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Australia Day 2007
It’s late morning on the day after Australia Day, 2007. I probably did more this week to celebrate Australia Day than I’ve ever done in the past, having attended a few official functions, as well as yesterday’s activities in Hyde Park, The Rocks and last night’s Darling Harbour Fireworks.
It was actually the first time I’d been to the Darling Harbour Fireworks, having previously avoided them, believing they’d be far too crowded for my liking to attend. But no, they weren’t. Darling Harbour easily holds 150,000 people without too much discomfort. Regrettably, however, Darling Harbour doesn’t cope well with 150,000 people leaving at about the same time.

While waiting for the fireworks to begin, I got to chatting with an older couple visiting from The Channel Islands. They were clearly unaware of the significance of Australia Day and had a number of questions for me such as “Do you get the day off”, and “Are these all your popular songs”, a reference to the music being played in the fireworks countdown. It was clear to me the mixture of well known tracks by “Hunters & Collectors”, “INXS”, “Split Enz” could only have been programmed by a forty-year old man, so I explained to her, “Yes, but only from a very narrow piece of Australian musical history”. It wasn’t until the fireworks themselves that we heard anything even remotely contemporary. “It’s funny”, she said, “because I don’t know any of them”. Nor did most of the audience who were, by and large, not forty year old men.
And then as the National Anthem began to play she asked me another question, “Don’t you sing the national anthem?”. I’d actually noticed I was the only person in our area singing along, something I put down to large tourist numbers, rather than anything else. I felt my own embarassment though when they launched into the mysterious second verse, which I explained to her most Australians didn’t know the words to. At that point I decided one of my resolutions for 2007 would be to learn the second verse of Advance Australia Fair .

I was quite conscious yesterday of notions of national identity and pride, having spent the day with Tony, a member of ABBAMAIL visiting from Sweden. Wearing an Australian flag hat, Tony seemed to enjoy the day immensely, as we visited Hyde Park, The Rocks , The Wharves and, of course, for a couple of beers at Opera Bar. There were times when I felt a little of the cultural cringe, as various people declared Australia the best country in the world. The woman next to us as Darling Harbour said, “It’s a little parochial isn’t it?” Yes, I said, “Australia is a great country, but there are great other countries too”.
The display of nationalism seemed stronger than ever yesterday with many thousands of people draping themselves in the flag. I noticed a few lone figures – and yes, they were all by themselves – wearing T-shirts which declared, “If you don’t love Australia, leave”, which worried me. And there was something I saw out of the bus window where a group of older men, wearing Australian flags, who seemed to be taunting a group of young Asian women. But by and large these incidents seemed to be fairly isolated, and it’s hard to know whether it’s a new and growing phenomenon or not.
Clearly notions of national identity have been in the minds of many lately following those stupid comments by the Sheikh. I try to believe he’s just like Fred Nile was thirty years ago, with his every utterance – no matter how out of touch they are – reported by a naive media. For years, the Reverend Fred would appear at Mardi Gras and the media would assiduously report his comments about abomination, Leviticus and the like, until eventually they just lost interest. The same with Pauline. Hopefully it’s all just part of the history cycle, not something more serious.
In contrast to the over-the-top jingo-istic and flag-waving elements of Australian nationalism, I thought Thursday’s Australia Day lunch was a smart, sophisticated way of acknowledging the holiday and our notions of national identity. It was the first time I’d attended the Official Lunch for Australia Day, and so had little idea of what to expect. The company was good, the food was good, and the entertainment was great. Some of the performances – including David Campbell’s version of “The Forgotten Years”, Tim Friedman/Richard Clapton’s version of “Best Years Of My Life” and Bangarra Dance Theatre’s “Moth” – were all really tremendous.
Former NSW Treasurer, and now NSW Australia Day Chairman, Michael Egan told a wonderful anecdote about his First Fleet ancestry. One of his convict ancestors, apparently, carried the first NSW Governor, Arthur Phillip on his shoulders, as the First Fleet came to shore in 1788, with Michael Egan declaring “I used to tell former Premier, Bob Carr, I wasn’t the first member of my family to carry the weight of NSW on his shoulders”.
Speaking of which, the current NSW Premier, Morris Iemma also gave a fairly powerful and convincing speech in which he argued his views about the idea of multiculturalism within Australian national identity. Without wishing to oversimplify the essence of his argument, he seemed to be saying “multiculturalism” (as we’ve come to know it) is transition stage in which migrants are politely introduced into their new country. He was at pains to point out, he’s not an advocate of assimilation, but of the idea that Australian identity is constantly evolving and being influenced by waves of immigration, and that it’s all about remembering the past, but looking forward.
On a much lighter note, there was was the launch of the Australia Post “Legends” stamp series, acknowledging some of the most influential figures in Australian horse-racing. HG Nelson introduced the likes of Johnny Tapp and Bart Cummings to a very welcoming audience of 1,500 people.
Also this week, I went to the Australia Day Lecture, held Tuesday night at the Conservatorium of Music, given by Kim Williams, Foxtel’s CEO. It was an excellent speech, well illustrated with sound and video, in which he explained how he believed notions of Australian identity were inextricably linked with the media.
In our young nation – and I refer here to the time since political federation in 1901 – the role of film, radio and television in the development of that contemporary identity is more prominent than for nations with longer inherited histories which inevitably drive different outcomes. We, as the national anthem says, are ‘young and free’ – more open to the impact of film and TV than older societies.
Evidence of this has continued through the week in the way in which the media has both influenced, and been used, to advance notions of Australian identity. With fears of racial violence, the organisers of the Big Day Out, had asked people this week not to bring Australian flags to the event. In a typically Australian way, people responded by taking as many flags as possible.
I’m still a little tired from a full week of activities. I have no major plans for the weekend except for going to see a preview screening of “The Last King of Scotland”, the new film about Idi Amin. I’ll probably also go to the gym later this afternoon. So hopefully, just a relaxing weekend.
Mind you, it’s a warm day outside, though not outrageously hot. But the wind has picked up, and I have that “oh no, it’s gonna be a bushfire day” feeling.
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Mondayitis

“There’s a distinct whif of Mondayitis in the air”, I said to a colleague as we waited together in the coffee queue.
At this stage, I hadn’t actually arrived at work. We were standing in the queue of a nearby coffee shop which has become an unofficial “staff canteen” in some ways.
It was about eight o’clock and even by then I’d picked up on the World’s Largest Case of Mondayitis.
After the greater weather this weekend, tonight it’s gloomy and grey. And they’re forecasting blizzard-like conditions for some parts of NSW.
It was unseasonably warm last night and I hardly slept a wink, as I tossed and turned with the window open and with just a sheet and light blanket covering me.
Maybe that’s why I had a case of Mondayitis? Maybe that’s why everyone seemed to have a case of Mondayitis today?
As I caught the bus and walked to work this morning, there was a feeling in the air.
You didn’t have to look at the upside down smiles on people’s faces. You could just feel it in the air that a significant number of people in Sydney would have preferred staying in bed today.
It’s funny, isn’t it, that we’re so governed by the weather (nature) is Australia’s most urbanised city?
Maybe it’s because we’re surrounded by water, and because we’re made of water, we go through ups and downs, just like the cycles of the moon?
When it’s warm and sunny, there’s a genuine sense of joy in everyone. And then when it’s rainy and grey, we all become the same.
Sydney-siders don’t cope well with extended periods of rainy weather. We all get a little stir-crazy after a while, I’ve noticed.
I don’t ever remember feeling this way when I’ve lived in the country, or even in Brisbane or Perth where I’ve also lived for extended periods of time. I do, however, remember vividly the first time it rained in Perth after two months of living there. It was a Sunday afternoon when the rain first hit the bitumen, and in celebration I just went outside and stood in the rain and got wet.
Work today was quite good. A meeting I was apprehensive about turned out well. I achieved a fair bit, actually. But still I had a feeling of listlessness about me, which I put down to the weather.
Maybe it’s because Sydney is such an urbanised place, that our bodies need to react against it, to full embrace and be influenced the weather and nature? Or maybe I’m just talking rubbish?
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Eurovision Countdown

And one of the traditions of each year’s party is scoresheets with a “prize” for the person who scores closest to the people of Europe with their top three (or thereabouts). So, yes, the person with the worst taste in music.
Mind you, the scoring can vary somewhat, taking into account such diverse criteria as tune, lyrics, dance routines, fashon and general hotness. Each person scores according to their own preference. I, for example, like a good tune.
The person who gets closest to the top three wins a prize (something crap from the $2 shop) with a Eurovision theme. Previous prizes have included a minitature Eurovision-style trophy and a globe. For this year, I’ve gone back to the early days of Eurovision, with a statue of a woman in an long evening dress.
Those attending tonight include Graeme, Grant, Ian & Ian and four first timers:
Trashi, Schlager Lout, Papertrap and The Other Andrew who has already blogged about the semi-final.
Throughout the night, I’ll be posting photographs, videos and comments. But for now, it’s back to the dishes!
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Catchup Thursday
It was one of those incredibly wonderful days.
Yvette and I caught up for lunch at a nearby Chinese and shared life-stories. It seems like both of us are in a reasonably good place at the moment.
And then tonight, Damien and I caught up for dinner. Initially, we had a small bite to eat at Agave, the new Mexican place I mentioned the other week, and then at Yulli’s my favourite small bar in Surry Hills.
It’s great, isn’t it, to have one of those really great days when you get to catch up with people you’ve known so well for so long?
Oh, and I bought a couple of tickets for the forthcoming performance of Forbidden Broadway in Sydney.
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A little bit of Sweden in Perth
It’s mid-afternoon in Perth, and I’m back in my room with the fan on maximum rotation trying to cool down after an interesting and busy day.
I started the day off with a coffee, a smoked salmon baguette, and an apple strudel at a Swedish cafe.
Even in Perth, there’s a little bit of Sweden, it seems. Well, more than a little bit; quite a lot actually, as there are fifteen locations across Perth where you’ll find a “Miss Maud” eating house. There are sandwich shops, pastry shops, coffee shops, and even a “Swedish Hotel” on the corner of Pier and Murray Streets.
According to the Miss Maud website, Miss Maud came to Australian in 1971 where she…
fell in love with the sunny disposition of the people, the long golden beaches, not to mention the wonderful weather.
But, she then goes on to say…
But how I missed the warm, inviting restaurants and quaint little sidewalk cafés of Sweden. And never more, than when my mother arrived from Stockholm for a visit.Where could I take her for a nice lunch or a splendid afternoon tea? I yearned for rich Swedish coffee and traditional open-faced Swedish sandwiches like the Shrimp Boat and Gangplank. Back then my mother and I had to settle for a counter meal at the local pub. Not quite where a couple of ladies would go to enjoy each other’s company. I decided it was time to bring a little taste of Sweden to Perth.In 1971 “Miss Maud” was born.
Forty years later and I’m not sure Miss Maud’s remains a “little bit of Sweden” in Perth. At the coffee shop this morning I noticed a Princesstorta and even a Queen Silvia Cake, and there were smoked salmon and prawn baguettes, but pretty much everything else seemed pretty “mod oz” to me.
But the business remains very successful. In fact, a colleague argued to me yesterday the case Miss Maud was the reason why there isn’t a Starbucks in Perth. He told me Starbucks did the maths and decided Miss Maud and Dome and a few others pretty much had the coffee market in Perth sewn up, and so haven’t bothered to open an outlet here. Praise The Lord!
After breakfast I wandered around for a while, and then listened to my favourite tech podcast, TWIG, before catching the ferry down to Fremantle. I had some lunch, I bought a shirt, looked in some shop windows, I looked around the Maritime Museum, a replica of The Endeavour, went to the beach, checked out a few tourist information places, and generally had a very pleasant time.
Even though this visit for Perth is for work, today felt very much like a holiday, I must admit. Happy New Year!
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Chinese Bible
I think pretty much everyone in the room laughed in recognition, as Gene Sherman told the story about the promise she and her husband had made to each other. As she noted they had been married forty-seven years and were a family that “kept promises”, she went on to say they had agreed and promised to stop purchasing art. As they approach their 70s, they realised they had close to 900 works at various locations around Sydney, and that was probably enough for them to handle. Visiting Hong Kong, however, she came across the work “Chinese Bible” by Yang Zhichao, declaring it today “the greatest work in our collection”.

And what a purchase! A collection of about 3,000 personal diaries from the time of China’s Cultural Revolution, currently on display at Sydney’s Sherman Gallery. Dr Geremie Barme from the Australian National University (who opened today’s exhibition) said the diary entries range from shopping lists to “careful thoughts”. He also noted it was often practiced during those years for people to burn their diaries, mindful they might fall into the hands of the authorities.

As you enter the gallery, you’re immediately overwhelmed by the scale of the artwork. It took three days to lay them out carefully in order on specially prepared plinths, we were told today. And then you look more closely at the works, the beautiful covers, and wonder what’s inside. Twenty-five of the diaries have been translated into English, which you can read on computers at the back of the gallery.

For me, this blog is like a diary, though nowhere as personal as something I might have written by hand and without thinking there would be a broader audience, preferring to keep my “darker thoughts” to myself. As I wandered home I thought about my own childhood diaries where I did just that. Sadly, they were washed away in the big Lismore flood of the late 1980s.







