Category Archives: Mumbling

Return of the Living Dad

It’s been more than four years since my last post.

During those four years, my two sons – the cornerstone of this blog’s five-year existence prior to its recent hiatus – have grown to be 14 and 12. The elder one is now such a strapping young lad with a broken voice that, at times, I mistake him for a grown-ass intruder who raids our pantry, fridge and the internet download plan. The younger one is also at the beginning of a growth spurt, and even sports a faint moustache that looks drawn on by a pencil (apparently some women do that … above their eyes, not their upper lips). The days of me lifting them up, dangling them upside down and giving them good’ol wallopings are well and truly over. The boys certainly don’t require the degree of helicopter-parenting that I practiced when they were younger because … apparently they know everything under the sun and I’m just a nagging, cranky old man who doesn’t even know what Discord is.

Also during my four-year absence, my passion for running – the other cornerstone of this blog – waned considerably. What used to be a three times a week activity has reduced to once a fortnight … at best! I could blame the tardiness on my knees, my weight, my blood pressure, and the alignment of the stars relative to my daily bowel movement. But, NGL (I learnt this from my sons, look it up), I have no physical impediments to running whatsoever. I’ve just been bat-shit lazy! I still visit the gym religiously. But my wife thinks that’s only because I’m becoming more vain and narcissistic, thinking I can trade her in for a younger model. Judging by her demeanour, my wife is not worried … at all.

The problem then is this: if the two cornerstones of this Joggingdad blog (Jogging and Daddying) are withering away, what is left to write on this blog? I’m certainly not going to talk about my career which is speeding towards a place called Dead End, or my marriage which is slowly leaving a town called Damn Kids’ Fault.

But I’ve also come to realise the lack of any personal achievements in the past four years, except a shitload of time watching Netflix, scrolling social media and listening to podcasts – endeavours which have done nothing but make me even more of a nagging, cranky old man. To be fair to myself, I did try a few things in recent years, such as learning to play the guitar and having a go at stand-up comedy. But I quickly realised the right side of my brain is comatose and better off left alone.

So, I’ve decided to write again.

Write for fun, write to vent, write in zest.

I may even start another blog, writing on some reflections of life, the inevitable crisis in the middle of it, and the sheer lunacy of the whole shebang. All this, hopefully, leading to a fully-fledged published book in due course.

NGL, it’s going to be a long journey, this writing caper. But the time has come for me stop bitching and moaning about all the content on Netflix, social media and podcasts, and start creating my own.

Keep on pounding.


Keeping up with times, by getting down with technology


How do you do this on Facebook?

I used to think that I was up to speed with technology.

As one of the first young people in Australia to own a mobile phone in the early 1990s, I used to try to impress babes with my 3 kg brick—a device that is now holding the left back corner of my man cave in the backyard. I was one of the pioneer customers of Apple’s music download store—a hobby that resulted in a vast library of $1.99 tunes but is now collecting digital dust on the front right corner of my hard drive. Not to brag, but I also embraced online social activities at an early stage. I figured out how to use this WordPress thing all by myself back in 2011. Unfortunately, it took me another year to realise that I actually had to create the content myself (I thought it had an algorithm to produce fake news and I just had to put my name to it). Continue reading

Happy wife, happy life

My daily ritual during the renovation

My daily ritual during the renovation

There are two things a man should avoid doing in life: (1) argue with the wife and (2) renovate the house.

While I have contravened the first rule plenty times since we have been married, no permanent damage has been sustained to-date. Unfortunately, over the past six months, I have also broken the second rule – a grave error that has not only led to even more contravention of the first rule, but has inflicted grievous harm on our financial health.

In truth, I should be grateful. After all, my wife handled all the hard work relating to the renovation, including designing, getting the builders in, co-ordinating the million things that need to come together, and even negotiating with God for accommodative weather. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t engage in a little “bitch and moan” session about the whole experience. Continue reading

The Thrill is Gone

Mr King with Lucille

Mr King with Lucille

When I was a teenager back in the late 1980s, I came across a documentary featuring Eric Clapton. Clueless about these things as I was at that time, I still very much appreciated Mr Clapton’s music and especially his guitar skills. In that documentary, however, Eric Clapton said something about one of his influences being BB King. At that time, there was no such thing as the internet, let alone Google and Youtube. So I remember looking up this BB King character in the library one day, and was astounded how famous he was in the field of blues and how pervading his influence has been on the modern-day R&B. Continue reading

Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional

Thanks to her, I had no blank space on my back for a few days!

Thanks to her, I had no blank space on my back for a few days!

Despite being 41 going onto 60 in biological terms, I still behave like an 18 year-old going onto 8 in maturity terms.

I was abundantly reminded of this during our recent family holiday. At all the fun parks, I was often the only adult shoving kids (including my own) aside to get on the best rides. I am the only parent at the resort acting like silly buggers with my boys in the pool. Even during meal times, I couldn’t help but fight over French Fries with the kids, and drawing an exasperated expression of “Oh, grow up!” from my wife. Continue reading