Archive for December, 2009

It Ought Not’ve Happened That Way

December 31, 2009

I was going to write an entry featuring the top ten most popular Basement Life posts of 2009. But considering Basement Life only has six posts to speak of so far, I was a afraid that I’d be caught a few candidates short.

Then I thought, why not just fabricate a few entries to make it seem like Basement Life has been around since December 1999. I had some good ideas, too. There was going to be one where Jacquie and I went out to Rangitoto, the volcano in the harbor that’s now a park with hiking trails and park rangers. Rangitoto used to be overrun with various invasive species. Then the government cracked down and shipped all the destructive buggers to Australia, which never turns away an invasive species if it can help it.

My entry was going to begin in the Fuller Ferry terminal where we saw a sign that read, “Following pest eradication on Rangitoto Island and Motutapu, please help to ensure the islands stay pest free. Check your bags and shoes for seeds, dirt, insects, mice and rats before traveling to the islands.” Jacquie couldn’t believe the new restrictions. She never travels anywhere without a mouse or a rat in her shoe. When she complained to the ferryman, he just folded his arms and shook his head.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Like the sign says, please remove all rodents from your bags and shoes.”

“Fascists!” Jacquie screamed. But seeing that people were staring at her, she ultimately emptied her shoes of several mice and rats and we were able to board the ferry and visit Rangitoto where we had a wonderful time.

So, that was the caliber of material I wanted to doctor in order to give the impression that this blog has been around forever. But in order to come up with a decade’s worth of material, I calculated that I would have needed at least ten years to create the material. That was time I just did not have to spare.

So I started writing a song. And I’d like to share it with you. It’s kind of an anthem to the last ten years, the good old Oughts.  The song is really terrible and the recording is even worse. So if you listen to it and you don’t like it, take heart this New Years that things can only get better once you turn off the music.

Unfortunately, I can’t upload mp3 files yet because I’m too cheap to pay for the privilege. So if you’re curious please follow the link (it takes a few seconds to download) and now without further ado, Broken Caravan, an anthem to the oughts.

Good night everybody and happy new year

Posted in Musical Interlude | 3 Comments »

A Touching Christmas Story

December 31, 2009

Last week I called my mother who lives 14,198 kilometers away (or .0473 light seconds) in the far-off wintry latitudes of the New York State Thruway. It was Christmas morning there, and the snow fell gently upon the quiet world outside.

Dear mum sat by the fireplace, quietly darning her work sock in the warm glow of the Yule log. The light on her face seemed to brighten when she heard the telephone ring. She had a premonition that her son would be on the line.

My sister was there with my brother in-law and their three children, and when my mother told them it was me, they all gathered around the hearth with fresh cups of hot cocoa in their hands.

“Oh, son,” my mother said. “It is fitting for you to call us on this, the most family-oriented-holiday-greeting-card-friendly holiday known to humanity. We have not heard from you these many months and there’s so much we desire to learn about your new country. It’s hard even to know where to begin. Tell us, what medium-budget science fiction television series does the Auckland skyline most evoke in your imagination?”

I couldn’t believe the question because that was exactly the thing that had been weighing on my mind, and the reason for my call. I just had to tell my mother, after being out of touch for so long, that ever since the first time I saw the Auckland cityscape, I’d been thinking, “Any respectable low- to medium-budget science fiction television series from Canada would be proud to use Auckland as the model for its establishing exterior shots of extraterrestrial locales.”

A tear rolled down my cheek that Christmas morning and I began to choke up so much, it was hard for me to get the words out that my mother so longed to hear.

“Auckland,” I whispered. “Auckland reminds me of Atlantis from the television series Stargate Atlantis.”

Soon that part of the conversation ended and it was my mother’s turn to tell me what was going on in her life, so I hung up as quickly as I could. But then I felt bad. It seemed after some reflection that Auckland didn’t really look that much like Atlantis from Stargate Atlantis. Then I thought, so what? With a little computer magic, Auckland could certainly be the grand capital city of some alien planet. Or at least a sprawling truck stop where a guy could grab a steak, down some amphetamines and enjoy the services of a prostitute, except in outer space.

I thought, hey, I’m unemployed. Why don’t I see what Auckland would look like after a little tender loving care from my computer, just like they’d do for a medium-budget science fiction television series for Canadians. After developing a graphic algorithm and plugging in the data, the computer rendered this:

Wait until the Canadians see that.

∞

Posted in Culture, Migration | 9 Comments »

Last Night’s Sunset

December 30, 2009

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment »

Might as Well Jump

December 29, 2009

Some people in New Zealand have swimming pools and most own at least one car. But nearly everyone has a trampoline. Hyperbole? Why not. Yet walk down any street in Auckland and rest assured that if you suddenly get the urge to jump up and down, you won’t have to do it the old-fashioned way with your stupid old boring legs. Because there’s bound to be a trampoline nearby to assist you in meeting your leaping needs. Indeed, there are at least three trampolines on my small block alone, including this one below.

Not too shabby. But what does this fascination with assisted-leaping apparatuses tell us about the New Zealand psyche? Is it the first sign of a collective yielding to cabin fever? Or is it the crowning achievement of New Zealand’s national space program? Or is it just a funny coincidence?

The trampoline-industrial-complex will have you believe that assisted leaping is fun, but they have yet to convince children of that fact. Maybe that’s because safety standards have improved since the dark ages of the 1980s when trampoline-related deaths seemed not so uncommon. Children just won’t do anything unless there’s a guarantee of somebody getting hurt. That’s why despite the prevalence of such contraptions throughout Auckland you will never under any circumstance see a child have fun anywhere near a trampoline.

To get a picture of what we’re dealing with here, check out this map (view The Trampolines of Auckland, NZ in a larger map) I made showing all the trampolines in a 1.6 square kilometer area of Mount Eden. Note that though it is a sunny day and many of the trampolines are perfectly visible, there isn’t one child jumping up and down with assistance.

Posted in BottomFeed, Culture | 10 Comments »

It’s a Small World After All

December 29, 2009

New Zealand is a tiny place, if you ask me. I’ve only been here for six weeks now and I’m pretty sure I’ve met everyone. They all ask me the same question: just what is it about New Zealand that makes it seem so different from what you’re used to back home?

Well, if I could gather the entire New Zealand population in one room so I wouldn’t have to repeat myself eight times, I’d give them my answer. I’d say to them that between the United States, a Nation of 300 million citizens, and New Zealand, a pair of inflatable life rafts adrift near Antarctica, the single most blaring difference is almost too obvious to mention. It’s the volcanoes. They’re everywhere!

Auckland, the city where I live, sprawls over 49 volcanoes, like a picnic blanket spread out over 49 volcanoes of much smaller dimension. As I’ve written in this blog before, Mt. Eden, like all the other volcanoes, isn’t dangerous anymore. They all pretty much blew their wads. They’re finished in this town. Washed up.  Harmless. If you ever come to Auckland, feel free to visit them with impunity and a naive feeling of security, in flagrant obliviousness to the infernal powers of creation that would make your heart quail to countenance. And don’t forget to stop by our refreshment stand.

But know this, and be warned, and lo, while the 49 volcanoes that have blown up around Auckland in the last 140,000 years may be extinct, the Auckland Volcanic Field that fed them is still quite active and will remain so for the next 900,000 years. The existing volcanoes are unlikely to erupt ever again but new ones are guaranteed to form. What’s more, the Volcanic Field has seen an increase in both the volume and frequency of eruptions over the last 20,000 years, with the biggest one, Rangitoto, being the most recent. Rangitoto emerged 600 years ago out of the depths of Auckland Harbor, forming the largest real estate bubble ever. Scientists say there’s a five percent chance the area will see another eruption within fifty years. But what do scientists know?

Actually, I believe them for once, and I’ll tell you why. The other day, Jacquie and I decided to clear our heads after a very stimulating and dramatic Christmas celebration with her family. After about three martinis, we thought it would be a good idea to take a walk up our favorite (wink, wink) “extinct” volcano, Mount Eden, upon whose western slope we reside. Mount Eden (Maungawhau, the ‘Mountain of the Whau tree in Māori) rises 643 feet above sea level, making it the highest point known to man. The view was so nice, we decided to take some photographs of the Central Business District, a few kilometers to the north.

As any fool can see from the three above photographs taken moments apart, Auckland’s Central Business District is moving away from Mount Eden at an alarming rate. It was a good thing Jacquie and I spotted the danger and an even better thing that we were drunk at the time otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to find the courage to warn everyone of the calamity New Zealand faced. We had to get the word out to the public. Luckily, and by coincidence, everyone in New Zealand happened to be there already, gathered at the top of the mountain for the country’s annual group photo.

We were on the opposite side of the cone, so we had to shout at the top of our lungs. ”Hey, over here,” Jacquie screamed.

“Hey,” someone screeched in return. “How are you going?”

“Oh, not so good, eh,” Jacquie bellowed. “And it’s probably going to get worse.”

“You reckon?” the stranger stammered.

“I do reckon,” Jacquie said.

“Is that Jacquie, by the way?” the stranger said. “Jacquie, is that you mate?”

The stranger, funnily enough, turned out to be an old friend of Jacquie’s from “uni”  (short for “University”). They screamed pleasantly across the volcanic cone for about eight minutes before they realized that though they were pleased to see each other after so many years, they just didn’t have much in common any more, and so the conversation came to an abrupt and awkward halt.

“Anyway, it was good to see you,” Jacquie said.

Just then, somebody else screamed in terror, for he too realized that he had gone to Uni with Jacquie, and what at first seemed to be the End of the World eventually turned into an impromptu Uni reunion; indeed, a veritable re-uni-union, which dragged on and on into hours of awkward silence. Similarly, the danger of death by violent tectonic upheaval turned into an almost certain death by boredom.

The whole experience made me wonder. What could we who live in the Auckland Volcanic Field do to save ourselves in the event that a new volcano exploded and so many people had to get out of the area in a hurry? How would we save ourselves? Luckily, the Auckland City Council has developed an evacuation plan.

∞

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Posted in Auckland Geology, BottomFeed | 4 Comments »

Left Behind: Pathetic Pet-Fawning Photos

December 23, 2009

Norman and I had a...platonic relationship.

Jacquie picked out Norman (left) from the cat rescuers at the Kips Bay Petco on 22nd Street and Second Avenue in New York. It was a cool, sunny October afternoon in 2006 and we hadn’t gotten over the untimely death of the other cat we’d adopted together, whom we euthanized that June after the old man contracted a rare venereal disease during one of his excursions to Thailand. I remember that we were still wearing our black veils and speaking in somber, monotonous tones, droning on and on about our existential anxieties like some boring Eugene O’Neill drama. We’d been in this state for months, swooning over the loss of our poor, deaf, stinky-assed cat, Puffy.

That’s when Jacquie saw Norman. She asked if she could take him out of the cage. The cat rescue volunteers, unaccustomed to human interaction, ran away from us, hiding and napping in some of the empty shelves in the back, alternately hissing at and grooming one another. Their ways were not our ways. But through sheer patience, we succeeded in getting Norman out of his cage for a closer look.

It was love at first sight.  Oh, Norman. You came and you gave without taking. You kissed me and stopped me from shaving. And I need you today, oh Norman. I knew Jacquie had her heart set on this guy, but I didn’t really want another cat. Not after what happened to Puffy. So we decided to take a walk to clear our heads. But when we returned, Norman was still there, and from that day on, he crawled into our hearts like a big, fluffy parasitic nematode.

And the three of us lived happily together for three years. More or less.

But now all we have left are pictures, and memories and a few extra cans of Natural Balance. Sure, we wanted to take Norman with us to Auckland. We’d planned on it. We started the process in February, 2009, getting Norman tested for rabies, updating his vaccinations. New Zealand is quite restrictive concerning pets, with reason. They’re especially wary of rabies and so they require a series of tests leading up to the very day of departure. The cost to do this by ourselves would be at least $2,000, if not more. There was a transcontinental flight to arrange, a week-long stay in Los Angeles for the final battery of tests and inspections and a month long quarantine in Auckland. Soon we realized that if we made even the slightest error in the paperwork or the procedure, we could end up spending thousands of dollars more to correct it.

We called a full-service company, and their rates began at $5,000. We just couldn’t justify that kind of expense  for a cat when we had other priorities that needed addressing, such as my leather bag fetish, and Jacquie’s ever-growing collection of Smurf tchotchkes.

So we had to find a home for Norman. But that’s a story for another day. Excuse me while I go cry.

So many nights, he'd sit by our window, waiting for someone to feed him some vittles. He was always there when Jacquie and I came home from work. The day we took this picture we were having a sidewalk sale. Norman was hoping to put himself on the market.

Contemplating the origin of his cat food, Norman briefly considers becoming a vegetarian.

Posted in Introduction, Migration, Norman | 2 Comments »

New Zealand. What a schlep.

December 21, 2009
There are 17 mistakes in this picture. Can you find them all ?

Auckland's downtown business district (actual size) as seen from the top of Mount Eden, one of the area's 49 extinct volcanoes. Dangerous? No. But that's just how I like to live.

Hello friends, relatives, enemies and the indifferent.

This is really just a test page. It will be revised as soon as I can figure out how to use this publishing tool.

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Posted in Introduction, Uncategorized | 3 Comments »

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