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I had set out to take three weeks long service leave for the purpose of a good rest. The weather was as hot as Hades for most of it, though those in-between days when the cool change came like a doctor from the south were bliss. Walks to the Pier and Church Street, a bit of writing in the morning and some photography in the afternoon. Sometimes a nap at 3 p.m. It was in the last week that I finally got into the groove of it all. A matter of the law
There has been a darker element residing two doors down the street. Of course my break didn't mean all sunshine and melody. My life just isn't like that ! For three months now, myself and Miss Maude, along with the surrounding neighbors have had an ongoing legal and sometimes emotional battle with a cafe/bar. it's as if you came home one day to discover your neighbor was running a noisy, smoky beer garden next door, which went till 1.30 am in the morning, every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night. With no planning or liquor license, these cowboys, who were really just young, inept children, had to deal with the full force of the law, when it eventually caught up with them. Our complaints to the Council and the Police fell on deaf ears. That was until a higher authority intercepted. MONEY. A wealthy neighbor decided to take matters into his own hands, using his own solicitor, the Council's ears pricked up, knowing full well the consequences of non-action. The last week of the break saw me at VCAT, as an applicant with the Bayside Council vs. the restaurant. Three nervous and inarticulate young men were at a loss on what to say or do. The Judge; a James Mason type, made them feel even smaller. There was an undertaking of enforcement, which a week later was broken and the following week also. Then the shit hit the fan. A raid by Liquor licensing and out -of -Towner cops. The Manager ran past them all, jumping in his car and pissing off, unable to be contacted. It's been nice and quiet now for a month. Last week i was caught off-guard by the rat-like owner, approaching me on the street, warning me, "You are messing with the wrong people" Pigs Under the Bridge.
After the threat, I went to the cops, though I wasn't expecting much considering the "friendly" relationship with the restaurant. The previous raid by the local precinct had revealed no evidence. It was the surprise visit the next station down that brought upon there demise. News from Geekland My computer was Fxxxxxd.....err stuffed, for two weeks. A file swapping problem with WIN 95 - 98' upgrade, plus the video card was shagged. I decided I wanted all my main graphic applications running in there own environment. WIN NT4 was installed. With a Zip drive loaned from a friend, I backed up 300 meg of personal files. What a bastard of a job ! I then had the dramas of de-bugging the new platform for three days. It's only yesterday that I re-installed everything. What a difference it has all made, considering I run a 200 MMX machine with 64 meg of RAM. Then again, it's only a fucking computer. Yeah right. I'm living with a master Chef Do you know I'm living with a Master Chef ? I have Phlegm Bag syndrome again....a shocker of a cold. Came on with monstrous aches and pains then a sore throat. I went to the local quack, as I arrived, there was an Ambulance out the front. When I got inside a prone and pale figure of a young man was being wheeled out before me. The young quack had his rubber gloves on removing spew and blood from the surgery. It was a case of a bad ulcer too many hours at work and an hour of sleep per night. I said to the quack, "yeah, there's a lot of it around" A kooky German dude practiced some Laser therapy on my shoulder. He kept on asking me, "Are you into the body beautiful ?" I said, "Huh....what the fuck ?????" A skinny arsed bastard like me ? I don't think so. The dude used this thing that looked like a stage microphone. Pulsing out needle like feelings into my shoulder and neck. It worked wonders on my shoulder, though when used on my neck it made me see stars. Anyhow as I said, I'm living with a master chef. Miss Maude has been an integral part of the healing process, with wonderful soothing broths and exotic foods from Middle Asia and Europe. I'm a content little Buddha. Though lucky I'm a reclining one. If I was standing, the Taliban would of destroyed me by now.
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