Sound (&) Vision
Glasses have long been one of the more expensive necessities of my life, and with frames starting at over $200 even before they put my expensive prescription in them, finding a way to reduce my semi-annual out-of-pocket upgrades is something of a priority. As a result, I've taken to doing my shopping on-line, where starting prices, complete, start at $100. That doesn't mean I'm not spending up big anyway, since, as I say, my prescription is for coke-bottle thick, pretty much requiring that I opt for the extras, like specialty-thin. The big trick lately, however, is that I am increasingly decrepit, needing reading glasses. I originally opted for a distance paid and a reading pair, with slightly different frames for ease of identification, and have swapped between them. I've also left my sunglasses un-upgraded, since, effectively, as medium-distance glasses, I can both read and see far enough for most purposes. But carrying extra glasses and having to juggle them seemed stupid enough in the end that I bought a pair of bifocals for this year's model.

It is very important that I keep my head still, or at any rate that I don't move my eyes in advance of moving my head, as the tilt-shift is absolutely nauseating. Walking down the hall, every irregularity in the floor seems to throw my inner ear just enough that I want to go back to two pairs. Also, I don't think the distance on these is as strong as on my pure distance-glasses. Reading's o.k. - so far.

I've heard you get used to this, but it's not a particularly pleasant period of adaptation just right now.

We Many, We Lucky Many
Although at this point if you get 'flu, they say it's sure to be HSV, there are other things to get, like a plain ol' cold. Nothing like the cache of having a potentially fatal pandemic virus, just a rhinovirus. Annoying, damaging to keeping up training, and not glamorous. I take consolation in scaring the living daylights out of everyone I encounter.

Library Card
I really need to get it together to get myself a library card. I’ve never even visited my local public library, and while the little time I’ve spent in other branches hasn’t impressed me, Glebe’s looks like it might be big enough to be worth visiting. I say this with a few unread volumes of one thing or another sitting on a shelf waiting for me to get to, but books are among the most expensive consumer item in this country, and I consume a fair few. Despite a recent move towards opening Australia to cheap imports, there’s a hue and cry, as there often is in these protectionist matters, of opposition. Australian publishers, particularly in regard to Australian authors, can’t compete against the prodigious output of America, or even the U.K., for that matter. And Australian authors can’t compete if they can’t even get published in their own country, and they won’t be if the local publishers can’t afford to stay open. Theoretically, I suppose, there would still be some demand for local product, forcing the number of publishers to shrink and specialize, but more likely it would simply send Australian writers overseas and to abandon writing, if only writing about Australia. Sure, we’ve got a Nobel Prize winner, and sure, screenplays have been adapted from our stories, but nobody much reads Patrick White anymore, no matter how good he was, and those movies didn’t do particularly well at home or abroad, so where’s the worth? I’m not a fan overall of protectionist trade practices, but I’d hate to think Tim Winton would have to give up or move to California, or that we’d lose out on the next Miles Franklin ever having a brilliant career. The small Australian houses have, over the years, been eaten up by multinational publishing and media conglomerates, and that trend would only be exacerbated by the end of import restrictions. It’s bad enough that television, movies, and Microsoft dictionary settings are undermining Australia’s authentic voice. Not our writers, too.

Pandemic Pandemonium
One guy in the office came down with the new ‘flu over the weekend, and that whole corner of the floor has been evacuated for the next two days. I heard or read somewhere that, at this point, if you get ‘flu, it’s Swine, so every sneeze and cough on the bus makes the back of my neck itch. I’ve also heard that it’s being recommended that you don’t cover your mouth and nose with your hand when you cough or sneeze, but instead use your sleeve. Welcome back Sixteenth Century! We are our own plague rats now.

Athletics
I decided this year that a full marathon having been accomplished left nothing else to prove, so signed up for both the City-to-Surf, in August, and the half marathon, in September, about as full a race season as is easily available around here. I’m at about 96% of the training schedule to date, which isn’t bad, but this year seems harder than last year, when I had to have been more out of condition. I guess age is a factor. This weekend I did 19k in just under two hours, for a pace of just over 6 minutes per. Last year I’d have done it faster, and my goal is to be as close to 5 ½ as possible. My split in the marathon was something like 2:05, so I figure training for the full marathon, even if I have to miss a little on the goals, week-to-week, should make a sub-2 hour half possible. My main concern at the moment is “heartbreak hill” in the City-to-Surf, a long, fairly steep section of the course. Hills presently are my bane, but I’m trying to overcome this barrier. 5, 10, and 5 this week in the park across the road, and the 10 requires about a 2k uphill grade starting at about kilometre 4. It was tough last week, and it’ll be tough this week, but it’s gotta help.

Red Centre Restrictions
It’s on my list to go to Alice and visit Uluru, and I know about the climbing ban, which is disappointing. Maybe I’ve seen too much Peter Weir, but the spiritual charge of places like this seems to me to almost require as much interaction as possible. So, climb or not climb? Frankly, things I’ve seen or heard in documentaries about Aboriginal Dreamtime proprietorship and caretaking sometimes verges into the ludicrous, but I can’t have it both ways – either I respect their claims or I don’t, and I’m not comfortable with making a nuisance of myself. I don’t go to churches and disrupt the services or soil the draperies, so if somebody tells me this big ol’ rock is a leftover from the days of the Rainbow Serpent, I guess I’ll stay off. And I’ve got no problem with shutting down access.

Round 17
Wests Tigers tomorrow, early enough that I'll get home at a decent hour, late enough that it'll be dark and cold. We haven't won a match in a while - last time was the legacy match, against Wests, interestingly, but the difference between tenth and fourteenth may be a lot closer than is comfortable just now as a result. Go, you mighty bunnies.