The unbearable lightness of crap

Crap. It's everywhere, and it's craptastic. And more to the point, it's available on sale on the internet at Never To Be Repeated prices. The Crap Sale has become an institution at NZ discount products website 1-day.co.nz in the very short duration of its lifespan. Like most sites of its nature 1-day puts up three heavily-discounted Things every day at midday, with which one may dispose of one's disposable income, if one is so disposed. It's been a roaring success for the site, which started as a spinoff from an online cycling equipment site. But the jewel in the crown is the Crap Sale, where every few months everything left over in the warehouse gets flogged off at giveaway prices. F'rinstance the Globe skate shoes (RRP $129) I bought off them the other month for $55 turned up for $30. Bastards. Almost bought another pair. The issue of whether 31 year old men should be wearing skate shoes in the first place is not one which we will be addressing in this context, so go intercourse yerselves with some form of objet d'art, preferably a pointy one.

We are currently eight hours into the latest iteration of the Crap Sale and so far the Visa has sustained only light shelling - a stunt kite for the boys (i.e. to show off to the boys) and a pair of sunnies. Which means, it would seem, that my old cherry-red Julbo frames are headed for retirement. Which in itself is kind of a shame. They're old and ragged and scratched to buggery, and one of the lenses occasionally pops out like a geriatric's hip, and they're a fugly colour. But... they've got character. Because they've got history.

First of all, they cost me nowt. Nada. Not a sausage. Found 'em in a teaching lab I was demonstrating an undergrad course in, wayyy back in 2000 (PhD first year, for those keeping records). Across the semester, noone had claimed them, so I did. If you can afford to forget you own a pair of sunglasses you can afford to buy another pair. The tours of duty were hard and onerous, and the new rims weren't spared. Four Livid festivals. Four Homebakes. Five Big Days Out. Three Gold Coast Indys. Many, many drunken days of cricket at the Gabba. Australia Day/Hottest 100 BBQs. Boxing Day BBQs down at the folks' place with Team Old Skool. Missions to the V8 Supercars at The Switch (cue Duelling Banjos theme). And countless, endless days at the beach, the park or the RE beer garden, roadtrips up and down the coast, backyard cricket (aka 'backyard sledging'), playing fucking ordinary golf and swearing about it, or just kicking back in the sunshine on campus with Dr Craigos and ogling exceptionally hot underdressed women. Before DMDY turned up on the scene of course *cough*

(Pre-event drinks for Homebake 2003 high above Hyde Park. Classy. My best man and both my groomsmen are in amongst that lot. Not picked for their culture or decorum, you may be surprised to learn.)

Through all those tours of duty, through bushfires, snakes and tinea, drizzle, drought and flood, the old shades fought the good fight and completed their mission objectives to a tee: (a) keeping the sun out and (b) not getting lost.

Old, dodgy, busted-arse sunglasses nicked from a teaching lab in 2000, we salute you.

Now bugger off, I'm off to check the Crap Sale again. Walkie talkie watches for 40 bucks? Sign me up matey!

The Doctor is OUT.