無名之懦夫 - Nameless Cowards

Well as usual more time has gone by than I wanted since my last post. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all that. Things have indeed been happening here. KC has apparently caught gone mad and started using the word blog.

My bicycle got stolen from outside my work a week before Christmas. Motherfucker. You better hope the police find you before I do. I went and reported in to the police, who I have to say were very good about it. Police back home would have told me to piss off. The drove me to the station to file an initial report, then back to where the bike was stolen from, then back to the station to finish the report in great detail. They were so friendly it hurt.

Losing the bike has really pissed me off, and continues to piss me. The thought of my bike stolen and ridden, then sold by some arsehole is maddening but then there�s the two hours I spent looking for it and talking to the police that day, the hours (literally) I�ve spent waiting for buses that didn�t come or went to the wrong place and made me late. The parking situation around work has worsened since I last took the Husky and finding a park in the morning is more time wasted. God this pisses me off, and I�m reminded of it every day.

Christmas was low key - we didn't really have anything planned, so Dinna and I took advantage of the fact that Helen and Brian were away and used their kitchen. I cooked the traditional festive favourite of steak. I can�t remember that last time I cooked for Dinna, or even the last time I cooked.

New Year was great. Ish. Monday was unexpectedly a public holiday, so The Antagonauts played at the Living Room with Paparazzi band and Mister Green. Again, fairly low key but it was nice to be gigging on NYE. We missed the best Taipei 101 fireworks in the three years I�ve been here but I don�t regret missing the crowds there. We also didn�t miss the traffic � it was still hard to get a cab home at 3:30 am.

The same Friday of that weekend, Dinna picked up a stray Labrador that lives in our neighbourhood. She�d been eying him off for a few days and picked him up despite my protests. He is a strangely quiet dog (mostly) and was clearly dumped by an owner whom had given him some training.

We got him to the vet and found he is mostly pretty healthy, except for small problem with his hips (apparently labs and golden retrievers have a genetic predisposition) and heartworm. The heartworm is a problem � it requires more than NT10, 000 in injections to cure a dog as large as him. He weighs 35kg.

By this stage we'd already decided to keep him and after trying to think of names (my suggestions were Crankshaft and Piston) we chose 'Yingxiong' (Hero) even though he's not heroic in any way. Dinna balked at paying this much money and suggested maybe we could give Yingxiong to the pound or an animal shelter but I thought that if we'd pulled him off the streets, we might as well be good enough to actually help him. Besides, taking him to the pound would mean his destruction, undoubtedly.

(I found out this evening that Katrina had kindly put up a collection jar on the counter of Bobwundaye and put NT2000 in herself. People had put in another few hundred. Incredibly generous; I was touched.)

Today, the pathetic landlord of the other side of this building called the cops while I was playing drums at five in afternoon. Then, when I went downstairs, I found this note on door of my landlord's brother:



"Regarding your rooftop tenants playing drums, in this compound many tenants have expressed dissatisfaction at this and called the police to deal with this. Tell your tenants, 'Do not play drums at any time'. Signed, the landlord of the opposite side."


This is not the first time they've done something like this. After we moved an old bed frame over to their side of the rooftop (innocently thinking they did not use it and would not mind) a similar note was pasted on the same door. We moved the bed frame to the exact middle of the rooftop and nothing more was said. Then the wife also barged up one night when we were having a barbecue a few months back. Seeing we were only on our side and they had nothing to complain about, she left without saying anything. I believe it's that they don't like us, Dinna thinks it's that they don�t like our landlord. Fuck 'em; I'm not stopping playing for them. I don't normally play past six in the evening. Why the fuck should I put up with this when there are people renovating buildings at seven on a Sunday morning and crazy politicians going around at all hours begging for votes with bullhorns? No way. The 'many tenants' I suspect are bogus; be that as it may, these people could easily come up and talk to us themselves. Calling the cops and leaving notes on doors are the actions of nameless cowards.

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  1. Heather says:

    Ahhh James, still the angry angry young man I miss so much.


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