“You’re saving up for something special?”, the bloke behind the counter asked me,
“Not sure, maybe…” I said in reply.
On a whim I bought a money box today.
I haven’t had one for many years.
First there were the plastic pigs you eventually hacked to pieces.
And later, there was the more grown up “miniature bank” you could more simply open.
Even at university, I’m sure I had a money box. Never much money. But a money box, nonetheless.
And for the last ten years or so I’ve been collecting coins in plastic take-away contains.
I have five of them on my kitchen benchtop – 5c, 10c, 20c, 50c, $1 – in which I place loose change until eventually I have enough to make a visit to the bank.
I used to love the “counting machine” my local branch used to have, which swirled around like a merry-go-round, and which both sorted the coins and gave you a final sum.
It’s not as interesting these days to go to the bank, as they simply weigh the coins. Boring… :)
“How much do you think it will hold?”, the bloke asked me. He suggested maybe $900 or $1000.
“No idea”, I told him.
And I guess that’s part of the appeal of my new money box. It’s quite large, and will need a can-opener to retrieve the contents.
One day when it’s full – or I need cash – I can’t wait for the thrill of going to the bank with my freshly opened money box and seeing what’s inside.
And when I know how much I have, I’ll decide what to do with it.
Unlike saving for a specific project, this one has brought out the child in me again, I think.
As we caught the ferry, we made one or two jokes about the age of the people heading to tonight’s concert at Taronga Zoo by The Sports and Jo Jo Zep & The Flacons. “They might still have folding chairs, but it won’t be long until they have walking frames”: that kind of thing. Though we’re no spring chickens ourselves, it was pretty interesting going to see a concert featuring two legendary bands of the 70s/80s, who I don’t think have performed together for over thirty years. Though the band, The Sports performed well, I’ve seen Stephen Cummings perform better. Joe Camilleri, about to turn seventy, was excellent, as were The Falcons.
It’s time for celebration. Earlier this year my blog celebrated its tenth birthday. With this post, I’m passing another milestone – this is post #2000. So tonight I’m gonna party like it’s 1999.
The first stop on my “diverse Saturday” was the “Don’t Block The Internet Rally” at Town Hall. I use the interwebs a fair bit, both for professional and personal purposes. Don’t we all?
And so I headed down to Town Hall where there was maybe 400-500 people, a lot of them being “the usual suspcets” when it comes to protests in that area.
At one point as I walked through I was confronted with about half a dozen petitions in favour of everything from same-same marriages to “ending the war”. It was all a bit too much, so I wandered over to KFC to grab a burger while I waited for the speeches.
There were a couple of blokes I’ve never heard of before from organisations like Electronic Frontiers, one of whom bore a resemblance to Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons. Fiona Patten from what was the Eros Foundation, now The Sex Party also spoke, mentioning the long history of censorship attempts in Australia.
Fiona Patten from The Sex Party speaks at the internet anti-blocking protest at Town Hall.
I remain fairly open-minded about the subject, as I just haven’t done enough reading about the real implications of the government’s plan to filter the web in Australia. Aside from the free speech stuff (which brought up notions of The Great Firewall of China), I’ve been most concerned about this idea that filtering the web would slow things down even further. After hearing the speeches, I still remain unconvinced either way of the pros and cons of the plan.
And from there, it was down to meet Damo to continue to help him in his furniture removals.
As it was a beautiful day, the roads were absolutely packed, so things went fairly slowly unfortunately.
I arrived back home with just enough time for a quick nap before heading out to Parramatta to see “Thank God It’s Christmas” at the Riverside Theatre. The show was loads of fun, and I enjoyed it immensely. Jean Kittson was hillarious, in particular, with her tales about talking to her deaf mother on the telephone, and in showing photographs of their family’s “Australian Christmas Tree” (a beach umbrella covered in tinsel which takes up most of their lounge-room).
As I caught the train, I logged in to Facebook and left a brief status update… “James is on the train to parramatta”
By the time I arrived home I had the following comments…
Paramatta doesnt sound like a great destination…why dont you get teh train back home again?
I went to Parramatta once…in the 80’s. It was o.k.
Are you planning to come back?
Show me the way to Parramatta…
Cityrail train…take me home…to the place where i beloooong.
The reason being?
Geez, I thought, it’s only Parramatta! Heaven knows what they would have commented if I’d said I was going to Penrith.
“My God, I hope we don’t end up over the bridge again”, I whispered in Colin’s ear as we caught the shuttle bus from the Opera House to The Argyle for the Helpmann Awards After-Show Party.
It was a reference to a Sydney Film Festival opening or closing (I can’t recall) night we attended several years ago.
On that particular occasion, our bus driver took the wrong turn on the way from the State Theatre to The Argyle and suddenly we found ourselves half way across the bridge.
There was a lot of laughter, and recognition. Who hasn’t found themselves criss-crossing Sydney Harbour Bridge by missing the right turn. It’s a bit like going to Canberra and ending up in a continuous circuit around Parliament House.
After show party for the Helpmann Awards at The Argyle
Thankfully this time the bus driver found his way correctly, and we were soon happily drinking champagne and eating canapes.
Colin and I had met at 5.30 at Opera Bar where I, in particular, enjoyed the ravioli. Gosh it tasted good. And it was just the right size for a quick bite before a night at the theatre.
“Why are you going so early?”, Colin told me a friend had asked him. “Nobody goes to the early show”, his friend had told him.
“We do”, we both agreed. Even though the awards presented are not major ones, we both agreed it was great fun to go to both “sittings” of the Helpmann Awards, which recognise live performance in Australia.
As such, there was everything from a “physical theatre” group, to straight opera, ballet, contemporary dance, and a rather loud and raucous version of “Women In Uniform” by Skyhooks, though fronted by Jimmy Barnes, and also featuring Diesel.
You will no doubt recognise my bald head as part of the Helpmann Awards telecast.
“It’s a bit of a theatrical fruit salad”, I commented to Colin later in the night.
To attend and to enjoy everything, you really need to have broad tastes in live performance. Luckily I do. And so for me there was some joy in everything I saw.
The only slight disappointment for me this year was that there wasn’t as much comedy as I’d remembered from previous awards. Even though hosts, Julia Zemiro and Jonathan Biggins were both absolutely terrific, I felt like I would have liked a few more laughs.
I remember with fondness The Helen Clarke Five from a couple of years ago, an inspired act featuring Biggins and Phillip Scott who based there act around the song “Take Five” by The Dave Clark Five, but who sang a really funny ditty about New Zealand.
I just love these awards, though, because they celebrate stuff which I personally find incredibly important in my life.
For me there’s nothing quite like a night in the theatre. Unless there’s something deeply troubling you, you can suspend belief for a moment. For a couple of hours you can let your mind wander and focus on just one thing. And it’s mostly always done with the best of intentions – to make people happy, to make people sad or reflective, or just to make people think. Great stuff.
Oh, and I love the champagne and canapes too!
The absolute highlight for me, though, was Liv Ulmann who presented an award. Cool. Nordic. Strong. I love women like that.
As we walked down the stairs I instructed Colin about how to greet her in Swedish – “Hej Liv, välkommen till Australien” – just in case we ran into her at the after party.
She wasn’t there. And it’s just as well, because I’ve since discovered that, despite her Swedish connections, she’s actually Norwegian by birth.
I was very excited when I checked the letterbox on arriving home today.
As well as the phone bill – yawn – there was a collection card which required a visit to the post office.
“It’s my new passport”, I realised straight away, marvelling at how quickly it had arrived (less than two weeks).
My new passport expires in 2019. Does such a year exist?
And it certainly is impressive for a number of reasons. I love all the new technology, the chips, the ghost immages, and all of the associated stuff to make it more secure.
And I love it because, at long last, I look like an adult. In my old passport, I looked a bit “just got out of bed”, whereas in this new one I’m wearing a suit, glasses etc.
Best of all, though? It means I can go travelling again, with plans already underway for a trip to NZ in a couple of months, and back to Sweden next year.
“It’s good to check the letterbox”, I reminded myself when I walked back up the street, as I hardly ever check it these days, because most of my correspondence is now done online.
“And especially good to check to see if you have any overdue bills”, I thought, “especially those which tell you the power is about to be disconnected”.
For some reason or other, the auto-payment thing on my electricity bill stopped a few months ago. But of course, because I thought it was an auto-payment, I never opened the letter when it arrived a few weeks ago.
Thus, when I arrived home last night I discovered they had already switched off the power.
Buggar!
When I woke this morning the place was eeeeeeerily quiet. No clock radio. No television. No gentle hum from the refrigerator.
The first thing I did this morning was ring up, pay the bill, and ask them to re-connect.
“We need you to be there during a four hour window”, the bloke on the phone told me this morning.
“Couldn’t you just do it remotely?”, I asked, with an answer in the negative. Apparently you have to be there in case anything has been left on. It’s a safety issue, apparently, though I suspect it’s probably more of a liability issue than a safety one.
“Most people say they’ve been overseas. No one ever says they forgot to pay”, the bloke who came to re-connect told me jokingly this afternoon.
Anyway, so I’ve got the power back on. I WILL remember to pay the bill. And I WILL remember to check the letterbox more often.
Though we were starting to feel fatigued from a long day of flying, our fighter spirit convinced us that we couldn’t simply arrive in Hanoi and head straight to the air-conditioned comfort of our hotel rooms.
Upon reaching the Chalcedony, we checked in, received more details about our itinerary, and agreed to meet back in the foyer in approximately “ten to fifteen minutes” after freshening up. It ended up being closer to twenty-five minutes when we reconvened downstairs.
The weather was warm and humid, but not stifling. Despite it being ten o’clock on a Monday night, the streets were bustling with numerous young people in their late teens or twenties, sitting in street cafes, enjoying coffee, eating meals, and, in one instance we noticed, playing checkers.
We couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact area where we were staying at the time, but it seemed like an older part of town. We later discovered we’re staying in the older part of Hanoi city. The streets were narrow, some of them curved, and many of the buildings appeared older or vacant as we strolled through the late-night streets.
Andrea popped into a café that also sold notepads, cards, and magnets. While she paid, I glanced at the menu boards, trying to gauge the prices of coffee and beer. A can of Bia Saigon across the road from our accommodation was equivalent to $1 in Australian dollars.
In the old part of Hanoi at night, pic by Andrea.
We continued our walk and took some photographs until our bodies started to give in. The allure of a hotel room with air conditioning and fresh sheets became irresistible. We decided to call it a night and planned to wake up early for a morning stroll.
Back in our room, I published my blog, set up a shared Google Photos album for us, slipped under the sheets, and casually surfed through channels for a while. Originally, the plan was to watch the final episode of Succession, a series I’ve been following for the past couple of years. However, with a frazzled mind, I ended up watching the ABC Australia news (channel 99) until I drifted off to sleep.
Just before falling asleep, I noticed that sunrise was occurring earlier than I had expected. It was currently 5:15 in Hanoi.
I woke up earlier than anticipated at 4 am, and the familiar sight of ABC News Breakfast greeted me on the television. However, I waited until 5 am before texting my friends to see if they were up for our planned early morning walk. After a minute or so, I received a reply saying, “See you in the foyer.”
As anticipated, the sights and sounds of the neighborhood in the early morning were significantly different from the previous night. People in a nearby park were engaged in their exercise routines, and businesspeople were busy preparing for the day ahead, transporting goods on impressively balanced bicycles and even performing some street butchery.
Early morning cyclist in Hanoi. Pic : AndreaWe also came across some remarkable public art, including captivating works that reflected the city’s history, such as depictions of women carrying water.Though we all knew intellectually Vietnam is a “communist country”, we’ve been surprised by the number of outward signs of this with many flags flying high. This is the flag of Vietnam, reflecting the imagery of commnism.
Afterward, we returned to the hotel for breakfast and began preparing for the next 36 hours, which would be dedicated to traveling to and from Halong Bay.
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i’m a money boxer too! been though all kinds-my favourite being a silver cube one with the alphabet you could actually open but I secretly like those clay pig ones you can smash. recently I saw my niece with a donald duck one I had as a child from disneyland- it still had an aussie 20c piece or something stuck in it! those stupid money boxes were only suitable for miniature american coins I think! I tend to collect the 50c pieces and sometimes the $1 and 20c for the different designs. Also went through a bit of a 50c Diana collecting phase after she died thinking they might be rarer.
My Mum used to collect “special” coins – commemorative 50c pieces, shiny new $2, keeping them in various jars and dishes. It was her painless way of saving a bit extra.
When I moved to the country, she gave me a box filled with saved coins – handy change, “just in case”. It must’ve been a few hundred dollars, which was handy, but more than that it was uncounted days of saving, putting a bit aside.
Wow what a lovely story. This is my approach to saving also. It’s a little bit here and there with no specific project in mind. It’s painless, and a bit of an adventure too. Every time I have a dollar, in it goes.
i’m a money boxer too! been though all kinds-my favourite being a silver cube one with the alphabet you could actually open but I secretly like those clay pig ones you can smash. recently I saw my niece with a donald duck one I had as a child from disneyland- it still had an aussie 20c piece or something stuck in it! those stupid money boxes were only suitable for miniature american coins I think! I tend to collect the 50c pieces and sometimes the $1 and 20c for the different designs. Also went through a bit of a 50c Diana collecting phase after she died thinking they might be rarer.
A mate of mine told me he recently cashed in $207! How cool.
My Mum used to collect “special” coins – commemorative 50c pieces, shiny new $2, keeping them in various jars and dishes. It was her painless way of saving a bit extra.
When I moved to the country, she gave me a box filled with saved coins – handy change, “just in case”. It must’ve been a few hundred dollars, which was handy, but more than that it was uncounted days of saving, putting a bit aside.
Good luck with your saving, Jamie x
Wow what a lovely story. This is my approach to saving also. It’s a little bit here and there with no specific project in mind. It’s painless, and a bit of an adventure too. Every time I have a dollar, in it goes.