I’m not one for early mornings these days. By nature, I’m a night-owl, as that’s when I find myself my most intellectually active. However. for years and years, working in radio, I needed to be up early, usually by about five or five-thirty am. The transition in the last few years to more “normal hours” has been a welcome change, as I generally now wake up about 7. Sometimes earlier. Sometimes later.
This morning, however, I needed to be up early again, and to be on radio, briefly at 6.40. I was due to chat with Adam Spencer on the third anniversary of digital radio in Australia. My key message was something along these lines… Three years ago very few people had digital radios, they were quite expensive, and they weren’t very mobile. Three years later, about 1.2-1.3 million people listen via digital, they’re generally very affordable, and they’re now becoming available in cars. Three years later there are many more stations available, including some new ABC stations and community radio. Three years later, streaming, including mobile, is now a more viable option for listeners, but data plans, and the lack of ubiquitous wifi means makes it still difficult for many. So the bottom line is analogue (AM/FM), digital, streaming can all work together to serve radio audiences. It doesn’t have to be “one or the other”, as many critics, writers and pundits have suggested.
Despite the early morning, it was a good experience, and it was fun to go along to see so many other people enjoying radio. The star turnout had to be SBS Pop Asia, with their inspired decision to have a visiting pop group. Lots and lots of people turned up, and hopefully will be new listeners for them. Congrats to the peeps at SBS for totally nailing it.
There’s something very odd and unsettling about Tuesday night. It’s the kind of night they do road-works because they know no one will complain all that much. It’s the kind of night when they put their second best shows on television. It’s the kind of night where you might have left-overs from last night’s dinner or buy something fatty and over-processed on the way home. It’s the kind of night where you might go on a blind date (or an internet date) with someone you’re not all that serious about. There’s something about a Tuesday night which says “I don’t care all that much….”
I noticed it tonight in the Crown Street restaurants of Surry Hills. Lots of couples, but not all that much intimacy. Maybe they were couples who no longer felt the need for those public displays of affection. I reckon though, they were “internet dates”, just not very serious ones. I think to choose a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night to meet up means you’re serious about the possibility of a relationship. You’re hopeful the Friday night date will turn into a Saturday lunch or a walk in the park, or maybe a movie, and then brunch on Sunday. There’s something about a Tuesday night internet date though, which means you’re saying to the other person you’re not really serious, unwilling to commit yourself to meeting them on one of the “more important” nights of the week.
I also felt the “who cares” factor as I wandered around the supermarket tonight. First and foremost, I noticed the quality of fruit and veg was very poor, leading me to believe it was probably left-overs from the weekends, ahead of tomorrow’s big delivery. Yes, I’m sure that’s how it was when I worked for Coles New World all those years ago. Gazing into shopping baskets of those beside me in the queue, there was no evidence of “the weeks big shop” that you would associate with the weekend. There was also no evidence of the “fresh is best” approach you would associate with a Monday night, a fresh start, a detox. No the shopping baskets were full of lots of processed food, high in fat, comfort food. Two women in the queue next to me had about half a dozen “chick flick” DVDs in their basket, leading to a minor debate about whether or not they were a good purchase. It was resolved pretty quickly. “Hang the expense” I heard one of them say.
As I got closer to home I overheard another conversation, between a young woman and I assume her parents. “Well that’s another birthday over and done with”, I heard mum say. “Yep, you’re right there”, the daughter replied.
Even now, as I begin to watch “Big Brother Up Late” they’re all just sitting around, bored senseless. Mind you, with BB, that could be any night of the week.
But you see what I mean? The weekend is over, and Tuesday night is now about as far away as it could possibly be from another weekend. I mean, I know Wednesday is officially half way between Sunday and Saturday, but it’s made easier because it’s “hump day”, the day that you need to get over, and once you do, you’re on the roller-coaster again.
Tuesday night. Meh.
Audio
Brief excerpt of Peter Joback singing “I Don’t Care Much” from the CD “Storybook”
There’s a terrific episode of “The Simpsons” where the family travels with Apu to India, and where Homer keeps repeating the line “are we in India yet?”.
Chuckling to myself, I kept saying the line over and over in my head, because it now makes sense completely. It’s a long way to India. In the world of airline food, the flight is “two full meals and two snacks” long. Though it was supposed to be almost 13 hours long, we made it in 12.
“Would you like the vegetarian or the non-vegetarian?”, I was asked by the flight attendant on the Air India flight from Sydney to Delhi. Coming from a meat-eating culture, it surprised me. I was half-expecting the standard “beef and rice” or “chicken and rice” that you’re generally offered on international airlines, these days, but of course beef and India don’t mix. I chose meat both times, chicken curry and rice for lunch, and then a chicken tikka dish for dinner. In both cases, the meals were delicious.
When we booked Air India several months ago, we had no idea what to expect. But since the return price to Spain (which included a stop-over in Delhi) was so incredibly cheap ($990 return), I would have been happy sitting on the wing. As I’ve researched the airline over the last few months, I’ve been pleasantly surprised at what I’ve read. And I’m pleasantly surprised by the flight. It’s nothing flash, but it’s also not terrible. The flight was good, with friendly service, comfortable seats, a reasonable entertainment system, and best of all, there were a few free seats. In fact when we took off, I had three seats to myself. Eventually, someone in a neighbouring seat came and joined me in one of the other seats. But even so, I was able to stretch out and relax.
I slept for a bit. I listened to some music, and to a Spanish language course, and feel reasonably confident that I can order coffee, beer, white wine, red wine, and ask for the bill. That’s all I’m gonna need, right?
So, am I in India yet? No, not yet. Not really. As part of the flight deal, there’s an overnight stay at the Holiday Inn Express, located within the airport, the other side of security. The reviews online range from “worst hotel ever” to “great for a stopover”. Looking at the profiles and demographics who described it was the “worst hotel ever” were probably the same people in Shirley Valentine on the Greek island who insisted on “British food”. My room is clean, has a view of international check-in, and the internet’s pretty good. They say they have a “bar” which I went to earlier, but it’s actually just the breakfast room. I giggled slightly, recognising the look of disappointment on the faces of the people who came in expecting something a little more sophisticated. Anyway, I’m back in my room, and I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep ahead of tomorrow’s flight to Madrid.
You know those stupid machines at the supermarket deli where you’re given a number and have to wait your turn, even if there are only two or three other people waiting? Minutes go by (it seems like hours) while your eyes remained focussed on the display above as you wait for your number to be called.
My Swedish teacher, Marianne once joked she thought they HAD to be a Swedish invention. Of all the countries in the world, the Swedes seem the most inclined to form queues without thinking twice about it. Here in Australia, we’re also very egalitarian, but we usually tend to get a little grumpy when it comes to queues, and of course, we “don’t like queue jumpers” :)
My most famous memories of waiting in queues in Sweden were on a Saturday afternoon minutes before the closure of the state-run bottle shop, Systembolaget, and in a phone shop.
In Sweden, there’s a government-owned monopoly bottle shop chain called Systembolaget, which operates with restricted hours. On weekdays, it’s normal trading hours; shorter hours on Saturday; and they’re closed Sunday. At night, bars also have limited trading hours with many closing at one, others at three.
And as much as I like to think of myself as a bit of a libertarian, I’m beginning to conclude these restrictions might actually be a good thing. By putting a limit on the hours in which you can purchase and consume alcohol, I think there’s more of a chance that people will go home to bed, as opposed to the all-night temptation offered in Sydney.
Although Systembolaget now operates like a supermarket chain, it wasn’t so long ago that you had to go in, make an order for what you wanted, and then wait for someone to bring your order out to you. There’s a few of these older style shops still around, apparently.
Systembolaget Södermalm
As for the phone shop, I also remember vividly waiting with Graeme in a queue in Stockholm. We were the only people in the queue, but we were still forced to go through the farce of waiting as they called out the numbers of people who were “before us” in the queue, but who had obviously already been dealt with. “77, 78, 79, 80”, the assistants called out the numbers, as if in a scene from Monty Python, looking around to see if any of the other people might have been hiding, until finally our number was called out.
Queuing for nightclubs in Sydney has for many years been a real joke. On NYE especially, nightclub bouncers make on with the pretense their club is full, and people are thus forced to wait in a lengthy queue down the street when mostly they’re only half-empty. It’s all about making the nightclub look to the potential customer as somewhere they simply must enter since, after all, there’s a queue.
More recently, places like the Bourke Street Bakery (not far from where I live) have also become regular spaces where people will queue. I kinda understand it there, as the shop is very small, but I still think it’s bizarre that people will queue for bread. I mean, it’s Sydney; not 1976 in Poland.
Surry Hills must be the only place outside the former Soviet Union where people queue for bread.
The latest crazy queue in Sydney is the ice cream queue. There’s an ice cream shop in Darlinghurst where there’s regularly a queue of 50 or 60 people waiting. “It’s fucking ice cream”, a friend of mine observed last night, wondering why people would be prepared to wait 20 to 30 minutes in a queue.
Queuing for Ice Crime
The similarities between Sydney and Stockholm seem to be increasing every day…
“I don’t mind if we get wet. I love getting rained on”, I said to Kate as we sat on the steps of the Sydney Opera House. In hindsight, I probably should have checked the weather before leaving the house, but since I wearing shorts, I figured getting wet wouldn’t be much of a problem. And besides that, it was a great thing to be part of, the 25th anniversary performance by Bangarra Dance Theatre.
Kate arrived earlier than I did, and so secured us terrific seats in the front row. For a couple of hours we sat there, chatted, ate and drank a little, as we watched and waited for the show to commence.
As I checked the weather radar, we overheard a couple of security guards chatting, offering their thoughts on the likelihood (or rather unlikelihood) of the show going ahead. For a while it didn’t look good. On two or three occasions cleaners came on stage to mop off the water. Even that had a certain theatricality about it. “You could put that in a theatre, charge thirty bucks, and say it’s edgy”, I joked.
The sheer risk of electrocution for the band and injury for the dancers meant they were only about to deliver a much scaled down version of what was planned. Nonetheless, it was a great evening, and one we (and many others) enjoyed very much.
Choregoraphed cleaning ahead of the Bangarra Dance Theatre 25th celebration at Sydney Opera HouseBangarra Dance Theatre at Sydney Opera HouseBangarra Dance Theatre at Sydney Opera House
It’s one of my worst nightmares: standing at the corner of Cleveland and Crown Streets (Surry Hills) and witnessing someone being knocked over and killed by a car. If you’ve ever stood at the lights at one of the four corners you’ll know it’s not a crazy fantasy.
In the last hour or so I’ve crossed the intersection twice (to and from the supermarket) and have seen people on both occasions walk out from the kerb into the middle of the oncoming traffic. It wouldn’t have taken much for either one of them to have been swiped, especially since Cleveland Street is reasonably busy on the weekend, and since they were probably a bit “out of it”.
Drug and alcohol abuse is most likely the main reason for this phenomenon. Sometimes they’re walking really slowly, weaving in and out. Other times they’re walking really quickly, with a determined look in their eyes. It’s a very weird and scary thing to witness.
Cleveland Street, Surry Hills
According to some figures, I saw a couple of years ago, about 9 or 10 accidents involving cars and pedestrians occur on Cleveland Street every year, though I don’t recall how many of those result in deaths. And yet oddly enough, since I’ve lived in the area for almost twenty years, I’ve never witnessed one. In fact the only accident I’ve witnessed involved myself when I misstepped the kerb and fell to the ground with my shopping bags being sent asunder.
I was both excited and surprised when my sister asked me tonight if I was on Skype? We were chatting about life in general, what she’s been up to, what I’ve been up to, her plans for retirement, and my plans to visit China. It was a lovely conversation.
And then all of a sudden she asked me if I had Skype.
It was not the kind of conversation I expected to have with her. As I’ve mentioned previously, in my family I’ve tended to be the “tech guy”.
About ten years ago when UHF television was introduced on the North Coast, I spent at least two days of my Christmas holiday on the rooftops of various family members doing antenna installations. And then about two years ago, when digital set-top boxes became all the rage, at least half a dozen of them sat in cardboard boxes until I was home for Christmas and able to do the very basic installations. Don’t get me wrong, I love doing it, and in the midst of a family of carpenters, cooks, sewers, plumbers and mechanics, it’s good to know I have an important role: “the tech guy”.
When I accidentally discovered Skype HQ in Stockholm in March this year
But tonight, as we chatted, Pat told me her daughter had recently bought her a laptop, and although she doesn’t know how to connect to the internet yet, she’s seen Skype work and would like to try it out with me.
I’m not sure how I feel about this. It seems my monopoly on all things technical might be coming to an end.
If family members can now connect to the internet and chat to me on Skype, what role will I have this summer when I go home for Christmas? I can’t just sit around and do nothing. Well, actually for much of summer, I’ll be working from our office on the North Coast. But in between, what will I do?
I’ve booked a ticket for Tropical Fruits NYE, but that’s just one day. I’ll go out for lunch and dinner with friends, of course. But what will I do in the meantime, if my family no longer has need for “the tech guy”? I’m feeling slightly redundant to my own existence :(
Anyway, Pat and I are planning a Skype conversation for Saturday afternoon which, I guess, means I need to tidy up the lounge room before then.
PS. I tried out the re-opened Charcoal Chicken Shop tonight. As I expected, it’s a little more “upmarket” these days, specialising in Portuguese Chicken – the flattened type with chili sauce – which was very, very, tasty.
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Where was the outside broadcast? Ours was in Fed Square.
Phillipa – after some rain last night, and even some hail, it was good to have such a lovely morning. I sat for about 15 minutes quietly overlooking the opera house and watching the world go by. Very peaceful.
thanks james for your reply.the last time i was in sydney (3 yrs ago or more) i managed to see a navy sub in the harbour it was just as the first ray of light came out
I’m one of the 1 in 8! And it’s really annoying when I’m listening to something interesting on 702 digital at work, and then the AM version is playing sportcrap™ in the car on the way home! Need to look into car digital radios…
Where was the outside broadcast? Ours was in Fed Square.
Andrew it was in “First Fleet Park” which is the park between the Museum of Contemporary Art and the Cahill Expressway.
hi james
thanks for the email i love the pictures of the bridge an opera house
Phillipa – after some rain last night, and even some hail, it was good to have such a lovely morning. I sat for about 15 minutes quietly overlooking the opera house and watching the world go by. Very peaceful.
thanks james for your reply.the last time i was in sydney (3 yrs ago or more) i managed to see a navy sub in the harbour it was just as the first ray of light came out
Ok, walked through there on our last Sydney visit. Bit out of the way. Martin Place might have been good.
Was in Martin Place in 2009 – not sure why it wasn’t this time.
I’m one of the 1 in 8! And it’s really annoying when I’m listening to something interesting on 702 digital at work, and then the AM version is playing sportcrap™ in the car on the way home! Need to look into car digital radios…
I listen to digital at home and at work, and stream between the two. http://www.abc.net.au/radio/mobile/
I like how Vladimir Putin is looking over your shoulder. Is there a subliminal message in that? 😊