Things You Learn At A Quiz Night: 2009 version

As I've mentioned before, my Bestie runs a charity. Last year the quiz night was a great success and lots of fun but we only came 4th. THIS year we had Himself, AFM and Dr O'C , Kindergarten Friend and his beautiful partner The Railway Girl, The Bestie's Mum and Dad and The Gay American (yes, he does have a name but several times at the Quiz Night the MC (Mumford) referred to him as The Gay American and so he shall be). The Baby Angel and Small Boy also added their expertise and believe me there were times we needed it! The net result? SECOND!!!!!!

I am so excited about this because part way through the night we were coming a very sorry middle of the pack indeed!.

So what did I learn THIS time? (Get ready trivia buffs...)

The dingo was the first non-native animal introduced to Australia.

Our Deputy Prime-Minister's partner is a hairdresser!

The four faces on Mt Rushmore are: Lincoln, Washington, Jefferson and Roosevelt (Teddy)
(Thanks AFM and GTA)

The faunal emblem of South Australia is the Hairy Nosed Wombat

There are 5 verses in the Australian National Anthem. (who knew???)
(Thanks TGA)

The first overseas flight of Qantas (Queensland and Northern Territory Air Service) was to Singapore.

The first drive in bottle shop in Australia opened in 1953!!

The No 1 song of the Hottest 100 Hits for 2009 was...The Kings of Leon: Sex on Fire.
(Thanks BA)

Australia has 115 species of venomous snakes.

Tenzin Gyatso is otherwise known as The Delai Lama. (Thanks again TGA)

Our former Prime Minister Paul Keating once managed a rock band known as The Ram Rods.

So, lots of new information there! There were a couple of disputed questions however. To begin with they asked where the three major Australian railways met up and gave the answer as 'Quorn'. Now our table had specified 'Port Augusta' with a fair degree of confidence and, since some of us had lived in Quorn in the past, we (they) were a little surprised at the result.

Bestie's Dad was adamant that the trains had not run into Quorn since 1985 and Railway Girl, who works for said railways, assured us that the National Office for something or other was being built at Port Augusta precisely because all three railway lines met there!!Well apparently we weren't the only table to be surprised and a little skeptical at the answer. So many people disputed the call that there was some quick wireless googling (I assume) and the answer was revised to Port Augusta or Crystal Brook! Apparently there's more than one place where the railways meet today! Good result anyway. One more point for us.

Not so satisfactory was the outcome on the disputed name of the eldest member of The Jacksons! Having been a really saddo fan of the Jackson Five circa 1973, I very quickly supplied the answer to this question. Of course, Jackie was the eldest member of the Jacksons, the others being Jermain, Tito, Marlon and Michael. Our table seemed a little suspicious of my answer. Perhaps 'Jackie' seemed a little too obvious? Regardless; I knew I was right. I mean, a fan is a fan and I had read plenty of those hideous fan magazines which detailed every known fact about each member of the group from their star sign to their favourite colour and shoe size. Jackie it is!

Imagine my surprise, nay horror, as they announced that the eldest member of the Jacksons was Jerome!!!!!!!!! Jerome?????????? Who the f*** is Jerome?????????????

Now I had to admit here that somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that Jackie's real name was not actually Jackie, in the same way that Tito's was actually 'Toriano', but for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was. Maybe it was Jerome? Regardless, he was well known as Jackie and if it came to choosing the correct member of the group I was certain I had done that! Imagine my outrage then when our answer sheet came back marked incorrect!!

Down to the judging table I marched but to no avail. According to the judges 'he now calls himself Jerome' and that was all that mattered. No points baby!! By now my whole table were in mocking mode. 'Jackie' bwahahahah! As IF!!!!!!

You know that white hot knot of fury and injustice that burns when you KNOW you are right and no-one will listen? It's a feeling I remember distinctly from my childhood and the flavour has not improved with age and 'maturity', hem hem.

Back at home I was immediately onto Google. Was my childhood an illusion? Had Jackie Jackson existed only in my age demented imagination??

By the first hit I was exonerated! But we all know that Wikipedia is anything but reliable so I tried a few other sources.....

HA!!!!

Not ONLY was Jackie definitely the oldest member of the Jacksons, but his given name was NOT Jerome...it was Sigmund!!!!!! In fact, Googling Jerome Jackson gave me some little known jazz crooner who had absolutely nothing to do with the famous Jackson Five family!!!!!

Sweet moral high ground.

OK so the extra point would not have made any difference to the final score but at least I was vindicated. You bet I emailed all the links to everyone who was on our table. :-D


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
By the way: A belated happy Birthday shout out to my Bestie's Beloved, Mr Mumford! Was great to see everybody there on Saturday, celebrating you. :-)

image credits

quiz night

indian pacific

jackie jackson

In Which The Bestie 'Does' Her Back and My Inadequacies Are Exposed

Several weeks ago The Bestie asked me if my face painting skills were still alive and kickin'. She had a fund raising event to run and she needed a free face painter to add to the carnival atmosphere of the occasion.

"Er....well, it's been awhile. When is it?"
"Sunday the 19th. You'll have to miss church."

Hmm. This was tricky, after all I am the Kidzone Co-ordinator; I'm rostered on 3-4 times a term and there are just not that many volunteers to swap with.

This was not done by me....

Add to this that its been a long time since I did any face painting and you will start to sense my nervousness over the whole request. But, it was for a great cause and I love to help The Bestie out. Perhaps someone would swap Kidzone with me and perhaps I could get a bit of practice in before the big day? You never know.

Initially it didn't look good. There were no replies to my 'can anyone swap?' email and I regretfully informed The Bestie that I may not be available. She was understandably disappointed but assured me that 'if necessary' she would simply hire a face painter, although they would prefer not to have to eat into the charity proceeds in this manner.

Well, blessing of blessings, one of my lovely friends from church was able to swap weeks with me and, lo and behold, I was suddenly available.
"Ah....," said The Bestie, "The sponsors have actually already found a face painter."
"Oh, um...never mind....perhaps you'll need two?" Having got myself off the roster I was determined to offer what assistance I could.
"Sure!" she enthusiastically agreed. And so the date was set.

In the week or so leading up to the event, I checked my face paint supplies and realised with a sinking stomach that, as I had used a school's make-up kit the last time I had done this, my own supplies were woefully inadequate. Never mind, I reasoned, I could buy a selection of paints and then I would have them for other occasions.

Saturday was to be my shopping day; I also had plans to buy a quilt for the guest room and possibly to scope out some bedside tables at IKEA. A late night text message from The Bestie put all plans on hold.

Might need to ask a favour tomorrow. Have put back out and can't walk.

I don't think I really understood the extent of 'put back out' in that first text message. When I phoned her the following morning, reality bit. Not only could she not walk, she could not drive. She could not lie comfortably in any way and, after lying uncomfortably, she could not get up....
She was in need of some major help.

So our Saturday went like this.
* Visit Bestie and take over Voltarin to ease inflammation. Also rub Voltarin gel into back. Wash dishes for her, refreeze her ice pack and ensure she was sitting quietly with a book in a semi upright position.
* Go to her office and retrieve items for the 'event' in the morning. This involved a gate lock,
a door lock, an alarm and no idea of where to look for said box of items. With the capable
help of the Baby Angel all was achieved.
* Stop by local big name hardware store to buy tubs for holding drinks and ice at Sunday's
event.
* Buy the face paints (a couple extra for Her beloved)
* Pick up her iced coffees and >:-( ...fags [I do not approve].
* Return to pick up prescription left by locum (it's either a torn ligament or a slipped disc.
Fingers crossed for the first option) and get this filled at the chemist.
* Keep Bestie plied with food, drink and painkillers. Wash dishes. Watch 'Spooks'.

And so our Saturday was filled. It was actually very pleasant, being in the mid 30s and having no immediate pressure to be anywhere at a particular time. It was also pleasant just hanging out with the Bestie, even if she was kind of immobile :-)

Whilst there I practiced a bit on The BA and just as well I did! I had forgotten all the designs which used to flow off the brush with such ease back in the UK where my career as a facepainter began. Nevertheless I managed to execute a butterfly, a snake and a tiger before the light and fast diminishing bottles of wine rendered my efforts unrecognisable.

Fast forward 10 hours and we arrived back at the Bestie's house to take her to the event. My first job was to put on her shoes and socks for her! She couldn't bend down y'see. We loaded up the car with face paints, tubs, cash boxes and the like; she manoeuvered herself v-e-e-r-y slowly in through the passenger's side door and we were away. ( You might ask why she was even going out in her condition but that would be a pointless question. The Bestie is The Boss and these things do not run without her :-(

By the time we arrived at the scene of the event, things were beginning to get underway. We propped The Bestie upright and pointed her in the direction of proceedings. Marquees were being erected; T Shirts and hats distributed and donations taken.
Oh, and the face painter had arrived.

Across her eyes was a confection of black and gold deftly painted curlicues with a scattering of glitter and opalescent sheen. She had a double sided sandwich board with examples of her wares emblazoned upon it in full colour. She had a high chair, stool, folding table and the most glorious array of rainbow coloured facepaints imaginable.

I decided right then and there that I would not be face painting today.

Rather at a loss for what to do instead, the BA and I took drinks down to the halfway point of the event and stamped people's hands. We then had a jog up the beach and made it back in time to cart the woe begotten Bestie off home to sit quietly and recover with her drugs.

But I could not leave it at that. To add insult to injury, on our return, the Bestie sported a deft and glittering pink confection across her eyes. Yes, in our absence, through her agony, she had had her face painted!

Back at her place I set up my gear again and, observing her flowery visage, attempted to recreate the delicate and multi coloured petals of the other face painter's design. >:-( I was at it for about an hour. The BA was once more my guinea pig. After about 30 minutes she expressed an impatience with being my model and we left with my own forearm bearing the tattoos of my shame in the form of petals and tiger stripes.

So what do I take from this experience? You tell me. But if anyone needs any free, second rate face painting done, I'm available. >:-D

Friday Night Frolics

You learn a whole lot at a Quiz Night you know? For instance, last night I learned that there are 3 movies which tie for the record of 11 Academy Awards apiece. Do you know what they are? Don't go googling now....just think about it and have a guess. Answers tomorrow.

Also, I learned that Santiago is the capital of Chile, Frodo Baggins was the son of Drogo Baggins (not Bilbo you sillies, that was his uncle), Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman starred together in 'Notorious' (not 'To Catch a Thief', that was Grace Kelly), there have been 16 Popes named Benedict (not 14...sorry Kindergarten Friend...I should have listened to the Catholic on the table), the Federal Minister for Health is Nicola Roxson, the largest country in the world with a single time zone is China and British Prime Minister Gordon Brown has a child with Cystic Fibrosis.

I share all this with you in case you are similarly inclined to trivia and need to stock up.

I am pleased to report that our table came a very creditable 4th (out of 17?) by about 3 points.
(If only I'd listened to you Kindergarten Friend! Of COURSE you would know how many Benedicts there've been!!!)













"Now count with me people, there were ten by 1058
(but we don't mention him as he was an anti-pope)
and I am what number again?...."



We had a lovely lively table, made up of friends from current and past work as well as Kindergarten Friend and the Bestie's lovely Mum and Dad. Poor Bestie's Mum was under the weather in a big way, suffering from the same cold we have all had over the past three weeks (I blame the BA, she had it first). She was not, however, too ill to recognise the well toned torso with the blacked out face in the 'Who Am I' section of our Table Quiz Sheet. "Oh, that's Hugh," she chirruped,"I have a copy of that picture in my scrapbook." We were the only table to get that question right. I think we were also one of the only tables to get 'Frodo son of Drogo' too as Bestie's Dad reads the LOTR on an annual basis.

The Baby Angel was again roped into helping sell 'raffle tickets', this time in the form of playing cards. I watched ever so proudly as she stood up to the microphone on the stage and announced confidently,
"And the winning card is, the Ace of Hearts. The black Ace of Hearts."
Mother's heart flutters. Ohmigod. She means the Ace of Spades. Someone tell her it's the ace of Spades. Ohmigod how embarrassing, she should know the suits, we play cards for goodnesssakes.....

At this point there was a flurry of conversation and card shuffling but then my lovely, clever and perfectly in control of the situation daughter leaned towards the microphone and showed us the back of the playing card. It had a black pattern. Of course! there were two packs sold, one red and one black so like raffle tickets, you needed to know the colour of the card as well. Oh mother! Have more faith in your offspring.

Oh, and the other thing I was going to tell you about was the reaction we all had to the location for the night. St Privileged School* in Adelaide is a church based boys boarding school. Here is the Memorial Hall where the Quiz Night was held. The school is apparently the oldest in Adelaide and occupies 32 ha of prime, city centre real estate. It is so big that we got lost trying to find the Hall. It is so big there is a nearby suburb which is smaller. You can almost smell the money in the air. It is slightly obscene. Check out a website of a similar school if you would like to see how the other half live. If you are the other half, make a big donation to charity whydon'tcha....

But the thing which stood out for Kindergarten Friend and I was the lawn. Luxuriant, green, freshly mowed. And there's a drought on!!!

KF: (in faux upper class twit accent) Oh but we only use 'bore' water on our grounds.
Me: how appropriate.

And as KF says, bore water is a SHARED resource guys! It comes from the aquifer which should, strictly speaking be available to all! (Just weigh in here KF and explain that better please)

Nah, sorry. I am unimpressed. Schools like this make me vaguely uneasy. I know they produce many brilliant men; national athletes, Nobel Laureates and Rhodes Scholars but they also breed an air of 'elite-ism', of 'other-ness' which takes many young men down a slippery slope. Too many boys from schools such as this have been taught to 'take what they want'. Hell, these places defined 'The Entitlement Generation' before it became a widespread thing. Many of the things they 'took' were taken at the expense of others; jobs, bought for them by other 'old boys'; promotions and positions in the public eye; women.....whether the women wanted to be taken or not. And for those who could not succeed, who did not live up to the expectations set for them, there is shame, despair and the 'cover-up'.

I am assured by people who ought to know that it is changing; that moves are in place to build decent citizens shaped with a notion of service to their communities rather than 'little gods' who look to the community to provide what their wealth and status can purchase for them. I sincerely hope this is the case. If it is, it demonstrates the old Dr Suess 'Sneetches' principle beautifully. Just as the rest of the world was beginning to emulate their 'entitlement' mentality they cast if off in favour of self-less philanthropy. Damn. I want a star on my belly!!!

Anyway, that was our Friday night. How was yours?

image credits:
pope
oscar
school

What I Have Been Doing Instead of Blogging

On Thursday night I did not see the new 'Sex and the City' movie but I did sell a lot of raffle tickets.

The Bestie was involved with a charity showing of the new, hotly anticipated movie last Thursday night, complete with champagne, canapes, goodie bags and shoes, shoes, shoes! Being a fundraiser there was of course the ubiquitous 'raffle' and the BA and I volunteered ourselves to sell tickets before the movie.


I raced over to the theatre after a staff meeting and met the BA and The Bestie who were frantically putting 350 goodie bags out onto seats. I helped pour a few dozen glasses of champagne for the early arrivals and as 5.30pm ticked over we awaited the influx of keen moviegoers. Every seat had been pre-sold!

There were about 7 of us selling raffle tickets altogether and the prizes were lush. A pearl and diamond necklace, expensive shoes and spray tans...all very cosmoplitan and girly. The other sellers were young physios, trainees in the care of people with cystic fibrosis, and lovely young girls they all were. They had obviously however, never sold a raffle ticket in their lives! They proceeded to sell very few that night as well.

The thing with charity raffles is that you go in expecting people to have come with cash. It sounds callous but it's the fact of the matter. You don't ask them if they would like to buy a raffle ticket (surefire answer will be no) you inform them of the fabulous prizes in tonight's raffle and then ask whether they have their tickets?!! My lovely assistant, The BA, and I sold our first 100 tickets in under an hour and started on a new book before the other girls had got a third of the way into theirs. The thing was we had 90 minutes to get to 350 people before the movie started. We finished the evening off by walking up and down the rows inside the theatre calling out 'Any more raffle tickets? Last chance for raffle tickets.'Tickets were $10.00 each and all up that night we made about $2700 on the raffle. (is that right Bestie?) I was well chuffed.

Of course , if the other girls had been more efficient I guess we still would have sold the same amount but this did not detract from my sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. At the other cinema (there were three cinemas sold out for this event!!!) the more timid ticket sellers only managed $1300 of sales and there were twice as many people!

All in all it was a great night. The patrons, dressed to the nines, enjoyed the movie a drink and a chance to pose for the society papers. The charity provided a top class event and made a healthy amount for a very good cause.

At the end of the evening I was chatting to one of the other helpers as we split up the contents of the single left over 'goodie bag'. This young and very attractive girl was not one of the timid physios but obviously a regular supporter of the charity and quite feisty and forthright. We looked at the various free gifts and decided who should have what.
"Here's some super wrinkle cream," I observed,"Well, it's too late for me, you had better have that."
"No,' she replied, matter of factly, "I'm not going to live long enough to get wrinkles."
We all laughed politely. I mean, youth! Huh. Getting older isn't that bad. Why must they all subscribe to the rock n' roll philosophy of 'live fast, die young'. Huh. They'll learn.
Somehow, through the voucher distribution we came to talk about food and weight.
"Well," she announced," I'm under weight, The doctor wants me to start eating meat and three veg. Good grief, it'll kill me!" she announced. Huh, I thought, these rigid vegetarians are so high maintenance.

Later that night as I drove the exhausted BA and I home through the quiet, wet streets of Adelaide, a lightbulb flash went off in my brain. I got home and texted the Bestie.

**I have only just realised. G has cystic fibrosis doesn't she?**

It takes me a while but I get there in the end.

And all my good feelings about the amount of raffle tickets I'd sold, my puffed up ego brought on by my superior selling powers and the good I was doing through my actions deflated like an old balloon at the thought of G and her beautiful face, her feisty persona and her life sentence.

If you'd like to know more about cystic fibrosis or donate to the care of children with the disease, click here.