Claire Connelly’s article last week reflects the perception that a lot of Australians have about not only Qantas but with the Airline Industry itself.

Exaggerated reporting as well as, to be frank, biased &  sensational headlines, only serve to fan the fire on an issue we need not lose sleep over.

I feel that Australia and its media needs to:

1. Get out of the small pond and look outside its borders to the reality of the Commercial Aviation business.

2. Start to drop the underlying superiority complex in “Australia Maintenance is the best and every other country is dodgy” mentality.

It is unwarranted, unjust and ignorant to suggest that offshore maintenance is the source of Qantas’ issues. It is simply the easiest issue for the media and others to point the finger at.

Looking through the fog of invested interests:

Fact: 92% of Qantas Maintenance is done onshore.

Fact: QF6, the 747 that had engine issues flying the same route out of Changi (the day after the A380 incident) was maintained solely in Avalon, Australia.

Fact: Rolls Royce (one of two engine manufacturers for the A380) has taken blame for its Trent 900 engine failure on a faulty component. This fault has been found on Lufthansa and Singapore Airlines as well. The language suggests the issue was not picked up for the component is not part of the service process that engineers are trained to conduct.

It is the Unions and Associations job and their number one interest to secure work for those they represent. Have we ever known of any union or workers association to say “Oh sure, it’s fine to give the work to others”?

Of course, the ASU and every other engineers association in the Australian Aviation Industry will point the finger to offshore and say to the effect “Well, they wouldn’t have these issues if ALL the maintenance was done in Australia.”

Maintenance:

Let’s put some things in perspective. Aircraft maintenance is conducted on hours of aircraft operation. Qantas is, usually and unintentionally, the test mule for longevity in the industry. Why? Qantas fly their international fleet longer and further per leg than any other carrier, simply due to Australia’s placement on this planet. Just like your car with its mileage, component wear and failure will happen sooner if the kilometres are acquired faster.

Maintenance is conducted by the airlines own staff and aircraft maintenance contractors like John Holland Aviation Services, which is a multi-billion dollar, multinational corporation. The engineers at these services are extremely well trained and require major certifications just to be let near the aircraft. There are a few companies like this and they are based at every major airport and city around the world to be at the disposal of airlines.

Maybe the maintenance does go to the cheapest bidder, I will have to take the Associations word for that, but it is certainly not going to get “Joe the Farmer” because he has his own tools and rode in a plane once.

These companies abide by industry and manufacturer standards and their engineers must be certified for the components they work on.

Offshore vs. Onshore Maintenance:

The reality is that International Airlines are running their business globally and therefore have facilities available to them at every major airport they go to.

QF6 747 had an engine issue and had to land in Changi, Singapore. Where will they fix this engine? Should we require the pilots to fly on three engines back to Avalon, VIC just to make sure the plane is maintained in Australia?

Should aircrafts not be checked and maintained as necessary at every stop? After a plane lands, pilots are required to note every issue they had, any quibble they noticed, no matter how big or small with the aircraft they have just flown. This report is handed to the engineers at that airport to test and rectify if required. Are the Australian media and public suggesting that we shall leave this process until the plane lands in Australia?

Airlines already do the majority of maintenance in their home country. It only makes sense for them to support their native country as much as possible. After reading the above, I think 92% of Qantas maintenance done in Australia should be applauded.

Pushing the Envelope of Design vs. Safety:

Firstly, it is normal for planes, let alone ANY mechanical item to have faults found when they are put to use, let alone extensive use. The longevity of a part is put to the test over time.

The Rolls Royce Trent 900 series is at the forefront of commercial jet design to cater to its passenger’s demands on noise, fuel efficiency and emissions. These engines are computer controlled and have numerous software programs that shut the engine down after multiple warnings to the pilots, if certain components operate outside of specification.

For all of human history we have been furthering ourselves and our technology to advance ourselves.

We are only human, and so are our engineers. We naturally push the envelope to cater to the planets demands, therefore, shit happens sometimes. We can’t have our cake and eat it too.

Wolfgang vs. Ismay vs. Billy-Bob vs. Bruce

Let’s ask ourselves, why do we have the tendency to racially profile work standards?

In a global economy we have things such as processes, standards, certifications that are applied on a company and manufacturer level.

Why do we continually suggest that the engineers (that are required to have these standards and certifications in order to work on the aircraft) are less capable than us, simply because they are not Australian?

In my experience you can have as much training and as much certification and documented process as you want, but it is always down to the individual. It is not because of their race, not because of the country they live in.

Considering the above, the glaringly obvious question in relation to foreign aircraft engineers must be asked:

If offshore aircraft maintenance is the issue, then why is Qantas, which has most of its maintenance conducted in Australia the one having many publicised issues and not Singapore Airlines, Lufthansa that also has maintenance conducted in their native countries?

From what is being suggested, the workers in those countries are the cause of our problems.

Australia, we must stop pointing elsewhere and take a good hard look at ourselves.

We once again, must realise that we cannot have our cake and eat it too.

Hundreds of thousands of Americans are planning to boycott the implantation of full body scanners (which have been linked to cancer by medical experts) tomorrow (Nov 24) on Thanksgiving – one of the busiest travel periods – by choosing a physical search.

As if flying weren’t a stressful enough experience as it is, between invasive security procedures, the fear of cancer and the ever increasing collection of Qantas “incidences”, it’s a wonder anybody wants to fly anymore.

In a bid to maximise profit and minimise expenditure, Qantas have outsourced their maintenance to countries such as Singapore and Germany. Now when I fly to the States, I not only have to worry about a security guard checking out my goodies, I also need to keep my fingers crossed that I make it home alive.

Steve Purvinas of the Australian Licensed Aircraft Engineers Association revealed that unlike in Australia, overseas contractors bid for the work, and Qantas goes with the engineers that charge the cheapest rates. Moreover, Pervinas also says that the ratio of overseas licensed engineers to unlicensed engineers is about 40 to two – making it impossible for licensed aircraft engineers to properly check all the maintenance work that is being done.

I can’t help but think that if airlines were channeling as much money into engineering as American airports are channeling into security, I’m sure flying would be a much less stressful experience. (And Qantas’s reputation would remain untarnished).

We have already seen the danger signs.

This month alone has seen seven Qantas safety incidences including engine problems, ruptured turbines and electrical failures.

And the Australian Licensed Aircraft Engineers Association have already gone on record saying that the companies safety record has suffered as a result of outsourcing.

Last week it was found that the QF32 passengers are lucky to be alive – it was revealed that the A380 narrowly avoided a mid-air explosion after a stray piece of shrapnel destroyed the flight control systems, severed fuel lines, damaging a drive motor and blowing a rather large hole in the wing.

Not exactly inspiring stuff. It’s enough to make even the most experienced flyer think twice, let alone the increasing number of people who harbour fears of flying.

Can you blame them?

The travel industry has suffered terribly since 9/11, at a time when things are already bad, the last thing airlines should be doing is skimping on maintenance.

If mounting public pressure isn’t enough of a motivation for Qantas to bring their maintenance back on-shore, then maybe dwindling ticket sales might make them change their minds.

Australia (and the world) should vote with their feet and opt-out of offshore maintenance.

On the surface, I can understand how this statistic may be alarming, but it leaves out two crucial facts.

1) The 6310 people mentioned in the first part of the article are only the people that arrived here by boat.

The majority of illegal immigrants in Australia are the 50 000 illegals that arrived here mainly by plane, and mainly from the UK, (according to the Australian Parliament Library).

“Boat people” make up roughly 12% of that figure.

2) The rest of the 6235 asylum seekers were found to be legitimate refugees according to the UN Refugee Convention (yes, that tricky little document that causes all sorts of annoyance for our government), and Australia’s immigration laws.

I thought the government (and Australia) would be relieved that only 1.18 per cent of asylum seekers are found to have fraudulent claims, (destroying the myth of those dodgy illegal immigrants stealing our jobs and clogging up the queues at Centrelink simultaneously).

Much further down in the article (in the part seldom reached by most people), the article explained that 5105 of the 5646 asylum seekers that arrived here by plane last year were also found to be legitimate refugees.

But once again the statistic was spun and twisted, explaining that the government had sent home “only 541 applicants regarded as illegal entries”.

Even the language is insulting – “regarded as illegal entries”, like some schmo at Border Protection looked at them and said “alright, you look skinny enough, you can stay”, completely ignoring that we have strict guidelines for processing asylum seekers, and the long, arduous, complicated task of processing them to begin with.

Articles such as these reflect the massive chasm between policy, and rhetoric.

Fear mongering articles like this, laced with liberal rhetoric plays on the fears of citizens thoroughly polled and tested to appeal to their exaggerated, irrational, yet easily manipulated paranoia in order to win elections.

Here’s one of the worst kept secrets in Canberra:

The truth is, if the government really wanted tighter immigration laws – they could change laws to create them.

They could rescind from the UN Convention and live by old Johnny’s slogan of “we will decide who comes to this country and the spirit in which they come” – or whatever similar bigoted nonsense he spruiked back in the day.

Even if Tony Abbott had become PM, not an awful lot would have changed unless he was prepared to change the law – which in the current tedious political atmosphere would be unlikely.

And so before we even had time to process what all this really meant, this manipulated statistic made it round the internet, even repeated on twitter by respected journalists such as Mia Freedman.

It really makes my blood boil.

The sole purpose of the “refugee myth” is to associate a false sense of security with the candidate who appears to have the tightest control over our borders.

Never mind that people who arrive here by boat make up less than 1% of the “illegal immigration problem”, if you can even call it a problem.

According to the Australian Parliamentary Library,  “the vast majority of asylum seekers arrive originally by air (96% – 99%). Boat arrivals only make up a small proportion of applicants.”

The irony, once again – is rife.

Moreover, in comparison to other countries, Australia’s “refugee problem” is minuscule.

In 2009 Australia received 6,170  asylum applications while  in the US it was 49,020, France 41,980, Canada 33,250, UK 29,840 and Germany 27,650.

By the end of 2008, there were 42 million recorded forcibly displaced persons worldwide, including 15 million refugees.

Australia’s “influx” represents 4.11 per cent of that figure.

Yet all this still doesn’t address the fundamental issue of why Australia’s refugee policies are, for the most part humane (if you leave out that bit about asylum seekers sitting in detention centres for up to 10 years waiting to be processed… and the exclusion, and bigotry they experience from the community once they are granted protection visas), why the government continues to perpetuate such a publicly inhumane attitude towards asylum seekers.

For this, I really have no answer, and the only “rational” excuse I can come up with is that it’s easier to win elections by creating a common enemy.

I don’t know whether to be reassured by the fact that Australia is actually granting the majority of  asylum seekers refugee status, or ashamed that our government’s spiteful rhetoric is designed to conceal this fact.

I also don’t understand why both sides of our government continue to equate “illegal immigrants” with “Muslim terrorists”, when the majority of illegal immigrants are overstayers, (comprised of about 50 000 people) mostly from the UK.

Australia has a large, thriving community of Muslim citizens (ahhh, yes that small but crucial word – citizen), and yet both sides of the government still seek to marginalize one of Australia’s largest cultural communities.

Aside from the obvious racism, I also find it utterly moronic.

Surely there are votes to be had here?

Any logical politician seeking to win an election would surely want to take as many demographics under their wing as possible (yes, even Muslims).

Votes don’t discriminate.

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After a long, cold winter – I am finally back in the land of the living.

Yes, the rumors are true. After many long, arduous months of “negotiating” with insurance companies – they have finally replaced my iPhone.

It all started, one fateful night in New York, where my fellow journalist friend Sean and I were doing what we do best – getting on the beers and composing what we thought was going to be a piece of writing comparable only to Pulitzer himself.

It was tough, but despite the many tequilas, blurred vision, and jittery text-hands (not to mention the many, many other alcoholic beverages that we were forced to consume by The Establishment), we pushed on through. Writers in arms, we managed to keep track of every single song that the venue played that night, with the intention of blowing the proverbial minds of our readers the following afternoon (when we awoke from our stupors) with the boastful tones of the most impressive playlist that has ever been broadcast across the radio-waves.

This playlist was GOLD! It was sent from the iPod heavens, delivered upon the mountain by Jobs himself.

There was not a single doozy played the entire night.

Honestly, my ears were radiant, glowing even, after receiving such audible pleasure!

Honesty, I thought I had experienced an eargasm before – I was wrong!

It. Was. FANTASTIC!

But, alas, as has so frequently been the fate of writers past, pure genius was toppled by its masters, and by masters plural, I mean, well – me.

It was barely my fault though! Geniuses need their rest after a heavy writing session! And having rested my eyes for just a few minutes while I was escorted back to my chambers, I may have, kind of, sort of, accidentally misplaced my iPhone… a sin for which Steve Jobs has punished me ten fold.

He sent his insurance prophets (get it, insurance prophets?), to test my loyalty.

Would I give in? Give up? Would I really have to resort to using a medieval Nokia? Would I be forced to grow callouses on my fingertips from using buttons? Would I submit to bleeding ears from the high pitch mono ringtone?

Never.

Oh the shame!

Night after night I wailed, not just for the loss of my life-partner, but for the playlist not published, status not updated, the review not written, the mix-tape not remembered!

For months we were parted, iPhone and I, the evil insurance companies were conspiring to keep us star-crossed fan-girls apart.

I won’t burden you with the details, but lets just say that despite the copious sums of money invested in travel insurance, my insurance company got off on a technicality (of course) and refused to cover me. And the second form of insurance I thought I had didn’t exist due to an administrative error. Go figure.

But despite the pain, the heart-ache, and social ostracism, my faith has been proven. After many angry phone calls, witty letters, and months and months of heart-ache, my iPhone and I have been reunited.

My place in the Apple Nirvana has been restored.

I am not being hyperbolic when I say that tearing apart its packaging like lovers on their wedding night was an almost religious experience.

I feel whole again, like a part of me that was missing for what felt like an eternity has been restored.

Now if you’ll please excuse me, my true love is beckoning. We’ve been apart for so many months, and I have to make up for lost time, if you know what I mean… She just loves it when I slide my finger over it’s smooth, warm screen and… well, that’s a blog for another time.

Anyhow, I must be off, things to do, so many tweets to twat.

Don’t knock, I’ll come up for air eventually.

Your fellow Jobsian, (once again),

Claire.

Apparently Aboriginals weren’t considered endangered enough to be considered for the role.

Somehow they thought that an endangered shrimp that nobody has heard of was more relatable.

I am never again shopping in Australia. Purely online only.

I LOVE LA and I don’t know why it has such a bad reputation with Australians.

It definitely helps to know someone, having the social hook-up makes things a lot easier when you are in LA and I can understand why people find it overwhelming and hostile. It’s difficult to meet people in the states, especially if you’re a guy.

HOWEVER, the people in LA were the friendliest I’ve met in any city so I don’t know what everyone is complaining about.

The weather is awesome, there’s heaps to do, great shopping and lots of little niches split up all over the city – much like Sydney. People are finally going green and reducing smog emissions (and increasing smug emissions, South Park anyone?) Seriously folks, what is there to complain about?

Burbank is not the ‘hole’ I was expecting it to be. (Who lied?)

Picture the ‘downtown’ shopping area as the love-child of Hornsby Westfield and Double Bay, and throw in a Killara cousin living on the suburban outskirts. Really nice. Beautiful weather. Lovely shops and restaurants accompany the palm tree lined streets.

Cool stuff I did in LA that I haven’t been bothered to write about:

- Attended a party in a Hollywood Hills mansion hosted by a millionaire: My dear friend Farrell, who is slowly but surely taking over the Hollywood Film Industry generously invited me to attend a party hosted by the Bartenders Guild.

They basically get an alcohol company to sponsor the party, threw on some wicked Mexican food and lounge music, and invite the who’s who of Hollywood.

The weather was HOT, real hot.

People mingled around the pool, searching for patches of shade, drank, staring longingly at the pool, generally enjoying each others company in the late afternoon of one of the most perfect days of summer.

I was disappointed that the people there weren’t more obnoxious – it would have made for a better story: bitching about unprecedented wealth and the kids who exploit it, but unfortunately, they were just too damn nice!

- Met Hollywood film financier Justin Browne: Again, Farrel had the hook up – this dude is connected!

Justin was nice enough, perhaps slightly more obnoxious than the mansion dwellers, but again – just too nice to write about.

Any people interested in trying to get a script looked at?

This is your guy.

- Visited the crazies at Chinese Theatre: Met Jesus. He’s a lot older than I envisioned. Stay tuned for pictures of random costumed characters with their back to me.

- Cruised Melrose: I am an effing rock star.

- Swung by Hustler Headquarters: You could practically here the screams down the block.

- Hung out with Roxanne!!!!! The reasons surrounding Roxanne’s impromptu visit to the states are unfortunate, but I’m really glad that she is the last person I hung out with in the states before heading home.

We took lunch in Burbank, sipped cocktails, and did some last minute shopping at Urban Outfitters where we bought awesome MATCHING HATS!

We’ll be rockin’ the summer fashions long before it hits Sydney’s shores!

The weather in LA varies significantly depending upon where you are.

It’s insane.

The temperature up in the hills can be between 10-20 degrees higher than the rest of LA, and Santa Monica can get 10-20 degrees lower than the rest of LA.

Oh, and by the way – that haze that accumulates above LA in the morning is not, as you claim , “cloud cover”.

Clouds do not “burn off” by mid-morning.

Clouds don’t burn for that matter.

It either rains, (winds might redirect them somewhat), but mostly they linger and accumulate until it storms.

The haze you are referring to is what we in the rest of the world calls “smog.”

Anyway… Claire’s Amazing American Adventure was one of the most difficult, and rewarding trips I have ever taken.

Though I was plagued by homesickness a lot of the time, I am really glad I came here.

I learned a lot about myself and I had an absolute blast.

I’ll miss you guys so much but I’ll definitely be back.

In the mean time, start putting your money away:

Vegas 2010 anyone?!

I’ve had some incredible times, and some difficult ones.

It’s been a wild ride and one I have thoroughly enjoyed.

Below are some observations from my travels, or just collections of tid bits I’ve been meaning to right down. They don’t take much shape or form, follow any narrative structure, or possess a consistent tone, but they’re my memories and I like them just as they are thank you!

Here goes:

American girls talk as though they are their own binding authority on whatever is coming out of their mouths. They speak as though they are their very own opinion editorial.

People are friendlier on the west coast.

I’ve been here for five weeks, and I still have no idea who I should and should-not be tipping.

Am I the only one that finds the brand “Jiffy Lube” amusing? I mean – when does one NOT need lube in a jiffy?

I like my parents. I know that sounds cheesy, but for someone who has actively resisted the company of my parents in the past, something about Minneapolis and Michigan stirred me. It’s easy to love your parents, that’s pretty much a requisite, but to like them, I think is better. I resolve to be a better daughter from now on, especially to my dad.

It’s true that LA girls don’t eat, and LA guys really do pay too much attention to the plates of their female counter parts. I’ve never felt fatter than in the company of the film financiers that I have yet to write about.

The toilets really do flush in the opposite direction.

And that’s another thing – Americans use WAY too much water to flush with. I really cannot comprehend that anything could be large enough to require that much water to remove it from the bowl.

Australians and Americans are not at all similar.

Despite the fact that Australia was founded by a bunch of English and Irish criminals, Australians have somehow carved out a reputation of themselves with Americans, as trustworthy and reliable. Even more bizarre – this (probable) misconception is linked with the whole ‘easy-going’ aspect of our culture. True to form, I did not swipe the Faberge egg or any other valuable objects I spied in the Hollywood Hills mansion (another thing I have yet to write about). I swear.

Hunter S Thompson is God.

Australia makes terrible pizza. Terrible. Awful. It’s a crime really. New York slice all the way.

Americans have the most non-sensical (and non-existent) traffic ‘etiquette’.

Nobody indicates, and everybody beeps.

They just flick out into whichever lane takes their fancy at full speed, without warning. And yet – everybody blares their horns at one another. Not only is this hypocritical, it achieves absolutely nothing.

In Australia we have only three situations that call for a good beeping:

1. The “I’m not sure if you have seen me” beep: This polite, short (and barely audible) beep is usually reserved for people backing out of their driveways. The almost embarrassed blip is designed to say “I just want you to know I’m here so maybe stop reversing now.”

2. The “I’M ABOUT TO CRASH INTO YOU!” horn: This one is really meant to notify everyone on the road except the guy you’re about to crash in to, a last-minute attempt to reduce any collatoral damage.

3. The “YOU are a F&*$ing IDIOT” horn: “Yes. Yes You. YOU are a F*%(ING IDIOT.” This one is rare. You’ve got to be careful how you use it. You can’t use up your horn-blaring priveleges all at once. For example, don’t play one of your Idiot Cards on a Monday morning in peak-hour traffic. Because by friday you’ll be doing it every day and then you’re just as much an asshole as the guy you’re beeping at. That being said, when this horn is sounded – they effing deserve it.

I suspect that Americans would reduce the need to let-a-rip with the car horn less often, if they all learned how to indicate. Just a thought.

Sydney cyclists put American bicyclists to shame.

Seriously, I will never again complain about Sydney cyclists.

American cyclists have somehow gotten the idea that road rules do not apply to them.

Traffic lights? I’m not in a car, I don’t need to stop at the lights.

Pavement with a bike lane? Why use it when I could share the already congested roads with motorists?

Don’t even bother asking about pedestrian crossings.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve had my life flash before my eyes whilst traversing the zebra stripes. They don’t slow down, they don’t swerve, they don’t even *ting* their little bells (which you can’t hear above the noise of all those blaring car horns anyway). They just gun it right through and hope to God they don’t get flung over the handle-bars as they crash into an “inconsiderate pedestrian” who wasn’t expecting that speed-racing cyclist racing right towards them at impeccable speed given the big-ass sign telling them that is was ok to walk and thus everyone else on the road can take a seat for a second.

Seriously people, get some road etiquette. You sicken me.

Minneapolis is totally underated and one of the few places yet to be gentrified; (lord knows why, property developers would make a killing. It may have something to do with the crippling winters….)

This is why you’re fat: A collection of disgusting food found in ‘fancy’ American restaurants:

- Cheeseburger spring rolls.
- Deep friend cheeseburger spring rolls.
- Georgio’s salty meat balls (*giggle*, *smirk*).
- Deep fried mars-bar.
- A bucket of deep fried chicken (I swear to god that’s exactly how it was written on the menu).
- Twice fried waffled with bacon, maple syrup, and glaze.
- Smores (Yeah, don’t really get the whole smores thing. I love a good roasted marshmallow on the fire, complete with carcinogens – but smores?).
- Duck, wrapped in bacon, deep fried, served with maple syrup.
- and P.S What is it with Americans and maple syrup? They put it on frigging everything.

That’s it for now. Not very deep I know. I’m sure there’s deeper material in me somewhere but it’s early still and I’m hanging out for some awesome room-service and champagne. Just wait until the hangover sets in, then we’ll get some serious melancholic rambling.

For now I’ll say – it’s been great.

Thanks for the ride, it’s been an awesome journey.

I really should have written about Chicago and Michigan sooner but a fuse has blown in my brain and I have found myself almost incapable of writing during the past few weeks. I have been neglecting my literary responsibilities and now of course, I am struggling to maintain coherency.

If you’re looking for eloquence you’ve come to the wrong place today I am afraid. Come back later.

Chicago was lovely, and I was glad to have been able to experience it through the eyes of a local, rather than a tourist, so to anyone who asks me about Chicago, NO – I did not visit the Millenium Park or the Buckingham fountain, or any other tourist attraction that Chicago has to offer.

I did however visit Star Lounge, The Map Room, and Whole Foods, three experiences that won’t easily be forgotten.

I LOVE Whole Foods.

It is truly the awesomest place on earth. (Give me a break, I live in an area deprived of fresh produce, let alone organic).

At a basic level, Whole Foods is a supermarket. But it’s so much more than that! The isles are long and wide, brimming with quality products just waiting to be devoured. There’s a massues upstairs, lounges, and internet access. There’s a balcony, and beer garden. There’s Lots and Lots of Cheese.

Andrew and I spent a decent amount of time conversing with Paul The Cheese Guy in order to make the right selection of cheeses to go with our wine tasting.

That’s right kids – WINE TASTING! AT WHOLE FOODS!

Conversation with Paul The Cheese Guy was outranked only by Steve The Wine Guy at the Whole Foods wine bar – THAT’S CORRECT FOLKS! A WINE BAR!

We ate cheese and drank wine and exchanged witty conversation (and laughed and laughed) and I must say it was more than rather pleasant.

Star Lounge and The Map Room are lovely (if not somewhat hipster-friendly) cafe-bars in Chicago.

I would usually cringe at places like this in Sydney, not for its decor but for its usually trendy but hostile hipster patrons and staff. Thankfully this wasn’t the case.

The staff looked as though they were enjoying themselves as much as the customers. People spoke to eachother, and the staff pretty much just hung out with the patrons, sipping coffee, playing music. It was a completely ambient experience, complete with a random argument as to whether Conan O’Brien deserves a punch in the mouth before being stripped of his Tonight Show hosting duties. (All in favour, say Ay – AY!)

*Sigh*, those were better times, back then – *tear*.

I traveled north to Lake Michigan for four days, staying with Andrew and Brian at their family’s 145 year old beach house.

The place was erected in 1866 and it still has all of it’s original structure and fittings.

No phone, no mobile reception, no internet. I have never seen one house hold so much history in it at one time and when I get my USB back from DAVE – (hintedy-Mchint-hint), I will post the photos to prove it!

Lake Michigan is EPIC! We enjoyed more than a few coronas and cut up the vast body of water in Hugh’s equally epic speed-boat.

Hugh, by the way, is Andrew and Brian’s eccentric Michigan neighbour, alike in both appearance and personality to famous Gonzo journalist Hunter S Thomson (RIP).

He is also my new Hero.

Though while Thomspon was known for his love of fast cars and artillery, Hugh gets his kicks from speed-boat driving across the Michigan lakes.

Compensating for his fear-of-flying, Hugh has taken to the seas (err, or lakes). He did not disappoint in his reputation for speed – we got up to about fifty-five kilometers an hour on Lake Michigan, driving like a madman across the vast body of water.

Land-bound from a traumatic air-plane accident, Hugh gave up his prestigious career as a psycho-analyst, immersing himself in Hollywood’s film and music industry.

He has worked with the likes of Sam Remi and Steven Spielberg (though I’m not sure how much I am allowed to disclose about this. If/when I receive permission from the author, I will write more about Hugh’s screen-writing achievements).

Onwards -

We ate good food, talked, sailed, explored the massive sand dunes and I all but completed Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail. (Way more focused than Las Vegas, I highly recommend this book to any uninspired politics buffs that are looking for something completely different. The observations are made even more interesting and relevant if read in the context of the recent US elections).

Darn these tangents, I am completely unable to focus.

Needless to say every path crossed in Chicago was a magnificent experience and I am hoping to gather them all together in the one place again one day, but next time in Australia (That would certainly be convenient for me. See how I can be accommodating and lazy all at the same time?)

You can skip the next few paragraphs if you wish, while I get a little informal:

Shout outs:

Holla to Nikki (and Karen), thanks for letting us stay at your place. I appreciated the groovy aesthetic you had going on. I may have left you an unopened box of Australian dental floss in your bathroom cabinet – I doubt that anyone’s given you dental floss before, so in that way I feel unique. I know, I know, I’m a truly giving person. That’s how we roll in Australia.

Also giving quick a shout-out to Mike and Hank: Mike, thanks for entertaining me and lending me your apartment during my first night in Chicago, while we awaited the sailor’s return to shore. Hank – thank’s for Quincy .

Finally – thanks to Andrew (obviously) for showing me around, and thanks to Brian for driving, backing the boat into the water, cooking, cleaning, removing splinters, and generally ensuring that we ate whilst up in Michigan.

Damnit woman, try to focus!

I am now in Santa Monica, though I don’t have much to say about it other than it’s pretty and the beach is cool. I’ve only been here for a day and I spent much of it hungover so yeah, aim low your expectations for this installment – just a warning.

I am staying right near “Muscles Beach”, the birthplace of US fitness and body building scene that soon swept the globe in the late 1930s. It’s filled to the brim by beef-heads, weirdos and exhibitionists performing all kinds of weird acrobatics on the outdoor fitness equipment that once used to attract massive audiences pointing and staring at the over-sized freak-shows and their rippling steroid filled biceps.

Apparently the owners of Ocean Pier were most disgusted by this display to the point that during the 1960’s they would have preferred to turn the whole damn lot into a car park than deal with the brimming tourism that was generated by these sideshows.

“I know we don’t have any customers, but I thought that was a bad thing!”

Commy-bastards. Go figure.

I am spoiling myself in the knowledge that my days here are limited. The Viceroy is a block from the beach and while I can’t afford to eat here, the weekend DJ and pool area are more than enough reason to stay here. Seriously, this place is magnificent and I’m fairly sure an episode from The Hills was filmed here.

So, my lazy days are numbered now. Not long before I head home to the Wonderful Land of Oz.

Thus, tomorrow will be spent in much the same way as today, lounging by the pool, sipping cocktails.

Hey, it’s a hard life, but sombody’s got to do it.
An Irritating Truth ]]> http://socialscapegoat.com/after-the-girls-of-summer-have-gone/feed/ 2 http://socialscapegoat.com/hooters/ http://socialscapegoat.com/hooters/#comments Thu, 23 Jul 2009 00:17:00 +0000 Claire Connelly http://socialscapegoat.com/?p=150 There’s a Hooters right by my hotel! (There is a god!)

(I guess Wikipedia was right, the Oregan constitution has ensured that boobies will be no more than fifty feet away at any given time).

Isn’t free speech great!

Well, I guess you know where to find me tonight!

Sleeping is going to be fun tonight. I guess I’m going to have to try the side-snuggle as there’s a only a good two-inches of skin each side that aren’t completely sunburned.

Even my hands hurt – it’s painful to type.

I am my own worst enemy.

Well – this will put a significant kink in my plans to sit by the pool and read for the next three days.

Somehow, I deserve this.