One direction? Maybe two or three...

Is getting lost on a journey half the fun in making it to your destination in one piece? I think so. On the weekend I got lost trying to find a pub that on the map would appear to be no longer than a 10 minute drive away from my house. I don’t live in a small country town or in a convoluted, suburban maze of back streets. I can read a road map and I even have GPS on my smart phone. Adding insult to injury, the streets leading up to this mysterious black hole of a pub were aptly named First Street, Second Street, Third Street etc. So you can imagine the ire building up inside me as I am becoming more and more befuddled with this Twilight Zone situation I’ve created for myself. Keeping a long story short, I eventually found this hidden little gem of a watering hole and I think I may even make it my local. I figure, if I can’t find it easily, there is a great chance others won’t and I’ll have the place to myself most of the time (you’ll have to forgive me for not giving out the name of this wonderful tavern, if you’re lucky I may take you for a drink there sometime...blindfolded of course).

So, does the old proverb ‘Getting there is half the fun’ hold true? I believe so. I thoroughly enjoy my time on my way to any destination, be it on the way to the supermarket, pub or driving to a small, beachside town for the weekend. I enjoy getting lost, going astray and quizzically looking at a map with a frowned brow, all the while in my head I’m like ‘Jesus, where the hell are we?’

Which got me to thinking, all those family vacations we took when I was a child, did we really mean to end up in those places? Or did Dad simply get lost along the way and settle for whatever location he ended up in? I have clear recollections of Dad looking out the car windows with that same frowned brow and a look on his face as if to say ‘Where are we?’

I can’t wait to have my own children one day and put them through the same experience as me on family holidays. The difference between my father and myself...I’ll happily admit I am lost, simply because I just can't hide that confused look of 'This aint right!'

~INTERMISSION~

I took Oliver to the beach yesterday. On Sunday mornings the beach comes alive with vibrant activity and pet owners walking their gourmet breeds. Ollie strides along with his small legs power walking through the sand like four little furry pistons. He attracts all sorts of attention, predominantly with small children as they giggle at his curly tail.

My signature move the moment I get out of the car and head towards the promenade is to grab a council provided doggy bag, being the responsible pet owner that I am. Olster loves the jetty, it’s his favourite part of his time spent at the beach, he loves watching the fisherman, he loves the seagulls perched on the hand rail and he loves the small children coming up to pet him. Now, what I don’t love is Olsen losing control of his bowls half way up the jetty. Any other form of a faecal deposit  would have been acceptable; however, the little Prince suffered a spell of diarrhoea. Pure fear takes over me as I scan the crowd to see if we have been busted. I think we are in the clear; no one seems to have noticed this pedigree animal shit himself. I pull the black plastic doggy waste bag from of my pocket and gently feel for the opening, as my luck would have it, the bag tears right down the middle, what I am now holding is a square piece of plastic or in other words, a completely useless fucking tool to clean up liquid dog shit. The Buddha is now looking up at me with contempt as I try my best to mop the jetty with my makeshift cleaning cloth. Of course the bin is back at the start of the jetty, and I now have to walk a good 30m with a dripping plastic bag of runny poo, with a pungent odour so foul that other dogs are turning their backs to us. If I had a magic parasol, I would have done a Mary Poppins right there and set off into the clear blue skies, never to be seen again. 

Have you ever had a mishap with your beloved pet? Maybe he went to the toilet in a public place? Maybe he knocked over a small child and made them cry? I think at some point we have all been ashamed of our little darlings. Let me know what shenanigans your cats and dogs have gotten up to.

Until next time,

-Chris

Oliver says 'ACCIDENTS HAPPEN'