No Ghosts In Victoria

Having travelled a ways out of Melbourne for a buck's weekend with some hard drinking friends the night before this challenge, constructing a costume was not the simplest of goals. But, as the morning fog (both literal and figurative) began to clear, some helpful suggestions came forth and a fantastic costume was hastily assembled.

The Seattle (or, indeed, Seatle) sign was constructed from an eviscerated beer carton.
Fifteen minutes before the challenge was due to be executed, we headed down to Great Ocean Road to prepare the costume. Several locals watched from their ocean view balconies, some offering encouraging wolf whistles and saucy comments.

Being a foggy Saturday morning, there was not a great deal of passing traffic, but at the appointed hour, I dutifully extended a thumb and busted my finest moonwalk. The roadside gravel was well suited to this most excellent of bipedal acts, allowing for smooth movement.

Alas, no cars passed while I was moonwalking, but I did remain by the side of the road long enough to be passed by several cars. Some even honked and waved in support of this vitally important challenge. None stopped to offer a lift, but it was clear that all were appreciative of the lengths gone to to ensure a safe and poltergeist free day.

Poltergeist-Free in the Northern Hemi

I must say, it's extremely satisfying to do your part to thwart the efforts of poltergeists. Allow me to relay the events leading up to the successful completion of the mission.


I made the costume the day before the event. Rather than come up with an entire ensemble, I decided to focus on accessories. The foil cane was fairly easy to make. The giant hat, however, was a bit more challenging. After a couple of failed attempts, I enlisted the help of my kind and patient wife who was instrumental in shaping the final design. The rest of my attire was just meant to give context to my fancy accessories. I also must mention the shoes. The hideous, silver monstrosities I was wearing are perhaps the ugliest footwear in the history of civilization. Believe it or not they are basketball shoes — strange, bulbous, space-age basketball shoes made by Adidas for Kobe Bryant in 2002. I am certain that there are no better shoes for moonwalking than these.


On the day of the challenge, my wife and I walked toward North 88th Street with trepidation. The weather was extremely blustery. Would my hat be able to withstand the powerful gusts? As the countdown began, I donned the hat and at the strike of 17:08 began my moonwalk. Fortunately, the wind remained calm and the challenge went off without a hitch. Unfortunately, I was not offered a ride to Melbourne, Australia. Too bad, because I would have been willing to pay a few bucks for gas.

Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Greetings fellow inhabitants of Planet Earth,

In less than a month our great planet will experience a magnificent and potentially catastrophic event that will undoubtedly have a profound effect on each and every one of you. As usual, we've crunched the numbers, extrapolated the variables and divided everything by pi. To our surprise, the data indicates that we must meet in the Northern Hemisphere. That's right, Gibson-OZ and Gibson-US will temporarily occupy the same time zone. We know it sounds crazy, but it's a chance we have to take.

But, before we get ahead of ourselves, there is one more challenge to be completed before Gibson-OZ boards that fateful jet to the US. Our poltergeist detectors indicate that this year on All Hallows Eve an army of disgruntled spirits intends to do all manner of mischief, including but not limited to, disabling street lights, knocking over garbage cans and eating the spleens of children. In order to combat this horrendous horde we must execute the following challenge:

1) Fashion a crude costume out of newspaper and aluminum foil (kyrptonite for poltergeists).
2) Make a hitchhiking sign, featuring the other Gibson's location (Gibson-OZ will be in Melbourne, AUS)
3) At precisely 0:08 GMT on October 31st, while wearing the costume, moonwalk next to a busy street, while holding the sign and extending a thumb.
4) Document the event with photo and/or video.

If all goes according to plan your Halloween will be pleasant and poltergeist-free. Oh and one final note: The owls are not what they seem.

Southern Hemisphere Spared...Literally

If there is one thing I have learned from this challenge, it's that bowling alleys ain't what they used to be. If Strike Bowling Bar at Fox Studios in Sydney is anything to go by, bowling alleys are now a great place to kick on of a Saturday morning, once your favourite dance club has closed - loud music, video screens everywhere, low lighting, comfortable booths and a bit of smashed food on the carpet. In fact, if it weren't for the hoards of pre-teens tearing around, corralled unsuccessfully by the occasional haggard looking parent/guardian, I would've been tempted to whip my shirt off and have a dance on the nearest table.

Anyway, I arrived at the venue with my video documentarian (a.k.a. my wife) and my stills photographer (our next door neighbour) at 1150. After slipping on our space age bowling shoes (mine on the wrong feet, of course), we proceeded to our lane.


I selected a ball with an 11 on it, representing the equal halves of this challenge. I was also wearing a blue bowling style shirt to mark the occasion.

As the clock ticked over to 1202, my documentarians activated their devices and I propelled my ball down the lane. The release of the ball felt good and my ball-side foot seemed to instinctively swing around behind the other in a classic 'I know what I'm doing here, I bowl all the time' action. Note also the woman in the video clip on the right, seemingly cheering the ball on. It was a charmed moment.


The ball continued straight and true right up to the last, and ultimately felled 7 of the 10 pins.


Mainly to complete the challenge, but also a little bit to celebrate this most unlikely of results, I fell to the floor and busted what could accurately be described as one of the most ungainly backspin of all time. In doing so, I strained at least 5 muscles in my back. Indeed, as I write this, my right hamstring and left hip are still in shock.


Alas, it was discovered after this most physically destructive of challenges that the video taking machine failed in its operation. Thankfully, the trusty camera did its thing and we are able to bring still images to you.

For the statisticians out there, my next ball knocked over the remaining pins, giving me a spare. The next frame also produced a spare, but the following 8 frames saw some of the most mediocre action ever to grace the lanes. I ended up with a total score of 80, but played my part in correcting the earth's spin and thus the time anomaly.

Challenges Met, Obstacles Overcome

Most people that show up to Kenmore Lanes on a Friday evening are looking to have a little fun and unwind from a long week of work. I however, was there for business. Little did they know that the man in lane 48 was there on a mission. A mission that would have a major impact of each and every one of their Miller High Life drinking lives.

Upon arrival I secured a lane, laced up my shoes and chose a serviceable, 14 pound house ball with a swirling pink pattern. My wife and camerawoman then brought over two oat sodas to ease our tension as the time drew near. We nonchalantly bowled a few frames, as if nothing extraordinary were about to happen, and then with 5 minutes until the appointed time we began our preparations. First, I removed my shoes and put them on the opposite feet. Next we framed the shot and took a test video to ensure that our equipment was in working order. Finally I stepped onto the hardwood, pink ball in hand, and awaited the countdown.
The pressure was immense. As I stood there I realized that I had neglected to practice with this awkward shoe configuration. I'd also learned through some last minute calculations that rolling a gutterball could wreak havoc on the Earth's orbit, sending us hurtling into space away from the sun. Add to that the distraction of a small boy kicking his bowling ball in the lane next to me and you can understand my concern.

With two seconds until the appointed time, I made my approach, releasing the ball at precisely 19:02 PST. I could immediately tell that the ball was not headed for the gutter and despite being a bit left of center it managed to dislodge 7 pins. But I had no time to celebrate as it was now time to speed the Earth's rotation by executing a precise backspin. As you can see in the video, my awkward backspin achieved exactly one revolution which, despite its apparent failure, was actually the exact speed and rotation required for the proper adjustment to the Earth's rotation.

Having succeeded in my half of the mission I finished the game, posting a very respectable (for me) 128 total score. But it's not all about me (or Gibson-OZ). The real winner here is mankind. We are only answering our calling — fighting against the forces that threaten to disrupt order in the universe, humble servants to the greater good. Amen.

(No) Time To Spare

Friends,

Mounting data compiled by ourselves, in conjunction with the International Earth Rotation and Reference Systems Service, appears to indicate a growing menace from forces almost beyond our control - time itself.

Boiling down a complex model to simple terms, it goes something like this: for the past several decades, leap seconds have been quietly introduced to compensate for the fact that the earth's rotation speed is diminishing. And while theoretical proposals and conceptual remedies have been on the international table for some time, no real action has taken place.

Well, it's time to end the inaction.

On Saturday, September 26th (GMT), the Gibsons will take the following steps to speed up the earth and put an end to international debate:

1) Having secured a lane at bowling alleys in Seattle and Sydney, we will ensure our bowling shoes are worn on the opposite feet to those intended. This will ensure that both hemispheres are in sync for a short period (Seriously, it will. We've done the math).
2) At 0202 GMT (1202 on Saturday in Sydney, 1902 on Friday in Seattle), we both bowl a ball (representing the earth) at a full rack of 12 10 pins.
3) No matter what the result of the bowl is, we will drop to the floor and do an old school backspin. This crucial move should serve to speed the earth's rotation just enough to eliminate the need for leap seconds in the future.
4) Photo and/or video evidence will be provided both of the pins left standing after the bowl, and of the subsequent backspin.

**NOTE** It has been brought to our attention that a full rack of bowling pins contains 10, not 12 pins. It seems that while our math is infallible when it comes to complex equations, mere double digit integers sometimes fall through the cracks.

Gibson Honoured In Western Australia

Honouring a Gibson who walked so tall was no mean feat. Aside from all the usual logistics involved in our challenges, I knew that plant, toy and location selection would be paramount. Thankfully, plant selection was carried out by my mother - Leptospermum scoparium 'An evergreen, medium sized shrub with [fittingly] an upright habit.'


An ideal location was found in the form of a little native garden adjoined Robertson Park in Northbridge, W.A. - a popular dog walking thoroughfare - where I undertook planting just before 0100 GMT (0900 Perth time).


The ball selected for the job cost a princely $2 from one of those stores where everything's from China. It features images of tasty bones and dogs of all varieties, which are raised from the ball in relief. This not only adds aesthetic value, but also ensures that an owner's hand may remain relatively slobber free after an extensive fetch session. The squeak was a little shrill, but satisfactory.


At the prescribed hour, I stood on my toes and gave 3 squeaks in Gibson's honour. As I had no photographic assistant, I had to take the photo myself during the first squeak, so you'll just have to trust that I was on my toes (note the legs bent at the knees to compensate for camera weight). A passing dog walker stopped to give me a strange look, but her pooch seemed to sense what was going on and lingered to add some fertilizer to a nearby plant. Following the event, a strange old lady asked from over her fence what I was doing. I replied 'I'm just doing it for Gibson.' She stared at me.


Owing to the harsh light, this photo of the plant in situ is a little unclear. However, it does give you an idea of the marvelous environs in which the event took place. I left the ball for a passing pooch and set out for home.

Gibson was a giant amongst giants. His passing is a blow to Gibsons everywhere and he will be missed. Hopefully his Australian plant will flourish. Next time I'm back in Western Australia, I will post a special update on its progress.