My favourite places: Rainbow Bay

June 12, 2012 By in Shumpty's Favourite Places Tags: , Leave a comment

This is my second post on the issue of my favourite places.  Rainbow Bay is indeed one of those places.

For those who don’t know where Rainbow Bay is it is on the border of Queensland and New South Wales on the northern side of Point Danger between Coolangatta Beach and Duranbah Beach.  To say I have spent a lot of time in this place would be an understatement.  As a family, the Humphreys’ have spent all but five of our Christmases (if my memory serves me correctly) down at this paradise on the coast.

Initial holidays were spent in the caravan park with my grandparents Allan (who I have already written about in this blog) and Elaine.  To say I loved the times spent in the caravan park on holiday would be an understatement.  I vividly remember hitting the beach from 7am until lunch time and then playing in the park next door to the caravan until sun down.  Friendships were formed over games of cricket or kicks of the soccer ball which ended at the end of the holiday only to recommence the next time one hit the caravan park.

Even in these early years of my life down at Rainbow Bay life was about routine: breakfast, beach, chip sandwiches, play in the park, wait for granddad to return from the pub, dinner at the Club and then games of Uno around the dinner table.  Christmas days were spent in the annex of the caravan.  Our holiday routine was shattered by events out of our control when I was 11: the caravan park was shut and then my grandparents moved to the north coast.

That did not stop the family Humphreys trekking to Rainbow Bay for school holidays and most importantly Christmas however. The only difference between our caravan holidays and those spent in holiday units was the lack of mucking around in the park.  Before I could drink the routine remanded the same: beach, walk, beach, walk, cricket on TV, dinner at the club.  One of the great things about holidays at Rainbow is (well was then) that at Christmas time the place becomes “Little Ipswich” and being that Ipswich is where I am from there were always friends from school or just the next street to knock around with.

As time has moved on all that has really changed, having reached the heady age of 18, is that the routine has now become walk, breakfast, beach, cricket on the TV, chip sandwiches on fresh bread, Twin Towns RSL for a few XXXX Golds and then dinner at the Club.  This routine is repeated save for on golf days.

I have spoken a lot about routine in this post and that is one of the things I love about my yearly sojourns to Rainbow Bay: not only does the place not really change all that much but the routine does not change all that much either.  On holiday, that is often all I want: to descend back into the sameness of routine as a way to relax.

It is the sameness that keeps me coming back (now that it is a personal choice rather than by parental decree): the fact that chicken parmagiana at the Rainbow Bay Surf Life Saving Club is always of the highest quality, the beer in the Sportsman’s Bar of Twin Towns is always at genuine 1970s prices, the chips at Dee and Paul’s Cafe are always crisp and go perfectly on fresh white bread and one can walk to anywhere one wants to go.

I hope some of the traditions that have started up down at Rainbow Bay every Christmas such as the Ipswich Old Boys bowls day which was started by my grandfathers and their mates some 30 odd years ago and now attended by my dad and I in their honour and the Boxing Day punters club at the RSL never change and I know I will be there again this year to keep the traditions going.

Now that we have all gotten a bit older, Rainbow Bay has become a place that my nephews now love and look forward to going to every year.  They are experiencing the caravan holiday with their grandparents (my parents) just like I did and I envy them that they have years ahead of them to discover the delights of this haven.

“Let’s dig a hole Uncle Steve”

Rainbow Bay has played such a big part in my life, it will always be one of my favourite places.

I love my country and I will sing our national anthem: why won’t you?

June 11, 2012 By in Shumpty Speaks 1 Comment

“Australian’s all let us rejoice, for we are young and free;”

For readers that are unaware, those are words that start the national anthem of Australia. Much is made by many about the wording of a national anthem or how it is performed. A rendition of our national anthem at the recent State of Origin rugby league match in Melbourne by a young actress playing “Annie” in the musical of the same name set social media networks alight with, in the main, condemnation of the Australian Rugby League’s choice of singer.

I have been heard to regularly lament the inappropriateness of those chosen to sing our national anthem at sport and other events of note. My frustration in that context is the fact that often the singer chosen seems to think they need to make the melody sound like one of their songs. Whilst this is something I dislike, it is not the subject of this blog. What I did want to mention however was a worrying lack of respect for our national anthem that seems to regularly arise at events I attend.

This lack of respect reached its epoch for me on Saturday night when I attended the Australia v Wales rugby union test match at Lang Park (regular followers on twitter will know that I decline to refer to the hallowed turf by its corporate moniker). As is usual for me I got to the ground early, was well settled in my seat and had already struck up a conversation with some of the fans around me in anticipation of the game ahead.

All too soon it was time for the players to run onto the ground and the national anthems. This is where my enjoyment of the night ratcheted down a notch. Upon hearing the announcement “Would you all please be upstanding for the national anthems of Wales and Australia”, an attendee sitting behind me was heard to retort “there is no way I am standing up for any stupid #$#$%# anthem”. The bloke behind me was lucky that the music had started because I was incensed. How dare he be so rude? Fortuitously, the two friends that he had attended the game with and his girl friend all castigated this individual during the break between anthems and he did stand up for the Australian national anthem.

This frankly is not an isolated incident. It seems that every time I attend an event at which the anthem is to be sung there is a melancholy that surrounds its singing. If it is not failing to stand for the anthem it is not removing ones hat when the anthem is sung or talking to your mates during the anthem.

How did we get to a point where it would seem that the singing of a song that celebrates our country is chore for many that is not respected?

The national anthem of any country is, or ought be, a celebration of its people, the country and its identity. This issue of respect for the anthem having bounced around in my head for a while, I was left to ponder what the younger generations of Australians (or of any nationality) are taught about their national anthem.

I went through school during a time when in grade 1 we learnt the words of the national anthem and at every school assembly (every week) we sung the anthem (along with God Save the Queen before 1986). The anthem was a pivotal to the teaching of history in the early grades and was interwoven through our understanding of our nation identity. Is it the same now?

Ultimately, I just don’t understand the mindset that leads one to not want to celebrate the identity of their country. I love my country and I will always sing the national anthem loudly and proudly.

The question to leave you with is: will you?

Shumpty’s Favourite Places: Washington

June 7, 2012 By in Shumpty's Favourite Places Tags: , Leave a comment

The genesis of this blog, as early readers will recall was my recent trip to New Zealand.  Whilst I would not say I am a worldly traveller I have been lucky enough over the years to experience and photograph some places that have had a massive influence on my life.

On Thursday’s for the next period I will be writing a series of blogs called “Shumpty’s Favourite Places” in which I will write about places that I have loved visiting or that have been important to me (or both) over the years.  In starting this series there is not better place to start than Washington.

I wish I could visit Washington every time I travel somewhere such is the excellent time I had there some 16 months ago.

I know I am a nerd but the history of the place just screams out to be enjoyed and celebrated.  The monuments are awe inspiring and yet I found them also to be solemn places it which it was apposite to reflect on not only the effect that the parties celebrated in the monuments have had on the world that we live in but also on the awe with which our American cousins lionise their former leaders.

My favourite monument is the Lincoln Memorial.  Of course I had seen it on TV and in movies and, as is my usual style, I had done some research before I arrived there but the thing that struck me was just the size of the memorial.  It is a massive footprint and is cavernous inside whilst being imposing outside.

Any trip to Washington is not complete without a visit to the White House.  Converse to the Lincoln Memorial I was shocked a little at the lack of size of the place.  Compared again to what I had seen and my perception it struck me as a diminutive structure compared to the ornate and behemoth like buildings that surround it.

I saw a great many of wonderful things in Washington and those who know me will know that there was no way, for example, that I could resist going to the Supreme Court of the United States.  For me, this was law nerd heaven which only was heightened when I was able to watch an argument session in two cases that were before the Court on the day I was there.  I have been fortunate in my time to argue applications before the Supreme Courts of Queensland and New South Wales and the Federal Court of Australia but all of that paled into insignificance with the chill I got up my spine when I heard Chief Justice Roberts call the first case of the day.

Having waxed lyrical about my visit to the Court, you will probably be surprised that it was actually not the highlight of my trip.  That slot is reserved for the four of eleven (in Washington) Smithsonian Institute museums I visited during my stay.  Most particularly I will maintain till the day that I die that the best thing I saw in Washington was the National Air and Space Museum.  I loved it so much I went back for a second look.  From the Wright Flyer, through aviation using the World Wars into the exploration of Space it feels like the sum total of aviation history is all in one place.  It is hard to pick out any particular exhibit that I favoured over the rest: they all were just so good.  I really could have spent at least another day in just this one museum to make sure I did not miss anything.

I would happily go back to Washington again and I would love to live there some day.  As a naive traveller immensely out of his depth in the early days of my first real overseas trip, I found Washington an easy place to get around and the subway the best way to get around it. I have no doubt my next “big” overseas trip will include a Washington component, if only so I can tick a few more of the Smithsonian Institute’s museums of my list of places to see.

I leave you with an image of Washington that to this day is tattooed on my brain.  I took this photo on dusk in the National Mall: the modern day represented by the cars and the history of the Washington Memorial is just the right mix of the day to day hustle and bustle of America’s capital and its history to show the true essence this great city.  This is the image of Washington I will always remember.

Becoming Uncle Steve: it took me a while but I got there

June 6, 2012 By in Shumpty Speaks Tags: , 1 Comment

Today marks twenty days until I become an uncle for the third time. To say that I am chuffed would be an understatement. My nephews Jack and Cooper, it would be fair to say, have changed my life.

To say that before they came around that I was not that most “kid friendly” of chaps would be an understatement. Having worked at a Tenpin Bowling Centre for 5 years during my university years, I had often seen the worst of the behaviour of children and my cousins all being basically around the same age as me (with a variance of maybe 5 years either way) meant that I never really been around really little kids. Those factors led to my default setting around children to generally be taciturn and standoffish to say the least.

That all changed when my little mates, first Jack and then Cooper, came along. I remember the day Jack was born like it was yesterday: my sister went into labour moderately early in the morning, an ice age passed with me pacing and checking my phone, the call came through that he had arrived, I had a little bit of a cry and then I went out and got absolutely slaughtered (I used to drink then).

When I met Jack for the first time the next day I was astonished by how small he was (forgive me but I was a 27 year old bachelor lawyer workaholic: babies weren’t within my social sphere) and by how my heart beat got so much faster when I held him. I wasn’t the best catch of a cricket ball during my playing days and all I could think of was dropping him!

By the time Cooper came along two years later I was an old hand at the “holding the baby” lark but my heart beat still hastened every time I held him.

At this juncture, I have a confession to make that just breaks my heart. Frankly, until 15 months ago I was a pretty terrible uncle. Indicative of that is the fact that even though I try my damnedest I really can not remember much of my interactions with my little mates before then. I could make all of the excuses under the sun for this aberration but the fact is I was a selfish prat who put his family last for those first five years of Jack’s young life.

Now, I spend every moment I can trying to make up for that lost time. This has become even more important to me now that the boys are moving with their mum and dad (and soon to be new brother or sister) to the other side of the country.

What I love most about the time I am now spending with my nephews is watching them grow up. They are different in so many ways and yet they share some of the same DNA as me. They have their own personalities and yet they still rely on me, when they are with me, for so much. Jack is the quiet one whereas Cooper is the more rambunctious one. Jack is the tall one whereas Cooper is going to be more stocky.

Now that they are a bit older they are starting to play sport which has added a whole other dimension to our relationship. Rugby league, soccer, tennis and swimming have all become fixtures to varying degrees for my nephews and try to make every game I can. They have even started following rugby league teams though the fact they have become followers of the Broncos and the Dragon is something that will be subject of discussion in the years to come.

There is so much to look forward to in their coming years and I look forward to hopefully being a part of that. I know that I will miss them terribly when they head to the West but I will keep my promise to Cooper to “come for sleepovers” at every opportunity.

They both are truly at the epicentre of the best things that have happened in my life and I know that during some particularly dark period in my life their unconditional love for me as their uncle was a fill up I needed to push on rather than chuck it all in. That is what has made becoming Uncle Steve in more than just name over the last 15 months all the more special.

The next twenty days is going to fly by and then I get another chance to be an uncle. I hope I am better at it this time than I have been in the past. It is funny you know, my heart just started beating faster again …

When did consumers decide it was ok to accept bad service? Or is it just me?

June 5, 2012 By in Shumpty Speaks Tags: , , 1 Comment

Anyone who follows my twitter feed (@Shumpty77) will know that from time to time I have been known to express my dismay at being treated in a fashion I have considered to be less than helpful by customer service staff.

Today was a day that was the antithesis to those experiences that I have been known to lament loudly inasmuch as I received really good service today. I regularly attend a cafe in Brisbane called Fuel Salads. As per usual on my regular visits to this establishment I was greeted warmly by all of the staff, they knew what my usual order was (but asked me if that was what I wanted) and generally treated me well and quickly. Indeed the owner commented that it had been a couple of days since I had been in and enquired as to whether I had been unwell.

Now whether this display of customer service was simply put on for my benefit to keep me coming back to their establishment or was genuine (I hope, indeed am certain, it is the later), it got me thinking about customer service generally and led me to reflect on some of the negative experiences I have been faced with recently.

Not wanting to belabour the point but a quick perusal of my archive of tweets on this topic reminds me of these recent customer service gems:

1. My experience at Sprout on Saturday night.
2. Being variously ignored in favour of other customers behind me in the queue or because the server was on a phone call discussing last night’s “shenanigans” at the counters of various food court eateries.
3. Being told that I might “more comfortable” in a mens “big and tall” store not once, not twice but thrice (on three different shopping excursions).
4. Having my telephony services disconnected by my service provider despite being ahead on my bill payments for no reason (still waiting for a reply to my complaint on that one).
5. Various hours spent on the phone to call centres on these shores and abroad.

Now whilst I have been known on occasion to stamp my feet and walk out in some of these scenarios, generally my default setting is to grit my teeth and get through the red mist created by the poor service because either I really need the good or service I have gone to the establishment for or because I just could not be bothered to go to another establishment because I have other things to do.

Therein lies the problem: the pace of the world that we now live in means that all too often we are too busy to even ponder reacting adversely to poor service because there is always something else equally or more pressing to deal with that we have to do next. This is something that I firmly believe the purveyors of goods and services not only thrive off but they rely on.

Shopkeeps (for want of a better expression) know the odds that any particular disgruntled customer is going to not proceed with a transaction because of bad service or is going to complain about bad service (or both) is so low that they do not seem to bother with ensuring that their staff actually provide better service or are trained well enough to give such service.

As I reflected on this I had cause to pause and also ponder the difference between the service I seem to get on a daily basis in Australia with the service I have received whilst travelling, most obviously when I was in America some 18 months ago. When I was in the US, I tipped everybody. Naively I did not equate the tip that I was to give with the quality of service I was obtaining until it was pointed out to me one day that I was, to someone that I had received excellent service from, undertipping. It was only then I truly understood that the life blood of the customer service industry in that economy is tipping. Wages are low and tips necessary to keep above the poverty line.

Now I am a realist: a culture of tipping or reward for excellent service is never going to fly in Australia. Simply we have a work force that is unionised and the unions would never allow their members to suffer the disadvantage of a wage reduction.

So if the utopia of being able to reward (or punish) customer service staff for their performance immediately upon the completion of a transaction is not available (and it never will be in my life time), all that is left is for consumers to talk with their wallets in declining to proceed with transactions, walk out of stores (or hang up the phone) when they are not served with alacrity and complain vociferously when they do not get service that meets their needs.

That is what I will be doing from here on in … will you?

What ever happened to “the umpire’s always right”? A sports fan’s lament

June 4, 2012 By in Shumpty Speaks Tags: , , , , , , 5 Comments

The question of the treatment of match officials is one that has been firmly on the lips of many in recent weeks given the seemingly many and regular displays of petulance we have seen from the stars of many sports. It seems, based on the evidence before me, that respect for match officials in sport in general is at an all time low.

Pondering this issue over the last couple of days the thought that kept coming back to me was the question “what happened to the umpire is always right?”. As I recall childhood spent trundling medium pacers and standing at fine leg / second base in summer and kicking balls of various shapes in winter, the only rule that as young participants in sport that was drummed into us other than “have fun”: was that the umpire / referee was always right.

Indeed, as I, and a sampler of friends from those many moons ago, recall it the rule went something like “even when the umpire is wrong he is always right” and it had a punishment for breaking it that involved a clip over the ear from a parent and a sit on the sidelines the next game.

On the premise of what sports fans have all witnessed over the last couple of weeks across many codes either the rule that we all played by as kids in my generation was not pressed on professional sportsmen when they were kids OR something has happened that has changed the kids running around the local sports grounds into the petulant performers that grace our screens on a regular basis.

It is important to stop at this juncture and briefly examine what I am complaining about here. Obviously I watch a lot of sport and these are the things that I have seen that have concerned me in just the last month:

1. The regular habit of dummy halfs in rugby league throwing their hands up in disgust at seemingly every play of the ball that takes one second longer than they think is appropriate.

2. The regular habit of rugby league and rugby union teams who are waiting for a decision by the television match official to walk back to their own half in anticipation of a try being awarded.

3. The claiming of catches by fielders in the slips in test matches were the fielder could not possibly think they have caught the catch.

4. The captains of teams in both rugby codes regularly and vociferously questioning any call that they consider to have gone against their team. Such questioning now seems to, as par for the course, include swearing.

5. Tennis players questioning every call in an attempt to keep themselves in the game during an obvious losing cause.

Such behaviour appeared to reach its epoch in the first State of Origin game where the captain of the New South Wales team had a running battle with referees and was heard to quip “this is your first State of Origin isn’t it? You can tell” among other choice lines.

Put simply: there is not a game of sport that one watches these days in which such questioning of the match officials is not seen.

Now I acknowledge that the business of sport is big business these days and I also acknowledge that never have players whilst they are on the field been under more scrutiny with the advent of microphones on referees lapels and cameras focused on every facial expression of the players. These competing interests mean that on the one hand it might be said that a wrong decision can have a bigger effect on the team that the decision goes against and on the other hand we as fans get to hear and see more of the interactions between players and officials.

That said, I actually do not care what excuses players and codes might roll out to defend player behaviour in this regard because it is clear to me that changes need to be made. This was really sheeted home to me when my father told me anecdotally about running the line in my nephews under 7 rugby league recently. He (my dad) was shocked when one of the combatants quipped to him after one call “you aren’t doing us any favours are you”. The kid was seven.

If this is what our future stars think is appropriate conduct (and I know my sample size is small) then now is the time to do something about it.

Trying to get back to the rule that the match official is always right seems to me to be an appropriate starting point for the codes that are presently in the news on this issue and the only way that it seems to me that that “golden” rule is going to return to the games we love is for there to be strict punishments for breaching the rule.

Some sports deal with this well. In baseball, if you show dissent you are thrown out of the game; regardless of the state of the game and the position the player / coach holds. In cricket, players who dissent (and this includes the simple act of lingering after a decision is made and looking at the umpire) are punished on a sliding scale that runs from fines through to bans.

Conversely, other sports such as rugby league seem to treat the problem by resting the blame with the match officials themselves. This is simply not good enough.

Whilst I do not advocate a baseball style removal from the game for dissenters in all sport, it seems to me that that is nearly the point we have reached in order to bring the players back into line.

Sport is already playing a losing battle with video games, tablets and junk food and does not need the future generations (and their parents) to be put off by the poor conduct of the stars of the game. Sport also does not sports fans to turn off their TVs and stop watching because they simply can not stomach the whinging any more. Perhaps now is the time for serious action to be taken.

Until such action is taken (and I doubt it ever will), sports fans such as I are left with the continuing lament about the decline of the rule “the umpire is alway right” and our fingers lingering over the off buttons of our remote controls.