Copyright 2002 - 2007 I Text and Photography by Dieter Rolf Fischer, unless indicated I Above photos: Telstra
22. Aha God L P
Literature experts judging my writing would certainly criticize my limited use of vocabulary. My English is limited because it is my second language. After uploading the previous chapter, amazed at how my eyes open to connections as I write, I again tried to win my wife over. "How is it," I asked her, "you are not one bit curious, what I am writing?" Why are you so ...?"
I could not find a word, which describes a person, who is the opposite to curious or inquisitive. If there is a word, it definitely applies to my patient, contented wife. This quality had certainly contributed to her 30 years plus accident free driving record. I used to joke about her cautious, unhurried driving style:
"My wife is a very patient driver. If a bus stops in front of her, blocking her lane, she would not bother changing lanes. She only moves around it ten minutes later, after finding out the bus driver pulled in to have his lunch."
Her keeping distance from what I am experiencing may also stem from the fear of the unknown. Until a few years ago my wife knew me as a completely different person. This transformation into the realm of the supernatural can be a frightening factor. But to simply ignore it is happening does not lead anywhere.
Much of what I saw, interpreted and wrote into my diaries touches the supernatural. But may I say it again, all links and connections are true and factual. If I have contributed to them, such as taking a photograph in a certain way, I usually point to this. The vital question, however, who was behind the magic, 1) human manipulation 2) divine intervention or 3) plain co-incidence, is still a test of faith.
What I discovered on the morning of publishing this chapter, my faith regards as divine intervention, planed by the Master planner. It came in this morning's Daily Bread Bible reading:
Nov 22, 07 - Daily Bread - Harvest Home
Text: The hymn "Come, Ye Thankful People Come" is often sung at Christian Services of thanksgiving. Written in 1844 by Henry Alford .."
The Daily Bread booklet was prepared, probably, as early as July 07. In November, I discovered in Chapter 21 that Alford, South Australia, has Postcode 5555. On the very day of uploading Chapter 22, the name Alford pops up in the Daily Bread. Love it.
The message: You also be patient. Establish your hearts for the coming of the Lord is at hand. (James 5:8)
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If divine intervention produced such magic, it confirms what I have said in all my books: If God is interested in the most insignificant detail of my life, why should he not care, when my mind sees a number, a name, a connection? Yes, it could be co-incidence. But why not see that HE is at work? The Master Planner showing Himself?
The number 5555 came onto the scene again shortly after I had discovered it. Later that week I happened to overhear a friend selling lottery tickets for a charity. I offered to buy one. Not that I like lotteries or gambling, but on that occasion I spent $ 2 on impulse. My Ticket No. - 006666.
Why is this significant? Some days later my playful numbers brain saw 5555x12=66660. (I shall know on 18.2 next year, if I won anything. My $ 2 ticket will be drawn at 18 Ashwin Pde ...
Hey, I just saw another trio - 128: The time of the draw 1 PM, the year 2008 matches perfectly.
Talking of 128 - in the previous chapter I converted 128 kilometres into miles. The figure came to 79.503. This only lacks a 1, to complete all odd single-digit numbers (13579). Remember the finale to chapter 21 - Plus 1.
I risk boring you with numbers, but one more, if I may. If there is any meaning at all, this example, again totally out of anyone's control, must be classed divine intervention. It happened around the time of the Royal Adelaide Show in September 07.
The old-people's home, where I visit an elderly gentleman, called Dave, was having their own mini Royal Show - balloons, games, trading-table, food etc.
As a fundraiser you paid $ 2, which would win one of the numbered prizes on the table. To determine which prize you won, the player had to spin a numbered wheel, much like a roulette, but standing upright, with a ratchet.
Dave spun first. His prize was number 7, because the wheel stopped at number 7. Next came my turn. I gave it a shove, the wheel went around, going click, click, click, gradually slowing until it stopped. Mine stopped at number 4.
I won a jar of cream to use as a foot massage. But that was not what got me excited. My feet don't smell. I was mildly amused by the numbers 7 and 4 since these two numbers were the triggers for my unusual trip to the US in 07.
My brain got even more excited, when I later realized, after looking up the phone number of the nursing home in the phone book - the last 4 digits were 7044! (Read on for more of seven and four).
- - - - - - -
November 07 - Video Store Catalogue - Front Cover
HARRY IN THE THICK OF IT - Order of the Phoenix
My wife brought home above magazine and left it on our coffee table. One day, while writing my diary, two words struck me:
ROBOT (partly shown, read backwards) - To be or ...
PHOENIX- My lottery ticket No.006666 is for the Phoenix Society.
After scanning I saw more than meets the eye. I purposely cut the scan after the word eye. I had seen the six letters right underneath - A NI STA (Full text - A one night stand).
I first saw the letters as the word stain. Then as the name Anita, with s left over.
But if there were a parallel to my story, the clue may be in the previous chapter. A flyer - Barnes and No ...ble.
It only came writing this chapter: add ...ble to Sta... - and it's Christmas:
More than meets the eye - in a stable!
- - - - - - -
On November 7th I was sitting in our lounge room, writing my diary. In the background, on television, a young man was busy over pots and pans, cooking up, whatever. For a fleeting moment I saw the print on his T-shirt. It looked like LXXIV. Even if I had misread the letters I surely had some fun with them. (To me they looked like seven and four - 74).
Technology in 2007 is such, if you have a creative personality, if you are opinionated and outspoken, you can let a TV program know immediately, what you're thinking. Since I was all three, I composed a brief email. As often, at the start I only had rough idea what to write. The PS came as a surprise, even to me.
Hi all,Being a friend of Romans, numerals that is, the chef's T-shirt distracted just a little from the smiling faces of K & D and the chef's lovely salad.Just what does LXXIV mean? Was the company founded in 74? Or do they produce Laxatives and a few letters went missing?Did I ever mention that K. has a double. We are good friends with a couple (the last one left). The lady, C, is a split image of K. Plus, her bubbly personality and manner ... It is unreal, but true. Even my wife agrees - and that is rare!Kind regardsDieter Fischer
PS Excuse me, I must go, this talk about LAX ... made me feel I had to go!
(LAX are the letters commonly described as Los Angeles International Airport).
- - - - - - -
On Monday 12/7/07, a week before writing, I had occasion to send an email to the media, which I don't do nearly as often as I used to. A prolonged series of discoveries, yes codes in addresses, signs, telephone numbers, may bore some. Still, I will still try to explain the thought processes, for the benefit of those connected.
The night before was a beautiful, sunny and warm Sunday evening. I went for a ride on my bicycle. Originally I had planned to check out a church, even considered dropping in for a look, but it was getting too dark to ride on without lights.
Turning back I wanted to take a different route, which took me through an industrial estate, where I had never cycled before, at least not in many years. Suddenly, as if a light switch came on, my mind captured a small hatchback, parked on the side of the road. A young lady was sitting inside talking on the telephone. The car's registration number, which ended in ...177 made me even more alert - something was brewing.
Readers must think: Here he goes again, the same old pattern, again! And it's true, it all may sound repetitive and predictable. I can't alter that. (Nice word alter).
Having raised my antenna, my radar picked up a large sign, which advertised land for sale. The blocks were numbered A1, A2, B1 and B2. The location was in Nylex Ave, (Hey, how well does that go with LAX?), right near a large factory called Michell.
My mind absorbed the data on the sign. (I never carry pen and paper). The estate agents were a large company in Adelaide's CBD, in King William Street. Not counting zero, their phone number consisted of only 1, 8, 3. Likewise their address - I saw the digits 1, 8, 5.
I knew I'd be paying this company a visit.
As mentioned, the next morning, Monday 12th, I wrote about my find in an email to a TV Breakfast Program. What triggered it was the name of the French tyre company - Michelin, and the way the TV presenter pronounced it. (She did it the right way. In Book 4, Chapter 2, I had written a fun story, mentioning this triviality).
The next day, Tuesday 13th November 07, a strange link unfolded. By chance I again watched a TV program as I wrote my diary. An author by the name of Ben Elton was interviewed. The TV show host, on a different Channel, read a paragraph of this British author's book, Blind Faith. The sentence he read out seemed to go on and on, about bottoms, more bottoms and bottoms still. Very strange, I thought - the name Maslin immediately sprung into my mind.
Now readers must put on their outside the box thinking hat. Why did the name Maslin come to my mind? Maslin is the name of Adelaide's famous nude beach. Bottoms and nude go together.
There was another pattern emerging in this process: The endings in Michelin, Elton and Maslin are all similar - L in, or L on.
I sent my second email for that week to this TV show. What I wrote was just for fun - but underneath it all, it had meaning:
Subject: Ben Eltin as MaslinHi all,David's extract of Ben Elton's book really scratched the bottom of the barrell. The few sentences he read out perfectly described closing time at the 'Open Day' at Adelaide's Maslin Beach.Everyone had to run for cover, because a hailstorm struck in surprise! Bottoms everywhere, scrambling for cover!Your newsroom probably doesn't know yet, but Ben Coussins was among that crowd. He was last seen driving away with two blonds in a Merc, heading towards La rgs Bay.Kind regards from AdelaideDieter Fischer
LinXMASPS David, in Adelaide it's dangerous to scratch the bottom of barrel - you may get an unpleasant surprise!
Ben Cousins refers to a real football player, who had dominated the news for months. He allegedly has a drug problem. He was reported to have taken a trip to LA (hence the gap in La rgs Bay), where he was allegedly picked up at LAX and driven away by two blonds in a Mercedes. While people love stories like that, I don't understand!
Moments after sending above email I took my morning shower. Walking back to the bedroom, bare-chested, my son commented: "Dad, you got boobs". Even 24 year old children know how to make Dad feel good for the rest of the day. I ignored it and continued into our bedroom to put on more clothes.
It was less than a minute, after my son's compliment, when I walked back and entered the lounge room. The same TV show I had just emailed was broadcasting the News. The lady newsreader read an item - about male breast reduction! Nobody thought it was magic. I did.
Later that eventful day I was taking the lift to the 11th floor of the office building in King William Street, in Adelaide's CBD. If the sign land for sale in Nylex Ave was a test, I wanted to let them know - HE passed.
On the same floor of this building was only one other company, a recruitment firm - Connections (not their real name). If there was a connection I don't know, All I know their slogan above their reception desk was wrong: Specialists ...inding specialists. The letter f was obviously missing.
Next I walked into the reception area of the Real Estate office. No brochure of the Nylex Ave land for sale was available. Then again, at the time my need for a block of industrial land was about as urgent as a burial plot at the Salisbury cemetery.
But there was more. Visiting the website of Connections Recruitment I discovered a name. It fitted into the picture, as if the whole story was a plot, only it wasn't. I sent my third email that week to the same TV program:
On Wednesday I emailed you, having found an interesting link from *Ben Elton's book (Blind Faith) to Maslin Beach, Adelaide (bottoms everywhere). Then I played my sport, changing words just for fun and see where it leads me to.
The word Maslin became Linxmas, which lead me to a company called Connections (Recruitment - Specialists ..inding specialists).
Yesterday, that's why I'm emailing Today, I found an interesting link from Maslin to Connections Recruitment - their founder is a gentleman named Malin.
(If he drives a S-Class Merc I'm not sure - I'm just reporting bare facts).Kind regardsDieter Fischer
PS The word sports comes from the old French word desport, meaning leisure! To me S.P.O.R.T means - Searing Passion Of Real Truth!
(*I edited the original email to correct an incorrect name and for privacy. In the PS I answered a question by the TV program hosts).
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At the time of writing, 20th November 07, Australia is preparing for a Federal Election. At no other time, apart from misreporting on crime, have I noticed how the media reports in a very biased manner. As far back as six months before the election journalists, columnists and TV presenters have told the Australian voters that on November 24 Labor will win in a landslide.
In the middle of November Mr. Tony Wright*, a journalist with The AGE (Melbourne), who appears on Adelaide's ABC Radio every day, started his recent political comments: "It's all over. Labor won the election, there's no way the Coalition (Liberal/National Conservatives) can win the election now".
*Mr. Wright spoke on Radio as I edited. He is the same journalist, who also stressed that voters will write off Mr. Howard, because he is too old - see previous chapter).
Another most obvious display of bias appeared in our only daily newspaper, The Adelaide Advertiser. On pages 15 to 18, Saturday 17/11/07 a week before the election, are six photographs of the Labor Leader, some with his smiling wife beside him.
In comparison, only one single photo appears of our present Prime Minister, John Howard. The paper chose one, without his wife, where he is looking somewhat sad and worried. Those editors know what they are doing in a very subtle, misleading way.
The Adelaide Advertiser, a week before the Federal 07 Election.
2 faces on page 18.
To place six photos of one smiling candidate, together with his dancing wife, but only one of a worried opponent on his own, is not fair reporting.
Not every voter, unfortunately, thinks for themselves. Many fall for this kind of subtle influence and go with the flow.
Australian voters have been bombarded for the past six months with the media's message: We need a new Government. Bulldust - read on why I say that!
May I also remind Australian voters they are not voting for either Mr. Howard or Mr. Rudd, unless they live in their electorates. They are voting for the local candidate of their choice. Published opinion polls in national newspapers have to do this, otherwise they would have to report 150 different opinion polls. Just reporting the race for Prime Minister makes it easy for the media to manage.
Political journalist bring out one point in this election, which baffles many. Why are the opinion polls against the present Government, when our economy is running at such a high? Normally, when there are jobs and reasonably low inflation and interest rates, Government don't get thrown out!
So what's the best way then to achieve this? The answer is nasty, misleading TV ads. At no previous election campaign can I recall more nasty television advertising.
One emotional TV ad has been running constantly for weeks during the campaign. A mother is answering the telephone. The person at the other end, so it is inferred, wants the woman to call in for work. She says, it's a little late to find a baby sitter. Next she is giving a worried look to her equally worried children in the corner: "You can't do that ...You can't sack me! The ad ends with a warning to not vote for the Liberal/National Coalition.
I find such ads appalling, emotional vote-rigging and totally illogical. Unemployment in Australia is almost at a record low. For an employer to simply sack the lady, without negotiation, sounds like propaganda. Would an employer really dismiss a worker, simply because she could not find a babysitter? All things being equal, would a boss really want to spent the time and money to find and retrain a replacement?
Another TV ad blasts Mr. Howard for saying he would hand over the leadership half-way through the next term, if elected. Yet, it was the Labor opposition, together with pro-Labor journalists, who virtually forced Mr. Howard to come out and say, if he was staying for the full term, if elected again. Honesty and transparency are traits journalists and politicians are not comfortable with. They twist the script to trip you up, even when you tell the truth.
What I have observed in Australia in the last six months, in the political scene, is alarming. If Australians really believe they are casting a vote in a democracy, they might as well believe in the tooth-fairy. Oh yes, we have a vote; we must vote, since in Australia voting is compulsory. But is everybody voting intelligently, after being informed honestly and openly? I doubt it very much.
In a newspaper article was the following comment: Primary school students were asked who they would be voting for and why? One nine or ten-year old answered: "I would vote for Kevin Rudd. If he becomes Prime Minister, he will change the climate".
That boy was well informed!
My final argument, the reason we are told we need a new Government, is simply this: The press gallery in Canberra, journalists on TV and on radio have been dealing with basically the same people now for 11 years. (As reported, Kerry O'Brien on the ABC's 7.30 report, started a question to Mr. Howard with this invented statement: "Australian electors are bored."
What he meant was this: "We journalists need new people, new stories, more skeletons to uncover, more scandals to explore. Toward this end Australian voters have been groomed for the past six months to dislike the present Government and ask for a fresh one."
As I see it, apart from Industrial Relations and some moral issues, there is really little difference in Labor and Liberal in their policies. It was interesting to note - not a word during the election campaign on Iraq.
The website of the Festival of Light (www.fol.org.au) is particularly useful for conservative voters, who don't know if a candidate shares their moral values. All candidates running for office at this election (unless they refused to do so) were asked 10 questions, covering mostly moral and social issues. According to the answers given, they scored up to a maximum of 100 points.
Surfing their website I learned of a Party I didn't know existed. A lady candidate is standing for South Australia, in the Senate, under the What-women-want Party. Her name is Emma Neumann. Her name is German and means - Emma Newman! (Maybe that's who my wife will vote for?)
How about a What-men-want Party? We find a man called Les Naggs. He would be a great candidate!
Another South Australian candidate is Neil Armstrong. He must have returned from the moon and migrated to Australia. He is standing for the Fishing and Lifest (yle) Party. Love it!
Whoever is elected into any kind of leadership must realize that he or she ultimately serves God Himself. Politicians are appointed by God. If they know it or not is irrelevant.
- - - - - - -
Outside Adelaide's Migration Museum
Courage - Pride - Dreams - Achievements
7..5..6..div..12 = 63 x 2 = 126 x 6 = 756
- - - - - - -
(Back to July 07)
At the end of July 07 an opportunity for travel came up; My German friend Robert was moving from Adelaide to Newcastle, New South Wales. All his possessions would fit into my little Suzuki and he was willing to pay all expenses. The offer was too good to refuse.
Robert, a tall young man, who grew up in East Germany, had first touched base with me, when I was the examiner on his driver's licence test in the mid 1990's. We had kept in contact on and off, inviting him and his girlfriend for a few Christmas dinners.
On Thursday July 26th, 07 we left Adelaide in the green Suzuki, packed with cooking gear, food etc and Robert's bicycle and personal belongings. My Suzuki knew the route to Newcastle very well.
Whenever I am travelling away from home, either my sensation for seeing my Da Ninci code increases, or indeed, I am being stalked without knowing how or why. It was evident right from our first major stop in the Riverland, South Australia's fruit growing region, about 3 hours from Adelaide.
During a brief walk around Waikerie the registration plates started. A large bus, parked on a private property had the door open, which looked odd. This made me note the registration number ... 177. No driver was in sight.
Another vehicle, a Lancer, also parked conspicuously, made me make an entry into my diary. The message on the plate registration plate: See victory G 5! Where did they learn my code? There must be more readers than I imagine.
Driving on through Berri a large sign advertised the Rose Festival, to be held from 20-28 October 07. The word Rose and No. 228 were impossible to miss. Of course, I didn't discuss such thinking with Robert, who was a deep thinker, mainly melancholic in nature.
I get on well with quiet thinkers, who can enjoy quiet hours, without the need to break the silence. However, it would take a closer relationship to try and explain my weird numbers game. I had not even managed such intimacy with my wife.
After a brief walk in Balranald, the frog capital of Australia, I picked up a Vicks Inhaler, right by our car. If it was meant to mean anything, I do not know. It was manufactured in India by Makson.
We stayed overnight in a Motel, Room 24, in Hay, but left rather early the next day to spent some time in Narrandera, 170 kilometres away. It was the town, where 195 days earlier, also on a Friday, my son on and I had seen the L 7 - cloud in the sky (Book 5, Chapter 27). A huge truck had parked at the edge of town - CAMERON. This name held much mystery in at least two instances in my books. In South Australia (Kapunda) and New South Wales (Ross Cameron).
I parked the car at the same spot as I had on my previous trip. At the time a truck went by - Ditch Witch. I still laugh when I think about it. This time I noticed a small van's registration plate - REA ..4 as it went by. If the clue was ERA 4 it would make sense. At that time the number 4 was prominent in my writing. (See Chapter 1).
While we had coffee and a snack I happened to read the name of the street - TWYNAM Street .... Why name? The mind boggles. I knew Bolton Street was just around the corner. As we strolled through the fresh morning air, the aviation Museum just opened.
Narrandera, New South Wales
Top: Aviation Museum Cadell Street
On leaving N-town a camper van, registered in Tasmania, turned right towards Adelaide, as we continued straight toward Sydney. His blue registration plate was made up of my initials (DR) plus the number 5 3 7. At least two out of the three were numbers of the long, white cloud.
Wagga Wagga, a large, provincial centre was our next stop. We did some shopping, and cooked our lunch on the little gas cooker I carried. Even here, small observations pointing to some aspect of my long story, didn't escape me. A young man was walking around, wearing a white beanie.
While eating our lunch we listened on the radio to a major political bombshell. The Premier of Victoria, Mr. Bracks, gave a press conference. He announced that he was standing down from politics to spend more time with his wife and family. Another pollie saw the light!
Ivan Jack Drive, Wagga Wagga. First opened in 1962.
View towards Wollundry Lagoon.
The children's sandal, lavender in colour, was lying on the ground nearby. I placed it on top of the wall.
Here are two little twists, which link to the last chapter:
1962 plus 1 makes my special number 1963. As soon as I had taken the photo I walked the few steps to the vehicle, where Robert was waiting. As I did a TOLL truck rolled up and parked right behind us.
For me this trip with Robert was also a walk down memory lane. We passed the Shanty Hotel, not far from Wagga, still on the Sturt Highway. (During a previous trip I had had a shanty, my favourite alcoholic drink). As I drove past with Robert, I noted a car enter the hotel carpark -registration No. ...505. Aha, I should calls in (sic) and considered doing so. However, being with Robert limited my freedom for doing crazy things.
The next milestone down the memory (Sturt) Highway was the rural town of Gundagai. We took a drive up the local lookout. What a view: Rolling green hills as far as the eye could see; below us the heritage listed, wooden bridge, one of the longest of it's type in Australia.
Gundagai was another reason to stop for a coffee and a walk around town. Near the church I saw a group of people standing around. Sensing some fun, I was thinking of joining in. Fun was taking place - a fun.eral. Out of curiosity I asked a lady, who just arrived in her car, who had died? Why I asked, I don't know. She gave me a strange look, as she said: "Gertie Paton".
Driving out of town, as we passed the library, I had an inspiration or impulse, whichever way you want to view it: "Why not check out the spot, where you picked up the docket in January?" (Book 5, Chapter 28).
Without explanation I stopped the Suzuki and asked Robert to wait just for a moment. I walked about 30 metres to the spot, where I had found the Bag-a-bargain, Tumut docket. It may have been nothing, but right at the spot was a pen, a blue paper-mate pen*.
*(Hey, I just noticed, that the last five letters, minus vowels, are PTN - the same as in the name - Paton!)
Gundagai, New South Wales
Corner Sheridan / Homer Streets, Gundagai. A funeral service was about to start at the church, located right on this corner.
My diary that day simply says: God is working behind the scenes.
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It had been at least 20 years, when our children were still young, since I had visited Canberra ACT. (The letters stand for Australian Capital Territory). Recently somebody described Canberra as a suburb around one great big roundabout. I know exactly, which roundabout he meant. Our new billion Dollar plus Parliament House stands in the middle of it.
Robert had a friend in the suburb of Redhill. It took us a few kilometres of detouring and asking for directions, before finding the block of units at 150 M... Crescent. Robert's friend's place was basic and rather small. But anybody, who has ever been forced to sleep on a park bench, or in the back of a cold, bare van, will never complain about free accommodation.
After a simple pasta, meat sauce and salad dinner Robert's friend, Hidez (name changed for privacy) drove us to a nearby shopping centre. The air was typical for Canberra, best described in one word - arctic (nice word arctic). The Manuka Cafe was packed. It was Friday night. We had to drink our coffees outside, under big gas heaters.
Hidez, who used to live in Adelaide, was an IT specialist. He applied for a high-paying job without expecting to get it. But he did. The way he described the Canberra, the lifestyle and job opportunities, showed how provincial Adelaide is.
As we chatted I noticed a young man, at the other end of the Cafe. It took a while, but in the end the big letters BONT registered.
Writing a name like that deserves a distraction. I googled BONT and found that it really exited. I sent the following brief email, adding a little 'feel sorry for me' message at the end:Hi all,Am I far out, when I think that you called your clothing BONT for a reason.If you had called it BOND, and it was on the front of a sexy top, it could be misunderstood?But then - I am misunderstood, with or without any logos on my clothing.Kind regards from AdelaideDieter Fischer
PS Or is there a French connection? BON is after all Good.
(I included our street name - the last two words are it).
This Good-T distraction brought out two little twists: 1. The manufacturers of BONT are located at ... 1A ... in the suburb of Camperdown. Does it not sound a little like - P came down?
2. This Sydney suburb is the location of a hospital. My first, brief flame, after first arriving in Australia, worked at that hospital as a nurse. Her name was Anne ... (surname D&L Man). The pretty nurse never warmed to me, while I was burning. (Actually, things are not much different in my present relationship: I am burning - my wife can't understand why).
- - - - - - -
Saturday 28/7/07 - Canberra
Top left: Hidez and myself on lookout. Beyond the Canberra suburbs, the view reaches a glimpse of the white caps of the Snowy Mountains. Skiing is a favourite sport for Canberra's residents.
Below left: My friend Robert in Canberra's main shopping mall. I liked the names of the store - Mind Games. Only later, after developing, did I see I had taken a photo of the business sign for key Cutting in the foreground. (KEY KING)
A piece of yellow packing tape, the type I had picked up many times before, was littered nearby. It was shaped like a large C and looking at us, as we sat and had a snack.
I found it hard to just walk away and finally picked it up and dropped it into a nearby bin. (Two days later, in Manly, Sydney, I happened to see an identical piece, perhaps a little smaller. I kept it, just in case somebody was playing mind games).
Right: We could not really leave Canberra without a tour of Parliament House; very educational.
(Quick quiz: How many stars are on the Australian flag? Divide 126 into 756, is the correct answer).
- - - - - - -
Robert's friend briefly showed us the sights of Canberra the next morning. He had to go work later, so we drove around ourselves, playing tourists. On our first attempt to negotiate the famous roundabout, surrounding our parliament building, we got lost. By mistake we ended up at Yarralumla, the residence of Australia's Governor.
We strolled along the golf course and looked at the imposing residence from a distance, over Lake Burleigh Griffin. On the way back, still lost near that roundabout, we ended up in the Embassy district. (All we had was a very outdated map of Canberra). Before we knew it, we were driving from one Embassy to another.
Around the huge US compound we noticed building works going on to reinforce security. At the German Embassy we parked, got out of the car, took a photo or two and remembered home. Robert had just returned from a trip to Germany, before relocating to Newcastle.
We finally found our way into Parliament House. I wished we had much longer than the hour we spent, looking around the building and taking a few photos from the rooftop. The views were spectacular.
- - - - - - -
When travellers from Adelaide hit the town of Goulbourn, they get a sense of achievement, knowing Sydney is just up the highway a little further. The flat bare landscape has turned into green, rolling hills. From now the road is a divided freeway, most of the way.
We had one final stop at McDonalds for a coffee. There were children having a birthday party. I love watching children having fun. Robert seemed a little agitated by the noise. He probably thought I was strange, getting pleasure out of seeing children enjoy themselves.
Robert grew up in a rural town in East Germany. He had a few disappointments in his life, like mother and father separating. He did not seem to get exited about the world metropolis of Sydney, despite this being his first visit. I just love the hustle and bustle, the the traffic, the tall buildings, the throngs of people from all nations and, not the least, the most beautiful harbour in the world.
We could have continued straight to Newcastle. There was time. But I had planned that we spend a night with my daughter Michelle and her partner in Dee Why. But instead of driving straight there I tried to find a place to park to show Robert a glimpse of the city on the harbour in 1 hour and a half.
Being a Saturday we managed a half-hour space, right in the heart of Sydney near Martin Place. After we had parked, I realized, we were at the rear of Channel Seven. It's the spot, where the show Sunrise is produced; where the presenters end the daily breakfast show outside, on Martin Place. The crowds vary, but there always is somebody, either a passer by, or a group of school children from thousands of kilometres away, mingling with the presenters, as they wind up for the day.
Half-hour parking was barely enough time to dash down historic Macquarie Street to Circular Quay. But we did it. As expected there was a hive of activity, tourists from the world over, taking photographs, buying souvenirs, or locals meeting friends for a coffee. It was a magic evening, the sun just casting its last few billions rays of light onto the white sail-shaped structure of the Opera House. Even Robert must have liked this experience - all ten minutes of it.
When we got back to the car I noticed a motor cyclist leaning against his machine opposite. I also saw an empty aluminium can in the gutter beside the Suzuki. It was a Wild Turkey drink. I took it, as my free souvenir.
Another one hour parking, across the northern side of the harbour, was again hardly enough time to soak in the magic of the now lit-up Opera House and city skyline. Even Robert seemed impressed with the grandeur of the landscape. A wedding party was having their photos taken, right under the Harbour Bridge. My mind went back to July 24 1969. Isobel and I spent our first two nights of our honeymoon only a short distance away.
As we walked past the white wedding cars I wondered, what kind of job it would be, being the chauffeur for one of them. Before moving on to finally get to my daughter's place in Dee Why, I commented to the owner of an adorable Mercedes sports car, how beautiful his vehicle was. I'm not sure, if he realized I meant the registration number 115.
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I hold fond memories of Sydney - 210 of them!
Left: Sailor's Home on Sydney's Circular Quay. Only on scanning the photo did I count the number of windows - 21.
Right: Car registration plate (photographed on purpose) outside the chapel, where Isobel and I were married in '71.
The place today is a Cultural Centre - dedicated to an Armenian hero - Alex Manoogian. (O man again!).
How wonderfully strange - not just the name, but the connection to Armenia. Had I not touched base with, and later written about, the Armenian struggle to have the 1915 genocide of their people, internationally recognized. (Book 4, Chapter 14).
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This is awesome: I am home alone typing. At approx. 2.18 pm, Nov. 21, 07 I heard a thump on the window in the adjacent lounge room. I looked to investigate. A dead sparrow was lying on the front porch. The little bird had attempted to fly through the front and out the rear window. But there is glass ...This has happened before, but mostly the birds were injured, not dead.
"Not even a sparrow falls to the ground ..."
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Listening to the radio in the night, while at my daughter's place that Saturday night, I overheard an item, which didn't sound right. I only heard that it was about the Queen and the Duke and a six year anniversary. From my daughter's P/C I started to compose an email, while everyone was sleeping.
Half-way into the first paragraph the irony struck: Six ...sixty ...ty?
And where was I ? In D Y.
Salisbury's slogan - Living City.
But why the divide into five sections Li-vi-ng-ci-ty?
Hey, I just worked it out - Code 158
(Clue - i = 1 in Roman numerals).
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But there is more, a little magic in the timing. Four months later, on the evening before writing, the actual event regarding the Queen and the Duke, was on the TV News. On November 20th the royal couple celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary, a rare achievement indeed.
Whatever the news item on 29/7/07 on the BBC was about, I do not know. Even if I had dreamt it, and not actually heard it, seeing a mistake (ty) at the location (DY) was fun to observe.
But there is more, which makes me think: No I didn't dream it. During the drive to Newcastle later that day, a vehicle pulling a trailer followed us for some distance, either driving in the lane beside us, or ahead of us. The registration plate, and I do not dream, while I drive, this one was for real - ODT 729. The date, remember was July 29!
As I typed about above magic, I just discovered another connection, which gave my patterned mind an Aha moment. Before Robert and I headed off to Newcastle he let me take a ride on his bike, which we were carrying in the back of the Suzuki. I wanted to say hi to one of Isobel's brothers and his wife in Manly. His name is (initial) D, hers is Y.
That morning, riding from Dee Why to Manly, I saw many clues. One just popped up out of the blue, or should I say green (grass). Outside a property No. 5, I noticed a vehicle rego ...003. This made me turn and just look. Then I saw the empty can, Vodka UDL Aussie Rule No. 5. (I can't recall if I kept it).
Not far away, on a seat at a bus stop, I sat and rested for a while. A brown bag took my attention. It was from the CCC (lots of C's all over) bottle shop. (I had planned to go to church later - to the CCC Church in Oxford Falls. After finding this paper bag, I felt compelled to go there!)
I didn't cycle the shortest route to my in-laws, fearing they might still be in bed at 9 am on a Sunday morning. In Wentworth Street, Manly, I saw something yellow in the middle of the road. It bugged me for a moment. But only crazy people stop, get off their bicycle to check what it was that littered the road.
But only crazy people read registration plates on cars, and if they sound familiar, they get an Aha attack, take note and write it in their diary. Near the yellow bit was parked car, registration number ART 4L - art(work) for L? Wouldn't this give you an Aha attack?
The yellow bit still had broken glass attached to it. It was part of a label on another bottle of alcoholic drink - Kristov - (Redstar) Vodka Cruiser, Passionfruit flavour. (For a non-drinker reader must think I am pretty pre-occupied with the stuff, eh?)
Actually, I am not a total *teetotaller. When my son visits, we might share a mild drink of wine or beer, which I mix with lemonade. But it is rare. However I respect those, who reject alcohol totally, knowing it's abuse is the cause so much trauma and heartache in the world.
(Shouldn't teetotaller be spelled tea-totaller? No, because the word has nothing to do with drinking tea. It originated during a debate over prohibition. One member of the committee was a stutterer and t.t.t.totally against alcohol. Hence the word teetotaller).
I removed the glass and kept the label. Again it's a cheap souvenir to brighten up a page in my diary. A minute later, on a scenic road, leading to Manly Wharf, I found the yellow tape (mentioned earlier) on the side of the road. It was close to my relatives house. D & Y were both still in bed. My prophetic skills again proofed correct. I chatted with my nephew A.N. briefly before heading back to DY.
My daughter's partner was working and Michelle also enjoyed a sleep in. While I cycled, Robert had had a walk at the beach. It was still reasonable early that Sunday morning. I knew I would be late, but still went to visit the CCC (church) at Oxford Falls.
A speaker from Missouri, USA was guest preacher. During his sermon I found out he has a son, born in 1975, like my son. He preached on two scriptures - 1. Cor. 3, 17 and Coll. 3, 21 (according to my diary). It didn't take Einstein to see 4, (or 1 for), since it was only two weeks to the date (13/8 - I looked forward to it with curious anticipation). Was it co-incidental that a vehicle rego 18E followed me out of the carpark? I do not know? But God knows.
Robert declined the suggestion to spend another night in Dee Why. I could have shown him some scenic spots, North Head, the Spit, Middle Harbour or more of Sydney. But he had his new home (New.castle) on his mind, rather than sightseeing, which was understandable.
In the early afternoon on Sunday 29/7 we departed Dee Why for Newcastle. Newcastle's postcode is 2300. More of what happened there will be in Chapter 23. However, I end this chapter with an incredible aha moment the next day in Newcastle, and like to show the pictures to proof it.
Robert and I were at the same park in Newcastle, King Edward Park, where my son Jon and I had cooked our lunch 198 days earlier. Readers may recall, how I had noticed that the seats and tables in the park had been freshly painted green.
Readers with a very good memory may also remember, how sad I was when Isobel's mother's old, green Datsun was sold. It holds so many fond memories, 120 of them. The registration number was VNT 963.
Now, over two years after selling the Datsun, right here in the same park, as Robert and I were having lunch, I spotted the very same registration plate, parked right near us. VNT 963 immediately rang a bell.
But no - it wasn't the green Datsun's new owners, who had taken the car on a holiday. It was a totally different car, a Subaru Liberty, with the identical New South Wales registration number.
When does co-incidence stop?
Had I merely spotted the identical plates, it may still have surprised me. But when not only numbers and letters, but also the location ties in, there must be an intelligent mind at work. Who?
Was it Mr. Angus? I emailed a person by that name on the morning of writing.
My email message was actually to the Principal of a State Public School, with a copy to six other experts in child education, one of which was Mr. Angus. In the early hours, still in bed, I happened to listen to a program on radio, which discussed the future of education in our schools. As I listened for 3/4 hours or so, I was baffled at the vehement opposition, whenever Christian values education was mentioned.
I felt more and more stirred as I listened. I was wide awake. At the conclusion, before 5 AM I rose, prayed and and composed the following message, which I would like every teacher and parent to know:
Subject: AFL (football) is not No. 1Dear Mr. Richardson,I woke on the dot at 4 am. Minutes later I came across a debate on ABC Radio National (Background Briefing repeat of 18/11/07), discussing education. What I heard was alarming. Mr. Andrew B. topped the cake with this comment:"... some academies were receiving those funds from, for example, fundamentalist religious groups who wanted to have specific impact on curriculum. Now, that should be avoided at all cost."So does Mr. B. support those, who see the future of schools in partnerships with McDonalds, Coca Cola and AFL cultures? And what is their motivation? Consumerism! Together with sport is this a man's ultimate aims in life?There comes a time when children think for themselves. They will wake up and see the deception. Some will find God and say: "Why did our teacher not teach us real values in the years we spent at school?"To * teach children that there is a loving God, who cares for each one, who sees us every moment of our life, who is interested in the most minute detail of our existence, sadly, is not sexy and does not fit into a secular society.Why bother with basic, life-giving principles, when it is far more profitable to employ experts, who are waiting at the bottom of the cliff, for those who come crashing down, whose lives were ruined by the foolishness and blatant lies fed to our children. Even parents were deceived.God's judgement will be most severe, according to my bible, on those who are causing one of these little ones to stumble! Every teacher should think about this, before taking away a child's simple faith that God wants to be his or her best friend.Kind regardsDieter Fischer
PS What a sad indictment on our society, when we teach the correct use of condoms to our young people, but nothing about God, the author of life!
*Here, I wrote the word not in error.
We must teach our children right from wrong, to guide them toward living a godly life. Prisons will be empty, not overflowing (unless they keep putting the innocent behind bars!).
If the political process is what puts a fence at the top of the cliff, surely Christian principles ought to be engaged to set the standard. The separation of church and state leaves the cliff without a fence.
And those who put up a warning sign are chastised for doing so! If my story has been a warning to some, it will have done its job. If I have opened the eyes of the blind, giving joy and happiness to the lost, IT was all worth IT.
To those who label me a mentally ill, a confused man obsessed with numbers and connection, I respect their right to view my world as they wish. In the end, God knows the truth. His truth prevails. All of us will give account to God - one day.
In the Video store catalogue shown above, where Harry is in the thick of IT, I read this quote by a famous singer. It sums up how I feel about my work, the words you are reading and the pictures you are viewing:
"I'm driven and I'm doing what I want to do, no matter what other people think. If you enjoy it and you're inspired and driven then that's all that matters really."
Justin Timberlake, commenting on Alpha Dog.
Yeah - I just saw it - Aha God L P