Tag: kids

Faster than snakes with a ball and a chain – 9th February 2018

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

See you later Adelaide, I couldn’t wait to leave you.

I got a taxi to the airport, three hours before take off.  I just couldn’t sit around at the house, waiting.  It was time to start the journey even if that meant sitting and reading my book at the airport for a couple of hours.

I will miss you slightly, in that comfort of a regimen of work and sleep, preparing for these next precipitous steps, uncomfortable dread gnawing at me.

A zip and snooze and I’m landing in Brisbane as the sun sets back nearer Adelaide.  My son, Hayden, is waiting for me with a big hug and we get lost in the maze of car parks and lifts, assisting others who are similarly lost.

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Brisbane is the opposite of Adelaide in road layout, it’s a mess, made messier by the winding river running through it.  It also makes it more interesting immediately.

We arrive at our apartment, ablute, and then search for food.  Opting for takeaway burgers and beer, we sit and talk for an hour or so before hitting the sack in my first decent bed for many months.  Blissful rest with crazy dreams.

It’s interesting to watch Hayden finding his way in the world.  I am now at the point where I just have no idea what ‘teh kids’ (as I call them, on purpose typo) are into these days.  Popular culture was never my thing and though Hayden has his own interests outside popular culture at least he still understands all those current references.

I’m really only interested in old bookshops and reading about history, trying to get a better understanding how we are where we are.  No longer being in the now, doing the do.

But I know I must do the do again when reaching Thailand and I was visualising a day in my life there.  Riding a motorcycle to school to teach English, I want to feel that thrill on the new, fill myself with the wonder of ‘how did my life end up here – that’s just amazing!’  But then also wanting it to feel familiar again, something normal, but not get to the point of a rat race boredom.  A balance is something I would like to strike and something I feel like I’ve never been able to achieve.  Like sitting still, very fast.  Maybe it’s just the way I’m wired.

Today we went book shopping and found a great store called Archives.  If I had the time I would’ve spent so long looking through here but opted instead just to ask at the counter for a couple of books I remembered being interested in finding.  Sometimes I think it’s just a little game of something to do in a place, with the possibility of a little reward at the end.  Like setting a little goal for the day.  The assistant took me straight to two of the books I asked about and I was amazed that she knew them immediately and where they were located.  If I ran a bookshop that’s how I would want to be, knowing exactly what you have and where it is.

The only problem with these two books is that they are both massive and heavy.  Hayden and I struck a deal that he will bring them to me later in the year or wherever it is that he gets chance to visit us in Thailand.  I have enough to read already so no hurry really.

I used to hate reading, sometimes would force myself to read books just for the hell of it.  Somewhere along the way I’ve just found myself enjoying it more.  I read, and have always read, lots of comics, usually alternative and mature comics rather than superhero type stuff, though I am now going through old 60s and 70s Marvel.  I’m not sure what the appeal to me is really?  Maybe getting lost in those world with some hints of visuals perhaps, as I generally only read non-fiction books otherwise.  I actually would like to read more fiction too and get lost in those worlds but somehow real life books are just what is interesting to me these days.

This afternoon I will attempt to write a small piece for my mothers funeral.  I have an idea for it, just a small event which sums up her attitude to life and dealing with problems.

Having Hayden around is distracting me from thinking about my mum not being there to talk to.  I really want to show her today’s pictures of our house, but showed them to him instead.

Hayden is a typical early 20s guy I guess, with what people my age might consider strange ideas, thoughts or views on events in the world.  He does, however, have his head screwed on and shows a lot of empathy a lot of the time.  When I think back to my life at his age I was the same, finding my way, honing my opinions and beliefs.  I discussed this with him today and said I thought that every parent wants their children to gain the wisdom they themselves now have, faster than they did.  To get smarter, quicker.  However, being a parent, being older, you also know that that is not how it works.  You can nudge in certain directions but one can only grow under their own directives.  When Hayden is ready, he will be.  He’s happy enough and figuring it out.

 

Going off! – 22nd May 2011

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Chatswood Youth Centre went off last night, rammed with kids!

13th May 2011 – Not sure who was playing and I was probably just passing by to grab some dinner but it was great to see kids coming out to check out the music and for a while, shows were happening there almost once a month. Picture is taken from a video of Legions playing there at some other time.

As we went warp factor two and I met all of the crew – 8th November 1994

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Look in through my eyes. A story. A true story.

We ran down the hall to the front door, laughing and giggling. She collapsed in a ragged heap on her knees and hung like a floppy doll. I caught her and put my arms round her and she giggled some more. She looked up at me, our faces upside down to each other, and pushed the t shirt that she was holding in her tiny smooth hands into my face and once again giggled.

‘Where’s Gabrie gone’?’ I sputtered into the shirt in my half blindness. She laughed and took the shirt away and her face, still upside down, but closer, radiated happiness through her soft red cheeks, her lightly blond hair cushioning her beauty like a halo.

She looked up and into my eyes and fixed her stare, drilling into me. I was mesmerised and saw the pretty fractal patterns in her steely grey blue irises. For five long seconds, that lasted five long minutes, when the world stopped around us, we were both transfixed with not a blink, a flicker or even a thought until within a split second of each other we both fell about in a giggling heap and then we were off again, up and down the hall. Me and Gabrie.

Gabrielle is five years old, a real cute kid and as her name suggests, very angelic. She will, I’m sure break many hearts when she is older. She’s C_ and P_’s only daughter. C_ being the eldest of the Smith generation that Broni belongs to. Gabrie has four brothers and the story happened at their house. It was a weird feeling looking into those young child eyes, I wondered what was going through her head and I wondered what was going through mine.

It reminds me now of those episodes of Star Trek where Captain Kirk or Doctor McCoy would come across some human shaped aliens on some remote planet and they would say ‘no, no, don’t look into their eyes, they’ve got you if you look into their eyes!’

So, we ended up at their house like this. On Saturday we went to Libby’s and Doug’s, taking with us a spinach quiche and two bottles of champagne, as we always get well fed there we thought it only fair we bring some of our own. After they put little Reg and tall Gough to bed we set about eating, drinking, smoking and playing the night away, playing fun party games like we played in England at Chrissy’s place. At about half two and ten beers later we all collapsed to sleep.

Of course, just like at Chrissy’s, the kids woke us up early and jumped all over our hangovers. Very slowly we woke up, and woke up and woke up some more and then me and Bonz headed into Hyde Park where we watched the fountain water get swirled and thrown about by the high winds, which would later turn into gale force conditions causing much damage from Tasmania to Brisbane, which is a hell of a long way.

We knew C_and P_ would be in St. Mary’s church watching their second son, Michael singing in the choir. So, with about fifteen minutes of the service to go we walked over and round the side of this big old building, which lends itself to the old architecture that St. Pauls was designed by (not being big on architectural history you understand), in the side door where the ceiling rose into a cavernous gloom despite the odd floodlight here and there. It was indeed a very beautiful place and I wondered whether people felt closer to god the bigger the building they were in? Heavenly voices echoed around the room (is it called a room, it sounds too ordinary for the size and manner of this interior) coming from somewhere behind the altar (not big on church lay out either as you can tell!) where a choir in red and white robes stood, though we were too far away in this stadium (yes that’s a good word!) to see their mouths moving, the song they were singing was very beautiful and understated, a bit like a sighing Gregorian chant and well suited to these surroundings but not like a typical hymn idea which would’ve turned me off right away.

Broni laughed at the robes saying Michael probably had a t-shirt and beach shorts on underneath them and something that I have noticed here is a different kind of attitude in general by all the people living here but two things that centre around the church particularly highlight this.

First is something Broni said happened at her church when she was growing up was that they had a sweepstake for the Melbourne Cup horse racing (big event when all Australia stops to watch) which I couldn’t quite get to grips with the church okaying gambling, the second was just a small thing was that some kid in St. Mary’s that day was wearing a Dead Kennedys t-shirt which was a contrast of statements. So I guess it just means people are a bit more relaxed attitude wise, which is cool by me.

P_ was there with all the kids and this was my first encounter with little Gabrie as I carried her back to the car, she very politely told me she didn’t like my hat to which I promised to do something about! P_ offered us a lift to their house which was halfway to our goal of Ch_’s up on the Central Coast. And on the way they decided that they’d take us all the way and go and see Ch_ too.

So, we stopped off at their house (C_ had just gone to Indonesia the day before) and had some lunch before Space Cruising through the gale force winds up the coast. And at Ch_’s we had fun like you have to have fun when there’s six kids running round the house, Joel, Ch_’s son making up the six.

After doing that all day and my hangover getting worse and worse I opted for an early night after everyone left but instead of going to sleep i got engrossed in a book which kept me up far too long and then when Broni came to bed too we talked for about an hour like we would when we were lovers in our first few weeks, so joyed we were to be with each other that we often only slept for two or three hours a night, and though I don’t recall any of the conversation it was very important at the time. (each day we love each other a little bit more).

Photo credit: Neil Willsey

You see, you feel, you know – 5th September 1994

~ shaun tenzenmen ~ Leave a comment

Change. All change involves a challenge. I remember when I lived with my mother I was content there, I was also fussy and finicky. A cup of coffee was only nice out of my special mug. I had particular knives and forks that I had to use, no others would do. Those two tiny things were barriers I had made to stop myself from leaving. Wrapped up in a golden blanket of security, I would dread the thought of having to use a different knife.

Then I left, scared of watching all that security get old and withered. I learnt how to use a washing machine and how to cook and I learnt that I didn’t have all the time in the world and started using my spare time to good effect instead of wasting it. I slowly discovered who I was and became content again.

Broni gets herself home from work early, now she’s finishing up things she’s on a self-admitted skive but remember back when I was telling you how hard she worked, now at last the slow down.

So with time on our hands (yes, time, that funny thing that you can never have enough of and when we feel so short of it all of a sudden we are presented with some) we take off on a whim down to Poole Quay and the aquarium which is full of fish on the ground floor, swimming around in their swimming round circles, round and round. Only the piranha seem to stay in some territorial still, and Broni sits and watches the silver dollar fish, light reflecting prism-like into her eyeballs, hypnotic, entranced.

Upstairs, crocodiles lounge like dead things in their 12 inches of water, not a blink nor a twitch, then Broni walks into a room where a man sits waiting to take your picture with a 20 foot python, 6 inches across. But Broni doesn’t see the snake until it’s rubbing her hand and she makes a quick exit! The rest of the snakes we watch through glass, most being lazy and restful. But beautiful, the nest of vipers all piled on top of each other like it was cold and were seeking warmth.

Snakes and spiders, then upstairs to a model railway which fascinates the child in me watching a little replicas stopping starting whistling shunting chuffing. A great place to go and visit despite the steep entrance fee, maybe Poole Aquarium is a bit of an odd description too.

By this time we are exhausted again and return home to comfy chairs and brief dreams for a half hour. Next on the agenda is a meal we’ve planned, so I goes with my sweet to pick up my mum and we drive with a remarkable sunset behind us up to Ringwood where we joined Kerry, Ron, Cath and Simon, drinks already underway. I wanted to come back to this restaurant, the India Cottage, as it is the first place I was introduced to Indian cuisine by my boss at the time, now some six or thereabouts years ago. We were served by two young beautiful people, both English but dark skinned. Him in bright white shirt and black trousers, the nervous and anxious to please gentleman, and her also, dressed in a tie-dye one-piece dress, dark and pretty as her skin. With seven of us all giggling away we took some time in there and the best thing was the slow service which gave us all plenty of time to digest one course before stuffing another and I, probably for the first time ever, managed to eat everything I ordered. So the atmosphere was nice and relaxed right through to the last Tia Maria.

So arrived the weekend, Broni off to get her haircut then us both over to Rosemary’s for lunch where we sit and play with Jade, kid cute, running around or having us to run around after her. I feel really good around kids, I enjoy the freedom they express and their ignorance of worry, real life giver.

Our joy takes us home for a brief encounter on the bed where we frenzy practice babymaking before diversion to Wimborne for pizza and then Southampton for our last gig there before we leave, now just three weeks away. Oh yes.

Atmosphere at The Joiners is, as ever, relaxed and exciting, but tonight tinged with some sadness for us as we say our farewells to some of the regulars, brightened up though by new people eager to get involved.

So at the end of the night, midnight we bring back Rob and Rich to Chrissy’s place, Chrissy out on the tiles but Sharon there to let us in. Rich soon leaves as the rest of us prepare to have a few drinks, Rich still on his straight edge kick and good luck to him if it makes him feel better about himself, which I’ve noticed it has.

We make an effort to wait up for Chrissy but all fall asleep dead drunk after playing every single kids game in the cupboard.

It’s light and Chrissy stumbles in, 7 am, she goes to bed and we get up and not only do we get up, so do Amanda, Luke, Sam and Rebecca, our company for the morning, four beautiful active screaming monster children. Rebecca amazes us as she is now walking herself about and saying ‘yeah’ whenever it takes her fancy. Snotty nosed Sam, quietly watching and wandering from here to here. Luke demanding to play Nintendo and demanding to play with me, and Amanda being unusually quiet and restrained today, possibly because mum is not there to antagonise, Chrissy now sound asleep oblivious to rowdy rabble.

After a while of preparation we all set off for the park, Amanda demanding piggybanks of me and Luke off Rob, Broni pushes Rebecca and Sharon looking after Sam. One child each, they will never beat us!

So how is it later on I get Sam on my shoulders, Amanda on one hand and Luke on the other and I’m sure if Rebecca could get out of her locked in pushchair she’d be demanding my affection too. But I know the kids see that I have lots of love to give them and I love ’em to bits. Sam called me dad, Luke kicked me till I wouldn’t play with him no more, Sharon then talking to him quietly and Luke coming back looking all forlorn and saying sorry under his breath, little beauty horror tike.

Amanda asked me if I remember when Steve and I took her tree climbing and I surely do, I remember it so well because it was then I realised I too, could look after kids, not be scared of that kind of future. It was something Steve showed me just by doing it and not by mentioning it. The only thing he ever said about kids was that he thought I would enjoy it, and as it made him so happy. Here I was, now free of all those old inhibitions about coolness and, ‘geez I wonder if anybody can see me?’ type thoughts that always entered my head when I was around children. My only regret is that Steve isn’t here to see that in me, because even though I realised it back then, I was still in a kind of awe of him because he was looking after Rebecca and Amanda so well.

When people die, you keep a little piece of them with you and it’s something I kept of Steve (amongst other things) and I find that particularly poignant as Chrissy said to Broni the night before that ‘Shaun is a good bloke, a lot like Steve in many ways.’ That kind of compliment makes me feel good inside, I really love all these people around me. Amanda surprised me by remembering that, maybe not sure how much a seven-year-old might remember about a year before, which is great.

I talk to her about the snakes we saw and carry her down to see the cygnets and the ducklings, then onto the swings and climbing houses where we try to wear the kids out but us with only a couple of hours sleep start flagging it instead.

Get back to Chrissy’s and cook some food, Chrissy now up and pale, looking barely alive as Amanda scoffs at her, her not liking her mum getting drunk because it makes her ‘smelly’. We force Chrissy to eat but she’s had it and at 2 o’clock or so heads back to dreamland. We leave around then too, dropping off Rob on the way, Sharon already gone with the kids to a party.

Broni sleeps in the car and I sleep on the sofa when we get back but only for an hour or so. The rest of the day slips us by slowly and gently as we slow down and let the love in ourselves roll around some and spread through our veins to our fingers and toes. We fall asleep with smiles on our faces and play with our friends in our subconscious.