The Hobyahs Return!

Hard to believe that I've been so busy that I haven't posted since APRIL 2005!

The big change has been relocating to Melbourne, in October. There were many reasons for doing this, including an urgent need to be closer to my family, and changing directions in business. But also because Lynne called me earlier in the year to ask if Diamond Valley Singers -- a music theatre group she belongs to -- could have permission to produce my original kids' pantomime, "The HOBYAHS".

I wrote this in 1974, together with my good friend and (then) business partner, Greg Simmons. (That's Greg in the photo at left.) I wrote it for several reasons:

First, the local theatre group in Wonthaggi, where we lived, needed a panto for the summer holiday season to make enough money to pay the mortgage payment on its theatre, which it purchased that year. So Greg and I volunteered to write, produce, direct and participate, since so many people would be away at that time.

Second, my children, Marnie 5 and Josh 3, loved pantomime but were bored silly by the usual offerings in Melbourne, which tended to be written by television writers. So the kids just sat there watching, without participating. I wanted to write a more traditional panto with LOTS of audience participation. That's them (right) at the time, in their Hobyah t-shirts. They're now in their mid-30s and parents themselves. Josh is a make-up artist and teacher based in Orlando, FL and he's created the masks for the Hobyahs for this season (see below).

And finally, the story of the Hobyahs, in the Second Grade Reader when I was just seven, scared the living daylights out of me, and gave me nightmares for years!

I figured this could be a way for me to expunge them, and turn that experience into something more positive.

It worked, and both Josh and Marnie have enjoyed being involved in subsequent seasons (Josh playing a Hobyah and Marnie running the box office in the 1986 production).

This season, our youngest daughter, Esther 16, is playing the female lead, Amelia Peppercorn and winning hearts with her charming performance and effortless singing. Here she is with the rest of the principal cast members, from left: Captain Lightning (Drew Hanna), Trooper Trott (yours truly), Amelia (Esther), Mrs Peppercorn (Malcolm Wilton as the traditional panto Dame), Mr Peppercorn (Troy Larkin) and the Head Hobyah (Anne Gasko).

The reviews have been terrific, and audience responses -- from all ages -- deafening! You can learn all about the show, and this season's production, download freebies, listen to the music and more at the web site here...

www.hobyahs.com

ANZAC reflections

Yesterday was ANZAC Day here in Australia and New Zealand. Another public holiday, but one that's sacred to most Australians and Kiwis.

It's our equivalent of Memorial Day in the USA. It's when we remember and honour the dead -- and the living -- of all the wars in which our servicemen and women fought.

This is focused upon the first-ever campaign fought by ANZAC troops (ANZAC = Australian and New Zealand Army Corps -- a British Army clerk created the acronym to save time and repetition, because each soldier had to be identified individually as an ANZAC because they were all listed as British at that time). This was the debacle at Gallipoli, in the Turkish Dardanelles, in which 450,000 ANZACs were killed or wounded in a useless, tragic saga of self-indulgence, incompetence and sheer pig-headedness from the British Armed Forces, from Winston Churchill to his generals and navy people.

The few positive things to come from this bloody fiasco were (in no particular order of priority)...

• a true and unique sense of national identity and worth
• an awareness of the cavalier contempt of the British military establishment for "colonials"
• an awareness of the blind incompetence of that same British military establishment
• the establishment of the reputation of the "Diggers" as the most irreverent, inventive, "kiss-my-arse"-brave, deadliest and most feared soldiers in the world (a reputation that still holds true to this day)
• the United Nations' first choice as peace keepers
• a willingness to respect and befriend former enemies (Turkey and Japan are close friends these days)

A few years ago, I became concerned by the dwindling attendances ar ANZAC Day parades and ceremonies. This year, like last year, we've witnessed record attendances. Ever since our troops began service in East Timor, Afghanistan and Iraq, we've seen a resurgence in support for them and their predecessors. Not to glorify war, but to honour their service and sacrifice, and to acknowledge our reliance upon them for keeping Australia free and at peace.

I have a close friend who served as a captain in Australia's SAS (Special Air Service). My father served in the Australian Army, with distinction, during World War II. Both hated war and refused to talk about their exploits and experiences, except for the occasional guarded comment, usually along the lines of "you have no idea of what you're talking about -- wait until you've been in real fighting before you open your mouth and reveal your ignorance and arrogance".

My friend's car bears a sticker that says "Nobody loves a soldier until the enemy is at the gate". Thankfully, that no longer seems to apply, in Australia, at least. And, while we neither want nor glorify war, we understand and appreciate the importance of being vigilant and fearless when it comes time to stand up and be counted.

That's MY business!

It happened again last week. I set out to provide a little information in response to a couple of requests, and ended up creating an entire web site before I realised it. In fact, several web sites!

Normally, I plan out a web site fairly carefully. But, just occasionally, this kind of thing happens. I grows and grows, just like Topsy. I'm not sure why.

The upshot of all this is that I now have a web site I can point people to whenever they ask "John, what do you do for a living?" and my heart sinks, because I do so many things and it would take forever to explain it all.

I realised that some of the more technical terms and descriptions may not mean much to visitors, so I began posting manual pop-up windows with succinct explanations linked to those terms. Then I realised that I had products or programs related to those aspects of small business or direct selling that could be helpful to visitors. Then it dawned on me that these pages could be helpful if they were available from ALL of my business web sites if I linked them to those sites.

Are you beginning to see the chain reaction happening here?

This could become a nightmare so easily! *lol*

Still, the new site is a useful promotional resource for prospective small business and direct selling profession clients. Not only does it explain what I do, in as much detail as they need and choose, but it does it on a more personal level, because it's part of my personal domain. Since my clients tend to all become friends, that has to be a good thing.

I think!

Anyway, here's the new site: http://www.johncounsel.biz

So that was summer?

I promise this is the last post for a while harping on climate change! But the past week has been so unusual, weather-wise, that I had to comment.

Officially it's still summer here in Australia. Actually, it's tyically the hottest time of the entire year. Not this year.

This year we saw a cold weather vortex zoom in over the entire south eastern quadrant of the continent and just sit there for more than a week now. It's more than 1,000 km wide and brought record low temperatures, record rainfall (Melbourne's highest rainfall in a single day since records began -- massive flooding), windstorms (a series of small tornadoes hit Sydney, wreaking serious havoc), and our ski resorts -- normally catering only to high country hikers at this time of year) are packed to the rafters with skiers taking advantage of summer snow!

It's been cold and wet and windy ever since this "thing" arrived.

Now there's talk on science programs here that the entire western ice shelf of Antarctica is at risk of slipping off the continent into the surrounding Southern Ocean. Apparently the melting water running under the ice has reached such a deluge that the permanent ice cover is disintegrating from beneath.

Current best estimate of the effect on sea levels, globally, is a rise of around 7 metres. That's almost 23 feet. (Imagine what a 23 feet rise in water level would do to most coastal cities around the world.)

But that takes no account of other effects, such as the impact on water salinity and temperatures of the oceans, and the warm currents that make most of the northern hemisphere habitable.

We live in interesting times.

Freaky weather -- a sign of things to come?

I was watching Good Morning America early today and was appalled by the weather system moving into the US. Today will be 37 C here (100 F), but we've had miserable weather for the past few days... cold, wet, windy.

I think I must be getting paranoid after watching "The Day After Tomorrow" the other week with Esther. The story is based on current scientific thinking that ice ages are actually triggered by global warming... the ice caps begin breaking up, salinity of the oceans is lowered by the melting ice, the water temperature begins dropping, affecting the life-giving major currents, especially in the northern hemisphere, and this gives rise to major climate vortices, at the centre of which the temperature plummets to less than minus-150 F, snap freezing anything over which it passes. (Thus explaining the discovery of a Siberian mammoth, frozen upright, with food in its mouth and stomach still.)

Well... in the past 6 months a major part of the Ross Ice Shelf of Antarctica has broken away and begun to disintegrate. This was the opening scenario of the movie, made more than a year before this happened! It's feared that as much as 40% of the Antarctic penguin population will perish as a result of this disaster.

Three weeks ago there was a significant disturbance in the floor of the Southern Ocean which, geophysicists believe, triggered the Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunamis.

At the same time, the annual Sydney-to-Hobart ocean yacht race lost a record number of entrants due to massive seas and storms, especially in Bass Strait, which is fed by the Southern Ocean. I could only watch in utter bewilderment as race organisers ignored gale warnings and predictions of 20 metre (65 foot) waves of the kind that cost 6 crewmen their lives a couple of years ago, with scores of near-misses, due only to the bravery of rescue crews, and pressed on with plans to conduct the race. Unbelievably irresponsible behavior, all round.

In yesterday's paper there was an article on the current boom in the Tasmanian salmon fishing industry -- giant salmon are being harvested, their size affected by the drop in water temperature in the Southern Ocean.

Our weather comes directly off the Southern Ocean. We're currently experiencing unseasonably cold weather and storms -- sort of a reverse El Nino (El Nino climate is triggered by a rise in ocean temperatures of less than 5 C).

Hel-lo-o? Is everyone asleep at the wheel? Can nobody see any connections here?

Think I'll move to high ground in Queensland -- or Papua New Guinea!

2005 doesn't feel much different

Esther and I spent New Year's Eve together just hanging out. We sort of half planned to go to nearby Phillip Island for the afternoon and evening (evening for the large carnival at Cowes), but that was before we remembered that it was New Year's Eve.

Phillip Island, and Cowes township in particular, are notorious for drunken, loutish behaviour on New Year's Eve. Having grown up on country police stations, I had no wish to expose my daughter or myself to that kind of unpleasantness or risk of drunk drivers, so we opted, instead, for a leisurely Chinese dinner at a friend's restaurant.

Christine Kwa is one of those very savvy restaurant owners who never forgets a face, a name or an anniversary. I've known a few of them over the years (although none as formidable or as gregarious as Jenny from Templestowe's legendary Flying Dragon).

Twenty-five years ago, when Christine opened her restaurant, our family members were amongst her first customers, and she's never forgotten. So when we arrived to find the place packed to the rafters, we expected to be turned away -- until Christine spotted us and came straight across to find us a table for two.

After a really enjoyable meal and even more enjoyable conversation with my youngest daughter, we decided to rent some DVDs and see the New Year in at home. I managed to stay awake for the first movie, but was woken by Esther at midnight for a kiss and a hug, and a barrage of fireworks from some neighbours. Five minutes later I was asleep in bed. I'd had a long day.

We woke late on Saturday and puddled around on our respective computers for a while, watched a movie together, then decided to spend the afternoon at the beach. The day, which had started out cool and overcast, was really lovely by early afternoon, and we chose Walkerville South as our destination.

Walkerville is something of a well-kept local secret. My father, who'd lived there for a couple of years as a youngster while his own father worked in the lime kilns that were the tiny township's reason for being, first took us there when I was about five, and I fell in love with its crystal-clear waters, sandy coves, caves, rock formations and islets, the cliffs, the sweep of the beaches clear around Waratah Bay to Wilson's Promontory on the Eastern side of the bay, the rainforests clinging to the hillsides that border this pristine part of the coast, and the jagged mountains of Wilson's Promontory, jutting out of Bass Strait at the southernmost tip of the Australian mainland. (Or, as the Tasmanians insist, the North Island!)

I even used it as the setting for my panto "Captain Lightning and the Smugglers" in 1976... a gross error of judgement that earned me the ire of some locals who felt that I had betrayed their secret.

The road into Walkerville South was always something of a trick. An unmarked dirt road, full of corrugations, it turned off the main tourist road through the area and seemed to go nowhere in particular... probably a farm track in the perceptions of most visitors. But little did they suspect that, just over the first rise, out of sight, a sealed road took those in the know (locals only) straight to the most delightful beaches and views in all of South Gippsland... a private haven in the midst of the #2 tourist destination in Australia after the Great Barrier Reef.

That was before Saturday.

I should have known something had changed when we arrived at the turnoff to find a sealed road and large signs pointing to Walkerville South and Cape Liptrap Lighthouse. If that weren't enough warning, the 4-wheel drives parked the length of the winding road down the cliff faces should have alerted us.

The beach wasn't packed, but it was full of people... and almost none of them locals.


Walkerville South beach, looking south toward the rocks and caves.

Still, we found a spot on the sand near the shrubs and bushes adjacent to the car park and had a kind of picnic, of fresh fruits and lollies, surrounded by seagulls hungry for anything edible.

Sitting on the beach, I noticed something from the corner of my eye and turned to see a tiny pair of Blue Wrens, male and female, hopping amongst the wildflowers on the tree-lined verge adjoning the sand (succulents bursting with water in their leaves and stems, with pale pink, purple and white blossoms that were attracting insects and, hence, the wrens.

I was astonished by their tameness. They hopped within inches of us, staring at us defiantly before hopping away in pursuit of their prey.

It was so unexpected, and so enchanting, that I sat watching them for about 45 minutes while Esther explored some nearby rocks and tidal pools. The water was glassy, as usual, in this protected corner at the south west entrance to Waratah Bay, which boasts almost fifteen miles of superb surf beaches further to the north and east.


Walkerville South beach, looking north toward the curve of Waratah Bay's magnificent surf beaches and pristine, rainforested hills that sweep down to the sandy beaches, like semi tropical wilderness.

We stopped off, on our way home, to see the lighthouse at Cape Liptrap, and to photograph Wilson's Promontory in the distance, its peaks highlighted by the low light of the late afternoon sun behind us. The photos weren't spectacular because of the summer haze, but I'll try to enhance them and get them on-line this week.

All told, it was a pleasant, lazy day spent in a truly beautiful part of my country, a world away from the tragedy unfolding in Asia. It was a time for reflection and counting of blessings.


Esther explores the rocks near the cave entrances, blocked by high tide for the moment.

I'm looking forward to this year. It will be marked by many changes for me, and for my family. Here's hoping that they're positive and pleasurable.

A happy, safe and prosperous 2005 to you, too. :)

A Christmas Reflection

It's early Sunday morning here, on Boxing Day -- 26 December 2004 -- and I've just spent almost three hours browsing an extraordinary gift received yesterday. I couldn't begin to estimate how many hours were devoted to it, but I have the result and it's overwhelming.

Lynne presented each of us with a CD-ROM of family photos taken over the past 37 years. Not every photo, but more than 2,000 of them, all scanned, cropped and catalogued for easy access.

Talk about a labour of love.

To be able to re-visit memories of my wife, children and grandchildren, at all of the different stages of their lives, is literally priceless, and I want to go on public record with my profound appreciation to Lynne for this precious gift. I'll treasure it for the rest of my life.

I just wrote a thank you note to Marnie, my eldest daughter, who hosted the rest of the immediate family for the day, with David and Ainsley and Nadia. As my first child, she holds a very special place in my heart, and embodies the Lord's promise of "joy in your posterity" for me. Each of my five children occupies an unique place, naturally, but my memories of Marnie are longer as a matter of course. She's been part of the family for longer than any of the kids.

Photos taken during the day will be posted in the family photo album at http://www.counselfamily.org/album in a day or two, as soon as I have them.

It's such a joy to have a family to love. It's even nicer when they're so easy to love. :)

I hope your Christmas was as happy and joy-filled as mine.

What's worse than a mindless bore?

The answer is, of course, a mindless bore with a mission! An evangelical bore!

I'd forgotten how thoroughly unpleasant these characters can be -- and how tenacious -- until this week, when I was contacted by someone wanting to challenge my beliefs. Not that this is a bad thing, per se. But when they insist on trotting out the same old, tired, utterly discredited laundry list of claims, one can be forgiven for wishing they'd at least use a little imagination, if not a little homework to discover the f-a-c-t-s.

He was a born-again, pentecostal "Christian" determined to get me to watch "The Godmakers" to save me from my folly. What irritated me was his unwillingness to listen to what I was saying to him. He had his script and he wasn't about to veer to left or right, let alone allow anyone to get a word in edgewise. I believe that word is "boorish", but it could as easily be "ignorant," "rude," "churlish" or a host of other synonyms.

What finally got his attention was me outlining the long list of errors and inaccuracies in the movie. What REALLY stopped him in his tracks was my comment that NONE of the stuff he was trying to ram down my throat (figuratively, at least) was ever designed by its creators to change MY mind. Rather, HE was living proof of its real purpose... to prevent their own followers from ever running the risk of honestly investigating what my religion actually teaches. (An open mind is anathema to the manipulators and merchants of deception who create and peddle this nonsense.)

So he switched to remote control. I guess he figured a one-way "conversation" was less threatening to his irrational, emotional position. A stream of email messages, links, exhortations, etc commenced. I replied to the first one courtesously, asking him to discontinue. After a couple of days of this deluge I simply blocked him at my mail server.

I scratch my head in wonder at how closed-minded all fanatics are. He'd have been horrified if I'd compared him to the followers of Osama Bin Laden, the IRA and other extremists, who use religion as a cloak for their political objectives, simply because there are so many unthinking, fear-filled people willing to die for their beliefs as some kind of back door to heaven, when even their own scriptures teach that the ONLY legitimate way to enter heaven is by LIVING those beliefs. (But that requires time, effort and self-discipline and -- most threatening of all -- reason, which fanatics are rarely willing to face.)

I don't care what religion you profess to follow... a fanatic is never a valid representative of any legitimate faith, including my own.

But for a person professing to be a Christian to subscribe to the same mindset and practices as those who incite hatred, intolerance, coercion, injury and death on those who don't share their bizarre views, a long, hard look at the reality of their position is needed.

Christ said "by their fruits ye shall know them". In other words, it's not what you say that counts. It's what you DO.

From the beginning, there's only one being whose hatred of mankind -- and of God, by whatever name -- has inspired hatred, intolerance, coercion, injury and death to the children of God by his followers, be they merely mindless or openly malevolent.

So it stands to reason that those who follow this being will be the ones who practise what he preaches.

That being is not Jesus Christ. It can't be. His is a gospel of peace, kindness, tolerance and love. So "Christian" fanatics -- regardless of what they convince themselves is their version of the "truth" -- can't be true followers of Christ.

The truth is simple, plain and unmistakable. The "god" that they follow is none other than the adversary of God and his children. The father of lies. The deceiver supreme. The sworn enemy of God...

Satan himself.

Joshua said it succinctly: "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve; but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Just be careful which lord you choose to serve.

An early Christmas

Christmas comes early for the Counsel clan.

Not because we're an impatient lot, but because it's so difficult getting everyone together on Christmas Day. Our older girls go to their husband's or boyfriends' families, some of us work, travel, etc.

So we gather at the home of my brother, Peter, and his partner, Pam, for a relaxing weekend of sitting around, chatting, eating, drinking, playing golf, walking, watching the grandchildren play together, napping, reading and generally enjoying each other's company.



Pete and Pam live on the Churchill campus of Monash University, one of Australia's largest multi-national institutions of higher learning where they both work, Peter in security and Pam teaching statistics, as well as completing her Ph.D. Education is a major export industry here, especially to Asia. Over the past decade, our universities have established campuses across Asia to reduce the cost for local students, who previously had to spend 3-7 years in Australia, away from family and friends, with all the expenses entailed. That made it difficult for Asian families who weren't wealthy to access higher education for their children.

It was also a smart move in terms of international relations.

Churchill is a university town on the southern fringe of the beautiful Latrobe Valley in central Gippsland, in the east of the state of Victoria. Behind it rise the rolling hills and rainforests of the Strzelecki Ranges.

The Latrobe Valley is where most of Victoria's electric power is generated. The world's largest brown coal deposits are open-cut mined there to fuel the massive power stations, which are supplemented by hydro-electric power from the Snowy Mountains to the far north-east of the state. (Australia has no nuclear power generation.)

Pete arranges for us all to stay in the student housing units for the weekend. The university year is over by the end of October, so we have the run of the campus facilities for the weekend, which is typically held in mid-November. I can't recall why it was so late this year.

Pete organises a spit roast with lamb, marinated in lemon juice, Greek-style, and Pam makes salads and other fresh foods for us for lunch, and to nibble on throughout the afternoon and evening. My mother usually bakes one of her legendary chocolate cream sponges, that the entire family -- and anyone else who ever gets to share them -- hangs out for the whole year.

Mid-afternoon -- after most of the adults have had a nap -- is when the presents under the Christmas tree are opened... ending the hours of anticipation and sheer torture endured by all the grandchildren.

Most of us stay overnight and invade one of the two local wards of the Church on Sunday morning, then, after a leisurely lunch, we return to our homes, well-fed, all caught up on family news and events, and generally feeling happy and relaxed.

Naomi wasn't able to join us this year because of her big break... she was the only "up-and-coming" DJ amongst a field of established and international stars at the huge annual Rave party at Kryal Castle near Ballarat, 75 miles west of Melbourne -- and over 200 miles from Churchill.

I haven't yet heard how she did, but she's a very talented girl and a popular performer at major Melbourne raves. You can see photos of her performing with her dance troupe on her personal page at http://www.counselfamily.org/naomi -- she choreographs, trains the team, designs and makes all the costumes and organises the engagements for them.

Lynne and Esther were there, and I brought Esther home with me for the next four or five days, which is always a treat (for me, anyway!). We had to return home Saturday evening because Angus was on his own and on his leash. The workmen replacing the roof were working here all day Saturday and they seem incapable of closing any gates. So Angus has to stay leashed while they're here because he's a wanderer. Apart from the risk of being hit by cars (he's hopeless on the roads), there's a $200 fine if he's picked up by the local Ranger and taken to the dog pound.

He was very pleased to see us, as always.

Yesterday I went to Church without Esther, who forgot to bring any good clothes with her (and needed a sleep-in to recover from a late night of movies we hired and watched). I had a lesson to present for my High Priests Group and choir practice to attend (I'm Ward Music Chairman, so I have to lead by example). We spent the afternoon and evening together and had a relatively early night. We enjoy each other's company, and never seem to run out of things to talk about. For a couple of Aspies lacking in social skills, we do okay. :)

Photos from the weekend are on view in the family album at:

http://www.counselfamily.org/album/41212.html

The family web site is currently undergoing a complete revamp, but most of the main sections are visible. Visit us here:

http://www.counselfamily.org

Simplicity, serenity, solitude

It's been one of those weeks where you think you have things under control and then, suddenly, it dawns on you that, while you were busy grabbing one side of the cream cake, most of the cream just spilled out the other side, out of sight, dropping all down the front of your shirt.

I no longer fret over such things. In the past two years I've added a whole new dimension to my life to replace one that I've lost. No... not lost. Supplanted. I didn't like it or want it, so I planted something else that's now blossomed and replaced what I found unacceptable, which simply withered and died of deliberate neglect. I gave it no further energy or attention and it dwindled until it was no more.

As an Aspie, solitude is nothing new to me. The difference in these past two years has been that I understand and recognise the reality of my life and condition, and accept that I'm different, in so many ways, from other people. I still feel compelled to work longer than necessary. I still find myself in the centre of disorganised jumbles. But I just take it in my stride, break my routine and fix it. If I need a nap, or a break, I take them. I stop and play with Angus, my dog, or take him for a walk. Or make my bed. Or wash the dishes or the floor. I no longer feel guilty about interrupting the important things on which I happen to be focused so intensely. I take time for myself, my family and friends.

I often quote a Brazilian proverb that I've come to appreciate for its profound wisdom:

"In the end, things work out. If they haven't worked out yet, you just haven't reached the end yet."

There are a couple of other sayings that I try to abide by these days, too. These are Japanese:

"Fix the problem, not the blame."

"There are no mistakes, only lessons to be learned."

What I've discovered is that I've gradually simplified my life to where I want it to be, without being aware of it. That simplicity has also brought with it unexpected serenity. I'm at peace. Especially, I'm at peace with myself, finally.

In less than a week I'll turn 59. My last birthday in my fifties. Amazing. When I was 20, I was convinced I would never live to see 30. A legacy, I suspect, of my tumultuous childhood, when every day seemed destined to be my last, so I tried to fit as much into it as I could. This continued into my teens and twenties, thirties and forties. I devoured life, yet found little lasting satisfaction. A bit like eating fairy floss (cotton candy). Sweet, initially, but with no lasting subtance and a bitter-sweet aftertaste.

I was driven by a need to be always working toward something, always living in the future. So I missed the present in the process. I was conscious of it happening, but felt incapable of doing anything to alter it. Like being trapped on a runaway train, watching life happening around me without being particularly connected to it, and a mounting sense of dread about how it will all end.

Not any more.

Now I do almost everything for others. I make time for people. I spend hours every day writing to friends, helping, sharing, suggesting, teaching, listening, or saying nothing... even talking with people on the phone who would have irritated me to the point of exasperation in the past. Now I'm able to put myself in their position and understand their view of the world and, sometimes, offer suggestions or views of my own -- but without the need to have them accept as I would have in the past.

I've become patient.

I'm happy with the changes that have taken place. I like the person I've become. I'm rarely stressed or frustrated and, on the very infrequent occasions when I am, I now stand still and let it flow over and past me until it no longer exists.

With this has come a willingness and ability to negotiate. I surprise myself, regularly, with my considerable skill at negotiating win-win solutions. It's even reached the point where others ask me to act for them in this way -- the exact opposite of where I was just a few short years ago, when I didn't dare attempt to negotiate for myself, because the unbearable uncertainty would often drive me to disastrously destructive behaviour, just to remove the uncertainty.

If you knew me before I moved to my present home, you've probably been pleasantly surprised by these changes (if you've had a chance to notice them). They seem to be lasting, hopefully ingrained.

I'm now at a point where I feel confident that I can undertake some other needed changes, all of which will take time -- possibly years -- to implement properly. But they'll make a huge difference, and they're worth the time and effort.

I have a feeling that 2005 could turn out to be an eventful year for me. It'll be interesting to see what transpires. It's going to involve more travelling than I've done in a long time, and meeting with many more people, including large groups. It's also going to involve much more patience, learning, teaching and negotiating. It should be a fascinating test of the changes already in evidence.

Wish me luck! :)

Weird weather

Where I live, on the south-east coast of Victoria, the southernmost tip of the Australian mainland, we get most of our weather straight off the Southern Ocean.

This is the only ocean that circles the Earth. It's the one used by all those solo round-the-world sailors and yacht races. Waves 10 storeys high are common, and it is wild almost beyond comprehension. The winds sweep straight off Antarctica, the coldest place on the planet.

So, when we get a "cool change", it tends to be a little rough.

Mind you, in summer heat waves, when the temperature soars to 110F in the shade, we welcome late afternoon or early evening cool changes. It seems to follow a 2-3 day cycle, where the heat builds and builds, along with the humidity, then, on the second or third day, late in the day, thunderstorms sweep in across the coast to cool everything down, clean out the air, and restore everything to a sense of balance and proportion again.

In recent years, surfers with a death wish have discovered that, where the Southern Ocean meets the continental shelf about 25 miles or so west of south-eastern Tasmania, they can ride the most humongously huge waves in existence. These are bone-crushing monsters more than 100 feet high and they can kill you. The water temperature is terrifyingly cold. The weather is so tempestuous that just the trip out and back can be fatal!

The southern hemisphere is so different to the northern hemisphere. Despite Antarctica being the coldest place on earth, and the Southern Ocean making North Atlantic storms seem tame by comparison, our climate is temperate. We get no ice or snow.

This is because of the single biggest difference in the two hemispheres: the northern hemisphere is mostly land mass, while the southern hemisphere is mostly ocean. Warm currents bring milder temperatures. So, in the wettest hemisphere, you'll find the world's harshest deserts -- in Australia, southern Africa and South America. Paradox and irony abound here.

In the most sparsely-populated continent (excluding Antarctica), you find the most urbanised society on earth -- ahead of Singapore and Hong Kong! 40% of Australians live in just 3 cities. And 6 of our 8 capital cities are located in the south-east quadrant. 85% of Australians live within 100 miles of the sea.

Our deadliest creatures are amongst the smallest, and the deadliest spider on earth -- the Daddy Long Legs -- has no effective means of delivering its venom.

We have a reputation for savage, deadly shark attacks on our beaches, yet, since records have been kept, more people have died from shark attacks in the USA than in Australia.

It's certainly a place of contrasts. You can see photo albums of the part of Australia where I live at my personal web site at http://www.johncounsel.com/live.

Be sure to read the article by the late Douglas Adams, of "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" fame, titled "Australia, the Confusing Country." It's funny, but mostly true. You can read it here: http://www.johncounsel.com/john/live.html.

A deja vu kind of weekend

Last week, November 13 through 20, was eventful. Work-wise, it marked some real progress on a number of projects that have been haunting me for months. Some I completed at loooooong last, others I managed to move forward significantly. So I ended the week with a real sense of achievement, which, after so many weeks of frustration and frenzy, was a welcome relief.

I spent most of Friday with a fairly new client, consulting on marketing strategy and implementations, then headed off late in the afternoon -- an hour late because I was using my cell phone to check the time, and I'd forgotten to set it forward for daylight saving, which began the previous weekend -- for the city centre to meet an old friend (and client). After a brief meeting I found myself only a mile from the new beauty therapy salon of my 24 yo daughter, Miriam. I hadn't yet seen it, so I called her to check it was okay to call in on her. She seemed delighted at the thought, so I went. I even found a parking spot out the front! (Incredible at any time, let alone late on Friday afternoon.)

Chapel Street is the fashion capital of Australia. Miriam managed to find this salon after exercising the kind of faith we became used to when she was a child. Quite an amazing story, really.

The decor is... well... different. Kind of like a Jetsons TV set designed by Dr Seuss, with colour scheme by Mary Kay Ashe. We had a fairly short visit, big hugs (we're very alike) and a promise to come stay with me soon. Then it was off to Lynne and Esther's place to get ready for the Braeside Stake Ball later that evening. (Braeside is my stake. Lynne and Esther belong to Maroondah Stake, two stakes north of me.) I'd invited Lynne to be my date for the ball and she'd graciously accepted... our first "big" date since our separation two years ago.

I arrived to a real deja vu kind of scene. I guess the weird feeling was enhanced by the fact that I'd only had two hours sleep the previous night, but I was transported back to the first year of our marriage, when we seemed to attend a lot of balls and dances. In the late 60s, ladies had their hair done and rigidly lacquered into place for the big night. Lynne has fine hair that was always difficult to control, and she usually ended up in tears of frustration because the hairdressers could never seem to get it just right. Then there was always the drama over which dress to wear.

I found that the simplest solution then was to help her brush her hair out, wear it loose and choose a dress in which she'd be comfortable and relaxed, because Lynne always looks her best when she's relaxed and happy. There's a radiance that's missing when she feels uptight or uncomfortable. So she got used to me taking charge and putting things right for her in my own inimitable way.

So... here we were, 37 years down the track, facing the same dilemma. What should she wear?

It occurred to me that the solution would still be the same, because the problem was still the same. So I gently took the lead as we worked through the solution. I wanted her to feel beautiful and happy, and to achieve that she would need to feel relaxed, comfortable and confident. Piece of cake! *lol* (Yeah, right... like dancing in a Cambodian meadow!)

She had three outfits she'd chosen. She'd bought them in Italy last year. All three were beautiful, chic, stylish and totally different to each other. Really, she could have worn any of them and looked stunning.

But one would have been too confining for her. So I mentally ruled that out. Another seemed a little casual for a dress-up affair like a ball. That left a superb little black combination of a skirt that appeared to be several layers of fine whispy netting, but cleverly woven from a single layer, and a semi-see-through jacket that wouldn't really be appropriate. So we chose a very feminine embroidered top from her wardrobe that complemented the skirt beautifully and she wore the jacket over it. All in black, which really suits her Winter colour palette. http://www.colormebeautiful.com/colorharmony.html#winter

We headed off down Springvale Road, a major north-south highway that starts near Lynne's place and ends near the Braeside Stake Centre. Easy for giving directions. We stopped on the way to buy some snacks and drinks, always a good idea at Church dances.

We arrived about 30 minutes after the opening of the ball, so parking was available. We could hear the music in the car park, and it sounded great. We entered the Stake Centre to find a 10-piece soul band playing ("Soul Contention"), a harpist playing in the chapel area for those wanting some relief, and plenty of theme decorations everywhere (the Olympics). Everything looked terrific and added to the atmosphere.

The attendance grew steadily and we found seats with some of my Ward members. I introduced Lynne to my friends and asked her to dance. The music was sensational. The lead singer, a recent convert of several months, was really excellent and had everyone up and dancing.

For some unfathomable reason there were no tables for people to put their nibbles and drinks. Not that it really mattered -- we seemed to be the only ones there who'd bothered. But with no drinks or food available until supper, at around 11:00pm, it's a tip that should be heeded for next year.

Highlights of the evening -- for us -- included catching up with friends we hadn't seen in more than 20 years, plus renewing friendships with some of the former Young Single Adults we'd been advisors for in the early 1990s who are now married with young families. We'd had a terrific group of about 35 YSAs in Templestowe Ward, and often had dozens more from across the region at our home and Sunday School classes, pot luck dinners, etc.

I forget how many of them served missions, but at one time we had 17 of them serving at the same time, all around the world, all from the same ward. It was a fabulous time and we were thrilled to see some of them once more.

The BIG surprise of the night for me was when Lynne "threw in the towel" at 11:30pm, saying she couldn't dance another step. In the past it's always been me who caved in, usually fairly early. So we made our farewells and headed home to her place.

It was a really enjoyable evening and we've talked a lot since then. It felt good to hold the woman I love, and the mother of my five children, in my arms again and just relax and enjoy her company. She looked beautiful and was the centre of a lot of attention, especially from people who didn't know who she was. Her enthusiastic welcome by so many friends from the past caused much interest, and it was great for Lynne's self-esteem to be surrounded by happy, excited people who were obviously delighted to see her.

Maybe Maroondah Stake will have a ball soon? (I can only live in hope!) *lol*

It was a wonderful evening.

Esther Wins the BIG One :)

Esther's my youngest daughter. She's 15 and goes to Doncaster East Secondary College where she's in Year 9. You can meet her here:
http://www.johncounsel.com/john/family.html (click the link for Esther).

Like her mother and maternal grandmother, she's an actress, and she wants to pursue a career in music theatre.

I've seen her in a couple of school musicals -- the latest one "Bye Bye Birdie", in which she played a mother -- and she's done well, but nothing that really showcases her talents. (She has a beautiful voice, like her older sister and brother, who are both trained opera singers.)

Earlier this year she joined Fresh Youth Theatre http://www.blackburncare.org/fresh/index.htm and played a very funny "second banana" turtle in a play based on Dr Seuss' "Yurtle the Turtle", for which she won "Best Comedy Performance". She was very good.

Last weekend she was in two performances by Fresh Youth Theatre. In the first she sang and played a small part, which she did very convincingly. In the second, she played a drug addicted houswife. I was stunned.

Esther was sensational. Such a range of emotions and insight. She received huge applause several times, and most of the audience sought out her photo on the foyer display afterward, raving about her performance.

Lynne, my wife with whom she lives in Melbourne, attended the following night -- the final night -- when the awards were handed out. Lynne rang around 9:30pm (woke me up in front of the TV!) in tears. I thought something had gone horribly wrong.

She'd been moved to tears by Esther's performance, as I had been. But then, when the awards were announced, the Best Dramatic Actress award went to another girl, who'd been very good, but not in the same class as Esther's stunning performance.

Lynne was watching Esther closely and could see she was bitterly disappointed not to win ANY award this season.

Then the Director of Fresh announced the major award: the "Breath of Fresh" Award, awarded to the teenager who most represented all that Fresh was about for the entire year -- personal growth, maturity, social impact on the group, etc etc -- and the winner was none other than Esther Counsel, who had made a powerful impact on the entire organisation with her talent, her commitment, her personal qualities, her friendliness, her encouragement and example to the other kids, etc etc etc.

She received a standing ovation and long cheers and hugs from the audience and cast and crew, and went off to the after-production party walking on air, radiant, leaving her mother a cot case. *lol*

This was so much better for Esther, who did this entirely on her own merits, on her own level, and it was a dazzling endorsement of everything we've discussed about her need to be a leader and to set new standards for those she mixes with, and her willingness to put in the consistent effort to achieve this, even if it meant no public acclaim.

Needless to say, we're thrilled with and for her. :)

Idiot versus Lunatic?

I was reminded, driving home last night, of the difference between an idiot and a lunatic:

Anyone who drives slower than you is an idiot, while anyone who drives faster than you is a lunatic!

Wrap-up of the Bilson Street musical

(Written on Friday 29 October.)

My sister, Marg, and I were invited to a series of events at Wonthaggi Primary School this morning as a wind-up of the musical project.

I was at the school earlier this week to arrange return of sound equipment, etc. Post Production Blues had set in amongst the kids BIG time. The grade 6 teachers said it was hopeless -- the kids moped around, couldn't get into any work, etc. All familiar stuff, so I advised them to just deal with it and they'd eventually settle back into their regular routine.

First thing today was a whole-school assembly in the gymnasium. The Bilson Street Singers and Orchestra, a legacy of the show, performed a medley of songs from the show, plus one they'd written about us to the tune of the show's theme song. Very funny! :)

Then we were presented with a series of short speeches by kids from different groups associated with the production -- the writers, the principal actors, the back stage crew, the orchestra, etc -- recounting the changes and experiences they'd undergone as a result of their involvement. For me, this is what it's all about. I love seeing young lives changed for the better in this way.

Most interesting to me, personally, was the response of the writers. Only one of the 12 writers actually had a principal role, and that was by default when one of the cast was expelled from the production for misbehaviour and Ryan, as understudy, had to fill the vacancy late in the day.

Emma R. spoke for them all. She played flute in the orchestra. She told how they'd all felt a bit left out of things after the intensity of the 3-day residential writers' workshop, and had a hard time adjusting to being out of the limelight during the long months of rehearsals and preparation.

But finally seeing their creation in living, breathing, colourful, musical reality -- and being honoured in the curtain calls and celebrations, etc -- had had a profound impact on them. They still hang out as a group, bound by their common experience, and share ideas, etc.

Marg and I were also presented with engraved gifts (mine was a barometer and thermometer with a neat little plaque, Marg's an antique clock with computerised chimes, which she really likes) and thank-you letters from the school. We presented the school with a large binder filled with photos, documents, copies of the script, schedules, notices, etc, plus a series of CD-ROMs containing the complete system we've created so they can use it in mounting future productions.

Then we were invited to the kids' post production party from 10am to 11 am. The 12 writers had been given the responsibility of planning and organising the event, and they did a fabulous job -- really creative. They were the hosts for the 12 grades involved, too. Everyone received lollies, ice creams, cakes, etc and we all had a ton of fun.

Then there was a special morning tea from the School Council, which runs the school, for all the adults (staff, parents and others) involved in the show. The food was incredible -- we only managed to get through about a quarter of it, and I felt like I was eating constantly, the whole time!

We hadn't realised just how big an impact the project has had on the wider community. There's been so much excitement over what the school achieved. I guess Marg and I have become a bit blase about the production of a show of this kind. We take it in our stride... we have such a clear vision of what's needed and we just organise and delegate and things happen. But this kind of organisational and leadership experience is virtually unknown in this community, at least at this level, so we missed the undercurrents taking place.

I found myself in the midst of a group of about a dozen mums telling how their own lives and self-esteem had improved as a result of their personal involvement, and the impact on their kids' lives. It was such a wonderful way to conclude this episode.

It really hit Marg hard -- to the point where she actually said, publicly, that she'd be willing to be involved again the year after next (she'd been adamant that this was her last production).

I think the fact that it was our old school, our home town, and the really close relationships we've formed with all the kids (we were constantly surrounded by all age groups thanking us, all morning!) and so many notes and cards made by individual children, made the difference. Prior to this, Marg had been the Vice Principal of a school in Melbourne, and a school production had been part of her duties. She enjoyed it, but it was still only one element in her overall role. This time, it was the entire context and focus, so she got to see it in proper perspective.

I've uploaded a copy of the letter I received from the school for you to read on my site if you're interested. Reading it was the first time I realised how the others involved must have felt during the last couple of days before opening.

I'm so used to pulling the technical side of a show together overnight, with all the resources I need and people I'm used to working with (eg: the lighting guy, Peter D., a permanently incapacitated Vietnam vet the same age as me -- Agent Orange syndrome -- is an old hand from working together on several productions in the 70s and 80s, and he jumped at the chance to work together again) and the same with Wayne F., the young sound engineer -- he was really keen to work with me.

We had NO technical rehearsal. Peter and I plotted the lighting on the fly and created the cue sheet on the run 30 minutes before opening (for Act 1) and at interval (for Act 2). Piece of cake for old hands like us *lol*. Especially with radio intercoms to keep us in touch while winging it.

But the principal and others were quite traumatised by the seeming lack of technical preparation. The opening performance was an utter revelation for them. And for the kids... the biggest problem we had was getting the kids to stop watching the lighting and multi-media effects while on stage, because we'd been unable to get into the theatre until two days before opening night due to a heavy schedule of earlier events. The opening night was the first time anyone had seen the complete vision in full realisation. Hence the euphoria -- at least half of it was sheer relief, I suspect! *lol*

It really must have seemed like a miracle to them, I can see now. But it was basically under control and in experienced hands. It makes a humongous difference, obviously. :)

Okay... enough of the show. It's over now. Fun while it lasted, but work has stacked up a mile high. Esther can't come down for this weekend or the next because of a show she's starring in, so I'll have some time for a concentrated burst.

http://www.childrenstheatrevictoria.com/schools/disappearance/
(Photos from the show will be on-line shortly!)

Opening night!

This was originally written on 21 October 2004.



What a week! *lol*

Last night was opening night of the school musical. I'd carefully scheduled all the things still needing to be done on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday so that everything would dovetail neatly in time for the opening.

Yeah... right!

First variation to that plan was discovering late on Tuesday that there was nowhere at the theatre to suspend a data projector, despite being told repeatedly that there was. (The person in charge thought a data projector was the same as a cinema projector!)

Luckily, we have talented parents at the school, so two engineers created an ingenious suspension cradle for us overnight and it worked perfectly. Then we found there was no cabling to link a laptop to the data projector, and no stores or service businesses in town could supply us with a 60 foot long video cable.

This is why I have my trusty business partner, John Crooks, who's based in Melbourne. Within 90 minutes he'd had one made by a wholesale computer company, at less cost than buying a 10 foot cable at Tandy, and shipped to us overnight by courier.

The next challenge was me falling asleep at the keyboard in the middle of finishing the multi-media presentation for Act 2, at about 2am yesterday morning. Bad enough to lose 5 hours sleeping -- but I managed to erase 90% of the multi-media presentation in the process! So I lost another 5 hours re-doing all that work! The multi media is critical to the plot development -- it projects onto the giant computer monitor (16 feet high by 20 feet wide).

At 3:30pm -- 4 hours before opening -- I realised I hadn't finished editing and recording the sound effects for the show! Panic stations!

Home to my place where I have a small recording and editing suite. Back to the theatre at 6 pm with the CD-ROM hot off the burner, untested. It worked!

Then I realised I hadn't printed out the technical scripts for lighting, sound and multi-media, or for the stage manager. And no time to do it. So we grabbed some of the kids' scripts (they no longer needed them -- they were either ready or it was too late for them!) and spent half an hour going through them with the sound and lighting people (I had to run the multi-media stuff, since no-one else knew what it contained, or the cues to interact with the actors). We finished this meeting (for the first act only -- act two we discussed at interval!) 10 minutes before the curtain opened.

*Whew!*

Apart from a few minor dramas supplementary to the main drama, such as the stage crew forgetting to warm up the fog machine for 15 minutes before the spectacular revealing of the giant computer screen, so nothing happened, and an audience member unwittingly disconnecting the cable from the CD player to the sound mixing desk, everything went well and the capacity audience was thrilled with the performance. The kids all did wonderfully, the 19 piece orchestra was terrific and the costumes looked spectacular.

I came home to almost 800 emails and around 30 phone messages from clients, friends, etc who have been largely ignored the past few days, so I dealt with them, one way or another (!), and got a good night's sleep. I have a full day producing and consulting for desperate clients all day today and tomorrow.

Oh... and John Crooks arrived on my doorstep at about 5pm in the middle of the recording and editing session. He decided he wanted to see the show for himself. (He loved it.)

Another capacity crowd tonight, including Lynne and Esther, our 15 yo youngest daughter, who are driving down the coast from Melbourne to see it. Esther helped the principal actors as a dialogue and drama coach while she stayed with me for the 4 weeks Lynne was away in Canada and Florida, and they're looking forward to seeing her again. So many of the parents of kids in the show were in Lynne's shows at the school between 1977 and 1986, and they're looking forward to catching up with her -- she'll be here all night! *lol*

Actually, the principal of the school has been overwhelmed by the level of parental support for the show. He couldn't understand why they were all so keen to be involved. I explained to him that they were products of a culture that developed over that decade that was missing from their kids' lives, and they were excited to have it back again. They wanted it for their children -- and for themselves! :) (I can't go shopping without being waylaid by excited parents in recent weeks.)

So it's been a huge success so far. Changed many children's lives permanently, which is what it's really about for me. Kids who were outcasts, the butt of unkind jokes, who looked "different" or "funny", or had physical or intellectual disabilities... all of whom are the school's new heroes -- whose status has changed irrevocably, who have newfound self-esteem and acclaim. Wonderful to watch and be a part of. :)

Next: The Wrap-up on the Musical

Disappearance.com -- beginnings

Over the past 18 months I've been involved in the writing and production of a musical by the kids at Wonthaggi Primary School.

Referred to locally as "Bilson Street" because it's the oldest of five primary schools in the town, this is the school where my sister Marg and I spent two happy years in the mid-1950s, where three of my own children started school, and where my wife taught art, craft and drama for almost a decade.

Lynne had produced a series of annual musicals, most of which I'd written, during the 1970s and 80s. But, after we moved to Melbourne at the start of 1987, that tradition ceased, and the culture that had developed around it in the school community died out.

When I moved back to Wonthaggi after Lynne and I separated in late 2002, I decided it would be good to have a project to occupy my spare time (!), so I approached the school principal with a proposal for a new musical production in march of 2003.

He was cautiously keen (optimistically suspicious might be a better way to put it). Over the remainder of 2003 he enlisted the support of the School Council and most of the staff, a number of whom had been young teachers at the school when Lynne was teaching there.

So, at the beginning of 2004, it was decided to create a new musical for the entire school, to be written by the children (including the music) and produced and directed by Marg and yours truly.

We organised a 3-day writers' camp at nearby Inverloch and, with the help of senior teachers, chose 12 kids from grades 5 and 6 to participate, based on their applications. You can read about the Writers' Camp here:

http://www.childrenstheatrevictoria.com/schools/disappearance/writerscamp1.html

(The photos section is restricted by the school's Internet policy to protect the kids.)

You can learn more about the project in general here:

http://www.childrenstheatrevictoria.com/schools/disappearance/

In a nutshell, the group created the plot in less than an hour, then formed four groups of 3 writers to take a main scene each. They completed the script by that evening, then wrote the six songs the next day. The first reading took place on the second evening at the camp, and we knew we had something special on our hands... a very talented bunch of youngsters, indeed!

Then followed months of rehearsing and planning, preparation and delegation. We wanted to create a duplicable system for this kind of event that could be packaged and used by any school, anywhere, to create and present a really enjoyable musical production that would raise self-esteem, boost co-operation and interaction across the entire school community, and give children a chance to demonstrate their talents and skills in performing and visual arts in a truly spectacular fashion.

In the next blog, I'll tell you what happened in the immediate lead-up to the show.

Let's kick-start this thing!

Hi, and welcome to my personal blog.

If you already know me, then you'll be aware of my idiosyncracies and interests. If you don't know me yet, here are some links to my personal sites, where you can find out almost everything you could ever want to know about me.

http://www.johncounsel.com/ -- my personal web site.
http://www.profitclinic.com/about -- my main business site.
http://www.johncounsel.com/nwm -- my alternative business site.
http://www.angus-world.com/ -- my dog, Angus, has his own popular site.

You can view my professional profile here:
http://www.profitclinic.com/profile/john.html

I'm an Aspie -- I have Asperger's Syndrome, a neurological condition on the mild/genius end of the autism spectrum -- and, while I'm very mildly affected and exceptionally self-aware, I prefer to be completely up-front about it. It doesn't define me, but it certainly helps to explain me. You can learn more here:
http://www.johncounsel.com/asx
http://www.johncounsel.com/asx/reflection.html

I'm also an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and no, I'm not interested in debating it. You can learn more here:
http://www.johncounsel.com/lds
http://www.lds.org

I'm the Executive Director of The Children's Theatre Company of Victoria and I write kids' musicals for fun.
http://www.childrenstheatrevictoria.com

Okay... that should provide you with enough background to understand where I'm coming from in any comments you read here. I'll update this blog every few days.

Thanks for dropping by!

John