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These 4 little adorable “mates” are celebrating a very important day in their country today, Australia Day . It is January 26, 2009 today so that would make Australia only 12 years younger than our neighbours to the south in the United States. And 79 years older than this country, Canada.

I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t know it was their birthday. I know my countries and I know the United States, too. But I think I understand the reason why we know so little about our very distant relative and that is exactly it—it’s long way to New South Wales.

We were both pink on the map when we spent that week studying Australia in geography class. Both countries have historical ties to the British Empire. Moses wasn’t paying attention that day, as usual. He wanted to go to basket weaving class.

This isn’t just another excuse for a “sickie” (Aussie slang for what we call a sick day, you know, I don’t feel like going into work so I’m feeling kinda’ sick cough cough). It’s an important day for them just like Canada Day and the 4th of July for these two geographically close countries.

I was lucky enough to make a new Aussie friend about 10 days ago on the Internet. Her first words were “Sure why not”. MW doesn’t realize it, but she has become my personal ambassador to her country. She’s off celebrating this special day with family at a big get together just like we do, sharing all kinds of wonderful homemade tucker. And for us, it’s the middle of the winter but it’s the middle of the summer there, of course.

MW offers this introduction in her Facebook profile.

Want to know what I’m like? I’m an Aussie, from convict and free settler stock. I live on the biggest and most beautifullest(if thats a word) island on this planet and couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. Lucky Bugga aren’t I.

I understand beautifullest perfectly—it’s more beautiful than beautiful. It also gives you the sense that Aussie’s aren’t into being real formal and they are very proud of their country. In fact, I joke with MW that she is “refreshingly easy” because she is. Any time, I have a question about something, her response is very detailed and explained in sufficient detail to make me get a good feeling for what the answer really means, not just the facts.

Just this week I was asking my car guy, who moved from Venezuela 11 years ago, why he picked Canada as his new home with all the good options out there. Why not Australia? He lifted his eyebrows and said “I thought of moving there but Canada was closer. I don’t like to fly so I can just handle a 5 hour flight to visit my parents. Seventeen hours is too much for me.” And not to mention the International Date Line.

So it looks to me that the Internet is making that 17 hours less significant. Google translate isn’t much help though. Even if it could help with Aussie slang, it still can’t do what those “mates” in the picture and MW do and that’s smile from their toes.

So “Happy Aussie Day, Mate”. Try not to burn yourself on the barbie and you and your mates have a bee’s knees day. I’m working on being a likeable dag and not the one that sticks to the jumbuck’s wool. But I do feel a lot like the last one.

Happy 221.

It was for this guy.

And if you don’t know who Dale Earnhardt Sr. was, you should get out of your cave more often. Yes I am joking, but he is perhaps the most famous race car driver that ever lived and sadly, he died doing what he loved to do, race stock cars.

In the field of auto racing the number 3 is Senior’s for eternity. No one wants to use it in the upper ranks of the sport because it would be considered a sign of disrespect to a fallen comrade. The only acceptable person to take this number might be his son Dale Earnhardt, Jr. but I don’t think he would accept it willingly. I think Junior would prefer to be number 8 but, due to contractual agreements, he has to settle on 88. It is more important to him that he be part of a motivated and forward thinking team than to just stay someplace where he could keep the number 8.

When I think of 3 in other contexts, here’s some of the things that came to mind.

• 3 Coins In A Fountain
• 3 Men & A Baby
• Three Dog Night
• The Three Musketeers

So I looked up the number 3 in a numerology related website—starlightnumerology. A lot of the things they said were true of my personality, but so were 4 and 8 and 11. I think that is part of getting older. You become more well-rounded in your personality because you have experienced more and you learn how to apply the new stuff you learned.

It’s Ernie the accountant at work again. He’s never satisfied if he can’t put something in a box—left column, right column, black, white, 6, nationality, etc. etc. It’s very much the same in psychology where they try to place you into only 4 boxes—thinker, relater, socializer, director. Thank goodness people aren’t that simple!

And only 3 coins means it’s a really new fountain, and 7 dogs would make it a much colder night than 3 and I’d feel a whole lot better going into battle with 4,302 Musketeers. The book and movie would be a lot longer, of course.

The significance of the number 3 in the lead of this story is not the number. It is the man that sat in the seat that drove that car on many Sundays in racetracks throughout the world. My only wish is that he wasn’t so stuck in his ways and wore his restraint system properly. He might have been able to share another magical moment with his son like he did when Junior won his first big race. Junior might one day become a father too and Grandpa won’t be there to spoil the dickens out of the little beater.

So a number is a number. You use it to measure something relative to something else. Human beings are what counts.

I learned that the other day while taking an actual long walk and a lot of other things that I didn’t know about myself or maybe that I just need to be reminded of from time to time. Nothing like a good whack on the side of the head.

The Long Walk is about the cheapest thing you can do for maintaining good health—both physical and mental. I used to jog a lot but it was a lot harder than walking on some things like the knees and back and the pocket book. Good running shoes aren’t cheap and you have to wear good ones or you get shin splints and make it even harder on your knees and back.

So part of getting older is the getting wiser thing. You are reminded of the old doctor joke. You know the one. “Doc, it hurts when I go like this.” And the doctor replies with “So don’t go like that.” (For me, it’s always in the voice of Mel Brooks aka Melvin Kaminsky. He takes some really interesting routes on his walks)

And you have to try to remove the things that might confuse you in the Long Walk like I did with my multi-focal’s. They kept changing my focal point so much that I actually felt off balance. So next time, I will try the actual Long Walk with my glasses tucked inside my pocket.

And so I walk a lot more now. The actual long walk is something I need to do more often, but here are some of the other ways I take long walks.

Writing is a long walk. I try it in different “settings” so that it doesn’t get stale. Sometimes I write at night with only the light of the computer screen glaring back at me. Sometimes I have the television turned on but it is more like a radio because I haven’t moved it into a better viewing position. The television is talking to an empty couch a lot more these days.

And sometimes I have iTunes or Jango playing in the background because music will take you to places you haven’t been or have just forgotten. And sometimes, I slide the patio door open to hear the sounds of the world around me. And other times, I lay down on the couch with no radio or television playing and just plug in the recharger like I do so often with mouse batteries. (Use rechargeable batteries. “Mum” will thank you for it. see Listen…)

And I know I will discover more ways to take a Long Walk. Certainly the Internet is a really big one along with games that I play on the computer, especially the ones I make up for myself.

And other times the Long Walk is a short walk just outside my front door. I talk with my neighbours or a stranger that is at my door. They both probably think I’m maybe kinda’ little strange like I’m on something.

Yep, it’s called life. I’m understanding it better now. And like all long walks, it feels good.

Sometimes people think that there must be something wrong with you when you act that way. I think it has a lot to do with the fact that they haven’t experienced that sensation in life yet.

And I don’t get so discouraged when people don’t respond to my emails or Facebook messages or telephone calls. You see they are on their own Long Walks. Eventually, our paths will cross. When they’re ready, or maybe you could go on a walk and try to find them. Just a thought.