Bremen was totally MOIST!

I'm back home after the Fourth Annual Whiney Expat Bloggers in Germany Meetup and may I just say... WHEW!

It was fantastic to get to meet everyone! Now I have voices to listen to in my head (keep reading before you jump to conclusions about my sanity) ... as I read your blogs.

Surely I'll carve out some time to blog a bit more about it soon, but until then I just wanted to say that I had a great time and I can't wait until next year (in *cough Berlin cough*)!

OMG, are you BLOGGING again?

Early tomorrow morning I will hop on the Deutsche Bahn headed to Bremen for the Fourth Annual Whiney Expat Bloggers in Germany Meetup. When I tell my German buddies that I'm going to Bremen they have two things to say, "Make sure to see the Stadtmusikanten statue," and "Maybe you could catch a football game".

Magical Bremen. This town is supposed to be free. Well, at least in old fairy tales. It is the setting of the original story Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten (The Town Musicians of Bremen). Here you can read the story in side-by-side German and English. The animals were all headed to Bremen to get freedom from their respective crappy owners. A little freedom, that sounds nice! A little time away from normal life, that sounds even better.

Most of what I actually expect is a group of English native speakers getting together for a little fellowship and sparking conversation as we eat, drink and be merry all over Bremen. Something tells me that it will be interesting. I don't have the figures in front of me at the moment, but I seem to remember that there were at least 27 people signed up for one of the meals... cool!

This get-together gives me the chance to meet up close and personal with people which until now I have only known through the Internet. Sure I've managed to meet a handful of them face to face, but the great majority are only known to me by their blog handles.

With so many expats in Germany I've often wondered how I ended up reading these people's blogs. I bet it all started with Mausi. It is fuzzy in my mind (just like many things) exactly how I happened upon her blog, but soon I realized that I was going to that website every day, checking for an update.

All in all this blogging thing is pretty viral. I would read the comments posted by others and follow the links to their blogs. After a while I began checking Mausi and others' blogrolls to find bloggers I might like. Of course this got hard to manage without software help, and I got into Bloglines to keep it all straight. Wouldn't you know it that Google came out with it's Google Reader not long after I painstakenly put links to my favorite blogs into Bloglines complete with a detailed filing system? Well, I'm sticking to my Bloglines until I have to make a major change, dammit. Yup stats checkers... that blip from Bloglines is me.

Which brings me to another point. I spend a lot of time reading blogs but rarely actually comment on them. Most of the time I don't feel that I have anything to add, sometimes I see that others have covered my salient point in the comments section before my arrival, and other times I am still giggling from the post I've just read and don't want to spoil that smile by putting my head to the task of formulating a reasonable sentence.

So why do we blog? Deep inside I've always wondered if it is some kind of narcissistic need to put myself out there. I know for certain that it isn't because I'm a fantastic writer. I've always thought that a true log of one's life can be quite therapeutic. Looking back on such a thing years later can give a person perspective which they just could not see at the time of the event.

For about a year after coming to Germany I maintained a website which was very much like a blog. I would update my friends and family back home with stories of what I was doing and of course pictures which would give them an idea of what my life across the pond was all about. This made it seem as though I actually had a REASON to blog.

But after the discovery of the other German expat blogs I was pulled toward them, perhaps in search of kinship. These people have probably had similar life experiences to me, this is why I like to "spend time with them". Don't we almost always gravitate to people with similar attributes to ourselves? Come on... how many other people could possibly understand my initial shock, then understanding, and eventual appreciation of the German toilet?

This blogging thing smacks of that interesting need for similarity and emotional bonding in us all. Think about it, somewhere I am sure that there is a blogging group of people who all love to collect plastic spoons. What were the the chances of them meeting each other in the 70's? Maybe there was even a "Plastic Spoon Collector" magazine... but what would its subscriber list look like? 300 people spread out all over the world. What the Internet does is bring people of similar interests closer together, making the world a smaller place.

It reminds me of my explanation to a straight friend who asked why I spent my 20's "hanging out" in gay bars. Because those people were like me! They might have come from differing social and/or educational backgrounds, they could be different races, ages, or any number of variables... but they were all gay. They all had experienced many of the same problems/situations/joys/difficulties, and I wanted to be with people who had a better chance of understanding me for who I was.

At the end of the day I am writing a log about my life. Actually I do a piss poor job of this, many people are much better about expressing the interesting side of their lives. Some even take less than exciting lives and pick out that one thing which relates to most other people's lives, and they write about it in such a way as to make you relate to them even more. Maria is one of these. The mundane aspects of life viewed through such a person can seem so delightful.

I know these bloggers in the sense that I know what they have deemed ok for passing along to the entire Internet... but trust me, there is much more to these people just as there is much more to me.

So here I sit quite excited to meet up with this eclectic group of bloggers. While I assume that we won't agree on everything, we will at least have some wonderful similarities to talk about.

Been reading:
Love story: Knut mourns his keeper - OK, so the headline is false. The article even says it is false... then why even print that headline?

lolsarahz

It is LOL Cats with a twist... a Baked Alaska twist.

It took me 30 minutes to get through the whole list. Some of them are just great!
lolsarahz is certainly good for a laugh.

Disagreez wit all Hillary wordz,
but can I haz her votz?

Dear Wilma Flintstonz,
i wuv yer hairdoo!

Here twooper twooper,
i not abuze power!

Click here for more

The United States of France

I'm really not much in a blogging mood... but this article is fascinating.

How We Became the United States of France

And all of this with only 10 days of vacation per year. :)


Also reading:
Gay marriage hurts families? There's no evidence

33% of US Vice Presidents Become President - 25% by Inheritance

It is coming!

Today I saw my first REAL RED and YELLOW leaves!

I am so excited! Fall is probably my favorite season.
The weather starts to change, the air becomes fresh - I always seem to breathe better in the fall. Part of me really enjoys the layering of clothes. It is nice to get all snuggly in a soft, warm sweater, jeans, light boots, and of course the season's first scarf. Ummph

Many of my best memories are of growing up in western Pennsylvania surrounded by literally thousands of trees. Some years it seemed the hardwoods would change colors overnight and drop all leaves within a week. Other times the fall lagged on for two months, starting in September with the last leaves being raked up in November.

It takes a good, hard early frost to produce the best leaf colors. I remember jumping for joy in the early morning as I would peer outside and see the first thick frost on the grass, this signals the beginning of the most beautiful season in one of the best places in the world to actually enjoy it.

Some people say the word Autumn instead of Fall. Not me. Not only does it sound pretentious (yup, I know the Brits are in this category), but Autumn doesn't have any real meaning behind it. Fall says exactly what happens... things FALL.

Leaves turning gold red and amber, apple picking, corn harvesting, pumpkin carving, high school football when you can still enjoy two hours outside without freezing, jumping into a pile of leaves just because you can, soup or chili in the slow cooker,wading through leaves knee deep on a forest walk, Mom canning her heart out while filling the kitchen producing such smells... ah, Fall.
Did I miss anything?

Been reading:
Don't Take His Word For It
Startle Response Linked to Politics
More Sensitive May Mean More Conservative, Study Finds

How Racisim Works

I don't know who wrote this, but it bears circulating.

How racism works

What if John McCain were a former president of the Harvard Law Review?
What if Barack Obama finished fifth from the bottom of his graduating class?

What if McCain were still married to the first woman he said 'I do' to?
What if Obama were the candidate who left his first wife after she no longer measured up to his standards?

What if Michelle Obama were a wife who not only became addicted to pain killers, but acquired them illegally through her charitable organization?
What if Cindy McCain graduated from Harvard?

What if Obama were a member of the 'Keating 5'?
What if McCain was a charismatic, eloquent speaker?

If these questions reflected reality, do you really believe the election numbers would be as close as they are?

This is what racism does. It covers up, rationalizes and minimizes
positive qualities in one candidate and emphasizes negative
qualities in another when there is a color difference.

Been reading:

Blizzard of Lies - Anyone with an Internet connection can disprove many assertions of the McCain campaign.

Hurricane Ike hits my sister's former home of Winnie, TX. I'm sure there will be more information about this later...

Palin is gloriously, fabulously unfit for duty

Sinclair Lewis and Sarah Palin

Blog House: Nightmare on Wall Street

Some days I hope there is a heaven... this is one of them.

My dear Aunt Virginia has passed away.
Her struggle is over.

SNL - 9/13/08 - Palin and Clinton - Fey and Poehler

In the opening skit of the season premiere of Saturday Night Live, Fey, playing GOP vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin, and Poehler, portraying Sen. Hillary Clinton, disagreed on just about everything.

"I was so excited when I was told Sen. Clinton and I would be addressing you tonight," Fey told the audience, channeling the Alaskan Governor, wearing a bright red suit and Palin's trademark glasses and speaking in a high-pitched accented lilt.

Poehler replied: "And I was told I'd be addressing you alone."

Poehler's Clinton then set out to define the differences between her and the conservative Alaska governor.

"I believe that diplomacy should be the cornerstone of any foreign policy," she said.

"And I can see Russia from my house," Fey's Palin replied.

Poehler continued, "I believe global warming is caused by man."

"And I believe it's just God huggin' us closer," Fey responded.

"What an amazing time we live in to think that just two years ago, I was a small-town mayor of America's crystal meth capital, and now I am just one heartbeat away from being the President of the United States," Fey chirped.

"It just goes to show that anyone can be President - all you have to do is want it," Fey continued, prompting a cackle from Poehler.

Ya gotta love the video!



UPDATE!
Well, it looks like YouTube caved to pressure and have YANKED the video.
They say that it was due to copyright infringement... but I doubt it since the thing is still all over the INTERNET.

Not Forgotten

September 11, 2001. Four U.S. commercial airliners were hijacked by terrorists and crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a remote field in Pennsylvania killing nearly 3,000 people in a matter of minutes. What lies behind the unprecedented loss of life from an attack on U.S. soil are the individual people, each one left behind family, friends and colleagues who have experienced this sad national tragedy on a distinctly personal level.

In March of this year N. and I traveled around America for a little holiday. We had arranged to visit my hometown - Somerset Pennsylvania, New York City, and Washington D.C.

When I realized that we would be visiting the three areas physically hit by the tragedy of 9/11, I took a deep breath and decided to set out to visit each of the locations, hopefully to come to terms with just a little bit of what happened and how it might be avoided in the future.

What I wasn't really prepared for was the toll the attacks had on the PEOPLE. NYC meant a visit to the World Trade Center area and a small, impromptu museum close to the site. After half an hour of walking through the displays of scorched fireman's hats, melted phones, and name badges with no owners we went below to the basement. In this small, cramped and extremely solemn area visitors could listen to recorded messages as first responders and survivors tell their stories. The sounds of desperation and grief in their voices as they described the deaths of loved ones and friends... heart wrenching. I cried. And I was not alone. Each person in that room had tears in their eyes as they listened to first-hand accounts of what happened.

As we walked back out of that basement there was a picture of the proposed memorials to be erected at the other two sites, both Shanksville Pennsylvania and The Pentagon in D.C. It reminded me that our travels would take us to the other sites very soon... and saddened me even further.

Since I know that most everyone reading this has never been and probably will never get to the area, I will try to paint a picture of the third landing site for you. The passengers on Flight 93 lost their lives at the edge of a strip-mined piece of land (meaning that there were no trees) which was at that time a fallow grassland. Shanksville is the closest village to that lonely Pennsylvania field out in the middle of nowhere. Directly over the hill of the impact site and through the woods is a small town high school where in the 70's my oldest brother graduated the same year my youngest brother started Kindergarten. If I remember correctly, the whole school had only 300 kids at that time.

As you drive down country roads on the way to the site you get the feeling that this is the REAL America. The people living on these dairy farms and in these ramshackle two story wooden houses are the ones that give America its heart. To me it is fitting that the third plane struck here... Where the "Average Joe" lives.

Those glorious twin towers in NYC were nice and all, and I'm sure they were well-chosen targets, but to me they symbolize the America which is presented for the rest of the world. My European friends are always happy to tell me that they visited the towers when they were still standing and marvel at the fact that I had never been there. To them NYC, Florida, and California make up America (with some of Texas - Dallas specifically - thrown in for those who watch trash TV). But to the families living in the Pennsylvania highlands or on the Kansas plains... NYC and California are a whole different world.

The Somerset County "country roads" are roughly paved blacktop with a hump in the center of the lane offering drainage and very often they have no lane paint. Signs other than STOP indicators are few and far between, thus the occasional tourist must navigate to the crash site by seeking out small signs sporting a red white and blue "Flight 93" printed on laminated paper attached to a wooden stake which is pounded into the gravel alongside the road.

The crash site itself sits half a mile away from the traditional memorial location, but unless they are lucky enough to be there while one of the volunteers is manning the memorial or are with a local, no one will be the wiser. All the knowledgeable visitor can see anyway is a tree line far off in the distance, the crash site itself is fenced off. The memorial site was set up in the early days as a safe vantage point for people to come to see the clean-up of the crash site... and from that overlook sprung the memorial as more and more people began dropping by and leaving a little memento of their stay.

As visitors arrive they are welcomed by a small metal outbuilding, many benches displaying names of the victims, a large plaque, a row of small crosses near a two story wooden cross, and a 40 foot chain-link fence which was erected for people to attach small remembrances and of course... flags - lots of them.

The fence usually looks almost alive. It stands on a hill buffeted by constant breezes shaking all of the memorial items, and making the flags flap and snap at attention. My first visit was in early 2002 when they really didn't know what to do with the thousands of items. Now they put them in storage, waiting for a museum or a permanent memorial in which to put them.

March of 2008 was my third visit to the site, and I assume that it will not be my last. It is interesting to see the evolution of the memorial, every year there is something new. One brother and one sister still live in the area, everyone else has scattered to the winds.

The wind. It is the only thing you will hear up there on that hill. The occasional visitor is quite somber, barely making any noise or disrupting the general feeling of heaviness at the temporary memorial. One can sit on the benches facing the direction of the crash site, pondering the senseless deaths of over 3,000 people.

The fence is always the hardest for me. This last time we went I saw a piece of paper with many colors and what looked like a picture peeking out at me. Cautiously I moved a few other items aside so that I could see the image on the laminated paper. What I uncovered was a picture of a girl, not more than ten years old in a pretty yellow dress. Beside the picture, written in a child's scrawl were the words, "I miss you daddy".
Cue the waterworks.

Ahem... um... watch this video at your own risk...
... or if you need to clear your sinuses... you know... like I do...

Piggygate

OK, so Obama isn't allowed to use phrases that come from before McCain's time.

Obama: "You Can Put Lipstick On A Pig - It's Still A Pig... You Can Wrap An Old Fish In A Piece Of Paper Called Change, It's Still Gonna Stink After Eight Years"
"John McCain Says He's About Change, Too - Except For Economic Policy, Healthcare Policy, Tax Policy, Education Policy, Foreign Policy And
Karl Rove-Style Politics"

McCain's campaign has formed a nasty outcry saying that with this statement Obama was calling the self-proclaimed "Pit bull in Lipstick", a pig. They went one step further and said that he was also guilty of calling McCain an old fish.

Well, McCain can be called a lot of things... many of them starting with the world "old". But I don't think that Obama called him an old fish. What I do know is that both of those sayings have been around "for a coon's age".

I grew up around these sayings, and I assume that McCain's crew did as well. In fact my father has thousands of them. In this case he probably would have said something like, "You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear". Would that be calling the person a pig too? I never took it that way when he said that about an endeavor I was undertaking. Perhaps I'm not as sensitive as the McCain camp.

Was Obama calling Palin a pig in lipstick? Well, in order to truly explore the possibility you must go back to something that McCain said last October when he was talking about Hillary and her health care plan. He was talking about how it sounded very much like her old plan, the one from when Billy was in the Executive chair. "I think they put some lipstick on a pig," he said, "but it's still a pig."

OH MY! Did he just call Hillary a pig?

Of course I didn't remember this obscure reference... or what the response was... this is all for someone else to do. I found out about it in an article by John Tapper, "A Piggish Debate".

What I can't help but think about is how McCain's crew jumped the gun on this one. I mean come on, this could easily slap him right back in the face with his prior comment. Why aren't his people at least checking previous statements of Johnny Boy to see if maybe he's said something similar before they come out with such righteous indignation? How smart do you have to be to have every single word this guy has uttered programmed into a system which can immediately search out similar text?

Smarter than the McCain camp I suppose.

OK, on to something else which has come across my radar screen.
Rachel Maddow (my, now I wish I could receive American TV) calling a spade a spade.

Been reading:
Few Stand to Gain on This Bailout, and Many Lose This Fannie Mae Freddie Mac shit burns my butt!

Palin, with her meat loaf and rifles, reminds us that there are two hopelessly incompatible AmericasThis makes lots of sense, I'm afraid.

Last thoughts on politics (for a few days)Expat blogger's thoughts on the election before she takes a little news break.

Video Doesn't Lie

OK, while I'm at it...
OMG! Check out this video!
The Daily Show points out the inconsistencies of the talking heads as they rationalize how great Palin is.

Sarah Palin as "Caribou Barbie"

Sarah Palin as "Caribou Barbie"
The latest term (replacing VPILF) to describe Sarah Palin is now "Caribou Barbie," so the gang over at OTR thought they would try to use their imaginations to see what the retail version of Mrs. VP might look like.
Comes with everything you see here:
- Dead Caribou
- M-16 assault rifle
- Snowmobile
- Sexy Librarian Glasses

She even talks with such fun phrases like:
- "I'm a pit bull with lipstick!"
- "My family is off-limits!"
- "What is it the Vice President actually does?"

Coming soon: Bristol Palin with inflatable baby bump and John McCain with portable green screen background!

Been reading:

• Palin switched colleges six times in six years.
• A letter from someone who has known Sarah Palin since 1992
• More on Sarah Palin – from the New York Times
• Fear And Retribution: Palin’s Pattern Of Governance
• Private and Public Infidelities: The Vetting of Sarah Palin - OMG, read it all... get past the National Enquirer crap... it is worth it.
  
• “As Alaska Turns”: The Vetting of Sarah Palin Part II
• The mighty, scary press corps
• US rejects 'false' Russia claim
• Putin maps the boundaries of greater Russia

Geeks and Whiners

I am SUCH a GEEK!
Google has just released its new browser, Chrome.
WHOA! I've been giggling uncontrollably while rubbing my hands together ever since the download!

After the installation it asked me if I would like to import my settings from Firefox... well sure... do it! AND IT DID! Everything is there! No getting used the new browser for days and tweaking it for months! Nope! I'm good to go right out of the box! AND this is just the Beta version. I bet there are more cool things to come.

Look for Internet Explorer and Mozilla Firefox to make some major changes in the near future. In fact, I bet that the developers from each of those browsers haven't had much sleep in the last week or so!

On other not so geeky news... (well, that might be debatable) I finally got my shit together (and the wife calmed down) and am now prepared to go to the Whiney Expatriate Blogger Meet-Up in Bremen later this month. Right this moment I don't have the time (or energy) to write up information about it... but Adam did a great job here, and here is the official site which leads you to an even MORE official site.

Now back to more browser play!

My Boomerang Won't Come Back

When I was a young pup my mother would bring me music. It was always out of the blue and never after a request from me. Her choices were interesting and varied. After she went to see the play, I got the soundtrack for "Fiddler on the Roof", and once for Halloween I got K-Tel's "Monster Mash". But the LP that probably got the most play in my 5-10 years was K-Tel's "Looney Tunes".

Yes, the ubiquitous "As Seen on TV" K-Tel (Wiki), the company famous for putting together LP's with the best music they could license... well, after cutting the songs down that is. Any song longer than 3 minutes suddenly fell under the "To ensure the best quality reproduction, the running times of some of the tracks, as originally released, have been changed" situation.

But that didn't matter to me! Just like every other kid who can listen to or watch some sort of media about 100 times in rapid succession without tiring of it, I had that thing on automatic replay. It had songs like "Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah" (Wiki / You Tube) and "They're Coming to Take Me Away" (Wiki / YouTube) which made me laugh like a crazy person. To me "The Streak" (Wiki / You Tube) was scandalous, and "Tiptoe Thu the Tulips" (Wiki / You Tube) was probably my first exposure to a man doing something inherently gay.

In many ways I'm sure these songs defined my life, "Transfusion" (You Tube) gave me life lessons about driving too fast although it hasn't stopped me, "Rubber Duckie" (Wiki / You Tube) taught me how to take a bath, and "Shaving Cream" (You Tube) taught me how to avoid saying a bad word in mixed company and come up with a new one that makes no sense.

But the one that is on an endless loop in my head is "My Boomerang Won't Come Back" (You Tube). All of this started just a few months ago when we were visiting a HUGE American-styled sports store in France named Decathlon. OMG! They had a selection of boomerangs... and I took the opportunity to buy one... AN X-Fly!

Periodically throughout our drive back home I would be reminded of the boomerang lying in wait in the back of the car and be inspired to break out in song, "My Boomerang Won't Come Back!".

After about the fifth outbreak, N. cocked her head to the side and fell right into my trap, "Your boomerang won't come back"?

In answer, I burst into song:
My boomerang won't come back,
My boomerang won't come back,
I've waved the thing all over the place,
Practiced till I was black in the face,
I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

Wow... I am such a kid!
Although N. looked at me like like I was crazy I think she's become accustomed to my occasional outbursts.

This is a video made by an Aussie in honor of the song.
Lyrics below the rest of the text.


Finally this last Sunday the timing was right.
I'd done my research on the web (because that's the way I roll), it looks easy. I should be able to do this, right? um... no.

We were at the Britzer Garten, in the early morning, giving me the first of the requirements - a large outdoor location without people around - which I assume is as much for their safety as it is my ego. The second requirement in the instructions was for there to be no wind, and the last was for me to have all of these elements come together when I actually had the time to be outside!

The sun was just peeking over the trees, the dew was heavy on the grass, the air clean cool and fresh... ah, what else could one want? Hmm... maybe for the boomerang to come BACK! Yup, I threw it all over the place, I tried every possible configuration, just to watch it sail up into the air, do a flip flop and eventually land 30 yards away from me. Oh I would stand in wait for it... expectedly looking for it to sail right back into my hands like it does in the videos... but NO. Sometimes it would get a good spin on it and start back towards me, but it would lose momentum before making it the whole way back. I have decided to believe that the loss of momentum is because the thing was simply wet! Yes, the dew was having an effect on my cute little boomerang! It wasn't an execution flaw, it was a Mother Nature flaw. NO WONDER IT WOULDN'T COME BACK!

After a few attempts I pulled out the instructions to see if I was doing it right. (yup, I'm that kid... I actually read the instructions... well, at least AFTER my first attempts aren't working) After reading and working through five sentences I was supposed to be able to throw it and have it come back at me. Then I got down to the last sentence which states, "If the attempt is unsuccessful, go back and read the instructions". Lovely. Oh well. As we walked back to the car N. asked me if I was going to keep it to try it again or if I was going to throw it away completely... No hesitation here, I said that I would keep it and try again. I mean, how else can I connect with my inner kid and have a reason for endlessly singing the chorus of the silly song?

Performer: Charlie Drake - 1961
Title: My boomerang won't come back
Lyrics

(Oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka)

In the bad backlands of Australia
Many years ago,
The aborigine tribes were meeting,
Having a big pow-wow.

(Oom-yacka-wurka, oom-yacka-wurka)

'We got a lot of trouble, Chief,
On account of your son Mack.'
'My boy Mack? Why, what's wrong with him?'
DRAKE: My boomerang won't come back.
'Your boomerang won't come back?'

DRAKE: My boomerang won't come back,
My boomerang won't come back,
I've waved the thing all over the place,
Practised till I was black in the face,
I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

DRAKE: I can ride a kangaroo (yeah yeah)
Make kinkajou stew (yeah yeah)
But I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

They banished him from the tribe then
And sent him on his way,
He had a backless boomerang
So here he could not stay.

(Animal noises)

DRAKE: [Spoken] This is nice, innit? Getting banished at my time of
life. What a way to spend an evening: sitting on a rock in the middle
of the desert with me boomerang in me hand. I shall very likely get
bushwhacked.

(An animal roars; Drake shrieks back.)

DRAKE: Get out of it! You nasty bushwhacking animal. Think I'll make
a nice cup of tea. (Doi-ng, doi-ng, doi-ng...) Good gracious! There goes
a kangaroo. I must have a practice with me boomerang: hit him right
behind the left earhole. Now then, slowly back.

Gruff voice: If you throw that thing at me, I'll jump right on your
head. (It chuckles like Popeye and bounces away.)

DRAKE: Innit marvellous? Got a land full of kangaroos and I had to
pick that one.

For three long months he sat there
Or maybe it was four,
Then an old old man in a kangaroo skin
Came a-knocking at his door.

'Well, I'm the local witch doctor, son,
They call me George Alfred Black.
Now tell me, what's your trouble, boy?'
DRAKE: My boomerang won't come back.
'Your boomerang won't come back?'

DRAKE: My boomerang won't come back,
My boomerang won't come back,
I've waved the thing all over the place,
Practiced till I was black in the face,
I'm a big disgrace to the Aborigine race,
My boomerang won't come back.

'Don't worry, boy, I know the trick,
And to you I'm gonna show it.
If you want your boomerang to come back,
Well first you've got to... throw it.'

DRAKE: Ooh, yes! Never thought of that. Daddy will be pleased. Must
have a go, nyuh-huh! Excuse me. Now then, slowly back... and throw.

(Boomerang whizzes away; Sounds of a plane approaching and then
falling from the sky.)

DRAKE: Ooh my God! I've hit the flying doctor. Eee-hee-hee! Can you
do first aid?
Witch Doctor: Don't talk to me about first aid, boy, you owe me
fourteen chickens, you know, when I learned you to throw the
boomerang, you know, first things first.
DRAKE: Yes, I know that, but I mean, I think on this occasion, you
know, you could be a bit more perspective...........