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welcome to page one of the land surfers book
this is the book of my mind
and the door is open…
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The Land Surfer News Archives
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July 25 2001 – Wednesday
The Unicycle Man History
or how I first bought a unicycle.
This story starts in a pub, in fact it was a great pub. In fact it was
a bloody brilliant pub, The Samford Pub. The kind of pub you have when
you have a great pub. The kind of pub that you could enter with
electric water pistols blazing and feel comfortable that you would
still get a beer and most likely they would still give you jugs of ice
for the ice fights in the beer garden. A fan- fking-tastic pub.
Enough, we liked the place.
I was standing at the bar ordering a beer, you remember beer don’t you
? Lovely amber gold honey, – huh ? What’s that ? A unicycle story. Oh
okay. I was standing at the bar ordering a beer when a girl I knew
vaguely from high school walked up next to me.
"I don’t like you and I think she’s insane , but my girlfriend wants
to fk your brains out. "
I asked where she was and she pointed her out. A very nice looking
lady. She explained that her girlfriend wanted me to meet her at her
house and she gave me her address on a piece of paper. I said I would
leave promptly and went and found a mate who had a street map of her
suburb. I never stopped to question that it might be a crock. Ask too
many questions and you can kill anything.
Get outside and mount up on the sidecar feeling very cocky. Don’t know
about you, but when I get an offer like that, I do tend to show off
somewhat. I’m riding my Kawasaki 1100 with solo sidecar and my mate is
on a 750 Honda four. As we pull out, I crack the sidecar up onto two
wheels , feeling real bloody cocky, I then dump the clutch with about
9 grand showing on the tacho, and low and behold the sidecar is doing
a one wheel wheelie. Didn’t last too long though, because I glanced
down the first street to the right and spot the law waiting for just
such an occasion. Hmm…
No way am I stopping with sex in the offing. We go for it. The Samford
Pub is some 30 km from my mates place and we are flying. Because I’ve
got no weight in the sidecar, it keeps jumping into the air and half
the journey is spent with me being my own monkey. You have to imagine
running from the coppers with the sidecar pawing at the air while I
try to lean my body into the sidecar to bring the bitch back down. I
had a ball, and did they ever get a look in ? No way.
In fact, I got to my mates place without a single police car on my
immediate tail, although anyone with half an ear could tell they
weren’t far away. And they were definitely finding their way to where
I was. Hmm… Turns out they were following the smoke trail, my number
one pot was going sour, and I was leaving puffs of smoke on every
corner.
First of all, if you are going to get done, you might as well have a
little fun. Before they get around the last corner, I pull a cigarette
out of my packet and snap it in two. I throw away the end and light
the now shortened smoke. So, when the police finally manage to pull up
on the footpath in front of me, I’m sitting on the ground with a half
smoke already consumed and get to do a double take, you know,look at
the cops, look at the smoke, look at the cops and then smile. Didn’t
go down well. What the hell.
Now, you wouldn’t believe it, I go .07 three days after queensland law
changed from the legal alchohol limit .08 to .05, so I get done.
Mongrel . I get carted away to the watch-house and they do me for
drink driving. Bugger again.
Go through the rigmarole of being done and they let me out, when I
walk out, the two redheaded irish coppers who did me are standing in
the carpark . I go over and front them to take me home. Naturally they
laugh at me, this was a police state after all. So, I explain to them
WHY I was in such a hurry. I.E. SEX.
Needless to say , they are male coppers and I’m a good talker , and
wonder of wonders , I get a lift home from the nick. I get home to
find six of my boozy mates hanging around and I quickly settle down to
get drunk and make the bastards some pasta surprise to eat.
The phone rings, it’s the girl, bugger I’ve forgotten her in the
excitement of telling the boys about the gripping police chase . So
I’m three parts pissed when she rings and I’m going nowhere. I tell
her, if she wants me, she can come to me. It’s amazing what alchohol
can make you say. Surprising to me, she agrees. You can just hear what
my mates are saying.
So she arrives, I ask her if she’s eaten yet, and she replies no, so I
offer her some of my pasta surprise. The boys eat it, so it can’t be
too bad .I’m sitting there while she’s eating, wondering how to get
her into bed while I’ve got all my pissy mates hanging around, and do
you think they would leave ? Yeah right.
Ahhh, brilliant idea.
"I’m gunna have a shower and get the jail stink off me, do you want to
join me ? "
BINGO
We get into the bathroom and she comes clean, (bad pun paulie). Her
husband has run off with another woman and she wants to make him
jealous enough to come back. We make a deal, she promises me the
wildest time I’ve ever had in my life as long as I will let go
completely when he comes back. I agree.
The water in the shower went cold, the shower cubicle was never the
same again , my walls were bruised by my mates belting on the walls
and calling me an arsehole and worse for pulling the chick without
doing anything, and I had a real wild couple of weeks while it lasted.
And what does this story have to do with my first unicycle ? Well if I
didn’t go for drink driving, I wouldn’t have had the time and the
inclination to go out and buy a unicycle to complement my sidecar. I
like to do things differently.
So you can see why I associate my unicycle with good times, I bought
it while knocking around with this incredible woman.
The kicker of the story, I go out to The Samford Pub for the regular
sunday afternoon session a couple of days after the ladies husband
came back. I’m standing at the bar and she walks in with her husband.
I’ve never seen the guy. He is huge,a great big harley riding guy and
I ride japanese and I’ve been doing his old lady. The whole pub thinks
I’m going to die, including me.
He walks over, extends his hand, thanks me for keeping my word AND
buys me a beer. I tell him he’s got a wonderful old lady and he better
appreciate her. Our eyes meet and you can just see the dialogue that
is not going on, that woman is one of the hottest sex partners I’ve
ever had in my life. Enthusiasm is a very mild word to convey how this
lady treats sex.
Meet the new king…, I had a very fun afternoon and all my mates
called me an arsehole and worse all over again.
Some things you never forget, and some things will always put a smile
on your face.
And one of those things is how I came to own a unicycle.
My last name is Pavlic, so most of my life, some bugger or other has
called me PAV. Now, my unicycle is a P.A.V., a pedestrian assistance
vehicle. And as I’ve said before, it’s also a G.A.V. , a gravity
assisted vehicle.
So it’s,
there goes PAV on his GAV that’s a PAV.
( Pedestrian Assistance Vehicle is like a wheeelchair, it is a vehicle
to assist you in getting around ) , and it does that admirably.
Today is a good day.
love ya hard
paulie
July 24 2001 – Tuesday
Well hello there, how ya doin ?
Did I have a fat weekend or what ?
You guessed it, it was damn fat.
As always…
What can I say, it’s the middle of winter, running around 7-9 `
celsius. So naturally I ride around town in a pair of originals and a
pair of thongs, with no shirt of course. Originals are something that
started life as jeans and have become body parts. Mine are 21 years
old, have been to more parties than I can remember and to more good
times than bad times. these jeans have been everywhere and they look
it. They are just about the raggedest pair of jeans you’ve seen. They
are getting to be string, and I love them even more every day. Been
offered $300 in the street by women going clubbing and I will not part
with them. Thongs, for future reference , are rubber sandals, aussie
style, something we were wont to call japanese riding boots, but
no-one would call them by that name today, we’re all proper now.
Honest. I haven’t heard an aboriginal joke now for oh, well at least
three weeks. I figure I can have a dig, that many people have accused
me of being a coon that I kind of identify. Makes me fencesit a lot,
because I’m not real sure of my origins, you know ?
So I’m riding around having a ball for oh, well about three hours,.
Time is kind of out there on a unicycle , and I’ve had maybe three
vodkas and everything is just nice. Ride past the beach and bamm, it’s
bloody dead low tide. I am in there…
Wander down to the waters edge and I have a FAT time. Chasing the
waves in and out, riding in and out of the surf, getting trashed by an
errant patch of soft sand and coming a gutza out in the surf. Had to
walk back in ,squeeze out the towel that I’m using on the seat to keep
down the saddle sores, and trek off again a whole lot wetter. Now I
don’t normally get affected much by the cold, the unicycle keeps me
more than warm enough, and when I stop, I’ve got sufficient tone that
my muscles keep me warm, I’ve just got to remember not to relax too
much or I freeze. That much water aboard, and sitting on a wet towel
brings me back to the car for a change of clothes, and shock, horror
The Unicycle Man goes back out on to the street with a shirt on.
They’re not used to me wearing a shirt, last winter, I never wore one.
Had a number of comments, it must be cold if you’ve got a shirt on
etc, but I couldn’t be bothered telling everyone who asked that I had
just come a big one in the surf. Hardly cricket, if they want to see
the uni in the surf, let them find out about it the natural way,
walking along and there’s the uni boppin along the beach. I don’t like
timetables or rules, so I go where and how I like. Spontaneity it is
for me.
Somewhere there, in the night, I bump into Butch, haven’t seen him in
a while. We go back till before he was born, I played with his elder
sisters while I waited for his parents to have sex again. We have a
cuppa in Charlies , and Butch is having a friendly dig at me, you
know, what are mates for ? Ya gotta stir the shit out of them. Okay ?
This is Australia. So while he’s chuckin shit at me, some guys that
bumped into me earlier, they were in a band that was to play on
Saturday night at the paladium, stopped at the table and asked me
again to join them the following night on stage with my uni. I said it
sounded like a good idea, and they wandered off, Butch changed the
subject, and we had a chat about the gold old days when we were young
and reckless. He had a lady with him, so I didn’t want to hang around,
and off we go again.
Remember doing some singing on the corner of the mall, but couldn’t
for the life of me recall how long I was doing that. Nice fella I was
singing with, I think it just wasn’t my night for singing a lot. It
happens, you go where it goes.
Lots and lots of riding around things, Surfers Paradise is a
Unicyclists Paradise, it never gets boring, more variety than a polar
bear on rollerskates in a whorehouse.
Cruise around town till 5:30 and wander down to Morticia’s place, wake
her up, big smile…
Love ya babe…
Wrote the above last night till blackadder was on tele, don’t watch
the tele much, but blackadder is special . I was going to write
tonight about how I went out with Catwoman on Saturday night and what
a good time I had dirty dancing in the clubs. I will say that the rest
of my weekend was great and everything that I expect my weekend to be.
The reason I won’t be writing too much tonight is that I had a bad day
pain wise. I’ve just come out of a two hour bath and I have to go back
to it soon for temporary relief. I’ve been running five out of ten on
the pain scale all day, and I don’t take drugs to relieve the pain at
work, so I have a big pain drain running at the moment. Another hour
in the bath and I’ll be able to face it. I haven’t had a really bad
one since the day my toe was run over by the forklift. That day I was
running eights, and I should never have left home. When the ambulance
got me to the hospital with my toe severed and crushed, my toe was
only hurting six to seven, but my cojones were doing eights. When they
offered me paracetemol for the pain, I was a little annoyed and said
so. My medical record states the only drug that I have found that
makes it at all tolerable, pity it’s illegal, I sat there for four
hours waiting for them to do something about my mutilated toe ,
without any painkiller at all.
Balance is in all things, I pay a heavy price for the fun that I have,
today is just one of the bad days. Not all days are bad days, and for
that I am grateful.
May your bad days be tolerable, and your good days fantastic.
love ya’s
paulie
July 19 2001 – Thursday
Went for a ride on the uni after work. Took a little spin around the
park. This particular park is a football field and it has a wicked 5
foot grass drop off all along one edge. Had a bloody great time for
half an hour or so unicyling up and down this drop off. It’s really
steep and kind of challenging. And I might add that it is really good
exercise, as I sit and write this, I can feel the muscles that I’ve
worked, even with the one hour yoga session I’ve just completed.
Unicycling is a little akin to a complete food. A bloody good workout.
It exercises all the muscle groups, tones and massages the body and
bugger it, it just makes you feel good. And who can’t use that ?
Funny thing on the way home from my ride, I stop at Coles to buy some
pasta for dinner. Coming out of Coles , I look at the change in my
hand and I see $1.25 . Now that little money isn’t going to buy me
anything I need , I’ve got all I require to get through the night and
it’s payday tomorrow, so what the hell. Let’s go buy a $1 scratchie. I
look at the ticket and get that feeling, hmmm… I 'm gunna win
something. Scratch the ticket and I win four dollars. Collect the
money, I’m a wise gambler, and I head off home. Wouldn’t you know it,
half way home the fuel light comes on and my little beast is about to
run out of petrol. Now, if I didn’t win the four dollars, I wouldn’t
have enough money to buy petrol to get to work tomorrow. Which would
be such a great pity, except that I love driving trucks. So I felt
good that I won the money. Thank you…
I was riding around Surfers Paradise one afternoon a little while ago,
when this middle aged gentleman hailed me to stop. I pull up and he
walks over. He tells me that he thinks my unicycling is amazing, he’d
been watching me ride in the surf. And then for the next fifteen
minutes the guy told me his whole life story. His ex-wife, the
troubles with his kids, why his job gives him the shits, you know, he
just unloaded. After fifteen minutes, I thought , well I’d like to go
for a cuppa now. I must have shown something in my face , because he
stopped abruptly. He looked at his watch, he looked at me, and then
back to his watch, and then he apologised for spending fifteen minutes
telling me his problems when he only stopped me to tell me he liked my
stuff. I said, no worries mate, I had a good rest and you needed to
unload. Then he asked why did he do it. I said I didn’t know and maybe
he could tell me, because this sort of thing seems to happen to me all
the time. He sat back and had a think about it, and came up with the
idea that it was probably because I was so relaxed. I didn’t tell him
any of my problems, I save that for people who are in real dire
straights. Some people like to meet someone who’s been through the
ringer too. And sometimes it helps to hear other peoples problems, it
gives you a little perspective. I try not to pull out my big guns
unless I really need to, by the time I’ve covered rape child, abusive
peasant father, double murder suicide of parents and being there when
it happened , first wife leaving with leukemia, second wife leaving
with my child, near permanent testical pain and a few other whammy’s
that I keep up my sleeve, it takes a bit of time you know ?
Personally, I don’t feel the need to unload all that much these days,
and like the guy said, I’m pretty relaxed. And you can’t be relaxed if
you’re stressed. So I guess I’m doing okay. Life is good…
Have a good day, and I hope that you are coping with your problems
well, we ALL have problems, and they are always big problems to
ourselves. If I wanted to live in my problems, I have more than enough
to draw on to go and sit in a sanatorium for the rest of my life . I
couldn’t be bothered. My life is not about my problems, my life is
about having fun and sharing love .
Have fun,
love ya’s
paulie
July 18 2001 – Wednesday
A very good friend of mine has been after me for quite a while for a
couple of esoteric objects. I won’t say what, but they’re not illegal
… All the way home this afternoon , I’m thinking of ringing this
person to tell them to come over for said objects. I get home, another
mate has been around and dropped over some fresh esoteric objects. Why
are you on the phone lady ? Never mind , waiting is, she will want to
know. I’ll try again soon, they look like fun. I wanted to use the
phone to ring her as soon as I got home, but the guy I share the house
with is yacking on it. I tell him I’ll ring her after I have my bath.
I get out of the bath and he tells me about the said objects sitting
on the table. I’m not blown away, this is normal life. Not a ground
breaking premonition, it is true, but it makes me feel warm because I
don’t ask for it. It just is…
Speaking on not asking for things. One of the tenets that I live by
is,
GIVE, ASK NOTHING , RECEIVE TENFOLD.
I try really hard not to ask for things, and mostly I follow the
rules. A couple of months into riding around Surfers Paradise, I
bumped into a guy that said you have to be somebody in Surfers
Paradise, he said it was that kind of place. I’m not really into being
somebody, but it made me think. So I set myself the goal that I would
get into a night club for free, WITHOUT ASKING FOR IT. If you have to
ask, then you don’t deserve it. A couple of months ago, I rocked up to
a nightclub where I’d been going occasionally, as usual I was in face
paint and riding my unicycle. The guy on the door had a chat with me
as my unicycle was being put in the cloakroom and I was trying to pay
to get in. I didn’t pay, they let me in for nothing. Not only that,
the bar staff were very generous that night. I’ve never seen vodka
poured so freely in a night club. Boy , did I celebrate. I got
plastered and did no more work that night. The lesson for me, after
the hangover went away, was very clear. If you deserve something, you
will get it, if you don’t, then you won’t. And if you don’t deserve
it, don’t ask for it. I won’t rock up to the same nightclub thinking
that I should get in for nothing, I still have to deserve it. When I
see someone trying to wangle their way into a club now, I’m a little
affronted. I worked bloody hard to get that right, and I feel that I
deserved it. It’s a bloody good feeling to get something that you
worked hard for. If it comes easy, it’s not worth anything. I
celebrated so hard, I did the unthinkable, I actually walked for about
a third of the journey out of town. It must have been a real strange
sight, The Unicycle Man with the equivalent of about 5 triple vodka’s
inside him, bouncing off the walls as he pedals through the streets of
this amazing place. And no, I don’t normally ride drunk. The moment
was exquisite, the fulfillment of a goal. One of many. Set another
goal, achieve that. LIFE IS BLOODY GOOD…
I won’t name the club, I don’t want anyone to get into trouble. But if
they asked, I would recommend it, and I do recommend that club to
people in the street. You have to repay favours. You can’t ever forget
them. And boy, do I have a list of people whose favours I wish to
repay. Waiting is…
Last Saturday night, Minka, you remember my beautiful sweet makeup
lady don’t you , did another outstanding effort and painted a flower
power flower on my face. Getting kind of fuzzy now, but I seem to
remember my nose was yellow with little dark dots all over it. Just
have to start photographing these things, they are ethereal art. For
some reason, the art expresses itself in the riding. So I spent
Saturday night doing an awful lot of what I call unicycle dancing.
Basically, it works like this, you get your headphones and some good
music and go with the flow. If you’ve seen it, I think you will
understand. The unicycle goes where it wants, traveling in arcs that
closely resemble the path of an in-line skater. The unicycle is so
much easier to ride in this motion, and it really shows. Had a few
lovely comments from people that I met, and guys, I had a wonderful
night. Seemed to come out in the music too. The first song I sang with
the first busker mate I came across, was one of those songs where
everything just sounded right. I opened my eyes at the end of it, we
turned to each other, and we both said “cool” at the same time, I
remember remarking that I would gladly sing fifty songs to get that
one where it was just… Lucky me, I got the same experience with the
next good busker mate I bumped into. Unless you are a musician, I
don’t know if I can relate just how good this feeling is. Zen sort of
descibes it, so does orgasm, there is no time, there is no place, you
aren’t thinking about where it goes. It just goes. And when it’s
going, it feels like it will never be gone. I feel lucky to ever have
experienced this once, let alone all the times I have felt it. You
can’t ask for it, you can’t will it, it just is. So sweet, so lovely,
it feels like LOVE…
LOVE IS…
Have a great day,
Love ya’s,
paulie
July 17 2001 – Tuesday
Well hello there, just spent half an hour laughing at myself. Aren’t
human beings funny ? The things that we blow out about. Paranoia is
one of the more interesting things in human behaviour. What you are
paranoid about is always interesting to contemplate. Says quite a bit
about yourself, and something I am always interested in , is
conquering fear. If you can’t laugh at yourself, then you are a joke.
Sometimes I forget that I once had a parents vigilantee committee
after me, but then I remember and I start laughing all over again.
Especially when I think of how gutless the bastards were. Eighteen
months or so of running a party house in the house where my parents
died in a double murder suicide , and not once did I ever have one of
the pricks come up and talk to me. I don’t know what is so scary about
a terrified drug ridden jaundiced hippy boy that would make them so
afraid. But the things that their kids told me were incredibly funny
and did help to ease the pain, that and a lot of drugs.
The unexamined life is not worth living, at least not for me.
Why was I busting a gut last thursday night, well partly because today
is my son’s birthday. I didn’t want to sit and write a bunch of
depressing drivel about it, which is why I haven’t sat down again till
now. Andrew, I love you, nothing more really needs to be said. And
Elizabeth, contrary to what seems expressed about you here and
elsewhere, you and I both know that I will never stop loving you. I
love you both unconditionally, and that means that I have to wear the
pain. A whole pile of people think that I’m insane to still feel love
for a woman that was threatening me with my child. But, Elizabeth,
like anybody that is hurting, will lash out at anyone who is there.
And if you love someone enough, then you will pretty well cop it
sweet.
My son’s mother was once my brother’s girlfriend. She was my little
sister, at least in my mind. The poor dear adopted a son out at
seventeen and I wasn’t there to help her . She’d broken up with my
brother and we had lost contact. I’ve never seen someone grieve for so
long. When I met up with her in Gladstone some thirteen years later ,
she was still grieving. Some dickhead in her husbands family had
blamed her for producing three daughters in a row and no son. Bloody
idiots, can’t read or something I guess. Anyway, the woman was pissed
at them . Also, she very badly wanted to have a son, can you guess why
?
She asked me if I could give her a son. I said yes. And I had a pretty
good idea of what it would cost me. I had rung my brother the day that
I bumped into her and given him a fairly good depiction of how she
would ruin me, at that time we had done nothing more than say hello to
each other. He didn’t believe me, but I have learned to trust my
predictions. She did ruin me, I lost everything.
I would do it again tomorrow. For the same reasons.
I love the lady and she was hurting.
I hope that she is not hurting now.
Take care of him babe, he’s a special boy.
Love, hugs and kisses to Andrew, my beautiful son.
Happy Birthday young fella.
Funny thing, last thursday I was running around a warehouse grabbing
some things, I was scanning an order sheet and stopped at the mixed
drinks line. There was no mark there but I was struck. I bought a
dozen, my thinking at the time was, I’ll follow my hunch and what’s
the bet I need these really soon. Monday morning, lo and behold they
appear on an order for tuesday. We don’t do many mixed drinks . In
fact we don’t stock them. Well it would be a funny thing, except this
sort of stuff happens to me everyday.
With one major exception.
Twelve months ago I had a really strong prediction that I was going to
lose a leg in a truck accident. It totaly freaked me, I like my legs
and I’ve got two mates that are amputees. They are great guys and they
are NOT disabled. I just didn’t want to lose my leg.
I can’t think of a better reason to try really, really hard to become
a great unicycle rider who entertains people. I spent an inordinate
amount of time thinking, look , see my legs, I need these to do this
and make people happy. Please , GOD , I will do anything you want, but
please don’t take my leg.
When I hit the hospital, after having my toe crushed by a forklift
truck, I was smiling. In fact , you could say I was stoked. Because
for the first time in my entire life, I felt like I actually had free
will. I didn’t lose my leg, I had a toe crushed. A hard god, it is
true, it still hurt like shit. But for the very first time in my life,
a prediction that I knew to be true had been changed. I’ll continue
with what I started.The unicycling will continue for the same reasons
that I kept it up in the first place. It feels right to do so.
So, was Fri 13th shithot or what ? Minka, my makeup artist and good
friend did a spectacular job. She painted my face up as kind of a
cross between Darth Maul and one of the demons from Charmed. Really
vivid and with fantastic definition. She had a little help from a
lovely friend , who painted my torso and arms with a riot of demonic
colours. Sorry if you’re not getting a good picture of this, I promise
we’ll start photographing the faces of The Unicycle Man as soon we get
our collective arses together.
By the way , Minka is now available to do your professional makeup on
the Gold Coast, just call her on 55225588. She is a lovely lady, and
if you want to look drop dead gorgeous, I wouldn’t recomend going
anywhere else. I had three women ask me to do their weddings on fri
night, I had to keep explaining that I hadn’t done my own makeup. It
was stunning.
I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, if you are wearing body
makeup, people just reach out and touch you. It’s a little frightening
at first , but after the first twenty or so people have had a touch,
you kind of get used to it. Thanks for all the compliments and I have
passed them on to Minka and crew.
It may not look like it, but it takes a few people to have The
Unicycle Man out there doing his thing. You don’t see the preparation,
you don’t see the training, you don’t see the support, but you do see
the end result.
Thanks guys, to all of you, and you know who you are. I am really,
really thankful that I have such good friends. And Friday night we
wowed them. From just before midnight till app 4:30 , Surfers Paradise
had a laughing , singing, bongoing red demon on a unicycle floating
around the place, and didn’t I have fun ?
The fun never stops after the bell has rung. On the way home, I had
three lovely ladies in my car, we pull up at the lights and I glance
across at the car next to us. There are four young girls faces pressed
against the windows of the car and they are smiling and laughing, I
don’t know about you, but I quite often forget that I am driving a car
in full body makeup. It sometimes takes me a moment to twig that I’m
being looked at. We all waved and smiled and stuff , and that pretty
well sums up the whole night. Had a great time, thank you Surfers
Paradise. Saw a huge bunch of people and friends that I’ve missed
terribly, and I had a great yack to a whole bunch of people.
I’ll have to do my weekend writeup tomorrow, I’ve yacked too long.
Don’t need to tell you, you know already, I had a great weekend.
As ever , I laughed , I joked, I loved , I unicycled, I sang, I
bongoed and I learned a few things,
I’ll never learn everything, which is why I will never be a master.
But I can aspire.
Once again, happy birthday BooMan.
And what did Minka write on my back for the viewing audience ?
EVOLVE
Beautiful lady, you said a mouthfull.
'nough said.
love ya’s
paulie
July 12 2001 – Thursday
Okay, not a good start to the evening, got pulled over in a random
breath testing stop and got informed that my car was unregistered and
copped $480 in fines. Fair enough, I was doing the wrong thing. But
it’s gunna hurt. Ouch…
Had a bloody good ride in the park at Arana Hills just before it,
which kind of softened the blow, I was riding up and down a really
steep grass drop off and learned a few new tricks. New tricks are
always waiting to be found and you don’t know what they will be till
they happen. It’s a bit like finding gold, it’s where you find it. And
just like gold, it’s valuable.
Speaking of tricks, I’ve got a couple on video that have never seen
the street, things like :
Picking the surfboard up off the ground while on the move.
Throwing a rag down from the moving unicycle , bending to the ground
and retrieving it, and then riding away, all without stopping.
Riding over log drop offs on forest trails.
Riding down a steep hill in the bush on a trail that consists mainly
of huge ruts.
Riding through the bush, off the trail. THIS IS FUN BY THE WAY
Riding into the surf and continuing to ride through the waves till I
am swimming.
Doing thirty pedals backwards in a carpark in the dark so no-one would
see it…
Riding for thirty pedals with my eyes shut down a deserted beach.
An old maxim of show business is never give them everything if they
aren’t showing the right form of appreciation…
I’ll get a few of the above converted to mpg’s and upload them. Might
take a little while, have to search my contacts for a decent setup,
but I will find one.
So now, for the last year I have had to sit on my hands while I waited
for a particularly nasty person to divorce me. I couldn’t make any
real money with the lawyers straining at the leash to get me for
everything going. Wasn’t telling anybody in the street about that,
it’s not done. I went from owning my own house outright to walking
away with $2500. Which I promptly spent on entertaining in Surfers
Paradise. Yes it does cost me money, in fact, the last twelve months
have cost me personally about $15000 to entertain in Surfers Paradise.
I live an hour and a half away from Surfers Paradise, and I’ve been
promoting the place for free.
The biggest crowd that I ride for is the beach at low tide during the
day. There are thousands of people out and about, not to mention the
people in the towers. I don’t need to mention just how many of those
people are carting video cameras, and anyone who has really seen me
perform knows that there are quite a few of those tourists filming
what I do. Those tourists go home and show their experience to their
friends, I give a unique experience that they won’t find anywhere
else. How do I know ? Because they talk to me about it.
I’ve ridden through Brisbane City’s Queen St Mall with the surfboard
above my head, and a sign on the back of the unicycle that says
Greetings From Surfers Paradise.
I’ve ridden through Byron Bay where they have their own Unicycle Man(
Except he rides a skate bike) with the surfboard above my head, and a
sign on the back of the unicycle that says Greetings From Surfers
Paradise.
I rode Surfers Paradise virtually every weekend for twelve months.
I have never received any recognition from Surfers Paradise, in fact
for someone who I’m told has become a local identity, the amount of
promotion that I’ve received from the place is nill.
I’ll probably do something special tomorrow for Fri 13, like fancy
make up and a maniac ride. But I will be doing it with a VERY OPEN
mind.
(Also with a toe that is still very painful, wait till you see what it
looks like. Forklifts are heavy)
Why ?
Three different forming bands that are looking at incorporating me
into their line up.
Extreme sport has been mooted.
A corporate weekend setup has spoken to me about some stuff that I
could do…
An adman has spoken to me about a series of ads.
An offer to live in a house for six months overseas rent free to ride
there. ( This one sounds like fun)
A change in my work status to the better looks in the offing.
All or any of the above would (at the moment) mean a name change.
I would no longer be The Unicycle Man of Surfers Paradise.
I would have to change my allegiance to whatever I was doing.
Surfers Paradise, you are giving me nothing.
There is no such thing as Altruism.
TANSTAAFL
There aint no such thing as a free lunch.
And as a community, you haven’t even thanked me for what I do for the
community.
So all I can say is, if you don’t like what I’m doing.
Then just continue to do what you are doing now.
I’ll get bored of promoting a place that doesn’t care about me, or
more importantly one of the above things will happen and I will be
gone.
I like Surfers Paradise, in fact I love the place.
But, and this is a BIG BUT.
I’ve been quoted $100,000 to fight my ex-wife in court to just get
contact visits with my son. And I want much more than that with him.
Read my website and you will know why, it’s half the reason that it’s
here at all.
IT IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT TO ME.
And I can now make real money and not lose it.
I’ve always said, if you ask for ten dollars that’s all you’ll get, so
you will never see me asking for money in the street.
So I am looking earnestly, and listening for what sounds the best
deal.
I am unique with a capital U.
Don’t lose me by taking me for granted.
Individual people on the Gold Coast have and continue to be wonderful,
and I give much thanks.
From the motel owner who gave me cheap accomodation, to the people
that I now call friends who put me up each and every week so that I
can continue to do what I am doing.
Also to the three wonderful friends in Brisbane who managed between
them to give me rent free accomodation for twelve months so that I
could go out and do something special. Incidently, I’m now paying rent
again, also my wages are garnisheed twice by the Child Support Agency.
So money is not only tight, it’s far short of what I actually need to
accomplish my goals.
And I am very good at accomplishing my goals, you don’t get to the
level that I presently enjoy without having that ability.
Finding another insane individual willing to take the risks that I
take, who entertains on as many levels, could be fun.
In fact I’ve never heard of it.
If you want me to stay, something will have to happen soon.
And I don’t really want to leave, I think that Surfers Paradise is
where I was conceived, and somehow the place means home to me.
But I’ve lived in 28 homes in 21 years.
And I like to travel.
And my patience is good, but twelve months is stretching it.
My son Andrew needs me, and I have to find a way to do it.
Soon…
A mate of mine, Robby (doesn’t mind his name being mentioned) was
talking to me on the phone tonight, and he says.
I’ve been reading your site and ,
So how big is it ?
We had a great little discussion about girth versus length, and the
trade offs involved.
Am I going to give a measurement?
NO
Am I bothered about talking about this with someone who has read it
here ?
NO
Did I put it here to try and feel better about something that will
probably kill me ?
YES
Am I laughing ?
YES
I got offered stripping work in Surfers Paradise about six months ago.
Only two problems.
It’s not a given that the women will sleep with you, stripping isn’t
all that glamorous.
And it’s not enough money.
I’ve got a huge sex drive and I need money for court room dramas.
Somewhere out there is a solution.
And if there is one thing that I love, it’s finding solutions to
problems.
And this one I will crack too.
Just watch me.
BIG BROTHER EAT YOUR HEART OUT…
I want to put my mind on the web, I think it’s an interesting
experiment.
What else is real life ?
Ed TV and The Truman Show only went part way.
The so called reality shows only go part way.
Experimenting is fun.
And I’ll try anything that’s fun.
Sorta kinda.
Fun is …
Wasn’t I in a bad mood yesterday ?
Moody bugger.
C’mon Friday.
Friday is always FUN…
Underlying everything, as always,
LIFE SHOULD BE FUN
DON"T TAKE IT TOO SERIOUSLY
AND DON"T TAKE YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY
take care and have a wonderful day tomorrow,
paulie
July 11 2001 – Wednesday
Big Brother is shit.
REAL LIFE has just a little bit more edge.
Here’s some edge…
When you are terminal, have no money to lose, and no loved ones to
lose, you can say what is in your heart and not worry about it…
Fear is not something I’m greatly bothered by.
You might say that I’ve been through a bit.
And I am a terribly open person.
Shockingly so.
To the point that I lived in a party house and used to have sessions
with my mates while I had a bath.
To the point that I can do this website.
How much balls have you got ?
Would you tell all of your close friends that you were a shemale
bisexual to test them ?
I did.
I’ve got bloody good friends…
And no, I 've never slept with a man, nor do I intend to.
Had quite a few people ask me over the last year if I am gay.
Sorry, the answer is no, next question.
The Unicycle Man has a bitch — hey it’s wednesday.
There is one thing that I prize against all others, and that is
honesty. I am a generous and warm person to all who come across me,
and treat all people with a certain amount of trust and respect. But
if I catch a person being wholesalely dishonest with me, then I wipe
them completely.
Allow me to demonstrate.
My mother -
The promise ?
“I will never lie to you.”
I found my mother in the bathroom swallowing the contraceptive pill,
my father had had a vasectomy.
“What are you doing ?”
“What ?”
“The pill, why are you taking it ?”
“Because I can get pregnant off your towel”
“Bullshit mum, why ?”
“Because I can get pregnant off your towel”
In one second, my mother went from being a member of my family whom I
trusted implicitly to being nobody.
I barely spoke to her from that day to the day she died.
And we had been very ,very close, there was nothing that we didn’t
discuss.
In fact, she had gone to great lengths to tell me all about women.
I didn’t think that she would show herself to me to be what she had
derided.
But she did.
My Ex-Wife -
She started threatening me with my child at about two months into the
pregnancy. And she NEVER stopped. In fact, the longest period that I
went with her, feeling comfortable about my security with my child ,
was three days.
The promise ?
“I will never , ever stop any of the fathers of my children from
seeing their child, I wouldn’t do that to a child.”
You did.
My four year old child screamed for his father as he was dragged away
against his and my will , while his mother told me that I couldn’t
enter her house under law.
I didn’t enter, I left
But still you played games…
You claimed in a court of law that I locked you in a bedroom forcing
you to urinate on the floor.
When the police informed me, I invited them to examine the door, they
refused.
But you don’t go to court to fight allegations from something that
doesn’t exist.
You are currently having my wages garnisheed twice , I don’t agree
that you are owed money.
I’m still in shock from finding out that my mortgage was 76 days
overdue when I had been passing the money.
Not to mention what the bank did to me.
You are on video , telling me where that money went.
But I don’t go to a court to fight someone who doesn’t exist.
I will keep it for my son’s benifit however.
And I won’t talk to you until the day I die.
FK YOU
My family (excluding my brother) -
You told me three days after mum and dad died, that my father wasn’t
my real father.
Since then I’ve heard :
He was a rapist.
He was the rapist’s brother.
He was greek or italian.
He was aboriginal.
He was a hungarian builder on the coast.
Can’t tell, you, promised your mother.
Then why tell me anything.
You people seem to forget that I spent the entire weekend before my
parents died in the now infamous double murder suicide, talking to my
father and trying to convince him not to kill his wife. And he was
VERY honest with me. And I always was a good listener. I did manage ,
with the aid of the old guy up the road to round up as many of his
guns that we knew about. But he was a cunning sod.
In fact he asked me to care for his son, because he respected me, I
wanted to be tough like him, but without the nastiness.
I agree with my father when he told myself and my brother , his
opinion of the uncle who was down as guardian to us boys.
And to cap it off, it was in a discussion with our insurance agent,
who was discussing the suicide clause in their insurance.
The same insurance agent who got his head blown off by my father for
doing my mother and not leaving when he was told.
The uncle who punched me in the face three months after my parents
death, and threw me out.
The same uncle who failed to raise my brother and left it to me, an
eighteen year old drug addict struggling to cope in a world that he
didn’t understand, to try and bring up my fifteen year old brother.
Pretty proud of the job I did.
My brother doesn’t smoke, doesn’t take drugs, barely touches alchohol
and spends most of his time running around for other people.
"THAT UNCLE OF YOURS IS A USELESS, FKING SELFISH PIECE OF SHIT"
Well he got that right.
FK YOU TOO.
Don’t like the above ? Thats your problem.
I expect a straight answer to a straight question on important stuff,
fail that and it doesn’t matter who you are to me.
You will stop existing.
I will still love you, but I won’t talk to you.
It’s the only time I judge.
Everybody else I treat like family.
Sorry, we can’t all have pretty lives.
But don’t think that I live in it.
Because I don’t.
I love the fact that the pain could take me out anytime.
I live permanently on the edge, and I LIKE the edge.
I live life, I don’t let it live me.
Don’t let it live you either.
Off for a ride on my unicycle, have a nice night.
Love ya hard,
paulie
July 10 2001 – Tuesday
Programming night, rewrote the code for my thumbmaker program. Real
exciting stuff, hey ?
First gallery pages going up today.
Yeah, some of the dead black skin has fallen off my toe. Toe’s bloody
sore but, so I think I’ll skip riding tonight and do some computer
work. Html coding is so much fun, even more so when you are writing it
into a program that generates html. Hmmm…
Writing your own thumb making program is a lot of fun though, I’ll
have to write a user friendly version and stick it in the downloads
section. Currently , it does everything for you, including writing the
gallery pages html and then loads them up in your browser for instant
viewing. One of the advantages of being a programmer is that you can
write your own programs to do what YOU want them to do. I think it’s
called freedom… And freedom is ALWAYS FUN…
Think it’s time to go to bed.
Check out the sidecar pics.
Now where did that attitude adjustment go ?
Excuse me…
July 9 2001 – Monday
Well, so did I have an interesting weekend ?
Hang on, all my weekends are interesting. Must be an attitude or
something
Friday night, I slipped out to visit some friends at midnight. Had a
good time that couldn’t be beat, and ended up at Surfers at 5 am. Not
much doing, I took a ride around the place, but nothing enthused.
Wandered down the beach, there was a big old full moon friday night,
and I really like to ride the beach with the moon up. I got down to
the waters edge and found something unpalatable. I hadn’t quite got
the tide right, and it was real boggy conditions. Thought, well I’m
here, we’ll have a go anyway. Took five attempts to get up, the tyre
of the unicycle kept shooting away from me in the soft sand. I’ve got
an oversize tyre on the uni for just this eventuality , but it’s not
always the fix. How do I explain ? Only at low tide do we have
conditions of hard packed sand. Any other time you take the punt that
you can find a patch of beach with a firm bottom. Don’t touch that. I
didn’t find a firm bottom, so it’s a little like riding in quicksand,
the wheel is constantly pushing a little berm in front of it, and
quite frankly, it sucks big time. I was determined after the long
spell of not riding to have fun, so we had a go. Got out and started
playing with the little waves and I was rewarded after about five
minutes with a ripper. The little bugger had legs, it was one of those
waves that just keeps speeding up as it comes in, and every time I
thought it would die, it would just surge on again. I was riding along
on the lip of the wave, you know, where the dry bit starts. Maybe you
don’t understand why it’s fun, but some of those waves are awful
sneaky. So, in the end, as usual, I had a good time.
Called on a good friend around sixish, and got a bloody great smile,
'nough said.
Slept for half the day, visited some friends, ended up at a good
friends place where they’ve got lots of kids. And I think four of them
are theirs. Could be wrong, I’m not this time but. Anyway, the kids
drew a road on the ground in chalk and we all rode around like madmen,
that is the kids and I, till we got good and tired. I was a little
disgusted, their road was an AMERICAN road. We all rode on the right
hand side of the road . Don’t know about you, but I was born in
AUSTRALIA . And I’m proud of it, okay, we’re a little behind in some
things, ahead in others, but we like the place. C’mon kids, stop
watching the bloody television, you don’t have to drive on the wrong
side of the road, worship the almighty dollar, not care about whose
toes you tread on or suck up most of the world’s wealth to have a good
time. It is possible to have fun without being an avid consumer. We
played follow the leader but the boys cheated, kept cutting the
corners and riding outside the boundaries of the road. The girls went
nuts at them to ride between the lines, I said nothing, I like to
observe. They never did come up with a set of rules that they could
all live by. Now where have I seen that before ?
Trundled off to Brisbane as the sun set, a good friend and I were
going to the 40th birthday party of a mate. I was bringing the bongos
along to provide a backbeat for a jam session that they had running.
Got to the party, and they’ve got like seven guitars going, three of
them are amplified and I’m holding what looks like a VERY small set of
bongos to provide a backbeat. Said hi, sat down and got into it, but I
was bit blown away by the combined sound coming at me. Couldn’t hear
the bassist for the first session, I thought that’s not good, I’m
supposed to be in the rythm section, so I snagged a seat a little
closer to him for the second session. Still got drowned out by the
combined noise, I don’t know if you’ve ever drummed before, but you’re
supposed to be behind everything and lay a foundation for them to fly
on. I was so far back in the background , I felt like I wasn’t there,
if you know what I mean . Grabbed a hold of a clayton’s mike , you
know the mike you have when you don’t have a mike. I.E. , every time I
saw it, it would disappear. And was trying to mike the sound of the
bongos to actually participate , but you know microphones and jam
sessions, or maybe not, the mike wouldn’t stay put. I’m not
complaining, that’s the nature of a jam session.
But as a musician, I felt it would have been nice for the guys in the
backyard to also hear something besides the guitars. No matter how
hard I hit, the drums were never going to be heard out at the fires. I
asked the lady firiend that I was with if she could hear the drums
from the fire she was sitting beside, but she said no. So I had to hit
like a mule just to give a sound to the crowd in the room, and
consequently lost half my repertoire. Didn’t get to let go as a singer
either, but that I was prepared for. Managed to throw in a few
harmonys with a mate that I go way back with and saw some bloody sweet
sounds go all round. Think maybe I’ve been hanging around too many
professional musicians and I was being a bit picky. Maybe, maybe not.
Time will tell. I couldn’t hear the bass from twelve feet away, he was
being lost in the dirge as well. On the plus side, seven guitars
sounds fat, and some of the songs just flew. You know you’re having
fun when your time sense disappears and the whole four or five hours
seems about five minutes to me, so I musta had a bloody good time.
Some things I won’t do next time I land in an amplified gig. . . ,
Have a sinus headache before I start.
Forget to put a water bottle beside me , or for that matter forget to
drink any water. I know this is a big no-no for me , and I payed the
price, the delightful sight of the unicycle man hurling over the guard
railing of the freeway on the way back to the coast. Very patient
friend was a big help. Dehydration is no joke. Playing drums or any
musical instrument for that matter is bloody hard work, you have to
keep up your fluids. I’m an idiot. Live and learn.
Not have enough attitude adjustment, but you knew that already .
Play a dinky drum to an amplified sound.
Lose my keys, and head off home to find them in the boot of my car.
Talk for half an hour with a mate the night before , about an old
aquaintance that he thought was dead, and be talking to the same mate
during a session break and seeing the guy large as life standing
behind him. I said to the guy that we had a big yack the night before
about him being dead, but he didn’t seem overly bothered at the time.
I haven’t seen this guy since he was a teenager without a beer welded
to his hand. The guy has had white hair for a LONG time, if you know
what I mean . . . Do you think that the whole sequence of events
happened for a reason ? Jeez, I dunno… Things in my life wouldn’t
happen that way, would they ?
Another thing , it was bloody cold. The party was in a suburb of
Brisbane called The Gap, which is where I spent quite a few of my
formative and not so formative years and it is like a bowl. An extinct
volcano, or so I’m told. Right at the foot of Mt Nebo. As the crow
flies, and around here in this cold, that’s not very far, the party
was maybe one minute from THE FARM were I grew up. But more about THE
FARM some other sixty seconds. We were thinking of staying in Brisbane
out where I live now, but the cold drove us back to the Gold Coast.
And we were damn glad we did.It was a hell of a lot warmer. Got home
on the coast around threeish , which is an early night by anyone’s
standards. But we had a good night all in all. And isn’t that what
it’s ALL about ?
Even vomiting on the side of the road with a splitting headache can
feel okay when a lovely lady climbs out into the cold with you to give
you some water to wash your mouth out. I can remember smiling both
times I got back into the car after stopping in a hurry and running
for the edge of the road. A great companion to go out with while you
do some work. Oh, and I agree with the boys around Surfers, I think
she’s pretty too. Some one that I am proud to call my friend.
Definitely a sister…
Sunday I surfaced late , a friend and I popped over to the friends I
mentioned before, had another unicycling session with the kids, gotta
get your training where you find it, and had a lovely dinner party.
The guy is a professional musician, and I got to playing with his axe.
Just finger picking around, but some of the rythm from the drums is
starting to come into my playing and I had a whale of a time just
mucking around. I know a guy that’s a fantastic drummer, and I really
miss listening to him mucking around on the guitar. A good drummer,
which I’m not yet, brings something different to a guitar that you
have to hear to appreciate. Every note is precisely where it must be
and no-where else .I’ve never heard a straight out guitarist give
quite the same feel. Maybe I’m biased. Well probably, cross training
always has benifits , you know? Management training can come into your
home life. It hasn’t hurt me so far…
Got home 1am Monday, and as usual, I had a bloody good weekend.
How about you ?
July 6 2001 – Friday
Geez, that was a better day,had my shoes on for nearly the whole day.
Just getting these occasional flashes as the nerve in my toe fires.
Feels like 240 v going up your toe. Interesting watching the healing
process, but man, it hurts like a shit.
Added a sidecar tale to the Tales section. Got a zillion of these
sidecar tales. We were wild boys. Actually , scratch the “were” bit.
Going to ride tonight. Bloody big full moon which brings out the
interesting crowd. Toe’s sore tonight, so I’ll have to ride in thongs
to be comfortable.
Done a couple of practise get offs at medium speed and I’m confident
that my catfeet are back up to speed. Don’t think I’ll cart the
surfboard tonight though, I haven’t worked nearly hard enough this
week to think about carting the surfboard at slower speeds than
normal. The bugger is heavy until you get a decent bit of speed up,and
I don’t think the toe will stand up to major abuse. I’ll leave the
board at home, if I take it, I’ll use it. The pull of the crowd is
fantastic, and I don’t trust my willpower not to do it if the option
is there.
People ask for it too.
Especially if it has been out for a ride. They walk up and ask where
the board went, and I tell them I put it in the car. Seem dumbfounded
that I have a car. I tell people that I live on the far side of
Brisbane in Lawnton and they then ask if I ride the unicycle the whole
way. I may be a maniac, but really.
Anyway , I digress.
What are we going to have ?
FUN
And where are we going to have it ?
EVERYWHERE
And when ?
ALL THE TIME
And why ?
BECAUSE LIFE IS FUN…
The meaning of life ?
FUN…
FUN IS…
LIFE…
LIFE IS…
FUN…
What kind of idiot can’t figure that out ?
It’s good to be alive.
Live life, love life.
Geez, do you think that could be my message ?
Don’t whine about it, don’t live in it, don’t say, well it will be
better in the future, or , it was shitty in the past.
Have fun NOW
Because it is always NOW.
And NOW is always a good time to have FUN.
HAVAGOODONE !!!
July 5 2001
Had a bad day, it happens. You have to have both highs and lows. My
son’s birthday in 12 days and it is dragging on me, sorry.
Wrote a letter to my son, had to get a few things off my chest. I try
to put a positive spin on everything. And I just couldn’t get there
regarding my child. Andrew is me to a t. And I’ve been worried that I
might not make it to the time that he will need me the most.
Australian Law says that parents have no rights, only children have
rights. But it seems that no-one makes sure that our childrens rights
are really looked after, and not all of us fit into the same box. I
can’t fight the North Quay Lawyers without money, but I am a very
strong and very determined man. I won’t break any laws regarding my
child, but I will do everything I can to help him in his time of need.
No other person in this world is competent to hold my son’s hand
through his teenage years. Unlike me, Andrew has someone in his life
who has been there. Being unique makes for a unique situation that
needs to be handled differently. It is not me who has been diddled by
the system. It is my son. Because my ex-wife knows exactly what Andrew
faces. I have never met a more selfish person in my life. Nor a more
jealous one.
I will say this, every person that I have met who lies, eventually
gets caught out because they can’t help themselves. And they lie
themselves into corners. Corners that they can’t get out of.
So, Elizabeth Hannan, what are you going to do for our son ?
And I am still waiting for a reply regarding reasonable access without
threats.
You didn’t show for The Family Law Court meeting.
And still the divorce papers say that Andrew is being adequately cared
for, but is he ?
So, is the glass half full or half empty ?
Neither, the bastard is just twice as big as it needs to be.
Lateral thinking.
Never give up , never surrender.
Welcome to my world…
July 4 2001
Had a ride to the shop this afternoon, heard another of those
questions that you hear all the time.
Is it hard to do ?
Yes I said, it is.
Made me think. Anything thats worth doing is difficult. And unicycling
is one of those things that you have to work quite hard at to become
proficient. Like anything that you wish to tackle that is hard, if you
break it up into smaller and more achievable goals, it then becomes a
lot easier. Unicycling is really about conquering FEAR. Before you
even start, you know with certainty that you are going to fall. So the
first step is to conquer your fear of falling. Falling is something
that you become very good at. No matter how well you know the terrain
that you are riding, you can come undone by the smallest things. It
doesn’t matter how long you have been unicycling, the unexpected is
always waiting.
I was riding along one night in Brisbane city, and came across an
elderly gentleman and his son walking along the footpath. I always
give people that aren’t very spry a wide berth, part of the fun is
trying to anticipate what the mindless missiles that are people are
going to do next, and some people you have no wish to startle. The
elderly gentleman in question was walking with the aid of a cane, and
walking was clearly difficult for him. As I was just passing to the
side of him, the left pedal of the unicycle decided to part company
and fell to the ground. I came down in a crashing heap to the ground,
and the whole way down I was desperate not to frighten the old bugger.
I didn’t wish to cause him fear or alarm . Fortunately, because I
think about the people I am riding around, I was a good distance from
him when I came a gutza. He didn’t jump out of his skin, and neither
did I.
Falling is a normal part of the experience.
After a while , you become so good at falling, that you can crash at a
speed that is higher than the speed that you can actually run.
Interesting concept, what do we do now ? Well, what happens is,
because your legs are windmilling , you generally land on a leg that
is already propelling itself forward at a pretty fair pace. So that
when it touches down, you change your stroke rate to meet the speed
that you hit the bitumen, something that you are fairly used to, being
a master of unicycle balance. You won’t be going that fast till you
have mastered it.
So for a short time, you are running down from a speed that you
couldn’t possibly achieve. I can’t describe the feeling accurately to
you , but it’s like running on air. And no, you generally don’t fall
down from this speed, YOU are a master of balance, remember. Sometimes
it just clicks, and you can hold the speed for a short while, another
edge to explore. You wouldn’t find this edge if you didn’t fall down
occasionally, so accept the inevitable. Everything happens for a
purpose.
In truth, unicycling is exactly the same as walking.
You lean forward, begin to fall forward, and you have to propel your
feet (wheel) to match speed with the fall.
So ,
YOU ARE CONSTANTLY FALLING…
A little reading of physics and you come across the concept that a
body must continue to accelerate in order to maintain the the same
speed.
So for a beginner ,
YOUR POINT OF BALANCE IS ACTUALLY JUST FORWARD OF WHERE YOU THINK IT
SHOULD BE…
So lean forward and overcome your fear of falling.
What you are riding is actually a GRAVITY ASSISTED VEHICLE.
It is MUCH , MUCH easier than it looks to ride around for a LONG time.
Extremely low impact, high aerobic activity that makes YOU very, very
fit.
I don’t just look like I’m relaxed as I ride around all night, I AM
relaxed.
And as a side benifit, riding a unicycle, you can see more REAL SMILES
directed at you in a single night, than most people receive in a year.
So have a go.
On a good night, I can have as many as twenty people who want to have
a go at riding my beast. As long as they aren’t too drunk, I let
people.
Some astound themselves, some can’t even get up on top of it, most
have a good time trying.
It is not a competition, and I for one don’t judge you.
You know, judge not or you be judged.
Some get the bug…
I did…
“Is it hard ?”
“Yeah mate”
“How long you been riding ? We’ve seen you around all night.”
“Six hours”
“Aren’t you tired ?”
“Mate, I haven’t even broken a sweat”
“When will you stop ?”
“NEVER …”
A young japanese man walks up, two beautiful women on his arm. He
doesn’t speak very good english, but he is trying.
“Are you body builder ?”
“No mate, I ride a unicycle.”
Thumbs up and big smiles all around.
“You number one !” , while the girls giggle.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
What are you waiting for ?
Try it.
Unicycling is…
FUN
Have a look at ~The Idiots On Unicycles Homepage
<http://members.tripod.com/derek_b/muni2.HTM>
These guys rock.
And who knows, one day YOU too will ride a unicycle down a rough track
and feel confident in your abilities to negotiate the terrain and
travel with YOGA on one wheel.
Yoga is in ALL things.
Yoga is…
the future.
And YOU want to be around in the future, fit and healthy, and BALANCED
in body , mind and spirit.
Don’t YOU ?
So take care beautiful people, see YOU somewhere tomorrow.
July 3 2001
Ok, just got back from my first training ride. Funny thing, I was
seeing how many pedals I could go with my eyes shut, you know, to test
how far out of whack I am after a month out of the saddle. Cracked
twenty pedals and was feeling pretty happy, but you know how it is,
gotta push the envelope. Came around the corner on the really narrow
road that leads to home and had another go. Got about ten pedals and
promptly rode into the ditch, had an interesting time pulling up and
then walked up on to the road to remount. I remount in the middle of
the street and am just about to give it to it , when this vehicle
coming toward me pulls up. Hello , it’s the constabulary. Interesting,
have they seen me riding into the ditch with my eyes closed or not ?
Apparently not, have a fairly routine conversation about helmets. Been
there , done that. Usual routine, I’m a performer and my head
overheats, blah, blah , blah, bloody great jumper on because I want to
cook my cold out of me, but nevermind. Cop a, well , don’t ride on the
road without a helmet and off they go. Not a friggin word about the
thongs on my feet, wet thongs I might add . On absolute safety
grounds, the guy should have been talking to me about my footware, not
the fact that I was not wearing a helmet. Strange set of rules we
enforce on this planet. Five seconds earlier and I would have been
gone a million. As my first real ride in a month,-- not bad.
Unicycling is …
Sticker on the back of my unicycle is outdated.
It says.
If you’re not on the edge, then you’re taking up too much space.
Should be.
If you’re not on the edge, get out of the fkin road.
Tales of Surfers
, as we call the place.
Feel free to send in your own. Can be about anything.
Just tell us if you want your name mentioned.
If you don’t say explicitly that you want your name mentioned, the
story will be unattributed.
All the names will be taken out , so anything goes.
Tell us the stories of Surfers Paradise, and share your experiences
with all of us.
You don’t have to be a street performer to have a decent story to
tell.
There are some really funny things that happen.
I’ll share one of mine.— Bloody performers, always want the
attention.
Good feeling:
Riding a unicycle around for four hours with wild face paint on and
then sitting down and singing with a busker mate or two.
Better feeling:
While you’re singing , having a very pretty girl walk up and ask if
she can share a kiss.
Even better feeling:
Enthusiasm, she rams her tongue down your throat and teaches you the
meaning of dry humping, and then won’t let you wipe the face paint off
her face.
My dream as a child was to be a rock star, if it doesn’t get any
better than this, I am content.
Fun is…
Anyway , have a good day, life is sweet.
July 2 2001
Ok, been away. …Fri 29 June my divorce came through. Mainly good
feelings, but some things never die. Sat 30 June was the 21
anniversary of when my parents died. Wasn’t sad this year, and no
dramas, also no drama queen on the scene to make matters worse. So not
too bad. Had a lovely weekend. Knew I was going back to work today
after three and a half weeks off on compo, and my last chance for a
while to be on holiday. You know, sitting in a restaurant with a
beautiful lady with no time constraints, with the world smiling over
your shoulder. Thank you.
Got a shoe on for the first time on the weekend, and today I actually
got away with 4 hrs before I had to take my shoe off for relief.
Considering my first real training ride tomorrow. Something you don’t
see of unicyclists is the shear amount of hours spent in training and
what I guess is proficiency riding. To keep up your expertise takes
long hours and dedication, but the results are definitely worth it.
Example:
Zen and the art of unicycling.
Pick a GREAT song that moves you, say COLDPLAY “YELLOW”. Head down the
beach at low tide with your unicycle. Wait until the beach is nice and
quiet. Start riding to the music in your head phones (more like
dancing really) , following the edge of the surf wake. And then close
your eyes. After you have ridden 30 pedals to the beat of the music
with your eyes closed,. then the magic starts.
Unconditional love is a close feeling to this, no matter how much
pain, the shear joy and intense pleasure far outway any feelings of
pain you may be experiencing. Once you commit yourself to not caring
about the pain you may experience, the pain STOPS. Pain levels are
felt in the context of how good or bad you are feeling.
As ever it all comes down to attitude. Like my old hippy friends would
say, set and setting. If you want a good time, pick a nice warm
feeling place, assume the attitude that you are going to have a good
time , and then have a GREAT time.
Love is…
Oh, and if you didn’t know it before .
Thou art god…
Robert Heinlein , come back already , we miss you.
Egoistic, pantheistic, multi-person solipsism , but only on Sundays.
Thanks mate.
June 28 2001
Not a busy day, still resting the toe. Wheel Tail Monkey is growing on
me, but then I know what I’m singing about.
The drive to go back out on the uni is strong today, I miss the
busstops in Adelaide St in Bris city. A finer unicycle obstacle slalom
course I have not found. Oh well, a little more patience and I can go
back to running around like a maniac. Should take the time to rebuild
the wheel that went under the car, so that I have a spare. You never
know. I feel more comfortable about cutting off cars when I know I
have a spare wheel in the boot of the car, and even a catastrophic
accident (for the uni) doesn’t stop your enjoyment of the night .
Really, really miss the feeling of having a controlled crash on the
uni while carting a surfboard, just because some wag in the crowd has
yelled out “have a crash”. There’s something about keeping the board
balanced above your head while you run down to a stop that is deeply ,
deeply satisfying. Especially when the wag apologises for you having
the crash and you tell them “no worries”. Even better if you’re
wearing thongs on your feet at the time. Time is…
The house is getting too clean, been home too long. Nearly time to go
visiting again. Might just sail down the coast and see where I end up.
A familiar refrain . Love is…
Had a thought, I’d like to cart a digitalcamera around to catch all
those magic moments in the street that you see in the 7 or so hours of
riding around the town. Will have to look at prices.
Go to the hospital tomorrow to see if my toe has healed enough to go
back to work. Strange to miss driving a big ponderous truck around all
day, but there you go. My boss has done his back in trying to do my
work while I’m down and they could really use me coming back to work.
We’'ll see what the doctors have to say.
Todays joke:
Americans: Please divert your course 15 degrees to avoid collision.
Canadians :Recommend YOU divert YOUR course 15 degrees to the south to
avoid collision.
Americans: This is the Captain of a US navy ship. I say again, divert
YOUR course.
Canadians: No way! We say again … you divert YOUR course!
Americans: NOW HEAR THIS. THIS IS THE AIRCRAFT CARRIER USS MISSOURI,
WE ARE
A LARGE WARSHIP OF THE UNITED STATES NAVY. DIVERT YOUR COURSE NOW!
Canadians: We are a small Canadian lighthouse on a rocky island. Your
call…
Where would we be without arrogance ?
Speaking of which, haven’t seen my son Andrew now since June 10 last
year. Amazing that anybody could think that they own another human
being. Equally amazing that anybody could use a child for emotional
blackmail . If I ever meet another woman who thinks it’s ok to say “do
this or I’ll take your child away and you’ll never see him again” ,
I’ll run a bloody mile. Anybody who knows the whereabouts of Andrew
Pavlic aged nearly six years old , please drop me a line and just let
me know that he’s ok. I’ll put a photo of Andrew on the
<galleries.htm> page.
June 27 2001
Went into Jakari studio and recorded a session. Wheel Tail Monkey has
been hassling me to get out for 6 months now, and I am relieved to see
a version recorded. Bit new to the experience and not yet used to
singing into a mike. But happy that I can hear what I am doing and has
given me a bit more incentive to play the bongos a bit more often.
Played the session without a warmup, so I’m surprised at the good
things I did see. Technodude says it sounds religious. Gotta admit I’m
inclined to agree. But you know art, it goes where it goes.
Went through some photo albums for the site and was dumbstruck by the
beautiful women I have had the pleasure to spend time with.
Must get the scanners working overtime. The Farm crew are itching for
their gallery pages.
Still can’t find my passport, bloody shed is chock full of stuff I
don’t need, - one day.
Maybe don’t want to find it, because it’s stored with my son’s baby
photos.
Nah, he’s a cute kid.
Discussed necrotic tissue with my podiatrist, cool lady. Oh yeah,
toe’s still attached.
Talked about storing memory on the web. A bit of a side issue to the
cyborg wheeltailmonkey concept.
A monkey with a wheel for a tail that stores it’s memory on the web
because it has no short term memory, somehow appeals.
Got a call from a good busking buddy of mine, The Gold Coast City
Council have waived the busking fine that they had in contention and
given him satisfaction. About time too, the guy is a great street
entertainer. You know, he’s not just there to make money, he wants
people to have fun. It’s been dragging on him something terrible
because the man is an artist. He hasn’t worked the street for months
because every time he sarted singing , he would get bummed by the
feeling of being hassled. Expect big things from this guy, he’s got
soul. Love you brother.
You would think that somebody in a City Council would have the brains
to know that an artist only works best if allowed freedom of
expression . You can’t cultivate a beautiful street atmosphere when
your performers are held back by the fear that they will be fined .Not
all street entertainers can afford the luxury of doing it for nothing
, they have to be paid for their services. They’re not begging, I
think if you ask them, they’ll tell you that they are working.
And ask any of the people that I respect, that work with the drunks,
it is a hard job. The bouncers on the door, the girls out the front,
the guys and girls that wait on you in the cafes, the girls behind the
bar, the police ,the security guys.and the mass of people that are out
there working to take care of you and give you a good time. They ARE
Surfers Paradise. And they do a wonderful job.
So from The Unicycle Man , if from no-one else.
A Big
Thank You
To the people who work in Surfers Paradise.
Collectively , you are Surfers Paradise, and you do a wonderful job of
selling Australia’s Premier holiday destination.
The place has a feel that only be described as holiday.
And is there any better feeling besides love ?
June 26 2001
Going into the studio tomorrow to record some songs for the website.
June 25 2001
Put the first test page up for the website
Still not walking properly. Can’t ride.
June 18 2001
Started talking to my family about going to Amsterdam and staying with
relatives for a little while , so that I can wander around their
bicycle mad country.Only one hill in the whole place and Amsterdam is
fun.
June 17 2001
Bandages are off the toe, looks like it might not fall off.
Stuck on a couch with my foot up.
Home <index.htm>
June 6 2001
Had an argument with a forklift,crushed my right little toe.
Compound fracture and just hanging on by the skin.
Going to take a while to mend. No unicycling for foreseeable future,
not impressed.
May 5 2001
Lost my unicycle under a car in a carpark, crushed the wheel pretty
bad, fairly happy I dived the other way and was not hurt.
Another uni down.
June 2000
Started riding on a regular basis around the Surfers Paradise area.
Home <index.htm>
Editor’s note:
Insert newsgroup tag here.
+++
the adventures of the land surfer…
surfing the land on a unicycle
…
subtitled
“suck my fucking string…”
the story of a psychic man
adventuring his way through the subconscious in search of truth
he finds a little more than he bargained for
99% true story , only 1% bullshit, honestly…
would we lie?
book one
http://theunicycleman.tripod.com/
book two
http://plasticbong.tripod.com/
book three
http://thelandsurfer.tripod.com/
a psychic comedy…
"but you knew that right ?
+++