It seems we had an unwelcome presence here on the website over the weekend.
I don’t know how long the little bug has been around, but I first noticed it on Friday. When I started doing something about it, it seemed to trigger a bunch of emails being sent to people about posts, removed posts, and possibly even medications that you (probably) don’t need!
I’ve worked all weekend on rooting out the problems. I’ve removed some malicious code, about 3,000 spammy links, and around another 3,000 old posts from the TS days. It’s kind of sad to see them go but they had no images and were full of dead links, so it’s probably for the best.
The deep scans have come back clean, so Swadeology is now exposed to the world once again.
If there’s anything good to come from this, it that I realise that I wanted to clean this site up and save it rather than just let it succumb to the black-hatted types. I do like having this place around to record some thoughts every now and then. And I’ll try and make use of it a little bit more.
So again, my apologies to anyone who was inconvenienced.
And if there are any more issues, please do let me know.
Cheers, SW
Postscript: It seems I’m having to approve comments for most people. Quite likely a result of the clean-up I’ve had to do. So please don’t fret if you’re comment doesn’t appear immediately.
My father was 52 years old when he died. He lived 19,256 days.
Today, the 19th December 2022, is day number 19,257 for me. Today, I am older than my father ever got to be.
It’s a strange thing, passing a milestone like that. And as you can probably tell from the mere fact that this post starts with such numbers, this milestone has been on my mind for a while. Since shortly after November 1985, actually, which is when he passed.
Would I get there? What shape would I be in if I did? And if I didn’t, would I have lived the life that I wanted to? Would I have unfinished business? Regrets?
Losing my Dad was heartbreaking for me as a 15-year-old kid but like all 15-year-old kids, I was sad because I’d lost something. Sure, I was sad that Dad had lost his life but in reality, my sadness was mostly about me. It wasn’t until some time in my late 30’s that I properly pondered what Dad losing his life actually meant for him.
When I was 15, I thought of my parents as being ancient relics. I think most 15 year-olds think of their parents that way. Now that I’m older than he ever got to be, I realise just how young he was. I realise just how much he missed out on.
Did he have unfinished business? Did he have regrets?
I can’t answer for any of his regrets. But unfinished business…
Dad passed away 37 years ago. He had a wife about to turn 50, a daughter in her late 20’s, a 15 year-old son, and two grandsons aged 5 and 2.
Mum continues to live a full life, is now in her mid-80s and still running rings around everyone. My sister’s in her mid 60’s and her boys – Dad’s toddler grandsons – have both married and had kids of their own. Dad was a two-time grandfather when he passed. Today, he’d be a five-time great-grandfather. There have been house moves, educations attained, football premierships, careers established and moved-on-from, too many prime ministers to mention, the Waugh-Warne-McGrath-Ponting era of invincible Australian cricket teams, and much more.
Those are just some of the things that he might have enjoyed during those 37 years but, of course, they would have happened around him.
More important, perhaps, is considering what he might have chosen to do in that time. What life choices would he have made?
Where would he have liked to live?
Would he have travelled?
What would he have done in retirement?
What new interests might he have pursued?
I could speculate on the answers to those questions (the Dandenongs or the Peninsula, he definitely would have travelled, photography and gardening, unknown) but in the end, it’s all a little irrelevant.
The important thing to recognise and address is that Dad had to leave stones unturned. A combination of capital-L Life and 1980’s medicine left him without a choice.
I’m his age. I’m still here. I have choices.
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So what to do? What does one take out of a milestone like this? A slightly morbid one, but a milestone, nonetheless?
I guess it’s a chance to take stock of how life has gone thus far, be thankful for it, and see if plans for the future measure up. I don’t know.
What would you do at a moment like this?
Is there an appointed time for self-reflection, for measuring oneself and weighing the results?
And what do you do with the results?
I’ll spare you the minutiae of any deliberations I’ve had in the months leading up to today. Suffice to say that I’m OK. But a few basics, perhaps….
Regrets? I’ve got a few.
Dad worked for himself and had two kids. I’ve always worked for someone else and have no kids. I don’t regret being a salaried employee but I do somewhat regret not having kids. It was the result of a bunch of deliberate choices, soberly made, and I’m comfortable with those choices, over all. But I can’t help feeling a tinge of regret.
I’ve also made some other decisions – for good, honest reasons – that have dented a few people’s hearts and/or spirits along the way. I don’t regret the decisions. They were the right things to do and the reasoning behind them was sound. I don’t know if there’s a way I could have navigated those decisions any better, but the fact that some people were hurt suggests that I could have. I don’t know.
Unfinished business? There’s always plenty of that.
Travel. Writing. Photography. Work. There are plenty of places to see, plenty of things to learn, plenty of things to share and I’m married to a wonderful woman with whom I plan to do it all. We have based ourselves here in Sweden a) because it was available to us, and b) because it’s a great launchpad from which to do/see a lot of wonderful things.
Which leads me to where this has been going all along, perhaps…..
Legacy.
What do we leave behind when we go? What’s the point of doing all these amazing things if those experiences only serve as talking points and beautiful memories in our golden years.
Here I am, thinking of and writing about my father who departed 37 years ago. I’m thinking about the (somewhat stunted) relationship we had, the imprint of him that’s carried forward in me. And I’m wondering what sort of imprint I might leave behind, if any.
If you’re a parent, your children and grandchildren are your primary legacy. If you’re not a parent, then what?
Perhaps there’s an outward-facing element of that ‘unfinished business’ that I need to explore.
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I’d love to know your thoughts, if you’d care to share them.
I don’t need your thoughts on my situation, but if anyone reading has gone through a similar thought process and come up with any answers, I’d love to hear them.
How do you recognise the contributions of others to your life? And how do you live in such a way as contribute more than what you’ve received?
Hey there. Last week’s post notwithstanding, it’s been a while.
Given that this website was always intended to be a more personal site – rather than the Saab community sites of yore – and because I’ve made a few electronic friends over the years that I enjoy keeping in touch with when I can, I thought it indulgent appropriate to…. reintroduce myself, to fill you in on what’s been going on over the last 18 months or so.
There’s been a bit happening.
Brabham
As you might know, I left Koenigsegg to return to Australia and work for Brabham Automotive. My employment with Brabham concluded with a redundancy a few months ago, in June, 2022.
The less that’s said about my Brabham Automotive experience, the better. The car does what it says on the tin – it goes very quickly around racetracks – and has the potential to do more. Working with members of the Brabham family was a pleasure and a few of the colleagues there were absolutely great.
That is all.
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Adelaide
Working at Brabham initially took me to Adelaide, which gave me a wonderful opportunity to stay with family I’d not seen nearly enough of over the years, and experience life in a new city.
Adelaide is a wonderful place. It’s dry. It’s got heritage galore – the locals revel in the fact that it was the first city established without a convict heritage – and it has miles upon miles of beautiful coastline.
Adelaide is a big automotive town with a significant car culture. It was the epicenter of Australia’s automotive industry at one point – Holden was founded there – and South Australians hold on (pardon the pun) to that heritage with quite a lot of pride.
Adelaide has Australia’s newest, and longest, internationally rated racetrack – The Bend. It used to host the Australian Grand Prix. It still hosts several large motorsport events every year, including on street circuits around the city center. And grassroots motorsport is alive and well on the city’s smaller circuits.
Given that a) the city is economically challenged, b) it has a big motoring past, and c) the state of South Australia has the most lax registration laws in the country, Adelaide also has a wonderful fleet of cars on its roads that would probably be regulated out of existence elsewhere.
These are cars that are truly nothing special – think Murilee Martin’s Down on the Street series for Jalopnik many years ago. But they’re cars that warm the heart because they still exist somewhere and they’re on the roads as daily drivers. It’s an automotive time capsule, if you like.
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Brisbane
One of the (few) good things to come out of the pandemic was the emergence and growing acceptance of remote working arrangements.
I knew from the end of Week 1 that Brabham was not going to be the place for me. While I entertained the idea of settling in Adelaide for a short time – I even made an offer on a house there – the idea of getting away from the office became more and more appealing as the pandemic dragged on. Thankfully, I managed to convince the powers-that-be at Brabham that working from 1600km away was a good idea.
Accordingly, I packed my little Alfa full of all my worldly goods and headed east to the Queensland capital – Brisbane – where I purchased a great little apartment just 5km from the city centre.
Brisbane is fantastic. It’s a proper capital with all of the entertainment and business opportunities that implies, but it still has a bit of a country-town feel. It might be the warm weather relaxing everyone. It might be the picturesque Brisbane River snaking through the city. It might be the proximity to some of Australia’s most famous beach destinations.
Whatever it is, Brisbane is brilliant.
But Brisbane, for me, hasn’t been about whatever car culture might exist here. It hasn’t been about the warm weather, the beautiful (if flawed) architecture of old Queenslander houses, or the tourist hotspots.
Brisbane, for me, has turned out to be all about Caro.
Caro and I met online – as all the kids do nowadays – and have been pretty much inseperable ever since. We live our lives in the real world so I’ll refrain from posting any deep details but …. she’s the part of life that I didn’t know existed until we met. The missing bit. The mysterious bit. The wise bit. The fascinating bit. The curious bit. The courageous bit. The irresistable bit.
We’ve crammed a lot into the last 18 months. For two people who jumped onto a dating app for a week – just to test the waters – we’ve sure got decent value for money.
The most significant bit was an exchange of rings and a conversion from Ms Caro to Mrs Caro ….
COULD. NOT. BE. HAPPIER.
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The Future
Because a first date, a second date, many more dates, a few very sad family bereavements, a marriage, a redundancy and selling one property wasn’t quite enough to keep us busy over the last 18 months, we’ve decided on a move.
We’re on our way to Sweden!!
When I was made redundant at Brabham, I started applying for jobs locally but in the back of my mind, I also had thoughts about tapping into the international network and seeing if there might be any opportunities forthcoming in what’s become my second home.
It turns out there was. And it turns out that Caro was pretty keen to go exploring, too.
Consequently, we’re now in the middle of acquiring work permits, selling another property, packing up all our stuff and then flying 16,000kms to set up a new life together in Helsingborg.
No, I’m not returning to Koenigsegg (as many have asked). I’ll be working with a company called Abtery, who are involved in all sorts of electrification projects. Some of my old Koenigsegg (and even Saab!) colleagues are there and it’s going to be an absolute hoot. We can’t wait to get over there and immerse ourselves in fika, winter jackets, funny language and meatballs.
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Cars and Cameras
It used to be all cars. Now it’s cars and cameras. Lots of cameras.
Photography has pretty much taken over as the #1 hobby. Cameras are (mostly) cheaper, easier to take on holidays and tend to not break down as much as cars.
I say ‘mostly’ cheaper as I’ve taken a particular liking to Leica cameras. I now have three of them – an M8, M240 and SL2 – and too many lenses to mention.
I’ve also got on the recent trend towards film and have a Pentax 6×7 MLU, a Zeiss Ikon folding camera, a Holga, a Diana, and a beautiful wooden pinhole camera that I’m yet to put a roll of film through.
Cameras are so addictive.
On the car front, I’ve had an Alfa Romeo Giulietta QV for the last three years and it’s been absolutely superb. It’s quite an underrated little hot hatch, this.
Of course, now that we’re moving to Sweden, the Alfa is up for sale and we’ll have to go car shopping when we get there. I have a few options in mind and I might have to plumb the collective wisdom of the community to sort the wheat from the chaff.
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So, consider yourselves up to date.
If you’ve made it this far, I thank you. I hope to update this place much more often when we get north-side. I’ve missed it.
I often stand at the window of my sixth floor apartment with a cigarette and watch the people in the town square below. The reason for being there is the cigarette. The people-watching is just a fortunate byproduct. I like people more when I don’t have to interact with them or think about their acceptance.
I’ve seen people moving into the public toilet to sleep for the night. The disabled stall is the one to go for. It’s bigger. Last night I heard a sound like running water and eventually noticed the silhouette of a girl squatting in the shadows to pee. The public toilet was only 30 meters away (and unoccupied) but maybe she didn’t realise.
I see old men taking in the sun on the garden seats – sometimes for hours at a time. I see the young gather at night in their souped up Volvos and BMWs, gathering like a pack of wolves ready for the night’s hunt. I see toddlers play while parents check their phones.
A few days ago there were two young girls hanging around the parallel bars in the play area. They couldn’t have been any more than 9 or 10 years old. They were just fooling around and laughing until one of them broke into a song.
Their movements changed as they sang together. I don’t know what they were singing but it was obviously something they knew well. Oblivious to their surroundings, they started singing in unison loud enough to be heard six floors up. They were facing each other, dancing a routine they must have practiced a hundred times or more.
The routine ended in a hug. It wasn’t one of those lean-in-shoulders-touching hugs that friends give one another on the street. It was the type of full-bodied hug a 2-year-old would give to a parent in a moment of happy affection; unguarded, untainted, unaffected, pure. A complete hug. A little piece of bliss.
I don’t know if it was part of the routine or the natural conclusion of two best friends sharing a moment when they were as-one.
I stood there, smiled, and hoped for the latter.
I have no idea if they’ll remember that moment in the future. Was it the pure happiness that it looked like from above? What did they feel in that moment? Will they find that memory when they need it in the next 10, 20, 50 years?
And do those of us who have lost the freedom of youth get to experience that sort of unconscious joy ever again?
I think we might have just learned exactly when you should quit what was once a good thing.
Ken Block has released his Gymkhana 6 video, continuing a five year tradition of entertaining driving, copious amounts of tyre smoke and unabashed pre-Christmas product promotion.
Here it is:
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What do you think?
I can remember when Block’s videos were jaw-dropping and even quite funny. Personally speaking, this one felt like The Godfather III – it’s watchable, but not even close to the films that came before it.
When the TV show Happy Days was in its waning years a few decades ago, they had Fonzie on water skis jumping over a shark to create some tension and (they hoped), some interest. This is now considered the Gold Standard in doing ludicrous things in order to maintain interest.
Mr Block might want to consider doing his next Gymkhana video at a water park because Gymkhana 6 is more than just a bit tedious in comparison to episodes 1-5.
In fact, it’s not even as entertaining as a tribute/parody from a guy calling himself Ken Box, who whizzes around a warehouse in a Crazy Cart wrapped in a cardboard box.
Enjoy.
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I know. It’s all a bit frivolous and light weight. Feel free to make your arguments that I’m jumping the shark myself by writing this post.
I’ll try and get to something more engaging soon, I promise.
This is just a quick note to let you know that I’ve added a couple of new pages to the site.
I have a number of automotive theories and I’ve decided to document them on pages here so that I can refer back to them from time to time, with links to the theories that I’m working from.
They’re my automotive maxims. Before a Maxim was a men’s magazine or a fancy restaurant, it was a proverbial saying that outlined a basic truth. These are the automotive maxims I’m aiming for.
I have two maxims up on site at the moment: Vehicle Value Theory and Get The Best. I’m working on a third one called Flaw Theory, which will be complete whenever I can be bothered getting it done.
Please take a look if you feel so inclined. Comments are not open on those pages but you’re welcome to post any thoughts here. If you’ve got any suggestions for additional maxims then I’d be happy to hear those, too.
The maxim should be a conceptual rule that has been proven in your life on a consistent basis. It’s not an absolute and it is subject to exceptions, but in general terms it should be sound advice to live by when facing an automotive decision.
Jason Castriota’s Saab 9-3 replacement has been all over the web for the last few weeks. It’s been good to see the images get out there and the quality has steadily improved.
I’ve got a few thoughts about the car and I hope to share them some time soon but I need some time with Jason first, which has been difficult to organise since Geneva. Hopefully that’s a good sign.
What do you think about the pictures you’ve seen so far?
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If you own a Saab 99 Turbo then my advice is to either restore it or keep it in pristine condition. The 99 Turbo seems to be THE most collectable Saab at the moment thanks to its status as the beginning of Saab’s turbo revolution and its relative rarity. The wrap it got on Top Gear probably helped, too.
Exhibit #1 is this 99T that a mate in Sweden spotted for sale on Blocket this week for a cool 120,000SEK. That’s US$18,500 or 14,200 Euros at today’s rates.
Minty.
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Personally speaking, my gold-silver-bronze collectible Saabs would be the 99T, a Sonett and a Viggen.
Please don’t be angry that I left the 900 off that list. I’d gladly have a 900, too, but only after I took care of the first three.
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Things have been quiet here for the last week and for those who don’t already know why, here’s an explanation.
Last week I had the good fortune to get in touch with a motoring publication here in Australia and pitch some work to them. Their books were full in terms of full-time and freelance writers, but they were familiar with my background and were interested to get a first look at whatever I might be working on. I told them about a series i’ve been working on for a little while now and whilst there are no promises, we’ve worked together on Instalment #1 and it looks like they’re interested!!
I’m really excited at getting a toe in the front door. This development, along with a few other things, has kept me quite busy all week.
It also means that this site’s probably going to be pretty quiet for at least the next few weeks, maybe longer. It’s been an amazing week in terms of just learning how to write for a different audience. Blogging is such a me-focused activity (this post is a prime example). Even when you’re sharing news there’s always the personal interpretations that inevitably get thrown in. Writing for an unattached audience is a whole different ballgame and seeing the edits of my first article has driven home just how much I have to learn. The process has been very enriching.
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I’ve also got some editorial work to do for an old friend and that’s going to take some time, too. Very interesting stuff, though.
Add to that some website work with my nephew on MyTradeQuote and helping out Mrs Swade with PJ Paintings and my dance card is quite full.
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Then there’s the car shopping, which has been totally absorbing and frustrating all at the same time. I’ll spend some time on the latest contender tomorrow. The Alfa hasn’t sold yet, which is the frustrating part. In fact, there’s been barely any interest at all. It’s a good car, though, and it’ll sell eventually.
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If you’re looking for something to pass the time this weekend, DeutscheWelle has a great series of car videos on YouTube called Drive It!
They drive some modern cars but also some real classics in this series. Sample below.
It’s Christmas morning here in Australia – Merry Christmas to you all!!
Christmas means a lot of different things to different people and it’s especially so here in Australia. Whilst many of you northern hemisphere types are either having, or dreaming of, a White Christmas, the day itself here in Australia generally means shorts, t-shirt and maybe a big family meal eating outside in the sun.
Whatever Christmas/Festivus-for-the-rest-of-us/Hanukkah means to you, I hope it’s a wonderful day and that you get to spend it with the ones you love.
And after a year of transition and change in 2012, here’s to a better 2013 for everyone.
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One of my favourite Christmas memories in recent years comes from Carols by Candlelight, which is held in Melbourne on Christmas Eve every year and televised live around Australia.
The two guys you’re about to hear are Jimmy Barnes and David Campbell. Jimmy is pure, rolled gold music royalty here in Australia. He was the lead singer of a band called Cold Chisel in the 1970s and 80s and had a successful solo career for a few years after. David Campbell has forged a very successful music career of his own, mostly in theatre.
David Campbell is also Jimmy Barnes’ son.
David was born when Jimmy was quite young, before his rock career took off. The young David grew up with his mother, not really knowing his father at all until much later in life. He knew who he was but he didn’t know him, if you know what I mean. He was also wary of being ‘Jimmy Barnes son’ as an aspiring performer because he wanted to make it on his own merits.
This performance of You’ll Never Walk Alone is spine-tingling not only for the musical duet, but also for the uniting of estranged family. The kiss near the end of the song nearly makes me cry every time I see it.
To me, this is Christmas. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas.
I blacklisted my first Swadeology commenter this evening. Sad, but true.
A few words about comments – what’s OK and what’s not.
This is my personal site. It’s a hobby. I use this website to keep on writing in a post-Saab world because I enjoy the process. I enjoy the chance to catch up with friends in faraway places and have conversations with them on this site, something that I may not be able to do so easily by other means.
This is not a community where I have to try and be inclusive and sway people into behaving in a certain way for the benefit of others. If you act like an ass, you’ll be shown the door.
Most of the time the content is pretty harmless, but sometimes I cover topics that touch some raw nerves, as I did today. If that’s the case, be a little Fonzie. Be cool.
Feel free to agree or disagree with anything I write, but do it in a respectful way. If you want to insult or attack me, you’ll be shown the door (that’s not what happened in this instance).
Feel free to agree or disagree with other people in comments, but do it in a respectful way. If you want to insult or attack other people in comments, you’ll be shown the door (that IS what happened in this instance).
Everyone’s free to read and comment here, but be aware that I care for conduct at this site the same way I care about conduct in my home amongst my family and friends. I won’t put up with someone screaming and ranting any more than you would.
Earlier this week I interviewed Mikael Östlund from NEVS/Saab and I posted the text from that interview on this website. As has been my tradition since time immemorial, I also posted an accompanying piece with my thoughts on the substance of that interview.
In the last 24 hours, I’ve copped a fair hosing for those pieces, mostly on Saabs United. That’s OK. People will, and can, have their opinions and I’m pretty content with the state of my relationships in the world.
What I’d like to do now is give you some background on WHY I do things the way that I do, so you can perhaps understand what makes me tick.
