aker39
25-03-2010, 09:07 AM
http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/all-chchchange-when-age-keeps-you-on-your-toes-20100324-qwpk.html
All ch-ch-change when age keeps you on your toes
BOB MURPHY
March 25, 2010
Just when you think you've nailed it, life throws up another challenge.
MY TOENAILS have aged. Ch-ch-changes are constant and infinite, some good and some bad, but it's a big part of what makes the world go round. Our challenge is to roll with the punches.
But this changing (or rather, ageing) of my toenails has really got me flummoxed. I'm aware it's not the most desirable of topics to open up this year's first column with but, if it's affecting me, then chances are a few of you are equally bewildered by the state of your own toenails.
Perhaps when David Bowie sang ''turn and face the strain'' in his epic Changes he'd just taken a look at his big toenail, all hardened, thickened and threatening. Or perhaps not. (I'd set myself a target of avoiding referencing song lyrics this year, and have lasted one whole sentence. Oh well.)
But I'm interested in what else has changed of late. Our little family has moved out to the 'burbs since I last penned a line in The Age, add to that the addition of our baby girl to the clan and you could say our little world has been rocked by change. We wouldn't have it any other way.
The move out to the suburbs was a somewhat reluctant change. My wife and I have adored the inner-city living style for most of the Noughties, but Jarvis has had a big pre-season, bulked up a treat and needs some space to really stretch his wings.
Out here the air is clean, the people cheery, and there is virtually no sign of crime or social decay. Still, I'm sure we'll grow to love it.
This revelation about the toenails came only last week as I sat with Arthur (you will remember him as the elongated dog who hates wet ground) on the back porch and went about trimming my toenails. I'm not sure if that's just what happens to toenails when you're a shade under 28, or if a life spent crammed into a football boot, to be kicked, twisted and stood on, accelerates the ageing process and gives them such a ghastly, hardened exterior. It doesn't really matter why, I guess. Some things just make you feel old when you're not quite ready for them. I don't mind, for instance, the grey hair that comes through more frequently with each haircut. It's gradual. It lets you know you're ageing with class and dignity.
Gee, it's nice to have the footy back. If Melbourne was a singular person it would cast a solemn figure in the summertime, trudging along the sidewalk, sweaty and inadequately dressed, wearing a forlorn expression and the posture of someone who has just lost $50.
Our Melbourne person is neither man nor woman, just a being that craves the change of seasons and the return of the oval ball. Our fair city is at its most serene as the mercury drops and the masses rise to see their teams play on the big stage. As the leaves make their annual, gorgeous change, our Melbourne hits its stride, thrusts it shoulders back, and suddenly the clothes that hung so awkwardly on its frame fit snugly, complementing the different shades.
I'm clearly gushing a bit over old Melbourne town, which I think must have something to do with my latest love affair - train travel. I can't believe it's taken me this long, to be honest.
All these years sat in my car, crawling through the traffic. I had no idea I could be riding the rails, reading my book and getting under the skin of this city I thought I knew so well.
Falling in love with train travel has been the silver lining of our change of address. It's a fair hike to training from my ranch now, and I must admit I feared my old XP ''Jok'' (aka Frankie) might not cope with the workload. But to my pleasant surprise, catching the train has added a certain romance to my week that driving just didn't have.
Jok is happy about it, too, I reckon. His weekdays are freed up to enjoy the fresh air now, saving himself for the heavy training load of Sunday drives.
The train is a bit of a hit with my little sidekick, Jarvis, too. Twice a week J commutes with his dad to the new childcare facility at the Whitten Oval. He loves his trains almost as much as he loves his Bulldogs. Some of you might even see us - we'll be the ones struggling to carry our bags and racing to make our train. Do say hello.
Speaking of the Bulldogs, it's been a pretty big month out in the west, to be sure. But I think we've managed to fly under the radar so far in 2010, and even kept our new recruit Barry Hall virtually hidden from prying eyes.
Seriously, it was a wonderful thing to win the NAB Cup two weeks ago. The red, white and blue army has waited a long time to see a trophy of any kind. Along with about 40,000 other Bulldog fanatics, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the big boy in No. 28 kick a few, too. Barry has given himself wholly to our club, and we have welcomed him with open arms. But we'll need Barry and 21 other Bulldogs at or near their best to beat Collingwood on Sunday.
And so it begins again. Plenty of ch-ch-changes, shocks and surprises are in store in the months ahead, I know that much. And I know footy is back. All aboard!
All ch-ch-change when age keeps you on your toes
BOB MURPHY
March 25, 2010
Just when you think you've nailed it, life throws up another challenge.
MY TOENAILS have aged. Ch-ch-changes are constant and infinite, some good and some bad, but it's a big part of what makes the world go round. Our challenge is to roll with the punches.
But this changing (or rather, ageing) of my toenails has really got me flummoxed. I'm aware it's not the most desirable of topics to open up this year's first column with but, if it's affecting me, then chances are a few of you are equally bewildered by the state of your own toenails.
Perhaps when David Bowie sang ''turn and face the strain'' in his epic Changes he'd just taken a look at his big toenail, all hardened, thickened and threatening. Or perhaps not. (I'd set myself a target of avoiding referencing song lyrics this year, and have lasted one whole sentence. Oh well.)
But I'm interested in what else has changed of late. Our little family has moved out to the 'burbs since I last penned a line in The Age, add to that the addition of our baby girl to the clan and you could say our little world has been rocked by change. We wouldn't have it any other way.
The move out to the suburbs was a somewhat reluctant change. My wife and I have adored the inner-city living style for most of the Noughties, but Jarvis has had a big pre-season, bulked up a treat and needs some space to really stretch his wings.
Out here the air is clean, the people cheery, and there is virtually no sign of crime or social decay. Still, I'm sure we'll grow to love it.
This revelation about the toenails came only last week as I sat with Arthur (you will remember him as the elongated dog who hates wet ground) on the back porch and went about trimming my toenails. I'm not sure if that's just what happens to toenails when you're a shade under 28, or if a life spent crammed into a football boot, to be kicked, twisted and stood on, accelerates the ageing process and gives them such a ghastly, hardened exterior. It doesn't really matter why, I guess. Some things just make you feel old when you're not quite ready for them. I don't mind, for instance, the grey hair that comes through more frequently with each haircut. It's gradual. It lets you know you're ageing with class and dignity.
Gee, it's nice to have the footy back. If Melbourne was a singular person it would cast a solemn figure in the summertime, trudging along the sidewalk, sweaty and inadequately dressed, wearing a forlorn expression and the posture of someone who has just lost $50.
Our Melbourne person is neither man nor woman, just a being that craves the change of seasons and the return of the oval ball. Our fair city is at its most serene as the mercury drops and the masses rise to see their teams play on the big stage. As the leaves make their annual, gorgeous change, our Melbourne hits its stride, thrusts it shoulders back, and suddenly the clothes that hung so awkwardly on its frame fit snugly, complementing the different shades.
I'm clearly gushing a bit over old Melbourne town, which I think must have something to do with my latest love affair - train travel. I can't believe it's taken me this long, to be honest.
All these years sat in my car, crawling through the traffic. I had no idea I could be riding the rails, reading my book and getting under the skin of this city I thought I knew so well.
Falling in love with train travel has been the silver lining of our change of address. It's a fair hike to training from my ranch now, and I must admit I feared my old XP ''Jok'' (aka Frankie) might not cope with the workload. But to my pleasant surprise, catching the train has added a certain romance to my week that driving just didn't have.
Jok is happy about it, too, I reckon. His weekdays are freed up to enjoy the fresh air now, saving himself for the heavy training load of Sunday drives.
The train is a bit of a hit with my little sidekick, Jarvis, too. Twice a week J commutes with his dad to the new childcare facility at the Whitten Oval. He loves his trains almost as much as he loves his Bulldogs. Some of you might even see us - we'll be the ones struggling to carry our bags and racing to make our train. Do say hello.
Speaking of the Bulldogs, it's been a pretty big month out in the west, to be sure. But I think we've managed to fly under the radar so far in 2010, and even kept our new recruit Barry Hall virtually hidden from prying eyes.
Seriously, it was a wonderful thing to win the NAB Cup two weeks ago. The red, white and blue army has waited a long time to see a trophy of any kind. Along with about 40,000 other Bulldog fanatics, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the big boy in No. 28 kick a few, too. Barry has given himself wholly to our club, and we have welcomed him with open arms. But we'll need Barry and 21 other Bulldogs at or near their best to beat Collingwood on Sunday.
And so it begins again. Plenty of ch-ch-changes, shocks and surprises are in store in the months ahead, I know that much. And I know footy is back. All aboard!