KB's Gold, not bitter ...

K-Beezer lamented the fact that there were many pictures taken at G-Squared and Astro Girl's wedding last week, but none on this here blog that featured the only sister of yours truly.

The molder of young minds even posted her objection. "(I) am sad that I haven't made an appearance on this here blog for over 12 months now! Yes 12 months! ... I trust that this case will be attended to at your earliest possible convenience," she vented.

Well, mate, this one's for you. Cheers!

A wedding (and some drinking) ...

No wonder the Serbs were going crazy at the Australian Open tennis last week. They were drinking this stuff, which would burn the curlys off the most hirsute man's chest. Not saying that's me, although I hear some girls like hairy chests. The author had a wonderful time at G-Squared and Astro Girl's wedding last weekend, even though:

(a) It was on a Sunday
(b) JB had to work on Monday
(c) I had to stand for more than an hour at the ceremony, which ...
(d) Was half in Serbian

Still, I was reunited with the Black Pearl, my old Deakin mate (above right) from last millenium and the other regular fixtures (Cousin Davis, Cameroon, Can't Stop The Rush and K-Beezer to name a few, the latter giving me grief for not updating the blog). I couldn't get them all in a picture, so this one will have to do. Cheers!

Pump a fist in the air, like you just don't care ...

All three love sports and are happy enough to clench a fist in the name of this here blog. In the vein of ESPN's "On This Day", images of George Foreman and Pat Rafter join me in celebrating the special date, January 10.

Rafter, a wonderful ambassador for his sport as well as good blokes everywhere, like me, retired from tennis on this day four years ago. Foreman, like me, celebrates his birthday today. He might be more well-known for his fat grilling machine than his prior boxing career these days, but I'm convinced the old bloke, who turns 58 today, is still fighting.

As for that other old bloke? Well, the glass half-full says he is now half of Foreman's age, turning 29 today. Conversely, he also embarks on the first day of his 30th year. Gulp. Thanks to everyone who have contacted me so far. Apart from fielding calls and responding to text messages, I've been fairly quiet. I'm just getting ready to go out for lunch with the Blog Family before tonight's big poker game with the fantasy basketball crew.

For other interesting things that occurred on my birthday, check out Wikipedia, which ironically began on this day six years ago as part of Nupedia, before becoming a separate site five days later.

Here, cowboy bars and dance clubs don't exist ...

And to think life was getting boring. Remember when I met legendary singer-songwriter, John Vanderslice, in a Seattle record store in September 2005? Maybe the picture, above left, will refresh your memory. Well, I got to see the great man open for The Mountain Goats at the Corner Hotel last Friday. As you can see, above right, he's changed a fair bit since then. As for me, well, I look pretty much the same. I hasten to add that both the shirts I'm wearing were purchased in the Emerald City.

I flew solo to the gig, but caught up with Starbate there. She was impressed with JV, who was in turn impressed with my employer, the esteemed broadsheet, calling the newspaper the best in Australia. I was just impressed to hear him again, although he -again - declined my request to play "Me And My 424". JV told JB later it was just too hard to perform live by himself, but he was happy to sign another album for me. As you can see, I'm now the proud owner of two personally signed CDs from JV.

JV was also impressed by the interview he had with Murfuoso, my mate who wrote an awesome story, perhaps on my persistent insistence that the paper give some serious ink to an unknown and underrated muso. Murfuoso, hosting a party for his American sister-in-law, was unable to attend the show, but I went from the party to the gig and back to the party again, which stopped a couple of hours before the break of dawn but after the consumption of many gin and tonics.

It was the start of a big weekend and the beginning of my final week off before I return back to work. On Saturday, I attended a farewell party for the Rayman (pictured right) who heads back to Scotland in less than a week's time. My New Year's Resolution of trying to maintain an optimum level of health and fitness meant I abstained from beer - as I have since January 1 - which could have helped me compete in the Rip To River yesterday morning, had I just got to bed a little earlier. A gale force wind persisted for most of the arduous 10-kilometre run along the beach from Point Lonsdale to Ocean Grove, home of the District Attorney. According to the local tabloid, his time was 65 minutes and 21 seconds, much better than my time of 71 minutes and 6 seconds, good enough for 116th position. That's the positive spin. The reality, however, is that I only beat three other guys in my age group. A rusty start to the year but in all honesty, I was happy enough to not stop yesterday and continue with my Cliff Young shuffle as the conditions, which also included driving rain at one point, were truly awful, but apparently much better than last year's stifling heat. Be thankful for small mercies.

My hit-and-run hole-in-one ...

Happy new year! While one of my favourite bands in the whole world, Death Cab For Cutie, wrote a song about January 1 and not feeling any different, I have returned from my summer soujourn a changed man.

You see, during the Blog Family holiday on the south coast of that other state, New South Wales, I renewed an affair with the game of golf and in the process joined an exclusive club.

I hit a hole-in-one! Just in case you missed it, I HIT A HOLE-IN-ONE!

No, I'm not making it up! My brother-in-law, Cameroon, as well as my cousin's boyfriend where there to witness this amazing spectacle. The shot was far from textbook: a five iron hit with an amazingly low trajectory from around 150 metres out on the 5th hole at the Catalina Country Club that, from memory (it seems all so vivid now) bounced on the front of the green and rolled and rolled and rolled ... until it dropped in the cup, earning the high fives from my playing partners and anyone else in the vacinity who heard my amazing screams. It was unbelievable! But I didn't return to G-Town a millionaire despite purchasing $50 worth of lottery tickets I purchased the next day.

Having a hate-hate relationship with the game of golf for a number of years, I think I'll take it a bit more seriously in 2007. You know, go out and buy some new clubs. It's not just because of the ace. I improved considerably in a few days. On my first outing, I hit an atrocious 146, living up to the NAGA award I won so many years ago. But on December 29, 2006, which will now forever be known as JB's Hole-In-One Day, I went for 113 and later followed it up with a 121 before the dawn of 2007. No, I'm not going to challenge Tiger Woods (even though I can beat him on his computer game that I've spent so much time on, earning more than $US50 million in the process). But, hopefully, I can look like less of a goose than I have in the past - hence the NAGA award. I'll never be short of playing partners. Cameroon and Cousin Davis are obsessed with the game as is AC Literally who, literally, is due back soon.

Overall, it was a great trip. I went sour on Batemans Bay on the corresponding trip a couple of years back because developers had turned this former coastal hamlet into something else entirely. Maybe it was because I spent so much time on the golf course as well as a fair bit of time playing poker and Tiger Woods, but it has earnt an upgrade in my books. But with my grandma's house - which I forgot to add looks over the golf course - being up for sale, who knows when I'll be back.

Tourist sights in NSW were taken in during the ten-plus hour trip to and from The Bay. On the way up on Boxing Day, yours truly said hello to the famed Dog on the Tuckerbox, five miles (eight kilometres for the metric folk) outside of Gundagai. On my return I paid homage to the HMAS Otway in Holbrook, which has since earnt the name "The Submarine Town" despite being nowhere near the ocean.