Mulled wine, police choppers and long walks ...

I have the most wonderful assistant. She's brutally honest and provided very clear boundaries when I was interviewing her. She said:

"I don't do: Christmas in July, Country (visits or the music), Late finishes - although very happy to do early starts, or Fancy Dress..."

I was not really after any of the above so she got the job. We've been getting along just fine in the 18 months or so that she's been working with us mainly due to my observation of her rules. So it was with some trepidation that I confessed to her that I had to attend a Medieval Themed Fancy Dress Banquet. Her opinion of me shattered, I vowed to make it a memorable night and truly show her that dressing up is indeed one of life's great pleasures.

To get my Medieval on, I borrowed a wenches dress. Yep - someone I know had one just hanging around and offered it... Sir Velence (the Propeller Head) looked resplendent in a Knights costume bought online, with chain mail, foam shield and a plastic sword. The kids wanted to be in on the action too. Max is never held back by convention. Or any other restraint really so he joined Oscar the dragon, Sir Velence and Lady Likesaslot as Buzz Lightyear for a quick family pic before we headed out for a night with the other Dungeons and Dragons support acts and a few gallons of mulled wine to make it all bearable.

The banquet had the potential to be great fun... If you enjoyed sword fights, suckling pig, candelabras, overflowing bosoms, goblets and Greensleeves... We were on the verge of having a brilliant time when I realised that we had hit the mulled wine pretty hard and should probably get out before the Chain Dancing started. This is where our trouble and brush with the law began...

Taxis don't visit Guildford after dark unless they are passing through on the way to the airport. Being a beautiful suburb wedged between Midland and Lockridge has never run in Guildford's favour and on this night, no taxis were running in our favour. We started walking in the general direction of 'home'.  After a few kilometres walking along the main road, we ditched plans for a taxi (along with sensibility  and decided that back streets would get us home quicker. The back streets of Bassendean, Ashfield and Bayswater had the occasional working streetlight and we had comfortable shoes on so we kept walking and walking and walking. Two guys came past on bikes (or one guy came past twice). Another person sat in the gutter with a backpack and didn't look up when we staggered by. Other than that, it was all rather quiet until about 15 mins from home and a police chopper shined its big yellow light down on us and started following.

We were very drunk and very tired by this stage. I was grateful for the assisted passage but really didn't think much of it until a police car and 2 officers pulled up within a couple of minutes. With their lights shining on our sweaty red  faces, Sir Velence was offered, "Good evening Sir - is there any reason you are dressed like that?". WTF? You mean people actually dress like this without a reason? I started rambling about dragons, damsels in distress and pitchers of mead... The cops didn't wait for an answer, took a brief look at my Knights blunt and obviously plastic sword, got back in their car, called off the helicopter search light and took off into the night.

Two hours after departing the banquet, we made it home and flopped into bed.

In between doses of panadol the next morning, I was curious about the police, so I had a look at the local news to see if there had indeed, been anything newsworthy happening in the hood last night. It turns out that yes - there was a service station hold up, by a man with a hood and a large knife. 

We were a block from a real and serious crime, yet in my lovely assistants eyes, the main crime committed was Fancy Dress. It will never happen again.

How to survive a plane crash

Fear of flying? No sir-ee. Not me. Not much scares me. 

Sharks do a bit... Bogan's put the wind up me too. Cancer would be quite scary. Public speaking is fine. Unless I imagine the audience naked... That's scary and the worse bit of advice I've ever heard. Spiders and snakes are creepy too.

Ok. So there a just a few things that scare me a little bit. But not flying in a plane. No fear. None.

Apologies in advance to those I've inflicted this story on before. Despite my claimed fearlessness, I've lived a fairly safe existence. No bungy jumping, sky diving, canyoning, drug addictions... So my near-death experience catalogue is a bit thin. Whenever I have to talk up the adventures of my youth, my plane crash story is about all I have to lean on. Here it is:

In 2003 I was in a light plane crash in the Pilbara. The plane was a Beechcraft Baron – there was the pilot and 4 passengers. I was sitting right down the back. It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon. It was hot and had been a long day. I nodded at all the right places during the safety briefing but was more concerned with finding a magazine for the 45 min run from Pannawonica to Karratha. 

The dirt runway was rough and there was a big cross wind so I sat back looking forward to getting in the air and levelling out. We were up and I was momentarily relieved to be off the runway when we were suddenly sideways – one of the engines had conked out. 

Then the other engine stalled and I found myself looking straight down a wing at rapidly approaching scrub. No one screamed. We just all looked down our wing pulling us back to the scrub and rocks on the edge of town. We were only metres, if that, from the tree tops when the pilot and plane managed to level out and we started  ploughing through the bush on the edge of town. 

I'd like to think that in the face of disaster, I am quick to respond and saved by intellect. But no.  I am however, a fast-follower. So when I saw the other passengers bracing, I thought I would too… We bumped along the ground for a few hundred metres losing propellers, undercarriage and a few other bits as we went. When we finally stopped, I again reverted to form and looked where the other passengers were escaping and followed – despite the fact that I was sitting adjacent to an emergency exit. 

The passenger I chose to follow was on the high end of 200 cm and 120 kg. He moved fast through that small emergency window though. In a manoeuvre something like a Fosbury Flop, he flung his frame out and on to the wing. I was so far up his bum trying to get out of there, I copped his size 11 in the chin on the way out. We ran like crazy, dusted ourselves off and thanked god (or science) that we had all made it relatively intact. Later found out that we shared a few broken ribs and collar bones but that’s tough miners for you…

I learnt something interesting about myself through this experience:

As the plane was crashing, I didn't fear death or injury. I didn't say a few last ditch prayers. I didn't scream. I simply remembered that I was going on break. There was another plane back at the terminal and that I’d get out of this mess … quickly … and get on the next plane out of there. Don't get between me and a holiday. 

How I work...

There are A LOT more geeks out there than I thought. Special mention must go to the Lightsaber owner-drivers club. I'm growing my hair long for a Princess Leia style and will post photos...

Despite some suggestions for changes to my top 5, your geeky protestations have been deflected. My poster boy geeks remain Brian Cox,  Leonardo da Vinci, Professor Frink, Alexander Graham Bell and, of course, the Propeller head. 

Given that one is too famous, one is fictional and two are dead, I have to take daily geek direction from the Propeller head and last week he shared one of his geek heroes with me - Chris Anderson...This Chris Anderson, not to be confused with another Chris Anderson (the founder of TED) has done some very cool things like:

1. Establish geekdad blog -  stuff for Dads (and Mums) to encourage the next gen geeks.
2. Editor of some pretty influential magazines like Nature, New Scientist, Wired and The Economist.
3. Founder of DIY Drones - yes that's right there is at least one other person on the planet besides the propeller head who is interested in building their own...

I particularly liked his article on how he gets things done. But I gather that the readers of my updates, while they love geeks, hold some firm views on overachievers so I thought I would compare his responses to ones I'd give... if anyone ever asked...

The similarities in our office furnishings and blog names ('geekdad'...'mininmummy'...) are eerie. 

Besides that, there's not much though. So there you have it - he's a super influential,  successful geeks geek and I'm well um.... normal....