roundabout

You know, I feel very disappointed that several months after the ascension of St Kevin of the Good and Goodier, here at Chateau VVB we're still snarking about Alexander Downer. Really need to get over it, even if he does deserve all he gets.

But I don't believe in deleting posts just because I feel bad or ambivalent about them.

About a millennium ago I started to talk about a personal, an internal, journey that I was embarking on.

That was a blogwanky way of saying I wanted a new job, preferably one that rewarded heretofore unrecongnised wonderfulness with great galumphing gobs of folding stuff.

So we went to the outplacement service area of a firm of national headhunters, got scrutinised (quite well, actually) and worked up a brilliant new CV where my previous wonderfulness was rendered into recruiting noughties-speak.

Nothing happened after that, of course, because whatever was needed internally hadn't suddenly made itself apparent.

And, in what may well be analysed as an emerging list of ready-made excuses, we started to wonder whether gleaming new wonderfulness was all that enticing.

Anyway, fast-forward a few months along with the inevitable number of organisational changes and all of a sudden the opportunity emerges to go and do a job quite removed from my most recent experiences, the daily necessiities of management which differ only in complexity aside, of course.

It's all quite good fun and, with any luck, the opportunity will soon appear to keep doing it for a while.

The only downside is the inevitable periods of 'what's it all about' although, to be fair, there's probably lesss of that than if I had remained where I was.

'Making a difference' is such an overdone corporate slogan - my organisation had it for a while - that it has lost all meaning, yet surely it's what people really need to feel they doing in the increasing (hmmm? or not) amounts of time they spend at work.

Less about getting the new plasma (Chateau VVB still doesn't have a TV over 51 cm, isn't that the 1980s benchmark?), but seeing something happen as a result of your actions. For example, it'd be really nice to good with your hands so you can make something and see it work.

This half-hearted attempt to bore you all rigid while I write my way through a brief period of introspection brought to you by the AFL on TV and about 25 tonnes of dead sandflies, including several kg of them in my hair.

I'm getting a message...

Thinking of a musical reference for the post title brings a few tunes into my head, it's time to play a little guitar, let's have some Richard Clapton - Girls on the Avenue.

Cool, but unsuitable for a post title so we go to the classically trained and outrageously different super band Yes for how my brain works. Although it can't be any worse than Steve Howe and Jon Anderson's efforts:

Go closer hold the land feel partly no more than grains of sand
We stand to lose all time a thousand answers by in our hand
Next to your deeper fears we stand surrounded by million years.

Fortunately, they got better:

Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da
Da da da da daaa da da

All class.