Getcha 'ead round this...

GEE gosh, golly and durn it, it's been a wee while since my last bout of verbal diarrhoea, hasn't it?
This is in part because of the nice little white thing connected to my head through some nice little white headphones. I bought myself an iPod the other week and it's proved quite an addictive little piece of equipment, not least because it takes a rather long time to drop somewhere in the vicinity of 200 cd's onto it.
At the moment's there's something like 1357 songs on there, of which more than a few are doubles (live and studio versions), and some are "Good Morning Vietnam" excerpts ("It's 0-600 hours, what's the 0 stand for? Oh my God it's early").
Add this rather worthwhile distraction to the changes we've just made at the paper, which now require me to work at work, and it's all been busier than a one-warmed man with crabs down here in sunny Cooma.
Not nearly as busy as down in Taswega though, what with Crown Princess Mary of Denmark and her husband (some Danish fellow) visiting her home state for the first time since their fairytale wedding etc etc.
I'm rather fatigued about the whole damn thing though - Miranda Devine of the Sydney Morning Herald put it best when she said that many men felt she was "just a pretty Tassie chick who struck it lucky at the pub".
And that's pretty much what she is.
Yes, I know she's amazingly pretty and her husband's a bit of a spunk (between them they've pretty much got the looks down pat), and I know she's learnt the horribly difficult Danish language, but really.
I've had to learn the horribly difficult beaureaucratic language that council staff like to use when they're talking to you, as well as putting up with the delays they have in getting reports to you, but last I checked No Idea and Women's Folly weren't trying to stalk my every move with photographers desperate to catch me with an attractive member of the opposite sex hanging off my arm.
What has been more of interest to me was the revelation of former Australian Test cricketer Michael Slater's bipolar II diagnosis.
Being an unabashed Matthew Hayden fan (being from Queensland and all), I'll admit I always thought Slater was taking Hayden's place in the team.
Having now grown up (to five feet) and having the chance to look at footage of Slater, it's hard not to like the guy.
He lived life, and played cricket, at full blast. Both times he was dropped it seemed to be for a reason unrelated to his on-field efforts, and as we know now, there was quite a bit happening off the field.
Perhaps the lesson we can take from that is bottling up inner demons isn't the manly or Australian way to do things - it's a surefire way to oblivion.
Just because someone's talented doesn't mean they haven't got problems elsewhere. Nobody's perfect.