Pongo is old now.

I watch him move slowly and carefully in the garden. His cataract eyes and poor hearing makes it difficult for him to recognise me.

He no longer chases away the red, blue rosellas and yellow crested galahs that dared ventured into his perfect garden.

Once they would scatter shrieking into the the sky when he appeared. Now they ignore him. Pongo watches them briefly, lets out a cursory growl and quickly returns to his thoughts.

Pongo sometimes shows moments of youthfulness when his old creaky body allows him. Perhaps it’s his way of protesting against the advancing years. A brief respite from the inevtiable effects of ageing.

Pongo is my friend. I met him several years ago. At the time I was thinking about buying the house next door. As I walked around the property, Pongo appeared from across the fenceless yard. He thought I was an intruder and bailed me up. After that brief confrontation we eventually became great mates.

We saw each other nearly every day. He would always come over to my house or I would drop in to see him.

Now Pongo waits. If he is in the garden he still makes the long journey across the yard to greet me. I watch him shuffle towards me and wonder how much longer can he keep going.

Yes, Pongo is old, at 15. That’s old for a dog.

Last week we spent a great four days in Wollongong (Aust.) working on an Appreciative Inquiry summit for a client.

Neil Samuels and Sue James led the Appreciative Inquiry facilitation, Donna McGeorge did the graphic recording.

My job, for this assignment, was to deliver specifc Tai Chi energizers throughout the summit and to link them in with the Appreciative Inquiry themes.

I had a narrow stage on which to strut my stuff but it was good fun to have 160 people do Tai Chi and Chi Kung exercises. There was good chi in the room and it helped energise the participants for the other segments.

Besides the summit, I enjoyed staying in the Novotel hotel where the summit was held. My room number was 911!

My highlights apart from the summit itself were:

• Walking along the beach in the morning and taking photographs – one elderly man offered me a deal of life time and said ‘you take the pictures and I will make the money.’
• The terrific food – I was a real guts and ate everything that I could fit on my plate and then some more. Well, you never know when your next meal will come along.
• Sitting outside my room, stretching  my long skinny legs onto the balcony rail – watching the clouds, sea, shoreline of the beach, people jogging, surfing and walking their dogs.
• Walking along Wollongong beach at night after a party.

Lowlights

• Sitting cramped in one airline (not Quantas) we travelled on. I wish they would provide me with a crowbar so I can leverage myself in and out of the seat. Results for sitting cramped up were a left knee and calf muscle that were not happy.
• Listening to annoying and loud music when taking off. Next time I’m getting a seat on the wing!
• Travelling through Sydney to Wollongong. The suburbs never ended, like the bumper to bumper traffic. All this on a Sunday!

It’s interesting that as a presenter people see the fun side of what I do, but what they don’t realise is all the hours of preparation required to make the presentation successful.

On one of the days Sue and I spent 15 hours working. Much of that was behind the scenes getting stuff ready for the next day.

But that is all part of being a presenter. You do whatever is required to make the event a success.

That’s what professionals do.

Oh, they also have fun – otherwise what’s the point.

Footnote: I will post up more photos on my facebook page.

Here is a lovely clip of actor Brian Cox teaching a toddler Shakespeare.

Click here to view the embedded video.

This time I thought I would try my debonair, cool, George Clooney walk.

But  Hershey and Creamy were not fooled.

They knew something was up and scattered throughout the house.

They could sense they were about to be snatched.

After several attempts, we cornered them and grabbed them.

And into the cat cage they went.

It was time for their Vet check up.

Creamy was quiet as usual but Hershey continued to  meow  as we drove to the Vet.

They were not happy.

While I sat in the waiting room with a dog, a cat and two humans I noticed a book on the table.

It was the title that caught my attention – Happiness is ….

I flicked through the pages and looked at the various photographs of people and animals. And read the captions of what happiness meant to the people in the book.

I thought of what happiness meant to me.

And it has the same meaning for Hershey and Creamy – as demonstrated when they got back from the Vets and scooted out of their cage.

A sense of freedom.

Footnote: I think I’ll give up on that George Clooney walk.

Now let’s get this straight.

I don’t like manual labour and manual labour doesn’t like me.

But the other day it caught up with me.

I was press-ganged into actually getting off my backside to do some physical labour.

It was mid Saturday morning. I was working on my computer, unshaven, and straining my brain thinking of Twitter gems to share with the world.

The phone rang.

And silly me answered.

‘We need your help.’

‘Oh?’ I said.

‘Yeah, we need help to pitch the tent and do a few other things for the wedding.’

‘Now?’

‘Yeah, if you can make it.’

‘Okay, I’ll be there in 45 minutes.’

So I got into my old bomb (car) and drove to the site and was greeted by my mate and that nuisance, ‘manual labour’.

For the next three hours I was part of the dogsbody team, lifting, moving, pushing, kicking, rolling, tying all sort of odds and ends to get the outdoor wedding area into shape.

I was also the valet (no tips, unfortunately), directing cars up the driveway – “just past the green garage and turn right, plenty of space.”

‘Thanks, mate’

Well, that was okay until I heard something laugh at me.

I wasn’t impressed. I looked around but there was no-one there.

More laughter.

I looked up.

There it was.

The thing that laughed at me.

A kookaburra.

It was perched high up on a power pole looking at me with its beak up in the air.

‘You rude snob,’ I yelled

It just looked at me and laughed.

So I ignored it.

Because you can never win against a kookaburra. They always have the last laugh.

Anyway, I finally finished directing the traffic and sat down to relax.

And you know what?

That manual labour fellow is not bad.

I actually enjoyed the workout.

But the next time the phone rings on a Saturday morning I’m going back to bed.

I don’t want to over do it.

I felt like doing a Peter Finch in the movie Nework (1976).

Running to the nearest window and sticking my head out and yelling ‘I’m as mad as hell and I’m not taking this anymore.’

But I didn’t. I just stayed in my seat and suffered.

Suffered in silence from a speaker who talked and talked and talked.

It was evening and I was tired. The speaker started well, was affable and interesting but when he droned on for 9o minutes (an eternity) I was mad.

The speaker was so caught up in his speech he was oblivious to the discomfort and boredom of the audience.

He commited two cardinal sins in speaking – ignoring the reactions of the audience and going well over time.

So the next time you speak in public, don’t punish your audience.

Have mercy.

I was watching the NBA game between Portland Trailblazers and Oklahoma City Thunder and discovered this inspirational vision.

I thought it was live but found out later it happened three years ago.

It’s a clip of former national baksetball association star player, Maurice Cheeks, helping out a young girl.

All I could say while watching this inspirational piece was ‘Good on you, Cheeks’.

Click here to view the embedded video.

How difficult can it be?

My driveway is about the size of the West Gate Bridge.

All you have to do is to throw the shrink-wrapped, rolled up newspaper about ten metres.

And violá (pardon my French).

You have a newspaper that is dry.

But no.

He tossed it into a puddle of water, soaking the newspaper.

Not something I want to see when I walk down my uneven driveway to pick up my daily newspaper.

Especially when I haven’t had breakfast.

Grrrr.

Well, the other day it happened for the second time in a row and I decided to do something about it.

I was angry and I thought about contacting either the newspaper head office or the newsagent to complain immediately.

I walked back up my driveway about 40 metres, which is a marathon for me, and by the time I got to top of the driveway I had calmed down and decided to confront the newsagent.

So I took my wet, sodden, newspapers with me to show him the result of his bad throwing technique.

I wasn’t sure what to expect and was ready to be assertive if I needed to be.

Bu there was no need to be.

He looked at the wet newspapers and examined the subscription paper I’d given him which had my address on it.

He said, ‘Oh, you have that steep drive, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Well, sometimes it’s difficult throwing the newspaper because of the sharp bend, as I sometimes have a car right behind me.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know that.’

After we both agreed what was the best angle to throw the paper from the car, he offered me a free paper which I gratefully accepted.

Today I walked down my driveway and there it was!

My rolled up newspaper – up my driveway and dry.

Isn’t it amazing what you can achieve when you have a face a face conversation to sort out a misunderstanding.