“Did you see Grace Jones” was the most popular conversation opener at last night’s “Sydney Festival Opening Night Party” at Hyde Park Barracks.
Damo and I arrived there just after eleven. Quite early really, as the main crowd didn’t really arrive until about 11.30. Once inside, we had a bite to eat, a drink, and a wander around to see who we knew. Whenever we met someone there was the obligatory review of Grace Jones’ performance, with all of them overwhelmingly positive.
The design for the party this year – with a backyard theme, complete with hills hoists – was great fun. The hills hoists, though, were quickly denuded of their tea-towels and festival t-shirts (“How very Sydney”, a friend commented). And related to that theme, there were BBQ sausages, which were very, very tasty.
The music this year didn’t do all that much for me, nor quite a few of my friends. “It’s FESTIVAL music”, one said with a derisiory tone. “ADELAIDE festival music”, he added. Another said, “Just because it’s in French doesn’t make it interesting…” Harsh! Still, the DJ’s were pretty good, with a heavily 60s/70s funk/soul influence in the music they played, though almost all of it was very contemporary. And although I didn’t make it to the dance floor (unlike last year), we had a good time soaking up the atmosphere.
And we left at about 2.00am remarkably sober. Middle-age must be catching up with me.
After waking up reasonably late at about 10.30, it’s been a fairly quiet day. I went out and bought a new fridge yesterday which Damo helped me get out of the box, install, and remove the old one. After a brief visit to the supermarket, and a quick bite to eat I’ve spent the day watching some television. I started to watch “Milk” featuring Sean Penn, but fell asleep on the couch after about half-an-hour. What I saw was quite good, I guess I was just a little tired this afternoon from the night before.
It’s mid-afternoon and I’m sitting at the kitchen table at Pat and Jack’s place in Lismore. Pat is sitting on the back verandah making her way through one of those “word game” books, and Jack is having a mid-afternoon nap on the couch. Pretty soon, we’ll be watching “The Chase” on Prime 7. This is a familiar routine for 2021, as I spent a fair amount of the year based in Lismore.
Since about the age of 18/19, I’ve been living away from Lismore. During my university years in Brisbane I was often back (most weekends, in fact). And then when I began pursuing my career in other parts of Australia, there was a long period of time where I only made it home once a year.
More recently I’ve tried to make it back two or three times each year, but it has been, generally speaking, only for a week at a time.
That all changed this year when I came home for a couple of weeks. Nancy had been ill for quite some time, and died in June, aged 75.
Nancy Ann Keaton (O’Brien)
I’d always planned to spend a couple of weeks here, helping out with various family activities. But then the COVID-lockdown hit Sydney. Faced with a choice of returning to Sydney, or staying here, I chose the latter.
A few weeks later, I didn’t have much choice, as Lismore, too, was forced into a lockdown. There was a period of time when people from Sydney weren’t allowed to travel to Regional NSW and vice-versa.
And so I settled fully back into the front bedroom of Pat and Jack’s place for both work and home. Pat even found an old desk which I could use (with a 1980’s map of the world featuring many countries which no longer exist). And suddenly, it was almost four months later!
I settled into a routine of doing family errands, picking up a daily coffee at the nearby coffee shop, and then at night, after dinner, we would watch Neighbours, Home & Away and NCIS. Jack used to fall asleep during NCIS. I really loved being back as part of my family on a more permanent basis, and also re-discovering my home town more as a “local” than as a “visitor”.
Travelling down the Wilson’s River, August 2021
Checking out the public art in Lismore
As the lockdowns began to lift, there was a window of opportunity for me to return home, which I did and settled back into life in Sydney.
“I’m sad that you’re going because I feel like we’ve just got to know you again properly”, Jack said to me, as I was farewelled at Ballina Airport a few months ago. It’s something which touched me then, and touches me still, a few months later.
As they’re both in the 70s/80s now, I have really treasured the opportunity to have been back with them, and spent some time (both quality and quantity) with them. In the midst of an otherwise terrible year for the world, I am truly grateful for the opportunity this year has unexpectedly provided us.
Family at Christmas
Aside from that, it’s been a fairly regular kind of year.
In January, I travelled to Canberra and Wagga, and then in October, Sue and I visited the Snowy Mountains.
Paddy’s Falls at Tumbarumba
Also this year, I participated in Mardi Gras, along with my awesome colleagues from ABC Pride, the staff-led diversity group.
And here I am, back in Lismore for New Years Eve. A few weeks ago I bought a ticket for the annual “Tropical Fruits Party” being held at Lismore Showground. At this stage (mid-afternoon), I’ve decided to stay home. Even though it’s a mostly outdoors event, I’m still worried about COVID. It’s not so much contracting COVID (I’m double-vaxxed), it’s the chance I could pass it on to others.
As we end the year, the world still seems pretty F$%%ed.
My niece in Brisbane asked a question on Facebook yesterday about whether she could fly in Queensland without being double-vaxxed. I stopped myself from commenting. The other day I learned my nephew “doesn’t believe in vaccination” to which I replied, “Well, he was also the idiot who thought it was a good idea to walk down in the floodwaters to check the power box when the power went off during the 2017 flood”. So much for genetic evolution.
I’m hoping that in 2022, we (as a nation, and as the world), will get out shit together. In some ways, COVID has given the world the opportunity to re-assess our lives, learn some things, and take action towards a better future. Sadly, I’m not seeing much evidence of that.
A few months ago, I was sitting around with some friends and solving the problems of the world, as you do. We all came to a conclusion that maybe we spend too much time reading the papers and not enough time reading the history books. You can learn a lot from history, can’t you? 100 years ago, we’re in the midst of a global pandemic. And we were seeing the rise of right wing nationalism around the world.
As people we seem to have the memories of goldfish, barely able to remember last week, let alone what happened last year or the year before.
Though I’m not much of a fan of Sean Micallef, I liked what he had to say on Twitter the other day : “The PM is keen for us not to look in the rear-view mirror but I think it’s sometimes helpful to check and see what you’ve just run over.”
“Do you mind if I sit down for a moment?”, I asked the woman sitting by herself at a table. “My grand-daughter’s just gone off to get some food, as I can’t get around much. But you can stay until she comes back.”, she said.
We started chatting about our lives, as you do. And when I told her what I did for a living, she asked if I knew such and such. “Yes, very well”, I told her. She then went on to tell me her husband had taught him when he and his family were living in Tennant Creek.
In the media, it’s common to try to pinpoint people you may have worked with. And, generally when you meet someone from a country town, and tell them where you’re from, the conversation of “do you know such and such” inevitably springs up. “People in cities ask you what you do for a living, people in country towns ask you where you’re from”, I’ve often noted.
I don’t know how many times I’ve been to Mindill Beach Markets in Darwin, but it’s quite a few. They’re most memorable for their food, and their sunsets. They also sell a lot of stuff which I generally describe as “stuff you can buy, but stuff you don’t need”. Well, aside from food, and today I enjoyed some pickled octopus and some home made sorbet.
I sent my friend Sue a photograph of the pickled octopus, as she and I are great fans of it. She’s coming to visit for a few days, is then headed on a tour to Kakadu, returning next week for some Darwin Festival and Art Fair activities with me.
One of the great things about Mindill Beach Markets is how people leave the markets momentarily to watch the sun set into the ocean. Taking photographs is something everyone at the markets seems to do.Though today’s sunset was good, for me it was nowhere as spectacular as the last time I saw it, last year, at low tide. How great is this photograph?
But of course, I’m here for work, and yesterday I managed to combine a bit of work and outdoors activity. A good mate from Sydney (a work colleague) is also here, heading off to the major Indigenous gathering, Garma.
The Drum in Darwin
The team from ABC TV’s “The Drum” is also going to Garma, and yesterday, they broadcast their program from the Darwin Waterfront.
Watching ABC TV’s “The Drum” go to air live from Darwin.Though it was a great show, we were slightly distracted by this going on in the background. Looks like such fun. They did it for most of the hour. Awfully tempting to join them.
Sue wants to know if we can do the same thing while she’s here. :):)
It’s thirty years since the decriminalisation of consensual male sex in New South Wales, and “some of the leading figures responsible for that change have all died in a six month period”, we were told by Murray Maclachlan at the Australian Homosexual History Conference held at Sydney’s University of Technology. He was referring to former politicians, Gough Whitlam, Neville Wran and Ron Mulock, and to the academic and homosexual activist, Lex Watson.
As a young man thirty years ago, first becoming aware of homosexual liberation politics, Lex was a name I knew well. He was the “go to” person for the mainstream media for discussion about homosexual law reform. It’s amazing to think it was only thirty years ago that you could go to gaol in NSW for gay sex. In fact, the laws were so incredibly odd that the penalty for homosexual rape in NSW was seven years, whereas the penalty of consensual homosexual sex was fourteen years (I don’t think I’ve misrepresented the case there).
At the conference a series of speakers spoke about the moves to homosexual law reform in the different states and territories during the 60s, 70s, and 80s. In some states and territories, the changes were as the result of the state government leading public opinion, in others, the politicians had to be dragged along by the sentiment of public opinion. In others still, it was a combination of both. And then you have Tasmania, where it was the result of strong action by a small group of activists, who had to take their battle internationally, before the long overdue change could occur back here.
The keynote speaker for the conference was the former politician, and now Age Discrimination Commissioner, Susan Ryan. She told the conference she had grown up in a fairly conservative Catholic family, and so it wasn’t until she went to university that she learned about homosexuals. “Camp as a row of tents was a phrase that was used at the time”, she told us, reflecting on both the negative and positive use of the phrase. Feminism informed her understanding of sexuality, she added. She spoke early in the piece about the political turmoil of early to mid 1970s, and how there was deep distrust of her in the heavily male-dominated Australian Labor Party. “There was a general view in the ALP in support of homosexual law reform, but there were fears about the political consequences”, she said. Forty years later, she pondered the opinion gap between the public and politicians on the issue of homosexual marriage, with a clear majority of Australians in favour of making the change. “The community won’t go backwards so the politicians will need to go forward”, she said. Now, as the Age Discrimination Commissioner, one of her major concerns are the issues facing older homosexual Australians in faith-based aged care. Though she says the sector says they don’t discriminate, she thinks that needs to be tested, though noting “there haven’t been any complaint yet”. During her speech, she reflected on the massive changes which have occurred in the last forty years, saying with a grin, “We used to say in the women’s movement how come they’ve done better than us?”.
It’s Monday night and I’m sitting at home just surfing the net and I’m kinda haunted at the moment by the sadness that a few people I know are feeling.
I received an email today from a friend who, twelve months ago, joined the “dark side” of public relations, about which she’s not happy. In fact, she’s quite depressed about things. I wrote back saying…
I hope the job situation for you works itself out. If there’s one really good thing about being “on the other side” is that you should really trust in your own integrity to know that you’re doing a good job from the “inside” (if you know what I mean)!
I also got an email the other day from a friend who is working overseas at the moment who told me…
Life is slowly slowly thawing after a protracted winter in the capital. It was the first Spring-feeling day two days ago, a lovely crisp 8 degrees. I had a big smile stuck to my face all day. Amazing what a bit of temperature does for the mood. Today back down to minus 3. Work is OKish. Sounds funny, but I’m at a stage where I’m learning things very quickly and I get bored very easily. Next challenge please! Bring it on. Ya know?
I wrote back, telling him…
What you said about the weather influencing your mood is soo true. A friend lived in Sweden a couple of years ago and she said it got to the point one day where she just burst into tears, after weeks of snow, and 4 hour days. “It happens to all the Australians who come here”, her boss declared, giving her a few days off to go and buy a sun lamp. Seriously, it works. And the thing about learning new things at work is that just when you think you’ve learned heaps, a new challenge suddenly presents itself. Last year there were a few occasions when I was cruising along and then all of a sudden I thought, “I can’t do this”, as something unexpected came along.
And then I read a post by Mark who is a very nice bloke living in Sydney, but who has lived in Perth most of his life. After a few months back in Perth, he’s arrived back in Sydney and is now feeling a little lonely. I actually thought about him over the weekend, recalling that twelve months ago, he’d gone to Fair Day and had seen the stall declaring the need for a “Clitocracy” (I’m still pondering how it’s pronounced, let alone where it’s found!). I thought for a moment on the weekend that maybe I should have invited him, but decided not to, thinking it probably wasn’t his thing anyway. But anyway, Mark is a really nice guy and I hope he gets through this difficult period, a period which I totally understand, given my experiences in Perth.
Speaking of Fair Day. The weekend was reasonably busy, with yesterday being the busiest of all, with a visit to Mardi Gras Fair Day. It was the first time I’ve been to Fair Day in years – maybe five or six years – but with a visitor, I thought it was a good thing to do. The heat, however, was almost unbearable and, after a couple of hours wandering around and drinking beers, we headed back home. Harley, whose blog I read, provided an interesting insight into Fair Day with this post in which he declared…
Sunday was Fair Day, a lazy daytime gathering where Sydney’s GLBT community and its elite mingle from across the VIP seclusion ropes. Crowds wear singlets, thongs and sunglasses – to show their muscles, affirm their aussieness, and hide from ex-trade respectively. A mere 20 minutes was all it took before I found myself too overwhelmed to stay. Agoraphobia agrees with me, but it was nice to see so many of young and old enjoying themselves.
Ok yeh, I wore thongs, but they weren’t glamorous ones, just the thongs I bought from Woolies in Darwin in 2002. And I have no muscles. And “ex trade”. Well, when approached to fill in a sexual health survey, I told the bloke “You’re assuming I have sex”… which gave him a laugh.
Harley is quite an interesting writer, with a good ability to combine the humorous and the touching. Today, he wrote about his feelings about the Mildura car crash story. In case you’ve missed the news, Grief turned to anger as a man appeared in a Victorian court charged with ploughing his car into a crowd of teenage partygoers, killing six.. He’s from Mildura, a town I know well, having lived nearby for a couple of years and having extended family in the area.
After expressing his initial reaction to the news being “just another car crash”, he wrote today that…
Not until much later did I fully recognise the connection of my home town. Those kids are ten years my junior, I don’t know any of them personally. But I know those families. I know those streets, and I know those parties. I’ve waited by an isolated road for a taxi at 1am, hours from home, watching the once-every-half-hour car drive by, and considering commencing the long walk home. I also know those schools. Ten years ago they would have been my friends. But I don’t know any of those kids, and I’m not one for gratuitous displays of consolation. Life carries on. Monday, lunch-time, Big City Boy walks into the empty bathroom and in the briefest lapse, Small Town Boy had his moment.
I know exactly what he means. Living in Sydney, one minute you think you’re the sophisticated urbanite, the next you realise, having grown up in the country you’re connected to something intangible which you sometimes forget. I won’t say deeper, however, as that implies people in the city don’t have that level of connection and of course they do, but in a different kind of way. Without wishing to oversimplify things, it’s like in Tenterfield Saddler when Peter Allen declares…
The grandson of George has been all around the world
And lives no special place
Changed his last name and he married a girl with an interesting face
He’d almost forgotten them both because in the life that he leads
There’s no where for George and his library or the son with his gun
To belong except in this song
Those memories of what it’s like to be a “small town boy” were also re-ignited by an email I received from Richard, a friend I met in Wagga Wagga, but who grew up in Lismore. He sent me an article from “The Northern Star” about the refurbishment of an old Lismore pub as a gay bar. Although it’s been “gay” for several years, new owners have spent a LOT of money refurbishig the place. I wrote back to Richard…
In some ways I have mixed feelings about what’s happened to the Winsome. It’s fabulous that it’s been renovated and the guy is putting money into the town and trying to build a sense of a gay “community”. But I also question some of the investment – I understand he’s turning upstairs into a gay sauna (hello??) – and whether or not it’s appropriate, imposing a city-based culture on the country. But by the same token, I guess there must be a demand/interest, so maybe it’s not so bad. But on the other hand, I found that, aged 40, the pub was going after a mucher younger clientelle and was not all that inclusive. And I also have those mixed feelings that a bit of history. I thought the previous refurbishment which modernised the pub, but which paid tribute to the history by keeping the old flood markers on the wall was appropriate. I’m not sure about this incarnation.
Nostalgia is an interesting thing, eh?
Sorry if this post has been a little bit down, because that’s not how I’m feeling right now. I’m feeling pretty good about life, which is a nice place to be. So I’ll leave you on a fun note, with a link to Melodifestivalen, the Swedish Eurovision Contest. If you want to find out wha’ts happening or to listen online, here’s the link. My favourite, by the way, is a track by Anna Sahlene, called “This Woman”. Totally fab!
Twenty years ago, or so, the ABC used to feature a state-based TV show called “Snapshot”. It went to air just before the 7.00pm news. Hosted by people from ABC Radio, it was a brief “what’s on” program, focussing on arts and cultural events happening in each state. Put simply, the radio presenter would come on, say hello, and then with vision overlay, talk about exhibitions and the like. I think it only went for a year or so, but I presented it over several weeks, and once, in a nightclub on Oxford Street, I had someone come up to me and ask “Aren’t you the guy from just before the news?”
Recently, I was surprised to discover this part of my short-lived TV career still existed in the ABC archives! There are no full episodes from what I can see, though I do have some video tape recordings somewhere. Instead, the archive features 34 minutes of out-takes, the raw recordings. Briefly looking back at the tape, I remembered I had to bring three shirts for five episodes to cover: Monday-Wednesday, Tuesday-Thursday and Friday. Although there are some good pieces to camera, there are also some terrible out-takes. As you’ll see from this short-clip, this is why I never pursued a career in TV, preferring radio instead.
Snapshot Blooper: In radio, we’re used to either reading a script or just talking. Having to remember a script is much harder.
Visiting the Wilsons River in Lismore, my hometown in Northern NSW, always stirs up a mix of emotions.
I remember a time in my childhood when the river was a true hub of activity, alive with people actually swimming in it, especially down at Simes Bridge – the one that links Lismore and North Lismore. Kids my age would fearlessly leap off that bridge, a thrill that seems incredibly reckless now, but back then, it was just part of our summer. You’d also see swimmers near the Ballina Street Bridge boat ramp.
And it wasn’t just swimming; I have clear recollections of water-skiers gliding across the surface, and the unique charm of the floating restaurant. Now, apart from the occasional boat, the river feels strangely empty.
That vibrant connection stands in stark contrast to the “complex relationship” Lismore now has with the Wilson’s River, a consequence of the massive and catastrophic floods of recent years – 2022 being particularly devastating, as I’ve written about previously.
It’s funny, growing up, we always called it the Richmond River. The name changed at some point, a detail I’ve read about a few times, but the exact reason escapes me now. Anyway, it’s the Wilsons River that now flows through Lismore today, meeting Leicester Creek. That confluence, that joining of the two waterways, is a significant factor in our ongoing flooding challenges.
The old NORCO factory, as viewed from the boat ramp on the Wilsons River
I also remember a time when you could simply walk down to the river from either side. Now, in many areas, that’s impossible due to overgrown trees or other obstructions.
The extensive planting of bamboo along the banks created a physical barrier, and the river began to feel increasingly cut off from Lismore. The construction of the Berlin Wall-like levee bank only reinforced that separation, creating a tangible distance.
The walking path near the Wilsons River at Lismore, with the Berlin Wall-like levee bank.
It’s a far cry from the past, when houses actually lined the riverbank, homes to families, often those with fewer resources or from the local Aboriginal community. The floods washed most of that history away, and even the riverside RSL Club is now gone. There was so much life happening down there once.
Now, a ride along the river reveals that nice park, a spot where people can picnic and enjoy the quiet atmosphere. You see dog walkers and people using the path. It’s a lovely area, but it’s one of the few places left where you can truly get close to the river in Lismore.
After the all the floods, and with increased mobility – you can easily go for a swim at the beach or the pool, not in the river – people aren’t as inclined to head down to the river any more.
The only time people look closely at the river, these days, is when they’re driving over the bridge to see how far up the floods waters have come. Or to park their car in one of the riverside carparks, such as nearby the rowing club.
But despite the trauma, despite the flooding, it remains a beautiful river in my eyes.
The Wilsons River at Lismore, as viewed from the Ballina Street Bridge
Lismore was built where it is because of things like the timber and dairy industry. But even before European settlement, I’ve read Aboriginal people lived close to the river, except when it flooded, and they would relocate to higher ground. As many of the houses of North and South Lismore, the divide between those living on one side of the river and those living right up on the hill will increase, with fewer and fewer people less likely to have any daily contact with the river.
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I’m very impressed with the new fridge – is there actually any food in it?
I’m very impressed with the new fridge – is there actually any food in it?
I’ll take that as a rhetorical question more than anything:)