#gc 600

[sagarsedemac-blog]

SEDEMAC GC600 is a series of modern Genset Controllers with user-friendly HMI and full graphics LCD.

[blogfromdownunda]

Chasing the Goose

Ann Marie and I decided on our latest adventure that I have a habit of dragging my friends on these wild goose chases. For example, our latest adventure started off as me asking Ann Marie, "hey, I read somewhere that there's a surf competition going on at the Gold Coast in October. I don't know if its actually happening or not but lets go!" 

And that, my friends, is how Ann Marie, Kristin, Rebecca, Carley, Kelsey and I found ourselves checking into the Coolongatta Sands Hostel Thursday evening. It was at the reception desk where the second half of this goose chase began. A man came up to us and struck up a casual conversation. After talking to him for a few minutes I tuned him out to listen to what the desk attendant was saying about our room keys, but when I heard Kristin say, "I don't know them, but Amy might," I turned back around with a startled, "huh?!" 

"There's a concert up in Surfer's Paradise on Saturday for the car races and this band called Good Charlotte is headlining. I figured I'd let you girls know," he said. Good Charlotte? GOOD CHARLOTTE?! My jaw literally hit the floor. You can't even imagine the level of excitement my inner 13 year-old fan-girl self hit. (Except Molly. She's the only one who could understand). You see, the thing about Good Charlotte is that back when I was 12, about 8 years ago, they were my first punk show. Theirs was the first CD that I ever bought. They were my first band crushes, my first heroes, and therefore it doesn't matter what anybody says about Good Charlotte, they will always be my first main squeeze. 

"Oh boy," the nameless man had said, looking at me with concern. "Is she going to cry?" Yes, 'tis true. I was so excited that I started tearing up. Picture Kristin Bell and the Sloth youtube video. THAT'S how excited I was. 

Friday morning rolled around and I texted a Canadian I had met at The Beer Garden over spring break. He was the guy who had been traveling around S.E. Asia and had sold all of his clothes and guitar to get to Australia. I haven't asked him if I could write about him, and for precautions so he doesn't lose his job I'll just say that his name is Canada. I asked him if he was going to the show, and he said that he would try to find us tickets and to sit tight until Saturday. So that's what I did. I laid out on the beach for the next day and a half, awaiting the text message that would say that we were in. It wasn't until I was boarding the bus to go to Surfer's Paradise that I received a text that said, "I only found one ticket, but no worries, I have a plan." 

I arrived at Surfer's Paradise, and met up with Canada outside of the Hard Rock Cafe. 

"This is what I found out," he explained. "I have one ticket so you're set no matter what. They'll probably punch a hole in the ticket and then put a pink wristband on you, so I'm thinking that I'll find someone who went to the races but isn't going to the concert and take their wristband. Then you'll pass me the ticket through the fence and I'll go through as though I've left and am coming back."

Flawless. How could this not work?

"I am not getting deported for this," I told him as we chowed down on some good ol' Subway. 

"Oh, relax. I've only been in trouble with the police like, three times. And one of those times doesn't even count because the car wasn't technically stolen." Great. I'm running through the streets of Surfer's Paradise with a criminal. This was definitely going to backfire. 

We spent the next three or so hours hunting for a wristband before finally coming across an extremely considerate and fellow punk who, after slight persuasion, ripped the wristband off and wished us good luck. 

"Oh my God this might actually work," I exclaimed as we headed to Canada's apartment to super glue the wristband back together on his wrist. It only cost him three arm hairs and the first layer of skin on his wrist, but we managed to make it look as though the wristband had never been ripped off. Solid.

"Let's go find Fluffy," I joked as we left his apartment. Now for phase two.

We decided to walk to the concert rather than take a bus and it wasn't until we passed signs for The Spit that I realized how far we were. The Spit was where the girls and I had our surf lessons during spring break and when we had asked how to get there everyone told us that it was definitely not within walking distance. We met quite the characters on our long journey - the drunk chick who told us that we'd only make it to the concert if we ran there, the security guard who directed us in the proper direction and, of course, Nameless Man #2 and his "girl whose a friend because I couldn't date someone so bitchy." We struck up a conversation with Nameless Man #2 and explained our predicament to him.

"Well, I'll help you anyway I can." He assured as we approached the fence. "How about we three go through and we'll either slip you the ticket or, if they don't stamp the ticket, I'll leave and come back through with both mine and my friends' ticket." Again; how could it not work? 

So in we went and much to my excitement they didn't stamp the card. My excitement was immediately diminished by the fact that they wrapped a neon yellow wristband around my wrist. Neon yellow. After we had spent the entire night hunting for a pink wristband. Ruh roh. 

Nameless Woman and I sat down on a small hill just inside the entrance to keep an eye on the stage and the gates at the same time while Nameless Man went to go slip Canada the ticket. 

"I can't believe I made it," I gushed to the woman. "I don't even care what happens for the rest of the night! I'm so excited!" As soon as those words were out of my mouth, I knew I would regret them. I'm always the one to jinx the party, and when I saw Nameless Man #2 coming back towards us without Canada, I knew it was bad news. 

"They double-fenced the perimeter and said if I leave I can't come back in." The flaw in our plan. Nameless Man #2 went off to call Canada and explain our latest problem and as I sat there with the opening chords of The Anthem echoing from the stage, it dawned on me. 

"I HAVE PLAN C!" I yelled, jumping up to take off after Nameless Man #2. It was simple, really. All the Nameless Man had to do was rip off his wristband, leave and then come back and get a new wristband! Yeah! Before I could find Nameless Man #2, he found me with Canada smiling broadly beside him. They had realized the same thing that I had. We had done it. We had caught the goose. 

The show itself was amazing. It instantly brought me back to being in Jr. High School, lying on Kelly's floor, listening to The Young and Hopeless on repeat and staring at the Good Charlotte posters and magazine cut-outs on her wall. I couldn't keep the smile off of my face the entire time. Goosebumps occupied my flesh the entire time. These guys were my first heroes. It was amazing that I got to experience this in Australia. Nothing in the world will ever top my stay here, but you can bet that I will always be chasing that damn goose. 

edit: The surf competition never happened. We checked out the beach where it was rumored to be, but there was nothing going on. So it goes.