I learned tonight that one of the very compelling stories about the recent US presidential election was only half a story.
The way it was often portrayed was that Obama had either used grass-roots organisationsor online social networks like Facebook to mount the basis for his campaign.
I learned tonight the Obama Campaign also made 60-million “personal contacts”, mostly over the telephone, as a follow up to people joinging online groups.
Tonight Andrew and I went to see the documentary of, “First Stop Iowa” made by the Sydney-based “journalism couple”, John Barron and Rebecca Glen.
I’ve known John for several years, and Rebecca less so. I’ve known, however, both have an interest in the political process. And with a US election in the winds, they decided to travel back and forth to America to make a documentary about the election, and why, in particular, small states like Iowa are so important.
They’ve located the history of why in the 1968 assassinations of King and Kennedy, and the decision soon afterwards by the Democrats to re-organise the way in which they selected candidates for President.
What I found most surprising (and quite heartening) was the role personal contact still plays in American politics. Even though they spend hundreds of millions (billions?) of dollars on the campaign for President, it mostly still comes down to personal contact, was the essential argument of the film.
That’s why, they argued Obama, Clinton, Biden and others went to the Iowa State Fair (and why Obama took his family on the dodgem cars). And that’s why everyone online registration was followed up with a phone call.
On a more systemic level, the documentary also explained how the nomination process often comes down to a group of people in a room “swapping sides” if their candidate fails to gain a 15% quota.
Like most things these days, it could have done with a bit of a chop here and there, but mostly it was a really interesting insight into a political process that’s both similar and different to our own.
Two weeks ago, when I was in Lismore we had a minor-moderate flood. There’s a chance Lismore will flood again over the next few days at a moderate-major level. In anticipation, my niece, Karran went to the nearby Rocky Creek Dam and sent me some photographs to illustrate the depth of the storage at the moment. These are photographs only for the water-storage enthusiast :) For the non-enthusiast, they’ll give you an idea of how full the storages are in Northern NSW right now, what the weather’s like, and how green everything is. It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?
Rocky Creek Dam is located within the Whian Whian State Forest approximately 20km north of Lismore. Water stored in the dam is used to supply drinking water to the Northern Rivers area stretching from Woodburn in the south, north to Ocean Shores and west to Lismore. This supply is supplemented by Emigrant Creek Dam, the Wilsons River Source and several bore sites
Chatting with a friend down the street this morning, and we were trying to remember the last time Crown Street was closed to traffic for an event. We concluded it was sometime in the early 2000s. It was before the Surry Hills Festival moved to Ward Park and the Shannon Reserve. There was a time when Crown Street was closed off for the festival, there were bands and DJs playing, and you could even dance in the street. Fond memories.
There was no dancing on the street today, but Crown Street (between Cleveland and Foveux) was closed off. There were lots of outdoor eateries, a few market stalls, and there were lots and lots of people, enjoying the festivities.
I was a little surprised at how many people there were. Even though I try to keep up to date with local activities, I didn’t know anything about the City of Sydney “Summer Streets” festivities until I saw the road closure signs. And I wasn’t really aware of how big it was going to be until I saw people setting things up this morning.
Despite lots of signs of social distancing, it was pretty crowded. So I kept my face mask on while I was walking around.
There was such a good vibe. I hope this becomes a regular thing
In contrast to the last couple of days, I never wandered very far today from the place where I’m staying at Meville, Johannesburg.
After breakfast, I stayed indoors, spending most of the morning in preparation for my presentations at the Radio Days Jo’burg Conference, being held at Wits University Radio Academy over the next few days.
“You know what it’s like being a journalist? You need a deadline”, I said to the conference organiser, Franz Kruger at tonight’s welcome dinner. So with a deadline in my mind, I spent the morning going through my papers, and reading them out loud several times looking for timing, tone, the right wording and so on. There’s nothing like hearing the spoken being read out loud to help you realise quickly where some things make sense, and when other things need greater clarity.
After a couple of days of listening to variations of the South African accent, for example, I realised today I would need to be a little clearer in the way I pronounced the words “airtime” and “eartime”. Although similar in meaning, there are still semantic differences, and when I said them out loud today I suddenly realised they could sound completely identical to someone not used to the Australian accent, and the way we mangle our vowels.
There’s another Australian speaking at the conference, a lovely bloke called Sam Cavanagh (who I met a couple of months ago at Radio Days Europe) who will talk about the “fan model” of listenership adopted by Hamish and Andy. I also met an Australian woman at tonight’s dinner. As she’s been living out of Australia for a number of years (in parts of Africa, and currently in Paris), I could no longer hear the familiar tones of an Australian accent in her voice, though the others at the table said they definitely could.
The issue of language came up a fair bit in discussion tonight. I was sitting next to a bloke at dinner who is the manager of a community radio station in a rural part of South Africa. He told us his radio station broadcasts in six of the eleven official national languages of South Africa. When I asked him how many he spoke himself, he told us “all six”. I also chatted for a while to a bloke who runs the national radio awards here in South Africa, and he told me about the complex business of judging a competition where entries are accepted in all of the eleven official national languages. I thought being involved in the organisation of the “ABC Local Radio Awards” was tough :)
Aside from preparation for the conference (which will dominate this blog for the next couple of days), I made a brief visit to a shopping centre here in Jo’burg. I’ve been invited to be a guest on a local television program here which focuses on activities in the media. So I decided I better pop into town to buy a couple of shirts to choose from. Although it’s been clear “dress” for the conference is informal, I decided I needed something a little more “flash” than what I’ve brought with me. I’ve picked up a couple of nice shirts for a very reasonable price.
The health and welfare of the Mandela family dominates the news.
I also decided a haircut and beard trim would be a good idea. Vanity is thy name. After a bit of chit-chat about the weather, the guy cutting my hair leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I do not think our great former President will make it to his birthday later this month.” He told me thought the nation was preparing itself for the inevitable death of Nelson Mandela, and that he thought he should be allowed to die with dignity. “It’s cruel keeping him alive the way they are”, he told me, adding he thought it was time for him to be with God, and “for all of us to continue to be like him, but to let him go.”
On television this morning they were, not surprisingly, still talking about Mandela/Madiba. They had a guest on (I didn’t catch his name), talking about the cultural protocols which he said were being ignored by the international media currently outside the hospital in Pretoria where Mandela is staying. He was quite clear about who he thought should be making decisions about Mandela’s health and who he thought who was “appropriate” to speak on these issues. “We need to be more proactive in telling people in the international media about these cultural issues”, the television presenter agreed.
Meanwhile, at tonight’s dinner Australian politics also got a mention, as a bloke visiting from the United States asked me to explain what happened with Julia Gillard and Kevin Rudd. “You mean news had spread that far?”, I asked, feeling a slight embarrassment about the apparent triviality of Australian politics compared with everything else happening in the world.
Over lunch (at The Tilbury) my good friend and I chatted about swimming. She’s quite a serious ocean swimmer whereas I’m more of a casual paddler. As a child, I was actually a little scared of the water, and was never a good swimmer at all. Getting my 50m medal was a major achievement, and the idea of the 1500m was well beyond my dreams. In the last few years, however, I’ve taken up swimming again, though noting it’s more “recreational” “pleasurable” than anything to do with fitness, for example. And it’s all in the “safe” environment of a swimming pool. But as I looked down at the water at Woolloomooloo, I contemplated something more adventurous : swimming in the harbour. The water was looked so clean. Gorgeous weather. Lovely day.
Over a drink or two the other night, I was chatting with a friend and colleague about my brief theatrical career.
All throughout high school, I was always one of the kids chosen to “read aloud” when we studied English.
And of course, with my radio background, there was always a bit of drama here and there.
But it wasn’t until I lived in Renmark that I appeared on stage – properly – for the very first time.
Having met some “theatrical types”, I was encouraged to go along to auditon for the Renmark Theatre Group, a local amateur group.
The first production I was involved in was a pantomime: Jack and the Beanstalk which, I recall, went on for an inordinately long time. As I remember now, I think the production probably went three hours or so.
Renmark Theatre Group – Jack and the beanstalk
And of course, I was selected for the role of Jack’s mother. Very camp. Lots of fun.
The only other production I was involved in was a play called “Bananas” which was a political critique about racism, Nazism and all that kind of thing.
I have some very fond memories of my time with the Renmark Theatre Group, and went looking online last night to see if I could find anything about the group, including hopefully something about my time there.
I do, however, have a photograph from the Murray Pioneer in 1990 (I think)…
I showed the photograph to my friend and colleague today at work. She thought it was a hoot, and so do I.
There are four main reasons why you should go to a bar when you’re travelling.
They generally have the best toilets, especially if you’re travelling in a country where you know the toilet regime is a little “challenging” to “western sensitivities”.
At the end of a long hard day walkig and sighteeing, sometimes a refreshing drink can be the perfect way to end the way. On this trip, we’ve already visited a few roof-top bars which have been excellent.
This is the view from the Social Club Saigon Rooftop Bar. https://www.facebook.com/socialclubsgn/ Though there was no sunset today (wet season rain), we loved seeing some city views, the drinks were excellent, and the staff friendly and knowledgeable.
3. To meet people that doesn’t involve a tourist queue.
In the midst of yesterday’s rainstorm, I called in to a small bar in Ho Chi Minh City called Terroir Bar.
The bar has only been open for about three months according to the owner, an American who ewas doing some “business” on his laptop while his wife, Vietnamese, served behind the counter.
When I entered I was the only person at the bar, and so he said, “If you don’t like the music, I’m happy to put on something else”. “Oh no, I love 70s disco”, I told him. He responded that he did too, growing up in Detroit.
He told me he and his wife met in (I think) 2017 while he was working here.
We had a nice chat about life in Ho Chi Minh City. In particular, some of the differences with Hanoi (being the city of government), and Ho Chi Minh (being the most populaous).
As with any new bar, he told me things had been going slowly, but they had benefited from being an overflow from “Frolic’, an LGBTQIA+ bar located next door.
After a little while someone else entered the bar and joined the conversation. They told us they were from Bangkok, and were also here for some sightseeing.
Though I wasn’t entirely sure of how they identified gender-wise (I assumed they were born female), it didn’t surprise me we both later found ourselves at the next door bar.
Both the staff and customers at Frolic were in their twenties, with the exception of a couple of older men. I MIGHT have been the oldest.
To my surprise, people were smoking (both the staff and clientelle). After almost 30 years of non-smoking bars in Australia, it still surprises me to go into a bar where it occurs. I think the last time I entered a smoking bar was in the United States, and before that, maybe in the Czech Republic. Almost instantly, my clothes began to stink!
As with every other bar in the world, these days, people seemed more interested in what was happening on their phones than what was happening around them.
I enjoyed a couple of Mojitos, and a bit of crowd watching, before heading home.
Earlier, I had also chatted to a couple of people on a tourist bus.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”, a middle aged woman asked me. “Of course not, and if your partner wants to sit here, I’m happy to move”, I told her. “We’re just friends”, the man said, “And this is my husband”. They were visiting from Taiwan.
There was so much I wanted to ask them about being gay in Taiwan (they only had marriage equality laws a couple of years ago), and of course about Taiwan and the threat from China. In the end, there are some conversations that can only go a little way on a tourist bus.
In both instances, it was a great way to see a bit of life in Ho Chih Minh City (formerly known as Saigon) that goes beyond what you see in the tourist queues.
In contrast to the other cities we have visited on this trip, this feels very much like a “global city” in the same was as you night encounter in Shanghai. With global store brands, and a great variety of restaurant styles.
And reason Number 4?
4. Sometimes a bar literally screams out “come on in”.
Souvenir drink coaster
When I handed over my passport to the Vietnamese behind the bar she looked, at first curious. And then saw my name “Oh my goodness”, she said, “handing around my passport to the other staff”. In honour of a visit by a member of the O’Brien family (I thought of joking “traditional owners”, but that would have made no sense to them), she handed me my first souvenir from this trip.
