This Saturday, our 10 year reunion takes place. The Class of 98 will get together and reminise about the old times, we'll have a few laughs, share some stories and get people we haven't seen for a while up to speed on our exploits since we said goodbye to our secondary schooling lives. Of course, everyone attending is anticipating a good night. There will be something missing however, something that will be in the back of our minds as we kick back and enjoy ourselves, something that will make the whole event seem incomplete.
Alfie wont be there.
Alfred Charles Frichot was one of a kind. He was the strange kid from the bush who, rumor has it, came out of the womb sporting a goatee. Alfred may have had his eccentricities, but beneath it all was a huge heart that was solid gold. If something was wrong, Alfie would make sure you were ok. If you were down, he'd make you smile. If you needed something, Alfie would try his best to see you got it. When he got his license, he'd only be too happy to give his mates a lift in his wagon, of which he was so proud. The thing about Alfie was, he was everybodys mate. It was rare you'd find someone who didn't have kind word about Alf, he was the sort of guy who could just get along with anyone. He was friendly (almost to a fault), outgoing, fun loving and full of a genuine love of life.
I first met Alfie in 1992, as most of us attending the event this Saturday did. We were all wide eyed, somewhat scared grade 6 students attending orientation day at ACC. We huddled together in our school groups when we arrived on that first morning, except for this strange, olive skinned kid with the 5 o'clock shadow. We were split into what would be our classes for year 7 and sure enough, there he was. First session of the morning was English. We were asked to tell everyone our name and give some of our interests. After the first dozen or so people had given their stock standard responses (football, basketball, music, computers etc.) the olive skinned boy was asked what his name was, and what were his interests. He replied with a confidence the other 20 or so other people together couldn't muster "My name is Alfed Frichot and I like reptiles." Perhaps it seems like an unremarkable thing to say, however the way Alfie moved when he said it, lithly wiggling his shoulders up and down in the same pattern as you would expect a snake that was being stalked through the grass to make, made this person seem genuine. Anyone could have said they went out and caught snakes and lizards and been lieing. Not Alfred, he was who he was, take it or leave it. He wasn't about to be judged by a bunch of town kids, if they didn't like who he was, bad luck for them.
Over the years Alfie would amuse us, shock us and most of all, touch our lives in ways that we never thought imaginable at the time. Whether it was shaving half his hair off, leaving one side bald whilst sporting a mighty 90's undercut on the other, or presenting the girl he was smitten with with a bunch of flowers in the hallway, or performing one of his acoustic guitar sets at lunchtime in the library, or taking a group of people to McDonalds at lunchtime or after school after he got his car. That was Alfred, he was always himself, and we wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
As you can see, my blogspace is called Shot Down Before My Prime. Blogs are a self absorbed thing really. Those of us who have blogs think that our opinions matter so much that we have to share them with the world. Alfred wouldn't have had a blog, or facebook or myspace or perhaps even a computer. He was a simple guy, who had simple pleasures. And he truly was shot down before his prime. Alfred had the world at his feet when he was tragically killed in the farm accident in 2004. He was working on a dairy farm, being the country boy he always was. He was engaged to be married. He had something most of us would kill for, the life he actually wanted to lead. And foe him to be struck down in such a freak accident at such a young age shook everyone who knew him to the core. We always just thought Alfie would be there. That we could ring him up and have a chat and of course a few laughs. He should be there with us on Saturday night, having a few beverages and swapping stories. And he will be, not in person of course, but in our hearts and minds, and in spirit. It will be bittersweet in a way, but Alfie will be watching from heaven, a halo over the tattered old black hat that had the beer bottles around the brim, angel wings sprouting from between his shoulder blades of his flannel shirt, running amok as only Alfred could.
We'll miss you this Saturday night Alfred.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
You May Not Look Like Much, But You're Pro At Believing That You're The Best
As most people who know me know, I play poker. Am I good? Not really, i'm at best average, and that's probably a stretch anyways. There are however, some absolute PROS that play poker in our region. You probably have them wherever you play too. Yep, people who think and act so superior to everyone else not just at the table, but at the venue, that it's a shock they are playing in some small little free pub game. Maybe they are doing it to show us lesser players, us mere poker mortals, just how great they are. It's strange to me because if I was ever as good as these pillars of the game, I probably would be on the pro circuit. But no, these heroes come along to the free poker events in pubs and clubs, possibly because they want to shun the spotlight and prefer their menial jobs over that of jetting arounbd the world playing poker, or possibly because they want the rest of us to for once be able to rub shoulders with greatness (albeit every week). I have found that there are 2 types of these pros, the first is...
THE KNOWS IT ALL PRO.
These people are kind enough to shower us with their immense poker knowledge before the game, as well as during the game and after the game...or on the turbo/losers table. They are amazing at reading what cards EVERY SINGLE PLAYER HAS, and will turn to each other and say things such as 'I knew he had pocket 7s' or 'Oh you overplayed that hand, you could have got more out of me' or perhaps they will sit there and critique your play and boast about how they knew what you had, they would have done this, blah blah blah, especially after they've lost a hand to you. The know all the terminology (eg. 'I knew pre-flop that I was sitting on the nuts, he was on tilt and trying to bluff my bullets with his cowboys, he totally overplayed it') and recall everyhand they play and why they would have won if they didn't. It's great that we have such knowledgeable, and let's face it, brilliant people around to tell all us players beneath them what they know, which appears to be everything.
The second type is
THE 'I LOOK LIKE I AM A REAL PROS' PRO' PRO
These people normally sit with their head down, hat pulled down over their eyes (usually not hair, because they are receding) play with their chips constantly, REFUSE to smile or even speak and use extravagent hand gestures whether calling, folding, scrathing themselves or whatever. And these players can be just as smug as type one people. If they beat you in a hand, you usually get a contemptious 'how dare you even consider playing against me' look, and if by some fluke you beat these superstars, they let out a contemptious snort. Of course, they lost the hand, you didn't win it. They are so absorbed i themselves at the table they fail to realise that they look like complete tools, and there's a good reason why these people are single.
My question, if these players are so good, why didn't I see them on tv at the World Series Of Poker? I had two type 1 players and type 2 player on my table tonight. Why were they playing in a club dining room, not in Vegas? Or even Crown? How come their work clothes don't have Full Tilt or Poker Stars logos on them? Perhaps I shouldn't be complaining, I mean I should be privledged to be in the same room as them. But funnily, at the end of the day, myself and most people I know end up thinking the same thing about them...
fucking wankers.
THE KNOWS IT ALL PRO.
These people are kind enough to shower us with their immense poker knowledge before the game, as well as during the game and after the game...or on the turbo/losers table. They are amazing at reading what cards EVERY SINGLE PLAYER HAS, and will turn to each other and say things such as 'I knew he had pocket 7s' or 'Oh you overplayed that hand, you could have got more out of me' or perhaps they will sit there and critique your play and boast about how they knew what you had, they would have done this, blah blah blah, especially after they've lost a hand to you. The know all the terminology (eg. 'I knew pre-flop that I was sitting on the nuts, he was on tilt and trying to bluff my bullets with his cowboys, he totally overplayed it') and recall everyhand they play and why they would have won if they didn't. It's great that we have such knowledgeable, and let's face it, brilliant people around to tell all us players beneath them what they know, which appears to be everything.
The second type is
THE 'I LOOK LIKE I AM A REAL PROS' PRO' PRO
These people normally sit with their head down, hat pulled down over their eyes (usually not hair, because they are receding) play with their chips constantly, REFUSE to smile or even speak and use extravagent hand gestures whether calling, folding, scrathing themselves or whatever. And these players can be just as smug as type one people. If they beat you in a hand, you usually get a contemptious 'how dare you even consider playing against me' look, and if by some fluke you beat these superstars, they let out a contemptious snort. Of course, they lost the hand, you didn't win it. They are so absorbed i themselves at the table they fail to realise that they look like complete tools, and there's a good reason why these people are single.
My question, if these players are so good, why didn't I see them on tv at the World Series Of Poker? I had two type 1 players and type 2 player on my table tonight. Why were they playing in a club dining room, not in Vegas? Or even Crown? How come their work clothes don't have Full Tilt or Poker Stars logos on them? Perhaps I shouldn't be complaining, I mean I should be privledged to be in the same room as them. But funnily, at the end of the day, myself and most people I know end up thinking the same thing about them...
fucking wankers.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Let's Give The Old Dear A Good Send Off.
*DISCLAIMER* THIS IS A PRETTY MUCH ONE TOWN CENTRIC EDITION OF MY BLOG, SO IF YOU KNOW WHAT THE GOLDEN GATEWAY FESTIVAL IS FEEL FREE TO READ ON, BUT IF YOU DON'T WELL, YOU CAN READ IT IF YOU LIKE, BUT IT MAY NOT MAKE A GREAT DEAL OF SENSE TO YOU. BTW, THE GOLDEN GATEWAY FESTIVAL MAKES NO SENSE TO ME AT ALL... thanks...
Well, as promised i'm blogging today about something that alot of us grew up with, the grand old girl herself, the Golden Gateway Festival. The Golden Gateway Festival is turning 50 next year, and as this years festival wraps up, I think it's time we gave it a looking over. Let's face it, the Festival is tired, It may be turning 50, but it looks and feels so much older. And it needs to be scrapped. First of all, the Golden Gateway Queen Quest must go. It is the epitomy of what is wrong with the Golden Gateway Festival. Nearly every year we have seen an aged male member of the community given a ridiculous plastic crown and scepter and paraded around town. The recipient says it's an honour to be festival king. Wow, I can't wait for the day when I get honoured by being dressed up in a crappy cape and the above mentioned headgear and made to look like a clown in front of the community i've worked so hard for over the span of my life. Yet, I can hear the dissenters, the people still clutching at the frayed hems of this faded old girls once stylish but now horribly outdated ballgown, say things like 'Oh but the children love seeing the king' or 'it's a benefit to our rural city'. Ok let's get one thing clear, the kids don't love seeing the king, the kids love getting out of school for a while and if that means having to see an old man wearing a throw rug then they'll do it, hey it beats the hell out of doing fractions right? Secondly, I fail to see how this is a benefit to the rural city. The tourists aren't exactly beating down the doors trying to make it to the Golden Gateway Festival. We all know the Jailhouse Rock Festival is kind of lame, but at least it gets new people coming here and spending money into our local community. Tourists come to the Jailhouse Rock and the Grampians Grape Escape weekend, but the Golden Gateway Festival? Anyone who truly believes it has a REAL benefit to our town is kidding themselves.
Onto the absolute WORST part of the whole decrepid festival, the queen quest. Every year local young ladies (and when I say young, the eldest entrant this year would have been 22) get drawn in with the promise of money from sponsors to buy a new dress for the evening and a night out and what do they win? The chance to hang off the arm of a man old enough to be their grandfather. This years king was 72 years old, the queen was 19. That's correct, when the queen was born, the king was 53 years 'young'. When the king retired from working (1999) the queen was in primary school. Anyone else see something wrong with this? These young ladies are judged (and when I say judged, i mean JUDGED right Mr. Braithwaite? 'We have certain standards we have to uphold' Well Mr Braithwaite, my blog has a standard too, and it's not very high, so fuck you, you arrogant jerk. Oh and btw, congratulations for supporting the local business people. How do you shop locally when you live in Melbourne?) and paraded around like stock at a sale yard. It's a joke, only it stopped being funny years ago. This year there were eleven entrants, impressive right? Yeah, except that probably eight of them didn't want to win and were only in it for the night out.
This blog is not here to desparige some of the hard working people on the festival commitee, because most of them do put in an enourmous amount of volunteer hours for the festival, and truly believe it's still relevant. I may disagree with them, but I respect the effort the put in (except the person mentioned above.). Here, however is what I would like to see. Let the festival celebrate fifty years next year, then shut it down. Replace the queen ball with a charity fundraiser ball, raising money for local charities. This year people had to pay $25 for nothing more than to sit squashed in together on a tressle table. That's it for $25? Where does the money go? If it already is funneled to a charity, great, but it's kept pretty quiet if it does. Would you be happy to pay $25 just to get into the Town Hall not knowing where the money goes and getting little to nothing in return, or would you prefer to pay $25 or more knowing the money is going to a worthy cause? I know which one i'd prefer (the second one, if you were wondering). The festival now is like that old family dog you've had since you were a kid. You love it, but it's dying a slow death. Let's put the festival out of it's misery.
Well, as promised i'm blogging today about something that alot of us grew up with, the grand old girl herself, the Golden Gateway Festival. The Golden Gateway Festival is turning 50 next year, and as this years festival wraps up, I think it's time we gave it a looking over. Let's face it, the Festival is tired, It may be turning 50, but it looks and feels so much older. And it needs to be scrapped. First of all, the Golden Gateway Queen Quest must go. It is the epitomy of what is wrong with the Golden Gateway Festival. Nearly every year we have seen an aged male member of the community given a ridiculous plastic crown and scepter and paraded around town. The recipient says it's an honour to be festival king. Wow, I can't wait for the day when I get honoured by being dressed up in a crappy cape and the above mentioned headgear and made to look like a clown in front of the community i've worked so hard for over the span of my life. Yet, I can hear the dissenters, the people still clutching at the frayed hems of this faded old girls once stylish but now horribly outdated ballgown, say things like 'Oh but the children love seeing the king' or 'it's a benefit to our rural city'. Ok let's get one thing clear, the kids don't love seeing the king, the kids love getting out of school for a while and if that means having to see an old man wearing a throw rug then they'll do it, hey it beats the hell out of doing fractions right? Secondly, I fail to see how this is a benefit to the rural city. The tourists aren't exactly beating down the doors trying to make it to the Golden Gateway Festival. We all know the Jailhouse Rock Festival is kind of lame, but at least it gets new people coming here and spending money into our local community. Tourists come to the Jailhouse Rock and the Grampians Grape Escape weekend, but the Golden Gateway Festival? Anyone who truly believes it has a REAL benefit to our town is kidding themselves.
Onto the absolute WORST part of the whole decrepid festival, the queen quest. Every year local young ladies (and when I say young, the eldest entrant this year would have been 22) get drawn in with the promise of money from sponsors to buy a new dress for the evening and a night out and what do they win? The chance to hang off the arm of a man old enough to be their grandfather. This years king was 72 years old, the queen was 19. That's correct, when the queen was born, the king was 53 years 'young'. When the king retired from working (1999) the queen was in primary school. Anyone else see something wrong with this? These young ladies are judged (and when I say judged, i mean JUDGED right Mr. Braithwaite? 'We have certain standards we have to uphold' Well Mr Braithwaite, my blog has a standard too, and it's not very high, so fuck you, you arrogant jerk. Oh and btw, congratulations for supporting the local business people. How do you shop locally when you live in Melbourne?) and paraded around like stock at a sale yard. It's a joke, only it stopped being funny years ago. This year there were eleven entrants, impressive right? Yeah, except that probably eight of them didn't want to win and were only in it for the night out.
This blog is not here to desparige some of the hard working people on the festival commitee, because most of them do put in an enourmous amount of volunteer hours for the festival, and truly believe it's still relevant. I may disagree with them, but I respect the effort the put in (except the person mentioned above.). Here, however is what I would like to see. Let the festival celebrate fifty years next year, then shut it down. Replace the queen ball with a charity fundraiser ball, raising money for local charities. This year people had to pay $25 for nothing more than to sit squashed in together on a tressle table. That's it for $25? Where does the money go? If it already is funneled to a charity, great, but it's kept pretty quiet if it does. Would you be happy to pay $25 just to get into the Town Hall not knowing where the money goes and getting little to nothing in return, or would you prefer to pay $25 or more knowing the money is going to a worthy cause? I know which one i'd prefer (the second one, if you were wondering). The festival now is like that old family dog you've had since you were a kid. You love it, but it's dying a slow death. Let's put the festival out of it's misery.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
My Blog And Other Random Musings
So here is my blogspot, as you would know by now it's called shot down before my prime. Why did I choose this name? It was the lyrics from the song that was in my head at the time, I think the song is called 'Headfirst For Halos' by My Chemical Romance off the album 'I Bought You My Bullets, You Bought Me Your Love' this is the album cover below if you are interested.
SO after posting some mildly amusing things on facebook, which really only people from around here would find funny, I decided to create my own blog. Actually it was after my 'You Know When You Are From Ararat...' list that I put on facebook got picked up by someone and became internet spam that I though my own blog was due. I hope to keep this fairly up to date, but I am lazy so I may not. The topics will be random, maybe whatever's in the news, music, movies and tv, sport, some feeble attempt at humor and of course, local stuff that's happening in the Ararat Rural City region, so if you're keen to see what my random musings are then check them out, if not, then you are a clever person who would rather not waste the portoin of time it takes to read these and rather do something constructive. If so I applaud your good judgement.
Anyways, enough of the intro crap, onto the i'm sure highly anticipated random musings.
The Golden Gateway Festival is in full swing... I know, I can't believe i'm here on the computer when I could be out enjoying everything the festival has to offer like...um...well, there's that free lunchtime concert featuring Rodney Vincent.
Yes. Rodney Vincent. First of all I can't believe there are pictures of this guy on the net, and second of all, In my satirical pics I posted in the 2008 Golden Gateway Ball Event on facebook, I had a picture of the Delltones with the sarcastic 'The hippest bands play the Golden Gateway Ball' line. I seriously didn't think that could be outlamed but sure enough, the show society did it. I mean come on Rodney Vincent??? Really???? At least people still pay to see the Delltones, this guy has to put on FREE CONCERTS to bring the punters in. My next blog will be all about the Golden Gateway Festival, but this had to be mentioned.
I am a Simpsons fan, but seriously, it's lost it. At least they aren't shoving the Rich Texan and Lindsey neagle down our throats every episode anymore.
Seriously, I fucking hate these characters. And no Family Guy is not better. I like Family Guy too, but watch the 'Cartoon Wars Parts1 & 2' of Southpark and you'll see them satirise Family Guy to a t.
Great excitment here atm with the news that the Australian Prime Minister Mr Rudd may actually be paying a visit to the country that elected him.
I don't get Crocs, i'm sorry but I never will.
Check out this great website: http://www.bushorchimp.com/
That's it for now. I'll be back soon with more stupid crap. probably pictures with try hard captions or something.
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