‘My baby takes the morning train…


…he works from 9 to 5 and then…’

A classic in it’s day. 1980 – a fabulous year for both music and fashion. The point is not to dwell on ozone destruction from hairspray abuse or the temporary worldwide domination of stonewashed denim across the Western world (legwarmers optional) but the fact that my life has become a ‘9 to 5’ drudgery.

Alarm goes off – I get up, eat breakfast, go to work, shower, collapse (temporarily), eat crap oven based meals then collapse again. Repeat until vegetative state is obtained.

Not good. I am becoming an automaton. I am boring , bored of being boring and bored of being bored of being boring. To combat this terminal brain collapse I have been planning a transcontinental surf trip in my mind, spanning the globe and it’s glorious shores –
Costa Rica, Bali, Skegness…

‘…he takes another home again to find me waiting for him…’

But for now it’s back to the Grindstone…

…I don’t even get to go home to an adoring Sheena Easton with her fab eye makeup and modern outlook…

I didn’t surf today.


  1. You made my head spin with the number of “bore” words you used.

    If you’re ever in Bali I hope you can make a quick stop over here. We don’t have Sheena Easton but we do have eye makeup.

  2. Dad I’ll stiff your upper lip if you’re not careful. As for the inheritance – you retired so early there won’t be a bean left by the time you get your bus pass.
    Mum – this is true. You are very wise. xxx

  3. Hey, don’t forget the waves at Margaret River in the Aussie south-west. Apparently, apart from an awesome shore break, there is a spot about 20Km off the coast with 50-100 ft breaks! Every now and then an awesome video emerges but the spot is kept secret.

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