Niece or Nephew
At the moment I don’t know if Willow is a boy or girl (I’m thinking girl), but I’m an uncle again. Congrats to Karran and Lyle.
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The King
“What would David Stratton say?”, I thought to myself, when Margaret Pomeranz described the film as a “masterpiece”. She was the MC for the red carpet premiere of the new Netflix film, “The King”, a modern take of the story of Henry V.
I’m not exactly sure how, but I scored an invite, and invited my colleague and friend, Jo to come along with me. There was a red carpet, there were several glasses of champagne, and there was a lovely pack of cheese and crackers. What’s not to love?
There were also lots of young men and women (and maybe a couple of 50-somethings) impressed by the premiere night presence of lead actor, Timothée Chalamet. Memorably, he was in the movie, “Call Me By Your Name”, a wonderful story about the summer relationship between two young men. The relationship is complicated by one of them being under eighteen, though there’s not a huge age gap between them. The end of the film is very sad, and I shed a few tears. Oh, and there’s the scene with the peach.
Though he’s a wonderful actor, Timothée is also a bit of eye candy, and there were lots of screams of delight when he appeared on stage. With a much younger audience, there were also a few moments of audience response in the midst of the drama, which, to be honest, didn’t really match with the intensity of it all.
Though I’m not sure I’d agree with Margaret’s assessment that it’s a “masterpiece”, I thought it was very good. It was an interesting combination of different genres including a thoughtful, psychological drama and an action film. There were moments of violence, where I had to turn my eyes away. The muddy, bloody battlefield scene, where it was hard to tell the difference between the two sides, and where you gained an intensity of it all, is memorable.
Cumming at the Opera House
Every time I go to the Opera House I take a photograph of either the Opera House or the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Deep down, I know it’s provincial and parochial to photograph some so-called “world icons”, somehow holding on to a notion that Sydney is a “global city” whereas the other state capitals are “colonial outposts”. I recognise that, but I still think they’re great structures and they never fail to impress me with their beauty. And so of course, tonight, heading off to see Allan Cumming at The Studio at the Sydney Opera House I did the same again.
It had been a reasonably frustrating day for me at work. I felt like I didn’t achieve all that much. I felt like everything I attempted to do was stifled in some way, shape or form. I felt a bit like a “mid ranking bureaucrat” whose sole jobs was to send/receive emails that didn’t actually achieve any resolution. Hopefully, everything I did today, however, will have some resolution reasonably soon.
And then after work I caught up with a couple of colleagues for a post-work drinks. I couldn’t stay too long, though, as I’d made plans to meet Colin at Snakebean. When I’d agreed to have dinner with Damien last night at Snakebean, I’d forgotten I’d agreed exactly the same thing with Colin tonight. We were tight for time, though, so we only had the soft-shelled crab and some dumplings which we, pretty much, gulped down, ahead of catching a cab to the Opera House to see Allan Cumming. No double entendre intended, by the way :)
I don’t know if I’ve ever actually seen him in a film. And I don’t know if he’s a terribly good actor. But I have seen him interviewed on various chat shows and I’ve always found him extremely entertaining. One of the most memorable occasions was on the Graham Norton Show, when he was extremely entertaining and extraordinarily funnily.
Tonight, he revealed Graham was a good friend of his, and he told a very funny anecdote about how Graham was at Dolly Parton’s theme park, Dollywood around the time of 9/11. Prior to the attacks, he told us Graham and Dolly had floated down a waterway at the park in rubber tubes singing “Islands In The Stream”. “Gay men in the audience are cumming”, he joked. And then, when the attacks occured, he told us, they halted Dolly Parton music on the public address system, replacing it with news coverage.
Actually, he did a fair deal of name-dropping tonight. When I met so and so. When I did thus and thus. He continued the theme throughout the show. But you never got the feeling he was “big noting” himself. You had the feeling he was totally shocked and stunned by the success he’d had, and the feeling these were stories along the lines of “you’ll never guess what happened to me”.
The anecdotes were a key part of the show, but so too was the music. At times he sang really well, other times I thought he was okay. I found his quiet ballads lacking in a certain authenticity. I think it was sometimes about “hitting the notes” and not “hitting the meaning”. But mostly, he nailed every song extremely well. In fact, there were two occasions when he sang when I had goose-bumps.
The first was when he sang “Where I Want to Be” from “Chess”, which he introduced, somewhat ironically as a tune by ABBA. I’ve heard a lot of versions of this song, and I can honestly say his was the best. Located in the musical, it’s very much based around the character. But when it was sung tonight, it was a lyric we could all relate to as we struggle with the struggle of life.
The other moment was when he sang “Mein Herr” from “Cabaret”. In the musical, it’s sung as a slow and seductive song, almost dismissive in a way. But when he sang it tonight, slowly, and often spoken with a thick Scottish accent, the song was very seductive. I ached with anticipation as he moved towards the lines about he was searching “inch by inch, man by man”.
There were a couple of times tonight when I wanted to jump up and applaud. The “mood” wasn’t there until the very end though. Still, the crowd gave him a standing ovation, and deservedly so. “This has set a high bar for cabaret in Sydney”, I mentioned to Colin as we left the theatre tonight.
Afterwards, having a drink at the Opera House we talked about the show, with both of us concluding we had a great night. Very, very enjoyable. And very recommended.
My Return To Work Plan
I’m planning to return to work a week earlier than originally scheduled, pending my doctor’s approval during our meeting next week. I’m fully aware that I’m not yet prepared for full-time employment, particularly on days when I experience fatigue following exercise or rehabilitation. However, the idea of easing back into part-time work is quite appealing at the moment.
My eagerness to return ahead of schedule stems from two main reasons. First, there’s a workshop on an audio production project that aligns perfectly with my interests and experience. Second, there’s a symposium focusing on enhancing workplace diversity. I now feel more equipped to participate in this event than I did a few months ago, before my disability.
So, the countdown has officially begun.
Despite a month filled with various appointments since returning home, I didn’t have much on my agenda for today. The only item on my to-do list was to pick up a sink plug from the local hardware store – not the most glamorous task, I must admit.
However, as I strolled past the nearest bus stop, I made a spontaneous decision to hop on the next bus to “somewhere.” It happened to be the 374 to Coogee. I found a spot for myself, indulged in sashimi for lunch at the Coogee Pavilion, and took a leisurely walk along the beach. I was pleasantly surprised by the bustling activity, especially for a weekday.
While I prepare for my return to work, initially on a part-time basis, with medical appointments and rehabilitation occupying my weekdays, I couldn’t help but wonder if there’s a way to continue enjoying these spontaneous escapes.
Caroline Jones
You know how it is when you meet someone you really admire? At first, you don’t know what to say, you struggle to find the words, but then you find yourself in a conversation with them, and they weren’t as scary or whatever as you thought they would be.
Well, that’s how I found myself about 20 years ago when I met Caroline Jones, the legendary broadcaster.
I’m a little too young to remember her from 2BL and the “City Extra” days (and because I lived in the country) but I certainly remember her hosting “Four Corners”. It was compulsory viewing at 1pm on a Sunday in my childhood home.
And then years later, I remember loving hearing her Radio National program, “The Search for Meaning”, and more recently, from her appearances on “Australian Story”.
I was so sad to hear on Friday tonight that Caroline Jones had died.
I interviewed her many years ago, and this is one of my prized possessions: a signed copy of her autobiography.
I always thought of her as a broadcaster of great integrity. I’ll happily admit to being a little daunted to meet her, but I found her natural warmth quickly allowed me to relax.
It meant a lot for her to thank me for a “fine interview”.
There’s also a great line in this book, “An Authentic Life” which I often quote in which she declares, and I’m paraphrasing, that for many years people have thought that “seeing is believing”, however now an increasing number of people also recognise that “believing is seeing”.
I ran this radio segment on “Editor’s Choice” today. https://www.abc.net.au/radio/programs/editorschoice/caroline-jones/13892614
Sticky and Sneezy
“That’s because it’s such a disgusting and filthy place”, was the explanation offered by an inter-state colleague on the phone today, when I mentioned there was a bit of a pollution health warning on the radio this morning.
Although I’ve previously thought it might have been the spring clean I did at home on the weekend which led to my current case of hay fever, the news has confirmed my experience is much broader.
A health alert has been issued for some Sydneysiders to avoid outdoor exercise because of high pollution levels.
The Bureau of Meteorology says today’s air quality in Sydney is poor.
Children and those with breathing difficulties, such as asthma, are particularly at risk.
Although I’m feeling much better today than I was yesterday, I still feel a bit crook.
“I’m a bit of a hippie when it comes to this kind of thing” has been a recurrent comment I’ve made today as colleagues have suggested various drugs to deal with hayfever. “I’d rather my body dealt with it itself”, I’ve told them, as I honestly believe the human body is quite a resilient beast. My approach, rightly or wrongly, has been lots of fluids and lots of rest, and to let my body “heal itself”.
And generally speaking, this approach works, as I’m generally a fairly healthy person. It’s ages since I’ve had any major health problem, and the last time that happened, it required surgery. That’s one case where I don’t believe in letting my body “heal itself”. “Give me major pain control and whack it out”, was my attitude then.
In contrast, a bit of a sneeze is minor. Anyway, I’m sure it will all be fine, once the pollution clears.
Aside from that though, it’s been a pretty good day, especially at work.
In the midst of it all, I also had a chat on the phone with Damien who arrives back in Sydney on Saturday. Time flies? He’s currently in Beijing and having a great time.
It’s pretty cold there, as you might imagine, in stark contrast to Sydney. As I went for a walk down the street tonight, I couldn’t help but notice how sticky and yucky it is. I’m sitting here now with the balcony door open and there’s absolutely no breeze.
Generally speaking, I love Sydney in the summer, but right now, I gotta say, it could be better.
Moving House
No, not me. It’s my friend The Best Judge who is moving house in the next week or so. So I spent much of the day, along with another friend, helping him put things into boxes, and carrying things up and down stairs.
Although I’m a BIT of a hoarder, The Best Judge is on a much higher level. Thus it was a day of packing hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of CDs. Oh and vinyl too.
“Oh my goodness”, I shouted from the bedroom. “What’s up?’ came the reply. “Madonna’s first album was released on vinyl! Can you believe that?”, I said. That makes Madonna very old in my book.
As we three gentleman are of a certain age, I told them the story of a younger producer at work who needed help a couple of years ago in getting a track from an old vinyl record. “You just put the record on the turntable, make sure the needle and record are clean and find track 5 and bring it up through the desk…” I told her. It was as if I was speaking in a foreign language. I had to show her the gaps between tracks on a record, and how you had to count to find the track you were after. Seriously. I laughed for ages after that occurred.
Half way through the day I also amused my friends with the anecdote that I have a couple of tea chests in the garage which remain unopened from when I left Brisbane. “When did you leave Brisbane?, one asked. I responded simply, “1988”. I’m guessing that I no longer really need what’s contained in those tea chests, or… as I call them now… “my time capsules”. Odd, isn’t it, that I could have boxes which remain unopened, despite moves in between to Bourke, Renmark, Wagga Wagga, and then finally Sydney.
My dad was a hoarder too. It must be in the genes, this desire to hold on to physical things. Or perhaps there’s a deeper psychological thing going on?
Either way, things have been changing. For the last few months I’ve been engaged in an exercise of “de-cluttering” my life.
I’ve taken the one item a day model of removing things from my life which aren’t necessary, or which I no longer need. Every day I’ve vowed to remove one unnecessary item from my life. It could be a book. It could be a magazine. The magazines have been going to the recycling bins, and I’ve been giving the books to “the cosmos” (aka the back laneway) for whoever might want to collect them. And by and large, they’ve disappeared quickly.
I did something similar at work a couple of years ago, when, one day I concluded that I had too many cupboards and shelves, and that’s why I had so much stuff there also. In the industry I work in, we receive lots of CDs, DVDs and books every day. But now when I receive something new I rarely keep it, preferring instead to give it to someone else.
It’s quite liberating not to have “stuff”.
Update, Willow is a she.
I’m envious. As an only child and single I have never been an uncle and it seems I am never likely to be.
That’s a little sad Victor. Nieces and nephews are nice to have.