It’s one of those beautiful autumn days, with just a slight chill in the air. As we approach winter, the leaves on the trees in my street have begun to fall. And yet, there’s still a warmth in the air, and so there’s an odd combination of people walking around in shorts and jeans, t-shirts and jackets.
It’s been a reasonably busy and social week, catching up for drinks on a couple of occasions. I joke with people at work that I have friends who are alcoholics and that I only have a drink with them to keep them on the straight and narrow. “So it’s like you’re providing a community service?”, joked one of my colleagues, adding “You should get an Order of Australia Medal for all the community service you do”.
Some of the things I planned to do this week, I didn’t, mostly through a lack of enthusiasm. I also had a sick day from work, hoping to head off a bug which has been making me feel lethargic all week. Work as usual remains busy.
Today and tomorrow are mostly days for house cleaning ahead of hosting my Eurovision bash tomorrow night which sounds like it will be well-attended with a fun bunch of people.
As I made my way home on the bus tonight I checked Twitter to see if anyone else had been to see Lily Tomlin and what they thought. I tend to follow a wide ranging group of people – I see as many people tweeting about rugby union matches as I do about Mardi Gras – and so wasn’t expecting to be inundated, but I was expecting to see something. The only comment I saw was from one of the lame-arsed young gay comedians I follow who tweeted something about how her comedy was stuck in the 70s.
Instantly, I had to respond with a comment about how she was both several times the age, and several times as funny as a lot of today’s so-called comedians. I mean, Lily Tomlin is a %^%&*(ing comic legend! And her characters are multi-dimensional, have something to say, and have made a real difference. And they’re funny!
Her best known character, the telephone operator who doesn’t help (yes, long before Little Britain) remained contemporary in tonight’s show as she took on the American health system with a biting commentary. In between these character spots, Lily can be a little eratic. Some things she says – like her comments on gay marriage – seemed to come from nowhere. They were still relevant and funny, but seemingly with little context.
A favourite spot was her Q&A session at the end where she answers written down audience member questions. Her response to the question “have you had sex with Oprah?” was “are you kidding? Gayle would break my back” which got a huge laugh. On stage, aged seventy-one, she remains a power-house: the show goes close to two hours with only a couple of “video breaks”.
Lismore has long had a reputation for its big heart, but exploring it from a new perspective – thanks to my sister’s mobility scooter – really drove home how special this town is.
In the days and weeks following the catastrophic floods, “hearts” started appearing on homes and businesses around Lismore.
The “Love More” ethos that emerged after the floods is clearly more than just a slogan. It’s woven into the fabric of the community.
As I scootered around, I was struck by the visible signs of inclusion and diversity everywhere I looked.
These three photos capture just a glimpse of that, representing the disability, Indigenous, and LGBTQIA+ communities that thrive here.
The Koori Mail NewspaperThe “Silent Hands Cafe” is an Auslan friendly space for the deaf community and everyone else.The Boys hairdressing salon, demonstrating LGBTQIA+ support
Lately I’ve been watching a fair bit of television and have noticed Clive Palmer and Gina Reinhardt have been appearing on our screens on awful lot. “Who cares what they have to say, aside from being rich?”, friends have asked me.
And that’s when I’ve told them of the “Five P’s” that I was told about many years ago as a young journalist/broadcaster. I was sharing a house with a former university professor in journalism and he told me about the Five P’s and the Three B’s. The Three B’s were the three principles of tabloid newspapers – Bingo, Booze and Broads. The Five P’s were the (perceived) top five five news interests of people (in order) – Princes, Prices, People, Places and Politics.
Most of the categories are fairly clear, but it’s important to recognise “Princes” is a broad category that goes beyond the clearly self-evident likes of Queen Elizabeth and Princess Diana. In an Australian context, Princes could also include people like Kerry Packer, Gina Reinhardt, Alan Bond, Clive Palmer, various sporting heroes and others. They’re the people that, right or wrong, people want to hear about. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Gina Reinhardt 4 Corners program on Monday night was one the highest rating shows, for example, whereas the Four Corners program last year about live exports which, though, poorly rating, was an important program.
So yeah, even if they’re not especially articulated, I thought you might be interested in the “Five P’s” of journalism which may or may not be expressed, but which may be behind a lot of what you see on the teev.
“We can fit you in, but you’ll need to wait about an hour. Can I take your mobile number?” I over-heard the waiter say to the woman standing in front of me. It’s the expression you hear an awful lot in Sydney, these days, as so many restaurants have abandoned the booking system. Thankfully, since there were just two of us, they were able to accommodate us fairly easily. “My friend will be here shortly”, I re-assured the waiter. “Don’t worry. We can find a space for you next to the Brussel sprouts”, she replied.
Fratelli Fresh
As well as being a fabulous Italian restaurant, Fratelli Fresh is also a fabulous gourmet supermarket. In practice, that meant they’ve placed a few additional tables away from the main restaurant area deep within the aisles of the supermarket. “What have you got over there?”, I asked my friend. While she was seated next to a few supermarket tubs of eggplant and parsnip, I was seated next to a large supermarket tub of Brussel sprouts.
In contrast to the experience of many Australians of a similar age and background, I grew up loving Brussel sprouts. As school friends, and later adult friends, complained about Brussel sprouts, I could never quite understand their apparent disgust. I’ve never been able to understand “fussy eaters”. Even now, when I hear people say things like, “I don’t eat vegetables”, or “I don’t eat avocado” (or similar phrases), I’ve never really understood how you could be like that.
I can’t remember where I was, but the other week I overheard a father order on behalf of his young son and tell the waiter… “He’ll have the same but without vegetables”. As I’ve never been a parent, I don’t really understand the difficulties of ordering food for children, but when I heard the father say that I felt slightly angry. If I was slightly more crazy than I am, I would have shouted out an instruction that the son would be having vegetables, and he wouldn’t be leaving the restaurant until he cleaned the plate.
Although you sometimes hear stories about children forced by their parents to “clean the plate”, I was never like that. My mum would often joke that, as a child, I was a “garbage guts”. I could be guaranteed to clean off the contents of my plate, as well as any other nearby plate. Growing up I had a niece who hated peas. As her mother went through the ritual of forcing my niece to clean off the plate and eat the peas, I felt myself wanting to say, “Don’t make her eat the peas. Just give them to me. I’ll finish off the plate…”
Which, in a roundabout way, brings me back to the Brussel sprouts. Although my friend and I only dine two or three times a year at Fratelli Fresh, there’s one dish they have which we always enjoy and order. It’s called a Shaved Brussel Sprout Salad with Pancetta and Poached Egg, and although the recipe is available on their website, I thought I’d share it here also.
Shaved Brussel Sprout Salad with Pancetta and Poached Egg
Ingredients 60g baby cavolo nero leaves 100g Brussel sprouts, trimmed and shaved finely 1 medium Spanish onion 200ml lemon vinaigrette 1 head cos lettuce, trimmed and washed 6 slices prosciutto, baked until crispy 60g parmigiano reggiano, grated Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper 4 soft poached eggs 20ml balsamic vinegar
Method 1. Place cavolo nero, sprouts and onion in a mixing bowl. 2. Season and dress with 2/3 of the vinaigrette. Set aside for 10 minutes. 3. Add cos, prosciutto, cheese and remaining vinaigrette. Toss gently and season to taste. Divide onto 4 plates and top each with an egg. 4. Drizzle over balsamic and serve immediately.
Shaved Brussel Sprout Salad with Pancetta and Poached Egg
I had a long weekend. I took some seriously good drugs and I didn’t go to work. The drugs were, in order, Cephalexin, Panadol and, best of all, Voltaren Rapid. Oh my goodness, that has got to be the best drug ever.
The pain relief was necessary to deal with the sebaceous cyst I have on my back. Well, I’ve had it for several years actually. A white lump of puss or something gross, wrapped up in a little sack is how it’s generally described on the internet.
The advice from doctors throughout the years has always been, “you could get it removed if you want, or not worry about it, unless, of course, it becomes infected”. Well, guess what? In the last week or so, it has become infected, and I’ve been in a state of discomfort since about last Wednesday, and in quite serious pain since last Friday.
On Saturday morning I went to my local doctor whose reaction was simple and straightforward. “Shit”, he said, “we’ll have to get you to a surgeon”. It gets complicated, apparently, because it’s close to my spine. He quickly booked me in to see a surgeon on Wednesday for an initial consultation, ahead of surgery. He also prescribed a dose of antibiotics.
I woke this morning still in a fair bit of pain, but decided to head into work anyway. About half way to work I decided I would stop trying to be a martyr, and so went back to the doctor who prescribed some serious pain relief.
Voltaren – The Wonder Drug
I slept most of the day, which is understandable given the standard of daytime television. Oh my goodness, how bad is it? Thank goodness for Joe O’Brien and the team from ABC News 24 who kept me entertained and informed.
By late afternoon the drugs had well and truly kicked in, and so I decided to go ahead with my plan to meet Colin to see the movie, “Weekend” showing at The Chauvel.
Scene from Weekend
In short, it’s a film about two blokes who meet at a club, come home, have sex, and spend a really intimate weekend together. By intimate, I don’t just mean in a sexual manner. I mean they really start to get to know each other, and maybe even fall a little bit in love.
One of them, however, declares emphatically he doesn’t want a relationship (possibly due to a broken heart, though he won’t admit it), while the other probably finds falling in love difficult because he doesn’t really feel all that comfortable in his skin about being gay. (I’m guy #1).
It’s an English film, so it doesn’t get caught up in the sentimentality you might expect from a film from the United States for example. It’s also genuinely funny in parts and a few of the lines from the film genuinely gave me a few laughs. The two actors who play the lead characters are both believable. They’re also both very cute, with one bearing a resemblance to Marcus Graham. I think I’d like to see it again when it comes out on DVD.
Meanwhile, I’m back at home in a drug-induced haze :)
Damien and I were watching Channel 10 News with Sandra Sully when news broke of the 9/11 attacks. That was our routine at the time: watch the news, and then head off to bed. I still remember the slightly frazzled look on Sandra’s face as she looked down and read from a piece of paper – obviously too soon to add to the auto-cue – about the attacks.
We stayed watching the coverage for several hours. We spoke to friends on the phone. We drank a bottle of wine. We worried for a while this was going to happen all around the world: New York, Washington, London, Paris, and eventually Sydney. The thought of an attack on Sydney went through our minds for quite some time, especially as we lived so close to the CBD. Weeks later, there were the anthrax scares,
I woke early the next morning, and when I went to work, I had to confront – as a broadcaster – the issue of what to do on the radio on the radio that day. It had been a big week already with the collapse of Ansett Airlines. And now, there a major world story with implications for all. About half of each hour that I was on the radio was dedicated to national news coverage. As I recall, for the remainder of each hour we continued to talk about what had occurred, interviewing people we knew were there – such as a delegation of NSW Farmers – and giving listeners the opportunity to express their feelings.
And on the following day, we had planned an outside broadcast from the Illawarra Folk Festival. As it turned out, it was probably a good thing. The half-hour news specials continued, and in between, we featured a bunch of folk musicians who sang about peace. It was the right combination, I think, in hindsight.
In the UK, it’s the July 2007 events that remain in their minds. In Australia (and Indonesia), it’s the Bali Bombings that remains in our minds.
As I sit and watch tonight’s commemoration I’m reminded of that night ten years ago and think about how much the world has changed. The internet has changed the world with an increasing level of internationalism, which is a good thing. But we’ve also seen a dramatic increase in racism and nationalism, evident in the recent killings in Norway. We’ve also seen some polarisation between religious groups, but also increasing levels of inter-faith activity.
In the same way that Nazism and Communism changed the world, and yet we “recovered”, let’s hope the same thing happens again.
The video of Sandra Sully crossing to the attacks is on Youtube, though unfortunately the sound is really crap.
