Technology Explained
Last month there was plenty of excuses for not getting Vista installed so your Techo could add his own experience to the burgeoning number of comments out there on the internet. This month was no better! The hospitalisation and passing of "Gentleman Jim" early in the month has put as large a gap in the Techo's schedule as it has in his heart. I'll remember forever the pride Jim took in his honourary title "The Master's Apprentice" when he was the arms and legs for Techo, who was trying to support Jim's home PC environment from afar. Rest in Peace.
Last month there was plenty of excuses for not getting Vista installed so your Techo could add his own experience to the burgeoning number of comments out there on the internet. This month was no better! The hospitalisation and passing of "Gentleman Jim" early in the month has put as large a gap in the Techo's schedule as it has in his heart. I'll remember forever the pride Jim took in his honourary title "The Master's Apprentice" when he was the arms and legs for Techo, who was trying to support Jim's home PC environment from afar. Rest in Peace.
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The Tattoo. (A short story from TB Jackson serialised in this magazine. This month - Part 3)
"The surprise is yet to come. Fat Bob replied in a very quiet, serious voice.
"Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with you today man, but hey, top work. Thanks."
"No worries Billy. Look after it and it’ll look after you all right. You know the drill. Hey, how’re you getting home?
"The bus. Why?
"No reason. Just curious. That was a big job. Make sure you give it a good wash when you get home."
"Yeah of course Fatty. I’ll drop back in a couple of weeks when it’s healed up. Catch ya later mate."
"I’m sure you will."
As Billy walked from the shop to the bus stop he lit a joint. The sun was all but gone, the shadows playing tricks on his altered mind. He boarded the bus and looked towards the back for a suitable place to hide. Right at the back a couple of young skaters sat watching him as he walked towards them. The one in the middle slid across the large rear bench seat and gestured for him to sit. He slid in along the seat right up to the corner. The bus contained barely a dozen people. There was a group of young Asian tourists sitting half way to the front with an older couple not far behind them complaining in a louder than normal voice about ‘foreigners living in our country and speaking in their own tongue, or words to that effect. Three young ‘Barbie dolls sat closer to the front, looking like they were heading out for a big night, and a middle aged office worker on her way home after what must have been a pretty big day, due to the time and her drained appearance, and, of course, the skater boys up the back.
"Get a new tatt man? one of the young boys enquired.
As Billy looked at them they cowered in fear.
"I, I mean... one of them stuttered and pointed at the paper towel taped around Billy’s arm.
"Yeah. was his stern reply.
Staring out the window Billy watched the nightlife begin to emerge as they wound their way out of the city. The sun was long gone now and the neon lights created their own bizarre little world, ‘drink this, don’t eat that, do this and so on, all blinking frantically, trying to get their message across before the light of day once more descended.
The two skater boys were bickering between each other, obviously about Billy, trying to work out which one was going to talk next. The one in the corner was a weedy thing, maybe 15 or 16 years old. He appeared to be a spoilt little rich kid with his brand name clothes and custom board. He looked like he’d wet himself if you even looked sideways at him. It wasn’t going to be him, that was for sure. The other kid, about the same age, of similar build but a little beefier was also wearing brand name clothes but his being much more worn, looking more like hand me downs or opp shop items rather than new store bought ones. As Billy turned towards them it was him who once again had the guts to speak.
"Did it hurt man? he tentatively enquired.
"Not at all. Billy replied
He found this fact hard to believe and rolled up one of his sleeves to reveal a really bad backyard tattoo, hardly recognizable.
"This caned me man and it’s nothing compared to the artwork you have. He was obviously disappointed with the work, and rightly so.
"The surprise is yet to come. Fat Bob replied in a very quiet, serious voice.
"Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with you today man, but hey, top work. Thanks."
"No worries Billy. Look after it and it’ll look after you all right. You know the drill. Hey, how’re you getting home?
"The bus. Why?
"No reason. Just curious. That was a big job. Make sure you give it a good wash when you get home."
"Yeah of course Fatty. I’ll drop back in a couple of weeks when it’s healed up. Catch ya later mate."
"I’m sure you will."
As Billy walked from the shop to the bus stop he lit a joint. The sun was all but gone, the shadows playing tricks on his altered mind. He boarded the bus and looked towards the back for a suitable place to hide. Right at the back a couple of young skaters sat watching him as he walked towards them. The one in the middle slid across the large rear bench seat and gestured for him to sit. He slid in along the seat right up to the corner. The bus contained barely a dozen people. There was a group of young Asian tourists sitting half way to the front with an older couple not far behind them complaining in a louder than normal voice about ‘foreigners living in our country and speaking in their own tongue, or words to that effect. Three young ‘Barbie dolls sat closer to the front, looking like they were heading out for a big night, and a middle aged office worker on her way home after what must have been a pretty big day, due to the time and her drained appearance, and, of course, the skater boys up the back.
"Get a new tatt man? one of the young boys enquired.
As Billy looked at them they cowered in fear.
"I, I mean... one of them stuttered and pointed at the paper towel taped around Billy’s arm.
"Yeah. was his stern reply.
Staring out the window Billy watched the nightlife begin to emerge as they wound their way out of the city. The sun was long gone now and the neon lights created their own bizarre little world, ‘drink this, don’t eat that, do this and so on, all blinking frantically, trying to get their message across before the light of day once more descended.
The two skater boys were bickering between each other, obviously about Billy, trying to work out which one was going to talk next. The one in the corner was a weedy thing, maybe 15 or 16 years old. He appeared to be a spoilt little rich kid with his brand name clothes and custom board. He looked like he’d wet himself if you even looked sideways at him. It wasn’t going to be him, that was for sure. The other kid, about the same age, of similar build but a little beefier was also wearing brand name clothes but his being much more worn, looking more like hand me downs or opp shop items rather than new store bought ones. As Billy turned towards them it was him who once again had the guts to speak.
"Did it hurt man? he tentatively enquired.
"Not at all. Billy replied
He found this fact hard to believe and rolled up one of his sleeves to reveal a really bad backyard tattoo, hardly recognizable.
"This caned me man and it’s nothing compared to the artwork you have. He was obviously disappointed with the work, and rightly so.
Continues next month.
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