Motivation guaranteed

Social media is riddled with motivation pictures’ clogging up news feeds these days, all with the purpose of making the world fluffy and safe, and to help us as a society to be more than we are. To be honest, most of them give me the shits.



Exhibit A

I like a good humorous quote, but anything sounding like it was originally written for a “gift” magnet, only motivates me as far as aspirin and beer. I don’t know what that says about my own insecurities as a man, or as a human being (men and humans being mutually exclusive sets), but I know I am not perfect and I will never compare to a picture of a basket of puppies with an earnest caption. Or even smell as good. Will reading every single one make me a better person?

If I had to pick a motto my first choice would have to be “if it wasn’t for the last minute, nothing would get done”. It is an unspoken rule of the world. For example, just look at the policy output of governments when they are moving into an election year. Suddenly there are all sorts of spending and policy splurges that would have been wasted midway through the term. Who remembers anything good from two years in? Only Rupert Murdoch, and he only remembers if he likes you.

Doing stuff after the last minute is pointless, so you need that last minute to squeeze out all you can. If it wasn't for that last minute my team would never win, or I would never be able to catch a bus, see the supermarket open, or even get to my job on time.

I understand it is not a saying for everyone. It is in the best interests of an emergency room surgeon to do a little bit more before that last minute. People tend to get nervous when their family member is bleeding out on the table. After sitting on his arse for three years, Michael Phelps three months out from the London Olympics can’t suddenly think “shit, better go for a swim”. He would need to put that bong down a little earlier than that.

The last minute is for optimists living in the present. I am a very much “the present” kind of guy (but more likely a present you would return). I like to enjoy myself in the now, and there is no greater motivation for results than a looming deadline. Eight weeks ago I returned to study in an attempt to gain my Masters. In two weeks I have a major assignment due that is worth 50% of my grade for my current subject. It is no surprise that I haven’t started it yet, jokes are so much more fun to write after all. What do I do instead of writing my assignment? I listen to the advice of a 90’s Australian political satire band called TISM.

Sometime in the next ten thousand years
A comet’s going to wipe out all trace of man
I’m banking on it coming before my end of year exams

Sounds like a good plan as any other, I would be very disappointed if I spent my remaining moments on Earth completing an assignment. The destruction of civilisation as we know is sure grounds for an extension. Right?

What are you putting off right now? And would there be anything I can say to motivate you to do my assignment for me?

Submitting for DudeWrite, ironically early. Who would have thought? Clink on a link and get involved. There is plenty of good reads for you to read out there. All you have to do is follow the links.

Investing in my time

I bought Guitar Hero: Warriors of Rock two weeks ago and I have been showcasing my fret techniques since. I am by no means a fretxpert, but I do think occasionally that the amount of time that I have invested in Guitar Hero over the years; I could have learnt how to play a real instrument.

During school I learnt to play the clarinet. At first glance, it was an obscure choice for a 10 year old boy to pick, particularly since he never heard of one before. It did pay off in the long run; I was the only male woodwind student in my home town. It was me and the chicks for six years.

In fact I landed my first high school girlfriend after a music camp. Somehow I managed to convince a gorgeous year 10 flute player (I was in year 9 at the time... giggady) to put up with my awkwardness for a month. For the time I was batting well above my average, which was the general consensus at school, so it was never going to work out; a good result for Team Nerd.

Music and chicks do go hand in hand; ask anybody who is in a band. However nobody is going to date the dude that can play expert level in Guitar Hero. I know that Dragon Force song from Guitar Hero 2 was hard, but nobody cares.

The two gaming “instruments” that are even remotely close to real instruments are drums and vocals. For example, when playing the drums the neighbours will still tell you to shut up when you get into the grove and the vocalist will think that they are the most import person on Earth; just like real life! For there to be any real life benefit however, all difficulty must be set to “hard” or above.

The guitars, although not being anything close to the real thing, do have real life similarities. The bass, for example, is still so boring it is amazing that anyone picks it and people who choose the guitar think they are awesome no matter how shit they play. No restriction on difficulty level for either.

Even though I have practised more songs with fake instruments than I ever did playing clarinet, Guitar Hero will still be a staple part of my gaming life. Sometimes it is more important to have fun than to focus on what is more beneficial for real life. Real life will be there when you get back.

Locked in nut

As an engineer, it is a general policy that I do not handle tools. There is a reason why tradespeople do what they do, and there is a reason why I just stand around looking useless, because if you give me a screwdriver I am still mostly useless.

On the October long weekend last year, my Girlfriend and I were planning on going out to Monarto Zoo just outside of Adelaide. We met at my place, we got in my car – which I had for only a year at that time – filled it up with petrol and checked the air pressure. After making sure everything was shipshape, we set off on our 45mins journey down the Prince Highway.

Upon leaving the petrol station, I was hearing an odd sound coming from the car. I pulled into another petrol station and evaluated the situation trying to look as masculine as I could. I had picked up a text screw in my right rear tire and I was about to get a flat. There was a long period of swearing. My Girlfriend pointed out the irony of only just checking the air pressure.

After seeing the screw, I started emptying the boot and reassured my girlfriend that we would still be on our way. I got out the spare, the jack, and the tools. Luckily I have had plenty of practice in changing tires on my older cars and there was no need to contact the RAA.

First I got the tire spanner out to loosen the wheel nuts. It did not fit. There was a long period of swearing. I put everything back into the boot, and I drove to the nearest auto part dealer that was open on a public holiday (luckily car lovers do not like to spend time relaxing on a day off).

I bought one of the T shaped multi-sized tire spanner thingy’s, and it was awesome. Four out of the five nuts did not stand a chance, but the fifth one put me on my back. I had not seen anything like it before. All of my previous cars were circa 1983-1992, all with stock wheels and one or two hub caps still attached.

The nut was not hexagonal like a normal nut is. It was round with two little pits. There was a long period of swearing. I stormed back inside the auto part shop.

“What the fuck is going on? What sort of piece of shit nut is this on my car?”

“Doesn’t the T spanner fit sir?” asked the shop attendant professional enough to be oblivious to my swearing.

“It fit for most of them, all but fucking one. This piece of shit is not a normal nut, it has round fucking edges.”

“Do you have mags?” asked a customer, “it sounds like a lock nut.”

“What the fuck is a lock nut?”

“A lock nut is used to stop people from stealing your mags. Is this a new car?”

By now I was starting to realise that I am still useless. “Yeah, I’ve only had it for a year. First time I’ve had to change a tire for it though.”

“There should be an adaptor in either your glove box, or around where you spare tire is kept”. The customer looked at me with a questioned look. As if assessing if my reason were a valid one and he had not just busted me in an attempt to join the lucrative stock wheel theft market.

My ego burst and flew about the room like a deflating balloon. I thanked both the customer and the shop attendant, apologised for my language, and scurried out of the store.

Sure enough, there was an adaptor for the cursed lock nut. It came off easily. I changed the tire, the spare was a normal non-mag rim, and therefore I used the normal wheel nuts that were stored with the aforementioned cursed adaptor. I found them along with another adaptor that would have let me use my original wheel spanner fit the nuts on the mag. There was a long period of swearing.

We took my Girlfriend's car to the zoo. And she drove.