XXXX Beer

I’ve enlisted more help on this post, so you’ll find that it’s much more technologically advanced – it has pictures, tags, categories, hyperlinks, correct spelling, the whole nine yards.

Due to my internet ineptitude, we missed the early train to the zoo this morning.  The following story problem therefore presented itself for a solution:  Justin and Kim want to go to the zoo.  Entry to the zoo costs $53 (per person) and the operating hours of the zoo are from 9:30AM to 4PM daily.  The train from Brisbane to the zoo runs every two hours.  If Justin and Kim miss the early train to the zoo, will they be able to take the maximum number of cute animal photos per dollar?  The answer, my friends, is no.

Plan B was therefore hatched and executed, which was to ride the CityCat (the ferry) from the northern (downstream) terminus to the southern (uh, upstream) terminus, then walk back home.  We took quite a few pictures along the way, two of which are posted here, with stories.

originally uploaded by buiversonian.

This is a blurry ibis in front of a building, taken from the CityCat.  As you can see, I have some practice to do with my panning shots.  In my defense, both the bird and myself were moving objects in opposite directions at variable velocities at the time of the shot.  I solved the first story problem, you can do the calculus for this one.

But that’s not the point of the photo.  The point is that you can clearly see an annoying black spot in the upper middle of the photo.  It was undetected in the preview screen of the camera, but let me tell you that when I uploaded the photos to the computer it was in ALL 164 photos I took today.  Through trial and error this evening as I tried to clean everything from the outside in, with no luck, this spot has been diagnosed as as $150 speck of dust on the image sensor of the camera (that’s what it will cost to clean it here in Au$tralia). Out, OUT! damn spot.

But then again, that’s not the point of the post either.  The point of this post is local beer.

4X as it was…, originally uploaded by buiversonian.

This is actually a borrowed idea from JPG, but I thought that the recipients of the postcards would enjoy the context.  Oops, if you don’t receive this post card, I (we) still love you, but don’t have your address, as it was, umm, lost in transit…?

XXXX (“four-X”) beer is the state beer of Queensland, and this is a picture of the downtown(ish) brewery of XXXX beer. For context, if Weinhards were still brewed in downtown Portland, if everyone in Oregon was fiercely loyal to it, and if all the other states had their own brand of mediocre beer that their citizens were fiercely loyal to – it would be like Australia. Then again, if Weinhards was gutted and turned into a swanky bar where frat-types congregated to get drunk, that would kind of be like Australia, too. I say kind of, because Australians gut and swankify churches, department stores, and post offices to party in. They keep their breweries intact.

-Justin

originally uploaded by thien-kim.

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don’t have my ducks in a row

Kim has invited me to be a contributor on her site so that, she claims, she doesn’t have to listen to me pester her about putting things on her blog.  Now it’s my responsibility to follow through with posting my thoughts, which only seems fair.  Problem is I’m new to this, and there’s bound to be some glitches, so bear with me.

While there are turkeys aplenty here (see Kim’s previous post, with picture) there is no Thanksgiving in Australia.  Turns out the British military didn’t find themselves in need of  assistance from the native inhabitants the way the British religious persecutees did, and “thankful” wasn’t quite the right word to describe “we’ve found a God-forsaken place to dump our criminal element”.  They found fit to call that Australia Day.

So as I wrote to a friend that asked me a few days ago if there was any tofurkey in Australia; being no such thing as Thanksgiving, there isn’t a lot of demand for an alternative to turkey from the vejjos (vegetarians).  Similarly, there are no turkeys to be found in the supermarkets (I imagine because they’re hard to simply slip on the barbie).  Kim found us a suitable substitute down the road in Chinatown, however.  Our traditional Thanksgiving dinner of fowl was saved by a barbecued duck.

Now here’s where the row of ducks becomes scattered, as the picture we took of our particular duck is on the camera and not on the computer in a convenient place for me to post here and now.  But let me tell you two things about this duck.  1.  It was all dark meat!  Which was great because I love dark meat and hate making gravy.  2.  The head was still on, but barbecued and a bit blackened around the beak.  And perhaps then it’s best for the vejjos and those waiting for cute animal pictures that I didn’t post it after all.

Cheers,
Justin

Happy Thanksgiving!

Originally uploaded by buiversonian

I would like you to believe that I am a photographer of such ability and talent that not a single one of my photographs ever turns out blurry.

I would also like you to believe in dragons, unicorns, and magic beans that sprout into giant beanstalks overnight.

I totally paparazzi’d this turkey on a Brisbane street while Justin pretended not to know me. He is too cool for school and I have no shame. Instead of taking flight, the turkey got into a limo that was idling around the corner.

I didn’t even get its autograph.

THIS IS LOUD, IF YOU’RE WATCHING WITH SOUND.

That’s not microphone fuzz you’re hearing. See the rooftop light up with every lightning strike; see the rain pouring down in sheets against the light in the breezeway to the left. I spared y’all the hail. How can there be hail when it’s 70 degrees Fahrenheit outside? Australia is amazing.

Justin was trying to photograph giant bats for y’all prior to all the sturm und drang. Leaving the tripod in Portland was a mistake. He counted lightning bolts instead: 172 in a minute. Can anybody throw 172 marshmallows a minute, one at a time? I offer a prize to anyone who sends me video of someone throwing 172 marshmallows a minute, one at a time.

Lastly, Justin would like you to know the following:

“The city received 7 inches of rain over the past two nights, 22% of the Portland annual average. The hills outside the city have received 19 inches in the past two days (two storms), which is a more impressive 53% of the annual average for Portland.

Also, there was a porta-potty in the river this morning.”

Mama bird and baby bird

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A Partial Reckoning of the Last 13 Days.

Justin and I have been apartment hunting for the past two weeks. And because we’re in Australia now, and because it has been a hunt, we’ve been wearing a lot of khaki, knee socks, and saying Crikey! when we show up for inspections. I like to think that the leasing agents find this behavior endearing, that and the letter we bring with us that tells them how much money Justin makes annually.

While we’ve been looking for a place to put our modem, I’ve been freeloading internet at a cafe near our temporary accommodation. I usually run up a $40 AUD bill by the time I’m done working for the day. Don’t ask. I’m ashamed to tell you just how much coffee that is. I’m also ashamed to tell you about the fondness I’ve developed for the smooth jazz CD they play on repeat there.

Another place where I like to blow my allowance for the week is at a bike shop. At this bike shop, I purchased the Park SW-7 for $27.50. It was titanium. Not. Things here are more expensive than in Portland.

I did find this, though, which I have not ever seen in Portland:

 

It’s a Banana Guard! I have taken to calling it the Banana Guard 2000. It is right up there with the Can-tainer.

I think it is the second most exciting bicycle accessory ever. It is hard molded plastic, available in green (see above), yellow, red, blue, and purple. It is recyclable, at least where #5 plastics are recyclable. It has a nice snap closure that makes a satisfying SNAP! sound when it is completely closed. There are holes in the plastic shell to ensure that your banana can breathe so that it won’t become overripe before you’re ready to snack. It is large enough to hold medium-sized bananas, and it will cradle smaller bananas too, in the crook. After you’ve eaten your banana, it will hold the peel.

It is also probably dishwasher safe.

We saw a dead possum in the road…

…but how about this photograph of a butterfly instead?

The Beginning of The Expat Life, in rhyme.

We go to the airport. We arrive at the gate.

We wait and we wait. We wait at the gate.

At our gate they say no. No, you can’t go.

There is fog in LA. The plane cannot land. Can you, will you make other plans?

Other plans? Do we have to? We’re ready to go! Please, can we go?

They say no.

Come back tomor-row.

We go home and we sleep. We return in the morn.

We arrive at the gate.

At the gate, they say yes.

Hooray, they said yes! We fly and we fly, to Los Ange-les.

We wait and we wait in Los Ange-les.

We see Prince. We see Scott. We see Prince and see Scott, in Los Ange-les.

A new gate, a new plane, a much larger plane. On this plane there’s no Prince and no Purple Rain.

There’s also no Scott, or any other old friends.

We fly and we fly. It is a long flight. We fly and we fly, on through the night.

After night it is day. We lost Halloween.

It is warm, it is bright when we land in Syd-nay.

In Syd-nay, we get on a much smaller plane. This plane, we will take it all the way to Brisbane.

It is a short flight.