MY FUTURE

Post 7 - February 2nd 2023

Now for something totally different on the blog with today's post ...

To lighten things up I have added this little JonnyG 'memory' written at the time I was doing the Saturday Satire way back in March 2018 ... some of you will have read this before, some not, but I will post here as originally written 5 years ago ...

Just hope it adds some fun to my blog, enjoy the read and thank-you for checking in ... woof, woof

MY FUTURE

To my family, friends and judgmental people …

We live in a time of great social and moral change, a time where the boundaries for society are continually being moved as diversity and political correctness take over our world.

The world of today is different to the one we knew, is it better, I am thinking not. The changes to society appear too great.

I mean, sometimes change is good, sometimes it is awkward.

For me, I am about to make some dramatic life changes that will not be easy, change is not normally my strength. I will disappoint some I’m sure with my decisions, shock some I’m sure, please a few and generally leave some just simply confused by my lifestyle choice.

And some will simply judge me.

As footy season 2018 approaches the media is covering, for some reason, Woman’s AFL. In the WAFL the media tell a story of a bloke, who identifies as a woman, he wishes to play in the woman’s AFL league. Maybe it is because he cannot cut it in the real league, maybe he thinks he can get a kick easier in the woman’s league, who knows.

Although this lad is a big boy who looks like a boy and sounds like a boy, he is certain that he is a woman. Certain that he identifies as a woman so now he believes he can simply play with the girls, at footy. He can simply belt and crunch the girls with his massive size advantage and in this case, it will not be viewed as domestic violence.

It seems the key for this bloke to his changing sides so to speak is that; because he ‘identifies’ as a woman, he now believes he is a woman. Simple as that.

If you identify it seems, then you are.

Well, brace for this family, I am about to make a change as well, a significant life identifying change.

Truth is, I believe I no longer identify as a man, nope, out with the man bit.

I now identify as a greyhound.

So, from this moment on I wish to be known by my greyhound racing name, Jonny Caviar (no relation to Black).

Those who know me will be aware of my lifetime love for greyhound racing.

I have been a greyhound owner, a greyhound trainer, a greyhound racing writer in the Murdoch press and many other publications, a greyhound announcer with the ABC and on commercial radio, a greyhound commentator at racetracks in four states across Australia and I have been a greyhound administrator in various forms.

But that is all in the past, now I simply wish to be a greyhound.

I know I identify as a greyhound, so I wish to transition. Like the footy bloke, it is a simple choice. I identify as a greyhound, so now I can be, in society what I identify as.

But is it that simple? Life can be difficult, being accepted as different can be difficult. A man transitioning to be a greyhound should be straight forward hey!

So, this morning I decided to start my new life identifying as a greyhound by making a call to the South Australian Greyhound Racing Control Board to register as a racing greyhound.

The lady who took my call was very sweet, be it a touch confused but generally accepted my call in humourist good faith. Once I explained who I used to be, who I now identify as and what I wished to do, after an awkward silence and some laughter she seemed to be reluctantly helpful.

Although at first, she said it was not possible for me to be a greyhound because I was actually a man. Just an Aussie bloke trying to be a greyhound. It is just silly she said.

So, I mentioned to her this was a lifestyle change, I identified as a greyhound and I wish to be acknowledged as one. I told her she hurt my feelings with her rejection and her laughter because I have rights to identify as anyone I wish. Sure, I was born a man, but I was not a man any longer, I now identify as a greyhound.

That seemed to work. Sort of.

“Oh golly, messy, but ok, let’s do a little test” she said. “So, if you think you are a greyhound, how many legs do you have?” …

I said, “It’s not that I think I am a greyhound, it’s that I identify as a greyhound; and the answer to your question is two” …

“Ah” she said quickly, “Well I am sorry but every other racing greyhound we have registered has four legs, you would not qualify because you are different” …

“Well,” I said, “I might be different in your eyes, but I am positive that can be fixed, I mean, surely I can take some medication, pop some pills, have an operation, get a couple of extra limbs and be like every other greyhound” …

There is that awkward silence from her again, but not to be beaten she said, “Well greyhounds have other defining characteristic, like, they have big ears, do you” …

“Yes,” I said quickly, “I have big ears” …

“But are they floppy big ears?” she added …

“Nope, they are just big ears” (shut-up Jan) …

I heard her sigh, then she asked, “And may I ask what you ate for breakfast this morning”

“Bacon and eggs” I said “but why does that matter?”

“Well, greyhound racing nationwide has just battled through a live animal bating saga, no greyhound can eat a live animal, like a pig” was her hurried response.

Another long silence, but it seems she was not giving in easily. “Ok, if you think you are a greyhound and not a man trying to be a greyhound, what noise do you make” …

“Oh, I can bark like a greyhound if that’s what you mean” I replied …

“Well, can you please give me an example of your, um, bark” she asked.

“Over the phone?” I said …

“Yep, please do” …

“Woof woof” ...

Now another awkward silence and I did believe I heard snickering in the background … finally she said, “Well you might identify as a greyhound, but you do not sound like a greyhound, you sound like a man pretending to be a greyhound, could you bark for me again.”

“Woof, woof” I said … ah, that was snickering, I am positive it was … now silence from her end, a long silence … finally she spoke, “Well, sir, really, you still sound like a man, not a greyhound” …

“I can work on that” I said, “and it’s not important how I sound, it’s not important what parts I do or don’t have, what is important is that I identify as a greyhound, so I wish to be a greyhound.”

She quickly said, “You cannot simply just change because you feel like it you know” …

“Well”, I said, “That is not so, many people have changed totally, look at Stan Grant ABC journalist, he was a white bloke but transitioned into a black fella, Michael Jackson was black and he became white, Bruce Jenner won an Olympic Gold Medal in 1976 at Munich as a bloke and later was voted as Vanity Fair Woman of the Year in the US after having the snip, Patrick Dangerfield was a Crow, he became a Cat and he blossomed, Umpire Vernon, well bad example … but do I need to go on?” I said.

She sighed again, “Well, as a greyhound you would need to be muzzled at all times and kept on a leash.”

“All good, I was married once so I understand being muzzled and kept on a leash” I replied.

She added, “And you would need to live in a kennel.”

“As I said, I was married once, actually married twice to be more accurate, anyhow, I spent many a night as a married man in the doghouse so I am sure I will handle that fine” …

“And would we have to register you as a stud dog?” she asked next, and I do think there was a hint of snickering in her tone …

“Well, I have a doodle if that’s what you mean, but this is not about greyhound gender, I simply wish to be identified as a greyhound, gender neutral. But for the record, what would being a stud dog require me to do?”

“Oh” she replied, “you would have to mount a few bitches.”

Easy I thought, that’s possible, tick that one off …

“And what about a stud fee?” she said next … a fee I thought, that’s odd, normally it’s just a meal at the Woody, maybe a movie, a few drinks and then we see what happens next …

More silence from her end.

“Do you chase cars?” she finally asked.

“No” I said, “That would be just stupid, look, I have always wondered why dogs chase cars, I mean what are they going to do with the car if they catch it”?

“Well,” she said, then another long silence, “Considering everything you have told me about you being a man who wishes to be greyhound, I don’t seriously think I can accept your registration to be a racing greyhound, I believe you are really a man pretending to be a greyhound.”

“I know my rights” I fired back, “You have again hurt my feelings, I can identify as anything I like, and I identify as a greyhound. I will take you to the greyhound anti-discrimination board, then you will see I’m serious, I have feelings you know lady.”

“Oh, boo-hoo” she said, “bite me”.

“Woof” I said as I hung up. Ah, there it is again, that was snickering I could hear from her end as I put the phone down.

Being different is hard, change is not easy, I may not look like a greyhound, I may not sound like a greyhound, but I identify as a greyhound. That’s all that matters. Why could this woman not understand that?

Society in general is simply cruel to anyone who identifies as being different.

So, I think Jonny Caviar will just take himself outside and cock his leg on a bush, have a pee, curl up on his mat, go to sleep and let this day end.

In tough times, the world has a saying, 'It's a dog’s life' and yeah, I am just beginning to see what that really looks like ...

And now to add a JonnyG classic ... a friend had a dog that would go sit in the corner every time the doorbell rang ... he was a boxer ...