beautiful sydney day
This is a live photo post from victoria park. Its such a beautiful day in sydney. And since i have a few hours off work this afternoon ive come to the park for a few hours of relaxation in the sunshine.
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Eurovision 2009
“Är ni svensk?”, I was asked by a dark-haired bloke who came up to me at The Flinders Hotel Eurovision Night.
“What?”, I replied, and then soon realised he was speaking to me in Swedish.
“No”, I told him (på svenska), I’m Australian but I’m learning Swedish.
I could understand his confusion, as I was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the word “Sverige”, and was standing next to Louisa’s friend, Andrew who was dressed entirely in blue and yellow/gold, the colours of the Swedish flag.
We continued to chat in Swedish for 5-10 minutes, and I was so incredibly excited, so incredibly happy that I could understand the conversation and respond accordingly. Somehow, all of my troubles with verbs became insignificant as I realised I could actually maintain a basic conversation.
I discovered he was Brazilian by birth, but had lived in Sweden for five years. And did I mention he was cute?
He wasn’t the only Swedish person there for the night, though, as there was another guy in a Swedish t-shirt (I heard him speak, he was German), along with lots of other people with Swedish flags.
“Why is everyone supporting Sweden?”, I was asked by a woman as I walked by to get a drink. Although I was tempted to use the phrase, “because Swedish is the international language of the homosexual. A kind of Esperanto for us all”, I just uttered something brief along the lines of “who else is there to support?”.
And it is about supporting, in the same sense as you support a football team. Not having any recent European heritage (it was 1864 when my ancestor James O’Brien arrived from Ireland), I figure it was always important just to pick a team and stick to them.
My mate Louisa who has attended Eurovision on a couple of occasions noted one significant difference though. If it’s a soccer match and you come across a supporter of a different team, there’s generally an indifference if not outright hostility. But when you go to Eurovision and meet someone from a different “team” you often find yourself putting your arms around them. And if you found their entry this year was crap, you could always find something nice to say about an entry several years ago.
Normally I’d host a Eurovision Party at my place, such as in 2008 and 2007, but this year, we thought we’d do something different. I wrote to a couple of gay venues in town asking if they had planned some kind of Eurovision festivity. The manager of The Flinders wrote back quickly (which was great) saying yes, though I’ve yet to hear anything from the other venues I wrote to.
And so we went along to The Flinders for their Eurovision Night.
Before I discuss the night itself, I thought I’d offer a couple of thoughts on highlight performances from the night…
* Sverige: I’m not sure why but her performance of La Voix lacked a little of the excitement of this year’s Melodifestivalen. Although she wasn’t my preferred Swedish song, I still thought she performed well, though not with the same level of enthusiasm as previously. She was a bit flat. Nonetheless, lots of screams of approval from the audience.
* Grekland: A song written by two Australians and performed by Sakis Rouvas (known throughout the night amongst my friends as “Sakis Mykok”). Memorably, every time he lifted his shirt, the audience at The Flinders was given a glimpse of abs. Very popular amongst the crowd attending.
* Norge: Predictably good and popular, and of course, the overall, clear winner.
* Storbritannien: Quite good, but it’s 2009 not 1985, so I’m not sure if Andrew Lloyd Webber was the right person to deliver a Eurovision hit. I mean, he had Dianne Warren writing the lyrics. And the vocalist was good. But it was all just a little dated in comparison with the rest of the songs competing. In 1985 it might have won…
* Tyskland: Surprisingly good, since Germany normally offers up terrible songs. Memorable. You could sing along. And there was a lot left to your imagination/fantasy by the name of the group which was “Alex Swings, Oscar Sings”. I wish!
* Litauen: I liked it the night before and still do.
* Moldavien: A funky folk dance in costume. Great stuff.
* Ryssland: They really didn’t want to win the contest again, did they?
The swimming pool sequence at the end was alarmingly erotic.
My friend Graeme has described the night as Euroshamble at The Flinders. Graeme always has stronger views on most subjects than I do. And on the Myers-Briggs scale, I’m guessing he’s off the radar on the J (judging) than I am as a virtual “flatliner” on most things.
Still, I thought it was a night which promised a lot, but delivered little. A couple of things here and there would have helped. The drag queen could have done a classic Eurovision number, instead of a generic drag number. They could have had “voting forms” with a prize/ceremony at the end. I don’t understand why Madonna was the music before and after the screening. A few classic Eurovision numbers (and there are many) would have set the scene etc. The half-heartedness of it all was best summed up by the projection of the event onto a wrinkly old tarp, as you’ll see from the attached photograph.
I sense the crowd was mostly interested in Eurovision, though I’m not convinced the organisers were as hard-core. I think they missed an opportunity with this one, as we won’t be returning next year.
Anyway, next year, I’ll be in Oslo.
P.S. The one saving grace for the night? The terrible hosts from the semi-finals who looked like Tom and Nicole were replaced by a rather spunky bloke who looked like he could have been a Baldwin Brother, and some chick who was indistinguishable from any other Eurovision Song Contest. My favourite hosts remain the Greek Will & Grace lookalikes from 2006 as well as Renars Kaupers who co-hosted the competition from Latvia in 2003. He was hillarious in a good way.
How are you coping with the heat?
“How are you coping with the heat?” is a question that has been coming my way from family, friends and colleagues over the past few days. Navigating the recent warm weather in Sydney has been a bit of a challenge for me, with a prosthetic leg, and a liner and socks for my leg, resulting in a few weeks filled with perspiration. In fact, there was a day recently after a session with my physiotherapist where I removed my leg, and a significant amount of sweat dropped on the floor. We shared a laugh and a mutual “ew gross” at the situation. I now keep a towel handy for our sessions.
Since mid-January, I’ve been observing Wednesdays as a “rest day” as part of my gradual “return to work plan” following last year’s medical issues. Though the day has primarily been devoted to catching up on medical appointments and some much-needed sleep, the physical and emotional toll of undergoing an amputation, adapting to a prosthetic, and rejoining the workforce cannot be underestimated.
Discussing the possibility of increasing my workdays to four with my doctor, she regarded the idea skeptically. “Okay, that’s fine if you feel up to it, but if not, sticking to three days is perfectly reasonable with everything you’ve gone through,” she advised.
While I don’t urgently need to return to work, having accumulated plenty of “sick leave” during my time at the ABC since 1989, I recognize the importance of my mental health and rehabilitation in choosing to go back to the office rather than staying at home.
My current routine involves spending two or three days in the office, depending on how I feel, and working the rest from home. On some days, I’ve noticed myself starting to get a little tired in the mid-afternoon, an experience I shared with another colleague who wears prosthetic limbs during a recent meeting. We briefly connected over the shared fatigue, a blend of physical and mental exhaustion.
In many ways I feel like I need to “prove myself” again to my colleagues. Aged 58, and with a medical condition, there’s a fear deep down that some of my colleagues I’m biding time until a medically related retirement. “There’s plenty of fire in my belly”, I’ve told colleagues.
Others have told me to relax, and not to stress. There was one day last week when I did get a little stressed. Being away for six months, it took me longer to achieve something I would normally complete quickly. It wasn’t the physical situation that frustrated me, it’s the fact quite a few colleagues have left over the last six months, and I needed to establish new relationships. I was far more relaxed the next day after I was able to process the frustration I felt with my own performance.
In the past week, I attended the Lady Rizo show at the Sydney Festival. The performance, reminiscent of Bette Midler with its candid one-liners, and strong vocal performances, thoroughly impressed me.
I also had a lovely catchup with a couple of former colleagues. Roger Summerill enjoyed a long-time career in both commercial radio and the ABC, and has recently written and released a book about his experiences. As I worked closely with Roger at 702 ABC Sydney (ABC Radio Sydney), I got a few mentions in the book, and I helped “proof read / fact check” a few of the stories. We loved catching up with my friend Andrea Ho, who also gets a few mentions in the book. Over a great lunch, we remembered the good times we enjoyed, and maybe also shared a few stories that couldn’t appear for legal reasons!!
And then yesterday I caught up with a colleague who I’ve known for several years, but didn’t know also had a physical disability associated with his foot. It’s amazing how you can work with someone and not know. There’s another colleague who I’ve worked with for twenty years who also has a prosthetic limb. As I’d never seen her in a dress or shorts, I had no idea she had a prosthetic limb. Since we’ve started to know this about each other, we’ve started to share ideas, tips and so on. “How are you coping with the heat”?, seems to be the most common question that’s been asked.
Tropical Fruits NYE
“I’ll go there for an hour or two, right at the beginning of the night, before the crowds have arrived and I’ll be home by ten”, I thought to myself as walked to the Lismore Showground.
I have no idea how many times I’ve done that walk. Memorably though, there was an occasion when I was about seven or eight, and I walked three kilometres from the showground to home, all by myself. Quite a feat for such a young child.
I had gone to the annual show with Pat and Jack. I’d gone into the haunted house, and on walking out, I couldn’t find them. So I walked home.
Meanwhile, they were in such a panic. They had searched high and low. Announcements were put over the public address system. Eventually, they decided it was time to go to tell mum and dad what had happened. I can’t begin to imagine how they felt when they discovered I was safe and sound, and at home.
“I couldn’t find you so I walked home”, I told them in the cavalier way only a seven or eight year old could muster. I’ve always been quite independent!
Even with the increasing COVID numbers, and my concerns about attending, I thought it was worth giving making an effort to go to Tropical Fruits. Even though the event was limited to 1,000 people, I was still anxious about contracting the virus and maybe passing it on to others, despite my own double-vaxxed status.
In the end, it was the idea of buying a ticket $106 and not using it, without even trying it out that made me decide I would go.
The event was mostly held outdoors, with only one dance floor inside an enclosed space where face masks were heavily policed. I kept my mask on EVERYWHERE, even though outside most people weren’t wearing them. There was also a lot of hugging going on as people greeted each other. I kept well away from all of that nonsense!
I went to a Tropical Fruits event earlier in the year, and as I remembered there was a lot of “generic” dance music, with only one or two “singalong’ songs. Last night, I quite liked the music, and had a couple of dances. I also ran in to someone who I’ve known for a number of years, and had a few interesting chats.
On leaving the event about 11pm, I asked “what’s the wait time for taxi” and was told “about an hour”. Literally seconds later, the “courtesy bus” arrived, and I was escorted home (as the only peron on the bus), allowing me to be in bed and watching the midnight fireworks on TV. Meanwhile, we’re close enough to the showground to have enjoyed an accompany real life soundtrack of fireworks, too.
Day at Gosford
“Sure, why not? I’ll go too”, I thought to myself, when I saw my friend Kate invite me on Facebook to an event organised on by the Anglican Church at Gosford. Located about only eighty minutes by train from Sydney’s Central Station, the church has become an active national voice in the area of human rights, particularly refugees, thanks to the leadership of their priest, Father Rod, through clever, pithy and profound posts on social media. Father Rod also spoke at the recent refugee vigil in Sydney.
Today’s event was a talk by Julian Burnside QC AO (barrister and human rights advocate) and former Australian Of The Year, Professor Patrick McGorry AO (psychiatrist, researcher and mental health advocate). Though there was nothing either said which I hadn’t heard before – though Julian Burnside read out a letter about something which had occurred on Nauru only two days ago – it was really great to hear them speak. They’re both smart men who spoke with honesty and passion.
Despite what you often read in the press (or in the comments columns of various blogs), those attending today’s meeting weren’t a bunch of inner-city lefties. Looking around the crowd, almost everyone was at least fifty years old. Overhearing conversations, almost everyone was a local. And judging by the moments of applause, I’d say more than half the audience was Christian. The common theme to the addresses, and to the questions was that Australia was once a leader in supporting refugees, but somehow we have “lost our way”.
And the world has noticed, too. Not just the United Nations. There was a stupid story in the paper the other day about an Australian woman refused backpacker accommodation in Scotland because “Australians were drunks and racists”. Total beat-up of a story, of course, and a really bad example of “cut and paste journalism”. But on a personal level I remember being in Stockholm a few years ago and got to talking with a guy from Norway.
“We go to Stockholm, Copenhagen and Helsinki Pride”, a young Norwegian bloke called Kristian told me. He was maybe mid-20s, with an interest in politics, and so we chatted for quite some time about politics in Scandinavia and Australia. “You treat refugees very badly”, he told me. “They travel thousands of kilometres on boats and then you put them on islands”, he added, demonstrating more of an awareness of the Australian political scene than I thought may have existed in this part of the world.
Also on a personal level, at today’s talk, Father Rod introduced us to Salar Hs, a refugee from Iran. A young guy, he works hard as an Uber driver, and plays violin. A local orchestra played a work he composed in collaboration with Caitlin Yeo which was very moving and gained a standing ovation.
Today’s event was filmed for the television documentary “The Shadowland”, an independent production that has been commissioned by the ABC as a “Compass” special for 2016, so keep an eye out, you might see me in the background.
After the talk, Kate and I wandered around Gosford, before finally settling at restaurant/bar on the waterfront. Compared with so many people who come to Australia in such difficult circumstances, we both agreed we feel truly lucky and privileged.
Flying in to Sydney
When I fly in to Sydney, most of the time it’s over the oil refineries of Kernel. It’s always such a pleasure to fly in a different way, taking in views of Sydney Harbour, the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. This was the view on Thursday afternoon/evening on a Virgin flight. Bliss.
I spent all day inside the hospoital being told by arriving patients what a gorgeous day it has been today and now I open your blog to read the same thing. Sheesh, we volunteers are pinned indoors slaving away whilst you ‘workers’ are sunning yourselves. I’m envious.
Sorry to hear Victor. I’m working a split shift today, so a few hours in the middle of the day was such a treat. Hopefully you’ve had some time to enjoy the sunshine?