Easy Rider 2: Back in the Saddle

You may remember, from about a year ago, Jett’s horrific facial injuries sustained while performing his rite of passage into manhood. Or rather, you may remember that he fell off his bike while learning to ride. But to Jett, I guess, it was a bigger deal because after the tribulation he never got on his bike again. His bike has been sitting in the garage in pristine condition, unused since that fateful day. We’ve tried different techniques like praise and encouragement, threats and intimidation, promises of rewards or punishment, and ridicule and derision but he has never budged.

But last week he finally cracked. He’s a stubborn little bugger, I’ll give him that. We had to start from scratch in teaching him to ride and he fought us every step of the way. I got a sore back from leaning over trying to hold his bike up while he gained balance and confidence, but flashbacks of the pavement rushing up to smack him in the chops would come back to haunt him and turn him into a blubbering, frozen mess.

It took about a month but we finally got there. In baby steps we got him to ride from one neighbors house to the other. Then, all the way to the corner (one way only, he wasn’t about to ride all the way back). Then, in one bold, ambitious expedition and with the help from a couple neighbours kids we made it all the way round the block!

Then this week I came home and he was proud to tell me he rode all the way to school and back on the new bike track to pick up Ashton with mum. For some reason he was too unwell to attend school himself that day, but that wouldn’t stop him getting some peddle time on his bike. It turns out it took about an hour each way to ride 2km but hey, it’s a great achievement.

Sushi Trains and the Black Arts

Jett and I had a boys day out on the weekend. Jett had it in his mind, for some unknown reason, that he wanted to go to the Art Gallery. I think he heard Ashton telling her story about how she set off the alarms when she touched a painting and the guards came running. Jett would have still been in the pram at the stage so it’s understandable he had no memory of it. He was talking about it all week and was excited to go.

But first thing to do after making the trip up in the train was to have lunch. We weren’t going to have the normal McDonalds or Subway during this cultural excursion. No sir. This special event required special food, and the most special food Jett knew about was to be found going round and round in circles on little plates. We were headed for a Sushi bar!

We’d walked past this place a couple times, and Jett had seen the plates moving by themselves and, without being able to actually see the mechanism, imagined that the plates were being taken around the track behind a little train. All he wanted to do was visit the place that had the Sushi Train.

So, Sushi it was. We were seated and Jett was mesmerised by all the little plates rattling by. The plates were different colours and cost different amounts of money. I told him to mostly eat yellow and red, and try to leave the orange and brown as they were $10-$12 per plate for two little bits of Sushi. Sure enough, the first plate he took was brown. I could feel my wallet trying to scamper away and hide. But after that we stuck the the lower price cuisine which was simply delicious. I’m surprised at how adventurous Jett was, eating from many different plates. We had the freshest of fresh sushi, taking a plate that we had seen the chef prepare no more than 5 seconds earlier and place down in front of us. It was great!

Then we spent about an hour at the Art Gallery of WA. They had a paid exhibition of 15th to 17th century “treasures”, mostly tapestries and clothing and whatnot which I convinced Jett wasn’t really worth spending money or time looking at. We were here just for the paintings and sculptures. I tried to ask him what he saw in some pieces, what he thought the artist was trying to “say”, why he thought the painting was done this way or that. He had quite an imagination and came up with some good answers.

One thing we both took away though was how “dumb” some art is. There was one display of four completely black panels. Nothing else. Four black panels in a row. We couldn’t for the life of us work out why this was considered good enough or important enough to hang in an art gallery. The one below at least had a gold border, but it was still just a black panel with a thin gold border.

There was some spiel about the artist, and how the painting was exposing inner turmoil and struggle and blah blah blah. Neither of us could understand what he was getting at, even with Jetts hyperactive imagination.

Spam/Wife, it’s all the same: I get no respect

Suzanne has been forwarding me job postings from employment web sites lately. In one of my increasingly rare appearances on Facebook a couple days ago, I posted this image:

Suzanne That’s a pretty funny image you posted the other day.

Brian Haha, yeah I thought you’d like it.

Suzanne You know it’s not entirely true though.

Brian Well, yeah I know.

Suzanne I’ve never sent you emails about losing weight!

Brian …

Suzanne …

Brian I’m so defriending you on Facebook.

 

Directed by M. Night Shyamalan

Aside

Boy: hey
Girl doesn’t say anything
Boy: I really like you
Girl doesn’t say anything
Boy: OK, I love you
Girl still isn’t saying anything
Boy: and I never want to let you go
Girl remains silent…
Boy kisses girl
Boy eats girl
Girl was doritos the whole time