No, not the movie.  Me.  The fat boy.  I’m running.  Not now, obviously.  No, I’ve joined a running group here at work.  Twice a week, we all start off at the same time and place, and then for the next half-hour they run away from me.  It’d be a pretty short run the other way around.

Still, I’ve done it thrice now, so I figured it was time to start benchmarking and striving for improvement.  Today we did 4.55 km in 36m 23.14s.  Well, they did it a lot faster, but hey, for the first time, I wasn’t the last one back.

I beat the guy who stopped to buy some lunch and shampoo on the way.

1. Cardio

Yes, this is pretty much stolen directly from the latest zombie film “Zombieland.”  Don’t knock good advice.  In any class 3 or class 4 outbreak, it will eventually come down to you and your feet against a horde and theirs.  Cars run out of petrol, and guns run out of ammunition.  Just like any fight, the best way to win against a zombie is by 50 meters or more in front.

D asked me this the other day.  After about a 3 second “where the hell did that come from?” pause, I mentally shrugged and told him.  Blood, and electricity – the closest I could come to the firing of synapses and neurons, etc.  We then spent the next five minutes googling pictures of the human brain.

I found this most excellent article on Greta Christina’s blog: http://gretachristina.typepad.com/greta_christinas_weblog/2010/01/immorality-of-heaven.html

In a nutshell, it asks the question: how can heaven be heaven if we know our loved ones are in hell?  There’s a lot of supposition and guesswork in there – hell, it’s ALL guesswork when it comes to the supposed afterlife, but it’s a piece designed to make you think, and it did that for me.

First, let’s start with the link.  You may or may not have seen it in the news.  I hadn’t until my wife pointed it out to me.

Link: http://www.smh.com.au/world/childtrafficking-accused-claim-innocence-as-trial-awaits-20100202-n97o.html

Where have we seen this before?  Have we learned nothing from history?  Isn’t this pretty much the same thing that happened with the missionaries of the Age of Discovery?  What about the Stolen Generation?

There’s an inherent sense of superiority I see in here that irks me.  I don’t know why.  Could it be a case of simple lack of forethought?  Even if the parents of these children had died in the quake (which is disputed quite strongly, if you read the article), surely they had extended family.  They’d certainly be better off with grandparents, uncles, even cousins than with a random family full of people they don’t know.

So is this sinister, or very very badly misguided?  I don’t know.  Make up your own mind.  Just think very carefully and do your homework before giving money to relief funds.  Doing research on the funds is harder than just giving and hoping for the best, but honestly, if they deserve your money, don’t you think they deserve as much attention as well?

Don’t even look at the video of the swinging baby. You could be prosecuted.

Today’s entry in the “stupid application of the law” books come from Queensland, where a man has been charged with accessing and uploading child abuse material.

http://www.smh.com.au/articles/2009/03/10/1236447185321.html

Now, the best this could turn out to be is a case of good intentions gone horribly wrong. Chris Illingworth took something that was already widely available across the internet, and added it to another site. He didn’t create the video, had absolutely nothing to do with its content, and yet he’s being singled out.

My mind’s rife with speculation about Susan Cadzow, the specialist pediatrician at Royal Brisbane Children’s Hospital whose witness statement is central to the Queensland Police’s brief of evidence. I’d love to know her motivations for this…

Either way, a man’s life is ruined by this, and it seems like its done for no good reason.

This morning, while I had my sleep-in (I get Saturdays, E gets Sundays), E interviewed our three year old, D.

1. What is something Mummy/Daddy always says to you?
   (Mummy) “Let’s go to the pet shop to buy some fish?”
   (Daddy) “D, can you and pick up the toys, because it’s almost bath time.”

   This is fair enough. I get home most days just before bath time, and I’m the only who gives him his bath most of the time. Last night the toys looked like two tornadoes had run through them, but most of the time the boys have gotten home only just before me, so there’s not that much to pick up.

2. What makes Mummy/Daddy happy?
   (Mummy) “Hugs & kisses.”
   (Daddy) “Tickling me.”

3. What makes Mummy/Daddy sad?
   (Mummy) “Hurting.”
   (Daddy) “Not giving him hugs.”

4. What does Mummy/Daddy make you laugh?
   (Mummy) “Tickles.”
   (Daddy) “Tickling.”

5. What was Mummy/Daddy like as a child?
   (Both) “I don’t know.”

6. How old is Mummy/Daddy?
   (Mummy) “15.”
   (Daddy) “I don’t know.”

   Not sure if my wife was happy to hear that one or not…

7. How tall is Mummy/Daddy?
   (Mummy) “This tall.” (He stood up.)
   (Daddy) “This big.” (Standing tall is what E wrote, but when D says he’s standing tall, he’s usually on tip-toes.)

8. What is Mummy/Daddy’s favourite thing to do?
   (Mummy) “Washing clothes.”
   (Daddy) “Play with blocks.”

9. If Mummy/Daddy becomes famous, what will it be for?

   D didn’t really understand this question, so she didn’t push it.

10. What is Mummy/Daddy really good at?
    (Mummy) “Hanging the clothes outside.”
    (Daddy) “Sleeping.”
11. What does Mummy/Daddy do when you’re not here?
    (Mummy) “Come find me.”
    (Daddy) “I don’t know.”

Because I see too few of these sorts of services offered or in the public eye in Australia:

MensLine is a dedicated service for men with relationship and family concerns.

When you feel like it’s all getting too much, help is as close as the phone.

• All men, all relationships
• Counselling, information and referral
• Staffed by trained professionals
• Confidential
• Anonymous
• Australia-wide
• 24/7
• Cost of a local call (excl.mobiles)

I’ve often lamented the lack of visible men’s support services, especially compared with abundance of women’s support services. I’m glad I found this one.

In a slightly related depressing note, MISC.com.au was the first link that popped up on a google search for “men’s support australia”. From the first paragraph on that page:

The Men’s Information and Support Centre (MISC), formerly known as the Men’s Contact and Resource Centre (MCRC), assisted the South Australian community between 1982 and October 2006. Due to a decision by the State Labor Government to stop its funding, the Centre has now closed. This website is the only service that MISC is currently able to provide. Please ignore MISC’s services listed on this website – they are no longer current. The other third party services listed are still in operation. MISC’s former Executive Director, Mr Rodney Stanton, can be contacted on 0405 772 279.

I’ll leave you to draw conclusions about government funding on this one…

Thanks to joe, one of my longtime friends, this blog now has a name: The Man Cave. The name is partly self-deprecating, since I don’t make any claims to be one of the world’s great thinkers — I merely recycle a lot of good ideas and keep them in circulation, but it’s also a reference to the way that a lot of men handle issues.

John Gray first popularised the man cave in his book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. But where Gray envisioned the man cave as a place to which men retreat until they are ready to deal with the problems, I envision my cave as a place I where I can focus on the problem until I work out my position with regard to it.

So this is it. Welcome to The Man Cave. Enjoy your stay. It’s not messy, it’s supposed to look this way.

No earth-shattering revelations tonight, just a father’s pride.

I have two sons, D (who is 3 ½ ), and M (who is 1 ½). D has always been an early talker, and now M is showing signs of being the same. For all that he’s a carbon copy of me in appearance (down to the same birthmarks), D has always been Mummy’s boy. M, on the other hand, bears no strong resemblance to me, but he’s a lot closer to me emotionally. I’m not sure how much of that is because he can’t claim his mum’s attention as much when he has to compete with his brother, and how much of it is a natural inclination, but I don’t care. He’s Daddy’s boy and I’m not going to look that gift horse in the mouth. Usually dads have to wait a lot longer to be looked up to by their sons (or so I hear).

Back to M. For the first year of his life, he rarely said the word “Mummy.” It’s not that he couldn’t or didn’t know how, he just simply refused to say it. He took to “Daddy” right away. I used to get a little smile when E would try to get him to say “Mummy” and he’d just ignore her. Then she’d prompt him to say “Daddy” and he’d say it back and then look at me. It was one of those cute things that made us smile at him and call him a cheeky bugger. We knew he’d come around eventually. And for the record, he has.

But last night, as we were putting the boys to bed, Daddy scored another one. I was in the study. Apparently, that’s when M decided to construct his first sentence. He walked around his room, then looked up at his mum and asked “Where Daddy?”

That’s my boy!