I was volunteering at the prep shop at Mitch's school on Friday morning when I received a call from Don. He wanted to let me know that TMZ was reporting that Michael Jackson had died. I'm addicted to TMZ. I usually check it once a day, and although Perez and the Superificial are entertaining I find TMZ to be the most up to date and accurate. I was on the road most of Friday so I listened to AM radio, where they were piping in US news programs and tributes.

That evening Don and I were talking about it, and even Mitch seemed to know who MJ was. Well, at least he thought he knew, according to what he had heard at school that day. He was very curious that evening, and so Saturday morning we tried to explain to him exactly who MJ was, and why he was so famous. We tried to pull up some videos for him to watch and of course the internet had slowed to a crawl. Suddenly a lighbulb, MTV! Turned out that VH1 was having a top 30 countdown of MJ videos. Both Don and I thought that Thriller would be a great video for Mitch to see. It's got music, flair, and dancing zombies. How could we go wrong? Hmmmmmm....maybe not such a great idea. Mitch seemed to be into it, until MJ transformed into a yellow eyed people eater. He started shrieking, covering his eyes and attempted to tunnel through the sofa, via my armpit. Don came running into the room, scrambling for the remote. He found it just as Mitch started to calm down. Don turned off the TV, and immediately Mitch popped his head up wanting to know why we turned it off. He started to cry saying he wanted to watch it. So, I uh, I turned it back on. Yeah, I know. He was really into it, said he liked it. So here we are Sunday night. Mitch has called us in three times because he keeps "seeing bad things" and can't sleep. Coincidence? Stall tactic? Bad mommy? Who knows.

On Saturday morning (pre Thriller) I had planned on turning the TV off after one or two videos. but I actually found myself wanting to watch as many as I could. I hadn't really listened to MJ since the early 90s, and I certainly hadn't purchased an album since Bad. but watching the videos really took me back. Last week, if you had asked my opinion of him I wouldn't have been very kind. But one thing that cannot be dismissed is that he had an immense and immeasurable talent. Hopefully he now finds the peace that he was unable to attain during his life.

Karma

First off, the photo has absolutely nothing to do with the post. Just my way of making the grandparents smile :)

Last night Don and I went to dinner with some friends at the Orient Hotel in the Rocks. Wow - a real night out. We got some drinks and got a standing table by the entrance. No chairs, just a table with a little shelf underneath for your purse, etc. About ten minutes in we decided to move upstairs where it was a bit warmer. About twenty minutes after that we were sitting upstairs enjoying our drinks and conversation when I realized that I should probably check my phone, just in case the babysitter had called. What did parents do thirty years ago? I would say that they probably went out and enjoyed themselves, instead of having the luxury to check their cell phone neurotically every half hour (or is that just me?). Well, I looked to the left, to the right, behind me, then jumped up like a bee had stung me, realizing that I couldn't find my purse. I realized that I had left it downstairs, in the crowded bar area. Don went flying down the stairs, I was five steps behind him. The table was now occupied by a group of twenty something guys....and my purse was gone. Now, the story could sadly end there. However, one of the twenty something guys pointed out front and said to my husband, "the bag is over there". The front door guy walked in at that moment, with my purse in hand. The guys at the table had handed it in to security. You cannot believe the feeling of absolute relief that washed over me in that five seconds. I have never lost a purse or had one stolen. I've never even misplaced my wallet (my glasses are a another story). However, I have found a few wallets over the years. Probably the most memorable one is when I was thirteen. I had just walked outside Sav-on when I saw a wallet sitting on the ledge of the pay phones. I looked around and there was no one close by. I stood by it for a few minutes but no one came for it. So I covertly put in under my shirt, which was not an easy thing to do given the size of the thing. This was one of those wallets where the guy had his life stuffed in it. The kind that throws hips out and causes sciatica. It was chockablock full of credit cards, business cards, the pink slip to his vehicle, and a wad of cash. I think it was like $160, which to a thirteen year old in the early 80s was a lot of moolah. I showed my mom and stepfather. My stepfather gave me the sage advice of taking the cash out and tossing the wallet in a mailbox (nice, huh?) where he assured me that the postman would deliver it to the rightful owner. My grandmother, who lived with us, quickly pulled me aside and sat me down. She said that basically I had found the wallet, and it was my decision to do what I wanted. But, I also knew what would be the right decision. I thought about it for about an hour, and decided that I would call the owner. I still remember how nervous I was. I uttered, "I uh, I have your wallet" or something eloquent like that. The guy put the phone down and I could hear him yelling to someone in the background. He got my address, and said he'd be right over. He showed up about twenty minutes later. I gave him the wallet, he opened it up, thumbed through the money - twice - put the wallet in his back pocket, uttered "thanks", then turned around and left. I was disappointed, I really thought I might get a reward. My grandmother said she was proud of me, my stepfather laughed, and I felt like the world's biggest fool. I what-if'd the situation for days. What if I had just taken twenty from the wallet? For a few days I even lived on hope, half expecting him to return and present me with a reward so I could blow it on Chu-Bops and rainbow unicorn stickers. Eventually I came to realize that my reward (and I know this sounds really cheesy) is being able to look back and know that I did the right thing. I hope at the time it gave my grandmother some comfort, knowing that her years of hard work and diligence of instilling values, actually took. So fast forward twenty eight years and here we are. When things like this happen, I think it just verifies that life is full of cause and effect and that our daily actions do shape our present and future experiences in life. Call it Karma, the Golden Rule, or just doing the right thing. By the way, after my knees stopped shaking we bought the group of guys a round of drinks to show our appreciation. And guys - if you're out there - your mums would be proud!

Music Part II

Yes, I realize that I just wrote a post on music. Looking back, it was a bit harsh. I guess that's what a working road trip over a Holiday weekend does. Ultimately, I've realized over the last week that pop and rock are all fine, as long as it's something I like to hear. OK, so I'm a hypocrite, whatever. This song has been getting alot of airplay here. I just heard a few days ago that Australian stations are mandated to play a certain percentage of Aussie music, as opposed to US or UK artists. Interesting. So, I'm not sure if this song is really good, or if I've just grown fond of it as a result of hearing it XX amount of times per hour as mandated by the Australian Government. I actually think the artist might be a Kiwi now living here, or the other way around. Anyways, here's something a little different. Or, maybe it's already hit the States?

Medicare Monday

It's Monday morning. I would usually be at work, but I have an ear infection if you can believe that. Hopefully my boss did. I woke up with the feeling of some pressure on the right side of my face, and a headache. Over the next few hours it developed into something akin to an icepick being driven through my right ear. I now know why babies scream and tug on their ears when they get an ear infection. I got some antibiotics and ear drops, so I'll probably be back to work later today, or tomorrow. I also got the opportunity to use my Medicare card for the first time. Coming over on a 457 we weren't eligible for Medicare so we had to get private health insurance. We paid the bills and then sent them in for reimbursement. But when I got citizenship I became eligible for Medicare (it was a nightmare getting it - but that's a different story for another day). I went to the clinic, gave them my card, saw the doctor, signed some papers and that was that. I had the good fortune to pick a clinic that has bulk billing so I wasn't out of pocket. Bulk billing is an agreement with Medicare where the doctors accept whatever the scheduled fee is that Medicare is willing to pay for XX visit. Even with Medicare here, doctors can charge what they want (like in the States). So if what Medicare pays is less than what the doctor charges for a visit, you end up with a "gap" payment. They can't call it a co-payment here, even though that's essentially what it is. Next I went to get my prescriptions. I thought they might be free here, but Medicare pays anything over $32. My Amoxicillan was $16 so I paid for that, the ear drops must have been more because I paid $32 for those. What, no painkillers? Well that's not a problem since you can pick up codeine over the counter in Australia. All in all, Medicare is not a bad plan, just not as good as the States where our prescription plan was a $10 copay for generics, and $20 for anything else. It will be interesting when I choose a general practitioner for my "regular doctor" as opposed to a clinic, and find out what my gap payment will be. Our insurance plan in the States was exceptional, like the AMEX platinum of insurance. We could pretty much choose any doctor we wanted (and it seemed that every doctor accepted our plan) and we could self refer to specialists, and had only a $10 copayment. I have a feeling that isn't going to happen here.

I'm Old....er

I was going to title this post "I'm Old", then I realized that it would be much like the 120 lb waif that pats her rear and exclaims that she's getting fat. You just want to groan and roll your eyes. Then beat her. But, you see, I'm turning 42 in a few months. The good thing is that I certainly don't feel 42 (I don't feel tardy...hello 1984). On the flip side, I haven't aged or developed into one of those distinguished mature woman that I see around me on a daily basis either. I can be cluelessly inappropriate (usually realized hours after the fact), and I still haven't seemed to learn the basic lesson that my Nana tried to instill in me from a very early age - keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut. I know that sounds harsh, but don't judge her. Unlike her, you didn't have to put up with me as a child. Last week I received another assignment to go to Batemans Bay. We decided to make it a family trip over the long weekend. I booked a great little two bedroom bungalow with a balcony and a spa over the bay. We even planned to stop in Canberra on the way down. I was going to Questacon with Mitch and Don was going to the Australian War Memorial. However, this was not to be. Don got two calls Friday afternoon. One was telling him that the system that he is working on was starting to crash. The second was from his boss in the U.S. telling him that he had decided to fly into Australia...on Monday. So, scratch the family trip. I was disappointed. It was a long weekend, and I was going to end up by myself, working. It was a five hour trip, and due to poor planning I left a little late on Monday. Abut half way there it started to get dark, and that is when I realized that I drive painfully s-l-o-w in the dark. I think the speed limit was 110, which is basically 68 MPH. I was going 100 at the fastest, or 62 mph. I know I was going really slow because every time a pass zone came up, five or six cars would just blow by me, going a lot faster than 62. When I finally arrived the lodge was gracious enough to downgrade me to a small cabin. I think that even they realized that a single woman staying in a deluxe bungalow with a spa on the balcony was just sad. So, I grabbed a quick dinner, got a bottle of shiraz, read a bit and went to bed. In the morning I completed my assignment and headed back home. On the way down I listened to some CDs but on the way back I listened to the radio. Somewhere in between AC/DC, the Black Eyes Peas and Lady GaGa singing about taking a ride on a disco stick my ears started to bleed and I realized that I seriously needed to update my CD collection. I formulated a mental list. Chicago, Elton John, Neil Diamond, James Taylor, and some books on CD. I was craving music that although I found enjoyable enough to listen to over the years, I was now actually looking forward to purchasing. And Books on CD - really? (EDIT - I just had to change this from books on tape to books on CD) I think in general that I am starting to slow down, and not just with the driving. One good thing about the drive back is that I discovered ABC Radio. It's like a poor man's NPR. They were featuring the author of the book Six Months in Sudan. He was absolutely fascinating to listen to, and I was hooked. I think I know what I'm ordering from Amazon for my birthday.... well, that and Billy Joel's Greatest Hits.