Life imitating art - or at least TV

For those of you that remember The Rockford Files between 1974-1980, starring that old stalwart James Garner, you may recall the peculiar living circumstances of the main character.

He lived in a 50' trailer.

Granted, he had a beachfront view, but it was still a trailer.

Now I'm not one to begrudge someone's 'alternative' life choices if they decide that conventional four walls doesn't suit them. In fact one of my best friends, Saul Danson (not his real name), is committed to his free-spirited lifestyle unconstrained by standard conventions. Never mind that it's been quite some years since his house bus has moved anywhere and the area around it is as well-developed as an established garden in front of any normal house.

But that's another story.

The reason I bring this up is that it may be my own future living arrangement. My host, Manson, appears to be looking for ways to get me from sleeping on his couch and has mooted this possibility.

I guess if it's good enough for Rockford...

No resemblance, living or dead

Many of you, no doubt, wonder exactly what a dodgy private investigator looks like.

Some of you seem to, mistakenly, think that they may bear a striking resemblence to myself. (That's nothing but slander, Saul Danson!)

Well, here is a stunning example of a truly dodgy PI. No resemblance whatsoever.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Christopher Butler (his real name). You can read all about him and his sordid tale in this article by Peter Chooks at Diablo Magazine.

Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated

Well, Dear Reader, you must excuse my tardiness in posting as I have been otherwise pre-occupied. You may have heard.

I was going to post my near-death experiences and tales of derring-do but, even a month on, I'm just tired of it all and prefer to think to the future rather than dwell on the past.

At 1251hrs on February 22, I made it out of my offices with literally the clothes on my back, the phone in my pocket, and my vehicle that was parked outside.

Actually, it was parked under the rickety fire escape and I was very surprised (and relieved) to find that the stairs hadn't collapsed on top of it. By all laws of probability, they should have.

Unfortunately, the scant items I left with pretty much comprised all my worldly possessions as the central city was locked down shortly thereafter, and I was unable to return. Not only are my offices and residence inside the designated red-zone, there is also a 'no-go' area at the heart of that area where, you guessed it, lies the building that once was dubbed "The Fortress".

That's where everything of substance I own, professionally and personally, remains.

All my wonderful tools. And notebooks. Oh, the humanity...

I have no idea when, or even if, I will be allowed to return and try to salvage anything. I don't even know if the building is still standing or whether it has been hurriedly demolished.

At the moment I am couch-surfing and trying to restart the business as best I can. To that end, I have scrounged together some items and now can boast a fully-mobile office. I can send and receive emails and faxes from the front seat of my car, scan documents with my hand-held scanner, and print up to 290 A4 sheets on my Canon Pixma ip100 portable printer.

I doubt I'll be working out of an office any time soon.

However, for the legalities of holding the necessary licences, I must have a place from which I conduct business - where said licences must be displayed. It's the law. Apparantly, 'of no fixed abode' just doesn't pass muster so I am on the hunt for a kindly and hospitable host who will be willing to put my licences up somewhere in their fine establishment.

Then I really would be that stereotypical PI who works out of a bar or cafe, kind of like Parker Kane. (In case you didn't see that particular gem, he had a whole booth at the diner).

I would try a strip club but, unfortunately, it was a couple of doors down from my office. I'd been given a full guided tour through it the day before, by sheer coincidence. For 'research' purposes only, you understand. 

While things are about as bad as they can get, I can't help but feel things will be better than before, in time. If I can survive this, the result will be a leaner and more efficient business.

So enough with the doom and gloom, I'm actually excited about what the future may hold - but I do hope I can at least rescue some of my personal possessions. It's not fun living out of a few plastic bags.

And on that note, please consider the recent events in Japan. If you are able, please make a donation.

Thank you.