As the people of Sweden slept, we sat and waited and waited and waited.
From time to time, as we enjoyed the brilliant conversation, excellent company and a soundtrack of both this and last year’s “Melodifestivalen”, we checked online from time to time without success. Even by late afternoon there was still no sign of “Andra Chansen”.
This was the third year in a row a group of us have gathered at a Sydney pub to watch Melodifestivalen, the Swedish finals leading to Eurovision.
Last year I was, of course, in Sweden for actual final and called my friends long-distance at about three o’clock in the morning. “Here, Patrick, you talk to him… he sounds drunk” was a phrase I recall from the night.
This year it was all a bit different with Gustav visiting us from Sweden. And so we decorated the pub with yellow and blue streamers and balloons.
Six hours of Swedish pop was about enough, with festivities ending up about seven, and still there was no sign of “Andra Chansen” showing up.
In the grand scheme of things, I guess it didn’t matter so much, since we all had already heard the songs, and most of us knew the result.
And the real point of the day was a fun catch-up with friends, anyway.
One of the many things Damien and I have in common is an interest in politics. At times, you might describe us as “political junkies”, as we often get together for election nights. We also will often discuss over the phone or through chat major political events.
We’re not, however, what you’d call “partisan”. We have our own political preferences, but we’re definitely not “slaves to the party”.
When I won tickets to see the new Oliver Stone movie, “W” about George W. Bush it was only natural that I’d invite Damo.
We were both, however, somewhat disappointed with the film.
“It was like watching a cartoon”, Damien commented after the film. “Everyone was a charicature”, he added.
I was in total agreement. For me, It was just a film for the “chattering classes”, confirming or re-affirming their beliefs about George Bush.
As we watched the film at the Chauvel Cinema in Paddington, the “chattering classes” giggled at all the expected moments.
For me this was a real disappointment. The death of thousands of people is not something you dismiss with a giggle, and sly “he was an idiot” comment.
“These are serious issues” I thought to myself.
But still they giggled and laughed, as they had their views re-affirmed by a film that barely went beyond the surface.
“They didn’t tell me a thing I didn’t already know or feel about the Bush presidency”, Damien told me as we wandered down the street.
It was disappointing in so many ways. In fact, I began to feel the man “W” was probably more interesting and complex was the film “W”.
It’s such a shame because the last eight years were so important in so many ways. The end of an era. An important change in US foreign policy as they moved to a “first strike” philosophy. The fundamental change as the United States moved back into isolationist mode.
I refuse to believe – as the movie suggested – it was all about a bloke who could never live up to the expectations of his father. It was far more complex than that, which unfortuantely “W” failed to explained. It was, as Damien suggested, just a big cartoon.
That said, I did like Colin Powell and George Bush Senior, as they were clearly the film’s “heroes”, the dramatic counter-balances to “Junior” and played by the actors with a great deal of intelligence and authenticity.
The setting for the play is Kings Cross in Sydney. The main character is Shane, a teenager from Goulburn, a city of about 25,000 people near Canberra in Southern NSW.
The impossibly young, Sam Dunn, who plays the character of Shane, is a teenager who runs away from home in Goulburn. He’s experimenting with his sexuality and because of this gets to meet Will (Ben Stiller) and Peter (Tony Phelan).
Meanwhile back home in Goulburn his older brother (also played by Ben Stiller) is coming to grips with his own demons, which Shane was either unaware of or had tried to supress his understanding of.
The plotline, of course, is not too dissimilar to a thousand other places which have been staged in the Mardi Gras festival: young boy from the country moves to the city to express his sexuality. Unlike many others plays which have tended to romanticise the story – young boy comes to Sydney, falls in love, lives happily ever after – this play recognises the difficulties of such a move.
The play is genuinely funny. The whole audience laughed constantly.
The performances of all three actors were also very good.
I was touched by the play on many levels, especially when I discovered the playwright, Tommy Murphy comes originally from Queanbeyan, a town not dissimilar to Goulburn.
Significantly, Goulburn has a gaol and Goulburn has a very high rate of male youth suicide.
And although the play was staged at about the time of Mardi Gras, it wasn’t actually part of the festival, which may be interpreted on many different levels.
This is not really a “gay play”, it’s just a play… and a very good one at that! In fact it’s the first play in a while that I’ve actively encouraged friends to attend.
When former Australian soldier Sonya Newman reflects on the life-altering medical crisis that led to her amputation, she offers a perspective that is as refreshing as it is characteristically blunt. Speaking with her today for The Limb Shift podcast (to launch in October), I was struck by an honesty and candour that lingers in my memory several hours after our conversation finished: “Limb loss can also open doors and show you a better side of life… I think it’s been actually beneficial for me, if I could say that strangely”, she told me.
As a combat fitness leader who spent two decades in the Army, Newman’s world was upended by a routine knee surgery that snowballed into a multi-year nightmare of chronic pain and infection. Yet today, she operates a bustling 250-acre farm outside Darwin, cares for dozens of animals, and represents Australia internationally in para ice hockey.
The Road to the Chainsaw Decision
Newman’s journey began with a standard procedure to address knee damage sustained during her defence service. “I went for an arthroscopy to, to fix my knee,” she explains. “I had a simple surgery… got a staph infection”.
What followed was a gruelling two-year medical saga consisting of three failed total knee replacements, two failed joint fusions, bending rods, and excruciating treatments where doctors placed silicone balloons into her empty joint cavity to inflate them over six months.
By age 36, the debilitating reality of non-stop opioid regimens and unstoppable bone infection brought her to a breaking point. The final decision to amputate was born out of a desperate need to reclaim her life. Newman recalls walking into her doctor’s office with an ultimatum:
“I said, look, get me to Sydney and make it happen. I’ve got a chainsaw if you don’t… I went into my doctor’s office and said those words. Exactly”.
When her doctor warned her about the extreme risk of further infection, she replied flatly: “What have I got to lose?” She was on a plane within days. “As soon as they were offering almost the, the miracle fix that, that quick end, it was actually pretty easy,” she says. “It was like, alright, let’s go make this happen. You know, I’m done waiting now”.
Mateship, Escalators, and Dark Humour
Following her initial surgery at Liverpool Hospital and a transfer to Holsworthy Barracks for rehabilitation, Newman threw herself into physical fitness. As an active soldier, sitting still was never an option. “The moment I got to Holsworthy Barracks, I was on a rower for like two or three hours a day,” she says.
Her ultimate lifeline arrived in the form of the Invictus Games. While she successfully tried out for a number of sports – including swimming, wheelchair basketball, and rowing – the true healing power of the Games wasn’t the trophies—it was the military camaraderie. “It was actually the mateship coming back into being around the same sort of people,” she reflects.
The community of fellow wounded veterans provided an environment of unapologetic, dark defence humour that allowed her to process her new reality. Newman fondly remembers training camps where “the boys would steal each other’s legs and take off down the street” to the horror of onlookers. It was also this group that pushed her to master navigating the world in a wheelchair, leading to a memorable mishap in a Canadian hotel lobby:
“The very first time I did it, this guy named Bear stood behind me… He’s like, ‘don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall, chook, you’ll be right.’ And sure enough, the bottom of the escalator… I fell. And I’m in the middle of the lobby of this hotel over in Canada, and everyone just stops and just picks me up and goes, ‘What? Hasn’t anyone ever seen an amputee fall out of a wheelchair before?’ … That’s what got me over the other side, basically”.
Post-Military Hardships and Moving Forward
Despite her drive, transitioning back to her full-time role in the Army proved to be an uphill battle against systemic mindsets regarding injured personnel. Newman details the immense daily pressure of attempting to meet rigid timelines when simply dressing in a modified uniform took fifteen minutes. The breaking point arrived when she was told, “if you can’t do it, we don’t need you”. “That just, it almost crushed me because I felt like I’d tried everything up to that point,” she admits.
After discharging in December 2018, Newman experienced a severe mental health crisis. “I thought I was going to be in a better place being away from work and everything, but I, I crashed,” she reveals. “In January the following year, I woke up from a coma in the hospital… because I’d got to a point that I didn’t want to be here anymore”.
With the swift intervention of the Department of Veterans’ Affairs (DVA), medical specialists in Sydney, and her partner Jen, she received the comprehensive psychological support and stump revision surgeries required to manage debilitating nerve pain. Newman notes that while mental health fluctuates, developing coping mechanisms has been her saving grace.
Crucial to her recovery was the shifting dynamic within her home life. Newman credits her wife, Jen, as being “rock solid by my side,” though she candidly notes the difficult transition out of a patient-caregiver relationship: “I said to Jen a couple of times like, ‘you’re not my nurse anymore. Like, can you just be, can you be my partner? Like, can you be my wife now, you know?’”
Life in the Tropics and the Ice Rink
Today, Newman lives an incredibly active, bush-centric lifestyle just outside of Darwin. Alongside her family, she manages commercial dog kennels and works a sprawling rural property populated by cattle, camels, and goats. “I’m probably working harder now than I did for the twenty years I was in the Army,” she laughs, detailing days filled with fencing, concreting, and fixing tractors.
Living and working in the extreme tropical humidity of the Top End presents unique challenges for an amputee. Newman has to remove her prosthetic six or seven times a day to wash away sweat and prevent severe rashes. “I have like—so we have, um, suction and a pin system and I’ve still had it fall off on the motorbikes,” she explains. “I’ve had to go back through the paddock and find my leg a couple of times”.
If managing a farm in the tropics wasn’t enough, Newman has also developed a self-described “new addiction”—para ice hockey. Recruited internationally through connections made during her Invictus days, she now proudly plays for the Australian national team. Strapped into a sled two inches off the ice, she relishes the high-speed, full-contact nature of the sport. “Bring back the biff. Well, hockey never, hockey never lost the biff. And that’s what I love about it,” she says enthusiastically.
Ultimately, Newman’s focus is on setting a powerful example for her fourteen-year-old son, Douglas, and twelve-year-old daughter, Ashley. Her guiding philosophy is beautifully straightforward, serving as an inspiration for anyone facing sudden adversity:
“I just want to show my kids that they can keep going and do whatever doesn’t matter what life throws at you. Have a crack, have a crack. That’s it… sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But I guess it’s, it’s taken me to some amazing places to be honest”.
Sonya’s interview will appear later in the year when the Limb Shift is launched during Amputee Awareness Week (October).
In the next couple of years, I’ll likely be taking a step back from full-time work and embracing semi-retirement.
As I transition, I’ve started the fascinating and sometimes daunting process of sifting through the ABC Radio archives—particularly the early work that has now been digitised to rediscover moments of my on-air career.
On top of that, I’ve got a treasure trove of content sitting on hundreds of cassette tapes and DATs in boxes at home.
The exciting part is how effortless it is now to dive into that analogue archive: finding a specific clip, generating a transcript, and pulling out the best bits is simple, opening up a world of old material.
I had the privilege of meeting and interviewing the Australian swimming legend Dawn Fraser on a number of occasions. Today, I’m sharing one such interview from the time leading up to the announcement that Sydney would host the 2000 Olympics.
Dawn Fraser explained her upcoming move from Sydney’s Balmain to the Riverina town of Barellan was primarily driven by the people and her health, specifically to avoid the city’s pollution and allergens that aggravate her asthma, which had recently led to emergency hospital visits.
She said she would continue with paid guest speaking under her Sydney agent and was looking at semi-retirement, having bought a three hundred-acre property where she planned to put on stock, leveraging the help and advice of her new neighbours, and supporting her daughter who had just been accepted as a swimming coach in nearby Narrandera.
She was optimistic about Sydney’s bid for the 2000 Olympics, citing its superior technical and security packages. She also addressed the persistent myth about the Tokyo Olympic flag incident, denying the popular version of the story.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Well, it’s only a matter of weeks now until we find out whether or not Sydney will host the year two thousand Olympics. But the region is about to gain its own contact with the games. Former Olympian and parliamentarian Dawn Fraser is packing her bags later this year, leaving Sydney from Balmain to Barellan, east of Griffith, the hometown also of that other great sporting achiever, Evonne Goolagong. She’s in Barellan at the moment and is my guest this morning. Dawn Fraser, thank you very much for your time this morning and welcome to the program and welcome to the region.
DAWN FRASER: Well, thank you, James, and I’m very happy to be here, I must admit.
JAMES O’BRIEN: What do you think of the two thousand Olympic bid? Do you think we’re going to be successful?
DAWN FRASER: I think that we’re very successful. In fact, I think the other cities now are getting very aware of Sydney’s bid. And their technical bid is the best that the IOC, which is International Olympic Committee have ever seen. And I think that’s probably what will win the Sydney bid.
JAMES O’BRIEN: But that’s that’s the technical things. And of course you’ve been to just about every Olympic Games since then. Is it always the the technical things which wins or does politics also play a role in this.
DAWN FRASER: Oh, politics always play a role in the Olympic Games, of course. But I think technical and security that our security right throughout the world is the best in, in Australia. And also, you know, our technical is probably, as I said before, the best that the IOC have ever seen.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Since you began at the games back in the early sixties. What sort of changes have there been to the games?
DAWN FRASER: Well, for instance, uh, the hosting country now, uh, prepares and looks after quite a lot of third world countries. In fact, uh, you know, in, in nineteen eighty, we looked after Zimbabwe. We took the whole team. Australia, I’m saying took the whole team to Moscow. And then we looked after them as far as medical, uh, physiotherapists, coaches and trainers. Uh, since then and last year in Barcelona, we had three South African countries that we looked after.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Terrific. Now, in terms of actually moving to the area, what has prompted this move from Balmain to Barellan?
DAWN FRASER: Well, first of all, let me say it’s been the people. And secondly, may I say it’s been my health. Um, and also, you know, the fact that it starts with a B, I think coming.
JAMES O’BRIEN: From.
DAWN FRASER: Them.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Yes. I’ve been noticing in the paper the last year that you’ve been making quite a few visits to the area and especially being involved with the swimming club.
DAWN FRASER: Yes. Well, I’ve, I’ve actually been coming down to Barellan now for the last seven years with the, with the Barellan Swimming Club, and last year they made me a life member. Um, so, you know, the kids are from around the area and surrounding areas have improved greatly over the last seven years. And of course, you know, we’ve been a bit of a very competitive club now. And I think my daughter has just been accepted as the swimming coach at Narrandera. So there’s going to be a lot of competition around the area. And I think that’s going to be very good for this particular region.
JAMES O’BRIEN: But you mentioned, for example, your health and there is that the issue of the asthma. We’ve just had some figures come out the other week showing that this area has a high rate of asthma. So I’m just wondering why you’re moving to this area if you’ve got to avoid asthma.
DAWN FRASER: Well, it’s very interesting because the things that I’m allergic to only happen in the city. For instance, I’m allergic to, uh, to yeast and, uh, and and pollution, air conditioning. Well, you don’t need that very much out here in the country. And, uh, and we haven’t got the pollution out here that that’s in the city. The pollution around Sydney has been so great in the last, and it’s been increasing in the last two years. But, uh, any sort of virus that I get just increases my asthma. So I think, and I feel that I’ve got to do something about it. I enjoy living, and I don’t want to sort of, uh, be overtaken by the particular sickness. So I think it’s better if I do that.
JAMES O’BRIEN: So you’ve had some substantial problems the last couple of years. Have you in Sydney?
DAWN FRASER: Yes, I certainly have. I mean, uh, you know, over the last three and a half years, I’ve had two emergency sort of dashes to the local hospital. And, uh, and that’s been sort of, uh, a bit frightening. And it’s made me sit up and be aware of the situation that I’m in.
JAMES O’BRIEN: I’m just wondering, though, what you all do. I mean, are you looking at a career in politics? Would you would you like to be the member for Murrumbidgee or or are you looking at a hotel or what will you do in Barellan?
DAWN FRASER: Well, I still I still will be, um, under control of my agent in Sydney, and I still will do guest speaking positions, which I will be. I get paid for doing those things. And then, you know, I am looking at a semi-retirement sort of thing. And with the three hundred acres that, um, that I’m looking at at the moment here in Barellan, well, I’ve put some stock on that. And then, uh, you know, I think that semi-retirement is going to be good. My daughter’s going, as I said, going to be working at Narrandera. And if she goes very well out there, which I think she will, it’s about time she started looking after mum.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Now you’re putting some stock on the land. I mean, do you have a background in farming at all?
DAWN FRASER: No, I don’t, but I have a lot of very good friends here in Barellan that help me. And you know, I’ve been learning a lot over the last two or three years since I’ve been here, and I do know a little bit about it. And I have spent a lot of time on, on, on land. You know, when I went to Adelaide to live, I had forty five acres at a place called prospect.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Oh, yes.
DAWN FRASER: And I had some cattle and sheep, and I looked after the, the land by sowing it and putting pulling trees down and putting trees up and with a tractor and stuff like that. So I’m not afraid of the hard work that I know is in store for me. And while I’m healthy and things like that which I am when I come out here, I can’t see any hassles. And, you know, as I said, the people of Barellan have been very good to us and we’ve fitted in and I think we’ve been accepted into the community, which is a big plus and it’s just a matter of, um, of asking the right people for the advice and going off and doing it yourself. If you make mistakes, you then go back and ask advice again.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Now I’ve been meaning. I’ve been wanting to actually chat with you ever since. Late last year when I interviewed a fellow on the morning program about their memories of the Olympic Games, and this fellow said that it wasn’t you who climbed up the flagpole and stole that flag in Tokyo. It was in fact, him.
DAWN FRASER: Well, if that guy was named Desmond and he came from, um, from Western Australia, which I don’t think he was, it wasn’t him at all, because.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Was it a fellow called Peter Hawkins?
DAWN FRASER: No, it was not.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Who was it?
DAWN FRASER: Uh, well, actually, it was Des Piper from Western Australia, and he was in the Australian hockey team. So I don’t know the guy that, in fact, I. Someone sent me the, uh, the paper clipping of the Wagga Wagga news.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Oh, yes.
DAWN FRASER: I wrote back to the editor and just said, you know, that this isn’t the true story, and please tell the person that he stopped using my name.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Oh, dear.
DAWN FRASER: Because it wasn’t correct. Yeah. But I mean, you know, everyone sort of has dinners on those sort of stories. And they say that they know they know those people. In fact, the the flag wasn’t taking anywhere near anyone else. There was only three of us. And those three people know who they were.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Okay, Dawn, thank you very much. And welcome to the area. Thank you.
DAWN FRASER: James, thanks very much.
JAMES O’BRIEN: Dawn Fraser, who’s moving to the area from Balmain to Barellan. My guest this morning on the morning show and you’re listening to ABC Radio Riverina, James O’Brien with you until eleven.
So far I’ve managed to avoid “Sardine Sunday”, as they’re calling it: the day when there are half a dozen major events happening in Sydney, including the Mardi Gras harbour party, the arrival of two cruise ships and cricket at the SCG. I don’t have the television switched on, but I can hear the cheers just by opening my window, With fears of transportation crisis, the RTA issued a really strong wording, almost imploring people to use public transport and to prepare for delays. No, after getting up and having breakfast, I’ve just been sitting quietly at home practicing my Swedish lessons, chatting on the phone, and reading some email ahead of going to see a play at the nearby Belvoir Street Theatre. My strategy for “Sardine Sunday” is stay close to home, stay very close. It’s been a terrific couple of days though. And it occurs to me aside from a few photographs here and there I haven’t really blogged properly for about a week, so this is definitely a catchup post.
It all started on Tuesday night with Swedish class. On leaving the class and heading up towards Oxford Street for a bite to eat, I got to talking with one of my classmates at the traffic lights. “I feel like a beer after that”, he said to me. “Well let’s have one”, I said and we headed off to the Gaslight where we talked about our interests in languages, and in Scandinavia in particular. And then on Wednesday night, it was the usual catchup with mates at the pub.
Fruits in Suits on Thursday was quite good fun, as I chatted for a while to an older man who was sitting next to me. “You’re the first person who has spoken to me”, he said. “Twenty years ago”, he told me, “I would have known 90 percent of the people in the room. But that’s all changed. I am old and invisible”, he said, without any sense of pity, just one of recognitionm and definitely with a smile on his face. “I am 70 plus GST” he told me. He seemed like a nice man. The fabulous Shauna Jensen also sang a few songs, which was excellent. Unfortunately, the philistines who made up most of the crowd in attendance just treated her like background noise. You could tell she was a little pissed off, as she said her goodbyes and thanked with a lovely direct smile the half a dozen of us who actually listened and enjoyed her work. As Fruits In Suits went on a bit longer than expected, I missed the Bloggers Meetup.
On Friday night, my mate Michaela and I caught up for dinner at Bird Cow Fish, followed by a couple of glasses of wine at La Sala. As usual, the conversation and meals were excellent. The entree, a plate of cured meats in particular was excellent. We also had a really great bottle of wine, a pinot noir from Tasmania, though I don’t recall the name of it.
And yesterday, we had an informal meetup for visiting ABBAMAILer, Neil Hopwood who is from South Africa. “The usual place, the usual bunch”, as Agnetha once sang, we had a lot of fun. By about mid-afternoon my mate Patrick arrived from Canberra.
After the ABBAMAIL drinks, we headed off to a series of short films (part of the Mardi Gras Film Festival) about life in country towns, farewell drinks for Mark, and then finally a couple of bevvies at Stonewall, which I haven’t been to for quite a while. Mark’s farewell drinks at the Strawberry Hills were loads of fun, and I got to meet a couple of people whose blogs I’ve read, including Nails, Mish, and Rina.
After breakfast this morning, during which Pat and I talked about our respective holiday plans for the year, he headed off “over the bridge” to catch up with some other friends. Driving back this afternoon, I hope he avoids Sardine Sunday.
It’s been a while since it’s rained this well in Sydney. In fact, it’s rained so heavily the storm-water drains on Crown Street, Surry Hills have been overflowing. Hooray!
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I’m a bad swede. I forgot to watch. You probably won’t talk to me anymore, will you?
Hehehehehe. It’s pretty crap this year actually so you’re totally forgiven. Once again I am suspecting the Swedish nation will totally stuff it up. I’ll say it now… you watch… a choice between Eric Saade and The Moniker and I’ll be Sweden chooses The Moniker.
I’m a bad swede. I forgot to watch. You probably won’t talk to me anymore, will you?
Hehehehehe. It’s pretty crap this year actually so you’re totally forgiven. Once again I am suspecting the Swedish nation will totally stuff it up. I’ll say it now… you watch… a choice between Eric Saade and The Moniker and I’ll be Sweden chooses The Moniker.