cdbragg

I have a love affair with the underdog. I can't explain it rationally but then who can explain your allegiance to a professional sporting organisation?  The whole concept of being a fan is such a full blown, contradictory, hypocritical mess of non-logic to begin with. Gone is the age of supporting your local team; and alas, belonging to you local community is much more abstract because of it.  Sure, you can still see the local team  supported in  regional cities. A part of my suburban-bred heart is envious of that; but even here the local team plays a different role then simply being your only team. Everyone follows a 'big' team as well.  By 'big,' of course, we mean professional. And by professional, we really mean- I support a jumper. Everything else in this professional age is up for grabs. Players get drafted and traded. Coaches get hired and fired. Administrators run a rule over the books and make the ends meet without concerns that selling 'home' games to Darwin might make it harder for fans to go to the 'home' match.  It is simply following the trend. While we long for the golden age of Saturday afternoons, 2pm, the...

    I'm a middle-aged man. I know this to be true because I woke up with a seriously sore back the other day and moaned and groaned like an elderly gent all day long. I could only get to sleep that night by applying Deep Heat, thus making my bedroom smell like a football change room.  The pain has passed thankfully, but the stiffness remains and I still find myself making involuntary groans and grunts when I bend down. It is a very unsatisfying feeling to realise you are old, hence the fact that I have learnt, at last, what middle age is.  Middle age is a way of describing yourself, that, while not being young, at least creates the impression that you are not decrepit. For men this is very important. Inside each and every one of us is a 12 year old boy, dying to get out...not very deep inside either! Men, for example, like flatulence. It is satisfyingly purile and entertaining all at once. To be fair, all bodily eruptations are funny; but farts are king. That position obviously hasn't shifted since primary school. This twelve-year-old, inner child, is still certain that we can run so fast...

  A work colleague of my wife became alarmed to learn that I selected the new bedding and towels for our  apartment. His instant reaction being -'Apart from the sex, obviously, are you sure he's not gay?' Strangely, it is not the first time that 'doubt' has crept into people's vision of me. I have, on more than one occasion been looked at sideways because of my less-than-manly traits. Some judge me metrosexual but frankly that feels soooooooo last decade.   One of my closest friends in the world went through a rather baffling phase where he lamented not being gay because, and you can't make this up, they get all the good bread! Now, you might not have met my mate; but seeming as this is posted on his website, I will labor under the assumption that you have met Cameron D. Bragg. That assumption means that you will be aware that he is known for his broad and seemingly random statements. It is only after some thought on your behalf, that you make some sense of it.  Is it a metaphor? Maybe, if you want it to be. Is it just literal? Well it became a staple of his conversations...

Why is everyone so much more important nowadays? If you you don't own a blog do you exist at all? I blog, therefore I am: Its a new world order. Frankly I do concede it to be incredibly post-modern (well actually whatever contemporary culture deems is the post, post- modern) to raise this debate in a blog. But, here I go I guess. Look at that last sentence for a minute will you? See how I started it with 'but?' What a revolutionary concept...no really. My wonderful English teacher Mrs.Robinson (yes that was her name and yes my mate Morry  and I sat in the back row and hummed dudt-ta, dudt, ta-dudt, dud dud, dud dud do,  all day long) would always stress the rules of grammar were quite specific about not beginning sentences with 'but' or 'and.' Quite right for mine too. It always sounds like you are picking up the story midstream. 'Now...where was I? That's right- But....' Much later I enrolled in a creative writing course and had another brilliant teacher by the name of Ray Mooney, who's bugbear (and trust me all writers and most readers have lots of them) was...well using the word 'was.' He taught...

When I get around to it, this will be the first article about Tommy's postcards.  Tommy, if you are reading this, be assured the first postcard was a great postcard!...