Letter in The Age, Thursday 29/11/2001.
I feel a bit stuffed. Last night I was over at Josh’s place, watching the first double episode of the new Star Trek – Enterprise – The Generation After Voyager, over a few beers.
Before we got started, there was also a side-splitting conversation with Josh’s mate Pete, about a new industry we invented: dirt farming. Topics included dirt farms ("that’s the beautiful thing about dirt. No problem with droughts"), dirt farmers ("I’ve been a dirt farmer all my life. My father farmed dirt, and his father before him"), the export of dirt ("Australia exports the finest dirt to the world!") and the current state of world dirt markets.
Anyway, after I got home, had a long phone call with a friend, and went to bed zonked, I had trouble sleeping. Not sure quite what it was, though my bloody neighbours leaving the gate open downstairs (the one that bangs loudly whenever there’s the remotest gust of wind) didn’t help.
Umm, that is, the gate bangs loudly whenever there’s the remotest gust of wind. Not the neighbour.
Tonight, after playing a few George Harrison songs loudly, I finally watched the Star Wars Phantom Menace DVD I bought last month. Great stuff, quite spectacular. But it’s the kind of movie that emphasises how small my 48 cm TV is. Thank goodness I was able to use the DVD player’s Zoom function to see it a bit better, though no doubt any movie purists reading are tut-tutting right now and mumbling about aspect ratios.