Everyone is well aware that man flu is one of the greatest medical afflictions known to man. The severity of the symptoms mark this illness as a dangerous scourge, and one with which I am now suffering.
A week has passed, and although today I have been out of bed for several hours, I have not yet fully recovered. When I finish this post I plan to return to a horizontal position under my doona, but I am making progress.
I didn't even leave the house for the first four days, during which time I had some lovely ladies providing assistance, demonstrating love through practical care.
My thanks today go out to my mum, my sister and my fiance, and as I am reminded of Paul's injunction to give thanks to God in all circumstances, I also express my gratitude to Him. I'm not thanking him for the man flu which kept me home from work, stuck in bed, and generally unproductive (a condition I detest) for a week, but I am alive, and I am not alone.
In the tradition of the great Charles Dickens, I present to you a tale of two television shows.
I'm watching The Voice Australia season 5, and although I am well versed in the ways of modern television vis-a-vis self promotion and cross promotion, I still find it irritating to have to endure the 'coming up after the break' previews, and the 'before the break' reviews. At the beginning of the show, there's a recap and a preview and then a review and a preview at the end of the show. It's hugely repetitive, and for people like me who watch it all rather than dipping in and out, it's maddening. In my opinion, it minimizes a lot of the potential drama, and diminishes interest and excitement.
Classic case this week. All the advertising for the upcoming blind auditions on The Voice featured a dramatic moment when a singer collapsed on stage. Every single promo, both during the program and between episodes, showed her falling down. I had seen her fall down 47 times before I actually saw her full audition. There was no shock or surprise, no drama at all really. Had I seen it not knowing what was coming I would have been stunned, as were the coaches and the live audience, but I was only relieved that I would not have to see it anymore. Not for a while anyway. The Voice Australia 2016
I was reminded of a time I was watching The Footy Show (NRL). They held an arm wrestling competition which featured some current and ex players. Ben Ross and Wendell Sailor met in the final, and during the struggle, on live television, Sailor broke Ross's arm. The audience fell silent, horrified, as were the show's hosts and the television audience. Producers quickly cut to a break. I could not believe my eyes.
No one knew that was going to happen. It was an incredible and horrific moment. I've seen the accident a number of times since, and each time it has less impact, as was the situation with the Iranian singer who collapsed. I was ready for it, and she was perfectly fine not long after her fall, which I knew was the case as well because if she wasn't, we would have heard about it. The event was pre-recorded and as I said, I had seen her crumple on to the stage 47 times already.
I think the way shows like The Voice are produced and presented to us as viewers, as consumers, says something quite poignant about us as people. What do you think?
I teach English to adult migrants. Last Thursday I was asked to relieve a colleague for the day to allow her to catch up on her paperwork. Her class is a mix of native and non-native speakers of English at all levels from pre-level 1 to level 3. Such a class is not conducive to effective learning, but due to the numbers of students involved it is necessary. It was an interesting and stimulating challenge, and quite a different experience from my class which is a level 2/3 class of non-native speakers. I'm thankful for the opportunity. Two days ago I posted my reflections on the A to Z Blogging challenge. I'm glad it's over, but also glad that I participated in it. Four days ago, my fiance got the results of a needle biopsy which showed no evidence of cancer. Needless to say, I am very thankful for that. Twelve days ago, I started a sexual integrity course at my church. The decision to do this course was the best decision I have made in the past two years. Thankful? You bet.
they are too numerous to mention, thank you to all who visited Square Pegs and
took the time to comment. In particular, I thank the following bloggers for
visiting and commenting more than once.
wonder if the A to Z challenge should be divided into two major categories:
serious stuff and fluff. Maybe it should run backwards too, for something
different Z to A instead of A to Z. Maybe the challenge has become too big for
its own good. Maybe it’s good the way it is.
participate in a weekly blog hop called Celebrate the Small Things. My weekly
contributions attract twice as many, sometimes three times as many page views
as any of my A to Z posts did this year.
interactions with previously acquired blog buddies, comprising me receiving emails
with new posts and me commenting on said posts occasionally, and the writers of
these blogs not replying to my comments (usually), and never commenting on my
posts. The number of people following my blog has not increased as a result of
being involved in the A to Z.
through the list of blogs is time consuming and frustrating, as there are many
bloggers who list but don’t post, a number of whom haven’t posted anything for
months, let alone any fresh content for the A to Z. It’s hard to find blogs
that actually appeal to me, and I also find it frustrating that those blogs, which are pretty ordinary or even rubbish i.m.o, get more comments than mine.
topics are clearly not what the majority of readers want. Too heavy, too
serious. Blogging is yet another form of escapism, something fun to do but if I
never read another food blog, or fluffy animal blog, in my life, I won’t be
I find people posting just pictures or very short articles I think, why the
heck am I busting my gut every day to write something significant. People don’t
want significance. Fluff rules!
year if I do the challenge, I will go all out on fluff. I’ll do the A to Z of
Australian animals, and this will be a winner, and if it’s not, I’ll probably
quit the A to Z. The other thing I could do is simply post excerpts from my
current WIP without any commentary.
sound grumpy now. I am. I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed that I didn’t elicit more
reaction from what I thought were pretty interesting and in some cases
controversial topics to which I reckon most people can relate. Evidently, I’m just not connecting.
A to Z is still good for me as a writer. I take it seriously and it’s
definitely worthwhile in terms of strengthening my writing skills, but is that
enough for me to do it again? Hmmm….
How many times have you walked into a shop, and made your way to the counter, searching the 'impulse buy' shelves surrounding it, before asking the lovely smiling face behind the counter 'Do you have any...?' Fill in the blank for whatever it is you were looking for, then chuckle with me as you remember being told that the thing you wanted was right in front of you.
Same goes for the video store: reluctant to ask for help, as many of us pride riddled humans are, you search for the film for ten minutes or so, then finally surrender and ask for assistance; only to then be shown that it was exactly where you were looking. Right there. As plain as the nose on your face.
If this has never happened to you, I offer hearty congratulations, but when it happened to me again recently, I was struck by how often we are blind to the bleeding obvious. It's very weird. The thing we want is often the hardest thing to locate. Consider your handbags ladies. Have you ever found the thing you wanted sitting right on top of that vast and eclectic collection contained therein?
When it comes to our faults, most of us find it even more difficult to see what is often conspicuous to others. Naturally, our personal character flaws, and especially any honest examination of them, are nowhere near as desirable as a Snickers, or Spectre on DVD, so our blindness in this case can mostly be attributed to a lack of willingness to see.
One final thought. Have you ever considered the irony of the expression 'as plain as the nose on your face'?