer’s conscience, oh man and to hear murderer respond with “as Sophocles said………”.

As soon as the credits rolled I had to bolt and then as I raced down the concrete stairs to the cavernous depths of the isolated basement bathroom, became overcome with guilt, and a bit of terror, imagining a murderer could lurk and pounce. That type of film always makes me grapple with my conscience and I have to do a stop check to assuage the guilt. No, you haven’t committed a murder, no, you haven’t done that, well, not for 20 years, nor that, check, that doesn’t count, check. The only things that i care to come to mind include a fair bit of internet surfing at work the week before and even blogging there, and the purchase of a couple of dresses in the past month, but they were very reasonably priced, on sale, and first new items of clothing i'd bought in 8 months. I still managed to be on the verge of conniptions central but fortunately was with someone so we went out to dinner and drank some wine which always soothes the Guilty feet ain’t got no rhythm syndrome.

But what is with that? the Guilty feet ain’t got no rhythm, I mean, the feet while guilty must still have rhythm mustn’t they? Double negative equals a positive doesn’t it? And is that applicable to all things in life. If you were the product of two positive parents would you be a negative personality and would two negative parents produce a positive child, well perhaps not, look at George Costanza, and if it’s a mixed coupling, i.e. negative with a positive, are all progeny spazdual - swingin’ on high only to plummet to despair personalities. So perhaps opposites shouldn’t attract then but isn't that better than two positives attracting and producing a negative?

As Maria the nun/governess/stepmother to von trapp kiddies said to Mother Superior, “ohhhhhhhh, I don’t knohhw…………………”

However, it is something for you to all ponder over your weekend, and then please phone Sandy McCutcheon about it on Monday night’s Australia talks back, I hear his producers have no idea what Sandy should discuss next week. And life matters has a surfeit of themes and isssewes so don't go bothering them.

Over and spun out.


actually i think the line is guilty feet have got no rhythm, so those feet are definitely unco. I think you can still phone Radio National about the positive negative parent conundrum though, and have a lot of lengthy anecdotes ready, they are really hard up for stories this coming week.