Not far from where I live there’s a really large restaurant space on Crown Street. In the almost twenty years I’ve lived in Sydney it’s had at least four or possibly five incarnations. I remember when it was called “Thai Orchid” (or something like that) back in the nineties. I think it was when it became “Yai” that the space was expanded. A few years ago, the cuisine changed from Asian to Italian, as it became “Cafe Sicilia” and more recently, “Franco Franco”. Throughout all of these incarnations, it’s a place I’ve enjoyed going to.
As with “Cafe Sicilia”, “Franco Franco” is “very Italian” with waiters who speak Italian to each other in conversation, and the other week, as I passed I noticed there was a large family party on the balcony celebrating a child’s confirmation. The two blokes sitting to our right tonight also spoke in Italian.
“We should pay with your credit card and we might get a discount”, I joked to my friend tonight (her surname is Italian, with an immigrant family history on her father’s side). For two mains (pasta and veal), an entree (a shared meats/cheese plate), and a fair amount of wine, we spent about $70 each. Although the service was a little slow tonight, and a little bit sloppy in parts, the staff were apologetic and threw in an extra couple of glasses of wine for free. Although we had planned enjoying a tasty desert, there wasn’t anywhere near enough room by the end.
“I still can’t understand why a bunch of ABC people would go to a commercial radio conference”, my friend Sue said to me earlier today, as we sat and waited for our respective flights back to Sydney.
“Despite working to different agendas – advertising sales vs public service – we both have similar objectives and goals around making radio: to engage with an audience”, I told her.
And that’s why I enjoyed so many of the sessions as “Radio Alive” held yesterday in Melbourne.
“The Drive Panel”, in particular, was interesting, to get an insight into how a number of commercial radio presenters approached their program. Topics ranged from how you might need to modify the content of your program around the time of the “school pick up” when there might be “young ears” in the car to the editorial decision-making around which guests should appear on the program.
Kate Langbroek’s comment, “If they have to come to Australia to promote their movie, it’s probably a shit movie” received a loud laugh from both commercial and ABC people in the room. Another member of the panel noted how he and his co-host had recorded a fifteen minute interview with a visiting celebrity that was in his own words “appalling”. “We cut it down to two and half minutes and put it to air”, he said, recounting his manager told him they didn’t “have to” put it to air. The uncomfortable connection between editorial and public relations in the media was well highlighted.
I was also pleased to hear Ben Fordham talk about his new approach to commercial AM radio talk. In a field mostly dominated by right-of-centre angry radio, he spoke about how he doesn’t feel the need to talk to politicians, and offer opinions that weren’t authentic. He also spoke about how the traditional approach to commercial talk radio is to begin the program with a fifteen minute opinion-based editorial. “At school pick up time, you’ve only got them for about ten minutes before they take the kids off to swimming”, so he explained his approach was to come on, give the audience three bits of short-sharp information, and get on with it”.
Will McMahon takes notes on his hand during the Drive panel at Radio Alive, tapping in to the wisdom of the older, more experienced people. Awesome!
Another panel, hosted by Virginia Trioli, in the style of Q&A with questions from the audience addressed some of the big contemporary issues in the media, including the #metoo movement, and onine trolling. Tracey Spicer said she thought the commercial radio industry had failed to respond to the #metoo movement, describing it as one of “the worst places” for sexual harassment. Later in the evening over drinks, a colleague who works at the ABC now, told me when she was young how someone who she worked with in commercial radio (and later at the ABC) had touched her breasts, while at the same saying “honk honk”. I was shocked. Being a man, and being a gay man, I’ve never really been aware of what many of my female friends and colleagues have endured. As a result of the #metoo movement, a number of them have since told me, and feel more comfortable about sharing this information. Hopefully, this openness will need to changes.
There were parts of the conference which were “very commercial”, focussing on advertising, clients etc, which I used as an opportunity to catch up with interstate colleagues. So all, in all, an awesome day.
Earlier in the week, I also attended #ozpod2018. It was also an awesome experience to sit down and enjoy some thoughtful discussions. Topics covered ranged from the authenticity you need in such an intimate listening experience (people mostly listen on headphones, not speakers) to the challenges of reaching a really broad audience. The podcast “industry” (both formats and in reality) is dominated by the east coast of America, and by Itunes. Even with reasonably high awareness and uptake in Australia, many podcasts are targetted towards a narrow segment of the audience, and fail to have much traction with the fifty-percvent of Australians (80% worldwide) who use Andrpoid phones.
For me, the most powerful, most interesting session of the day was based around the podcast, “No Feeling Is Final”, a podcast about mental health. Combining sections of live performance and Q&A, it was wonderfully honest, and what I really love about the rise of the podcast: the audio space to try out new ideas and formats in a space which the somewhat ephemeral nature of live, linear radio doesn’t often allow.
“You’ve got enough there to fill a boogie board, but here’s a letter to confirm it’s all legitimate in case you have problems at immigration”, the doctor half-joked to me today, referencing Schapelle Corby, as I went to get my vaccinations, ahead of my trip to Cambodia and Vietnam.
Minutes later, I was standing at the light rail at Town Hall on George Street, and one of the “street preachers” mentioned her name, though I missed the context. As you sit and wait at the light rail station, you miss half the sermons, as the trams pass you by. This can be a blessing.
Even so, it was odd to hear her name referenced twice in the space of thirty minutes. It was like being back in the mid-2000s all over again.
When I told the doctor where I was planning to visit, I emphasised we are on a package tour, and staying at “nice hotels”. He spoke about the importance of bottled water and avoiding ice. At first, I thought that was a drug reference, but of course, he was talking about frozen water.
He also mentioned the possibility of conditions like rabies and malaria. “That means we can have a gin and tonic every day and it’s therapeutic”, I joked in a message to the friends I’m travelling with.
The doctor seemed most concerned about the visit to Siem Riep in Cambodia, though I neglected to ask him why. The travel advice explains it in further detail.
As a child, I had all the necessary injections. In the 1960s, I also remember visiting the travelling vans for TB (tuberculosis), and knew that an older family member had diptheria during the 1950s. Then when I was in my late teens I had some overseas travel injections, though I don’t recall what they were. I’m old enough to have seen the reality of conditions so vaccination makes sense to me. I’m a TOTAL VAXXER! Since then, it’s mostly the annual flu injection (and more recently COVID) that I’ve worried about.
When he asked me about recent travel-related injections, I admitted I’d had none. Most of my overseas travel has been “first world”, with the exception of India, South Africa and China. With that, he recommended injections for Typhoid, Hepatitis A, Diptheria and Tetanus.
Maybe he was upselling? Either way, it was bloody expensive. But at least I’ve had the shots, and feel a degree of protection. And, I have a bag full of pharmaceuticals ready to go, along with that important letter.
“What do I need to prepare for lunch at work?” was the thought going through my mind the other night, as I walked around the supermarket. After three years of mostly working from home, I’m back in the office full-time for the next month or so.
As I walked up and down the aisles, I was looking for some meals I could easily heat or “assemble”. I was keen to avoid getting back into the routine of spending a lot of money every day on coffee and takeaway meals. Both are easy routines to fall back into.
IGA Supermarket at Newtown, Sydney
The other thing that’s concerned me about returning to the office is my increasing “social exhaustion”. I’d never heard the phrase “social exhaustion” until recently, as I sought solutions to prevent and recover from the “tiredness” I often feel after face-to-face catchups.
By nature, I’m an “introvert”, which I “discovered” about twenty years ago when I did one of those “Myers-Briggs” tests. It’s been very useful in my career to understand that extroverts usually like to “talk things through”, and introverts like to absorb the information and then “think it through themselves”. A total generalisation, of course, but still pretty relevant.
When we did the tests, I remember a significant number of senior managers I worked with at the time were also “introverts”.
How can that be, we all wondered, how can people working in radio be introverts? We concluded that it was because people who work in radio are generally sitting in a room by themselves speaking to just one person, on the telephone or face to face, unlike actors or people on television who are more inclined to “perform”.
The learning we all took away was that we had to work hard on our social interactions, to overcome our inherent introverted nature. And that’s what I’ve done throughout my career.
But after a long period of time living alone, and the last three years working alone, I’ve realised lately I’m out of practice.
Of course, “social exhaustion” pre-dated COVID-19, but there’s a lot of evidence it’s worsened during the pandemic, according to lots of articles I’ve read.
The advice I’ve read has concentrated on the need to “prepare” for social interactions. You need to play out some of the conversations and scenarios beforehand, and afterwards, you need to make a moment to “recover”.
After two days in the office, I’m still coming home and feeling quite tired. But I’m also “gearing up” for the next few weeks by accepting lots of invitations.
Mardi Gras and World Pride were a good start to things. And then on Saturday night, I caught up with Matthew (who reads this blog) and his partner. A lovely evening, Matthew. Great to meet Alex, and catch up for the first time in ages!! I’ve accepted a dinner date for Wednesday night. And I’m also going along to the opening night of the Sydney Writers Festival, an event that’s likely to involve lots of standing around and small talk.
Though I realise this blog can sometimes seem like an endless round of social interactions, most nights I’m sitting at home by myself, listening to music.
Maybe this will be the start of the next phase of my life? Getting out and about again?
The sound of ABBA could be heard wafting from the cafe of the Lutheran Church in Sydney tonight.
As part of our Swedish studies each week, we translate a song and have a discussion about the lyrics, how they work as texts, and, of course we listen to the song.
We’ve done a range of Swedish artists, but have so far avoided ABBA.
Tonight, however, we bit the bullet and did the original Swedish version of ABBA’s song, “SOS”.
Lutheran Church in Sydney which is also home to Svenska kyrkan i Sydney
It was originally recorded by Agnetha Fältskog for her album, Elva kvinnor i ett hus (Eleven Women In One House).
“I don’t remember the English lyrics”, said the woman who did this week’s translation.
“I remember them completely”, said another, noting the Swedish version was a little more bleak. Or maybe just a little more direct? Or maybe the translation was just a little more literal.
Whatever the case, it was good fun. And despite a couple of groans from some of the younger class members, I noticed just about everyone in the class was lip-synching along (in Swedish of course).
Class was quite good fun tonight, and especially since there were a few new faces.
It was a good way to end a day that I found a little more satisfying than yesterday.
I got online at just the right time. I re-set my previous registration. I followed the prompts at just the right time. I tried in both English and Swedish. And I still missed out on tickets for the finals for Melodifestivalen, the Swedish competition leading to Eurovision.
I’m going to be in Stockholm next March, with Melodifestivalen something I really want to attend. And so when I read tickets went on sale tonight at 6.00pm Sydney time, I was ready to go.
Tickets however seem to sell out almost instantly. I’d imagine tickets might become available later. Perhaps a Swedish fan could advise if that’s the case? Or I might need to go looking on the ticket black market? Anyway, I’m sure it will be fine. By hook or by crook I’ll be there.
As I mentioned yesterday, I’ve been umming and ahhing and faffing around for a couple of weeks now, but I’ve finally done it. I’ve booked a flight to Stockholm, arriving March 4 to spend four weeks there.
Unlike the last time, during the summer of last year, it will be a little colder. I’m even hoping there might be some snow, even though I’m generally a “warm climate” kinda guy myself.
Beyond a general idea of “living in Stockholm for a while”, and going to a work-related conference in Copenhagen on March 18 and 19, I’ve yet to work out what I’ll do.
Even though tickets for Melodifestivalen are sold out, I see Sarah Dawn Finer is playing Chinese Theatre during the month, and Bjorn Skiffs is at Circus.
For me the trip is on many levels. I’d like to see, for example, if I could “live” in a colder place than I am used to, where the days are shorter etc. If I can, I’m hoping to live or work in Stockholm for maybe a year. Who knows?
Anyway, I’m gonna be in Sweden/Denmark in March, and maybe elsewhere for a day or two.
Very bloody excited!
Aside from that, it’s been a reasonably eventless day. Well, aside from most of the people I encountered today being in a very silly mood. I blame the weather. It was far too nice a day to remain indoors. Or maybe it’s the phase of the moon?
I was chatting with mate at work who noted the moon had changed, and that probably helps to explain it. Or maybe it’s that time of the year? He updated his Facebook status with “I’m a farm boy trapped in a city – all I want is a vegie patch and chooks”.
“I know how you feel”, I told him. “I’m a Swedish boy trapped in Sydney – all I want is fashionable furniture and clothing, a democratic society and tickets to Melodifestivalen”.
Here’s a song I heard while on holidays which I’ve been listening to a fair deal since I’ve been back. The song is by a French singer, Mylene Farmer. Without oversimplifying, think Madonna, think Kate Bush, think Kylie, think Tori Amos. This song was the first release from her current album which topped the French charts.
Dead sexy, eh? This afternoon I’ve been listening to the album nice and loud (not enough to disturb the neighbours) and dancing around the lounge room. Ain’t life great?
The only unfortunate thing is I’ve discovered I’ve turned into an “arms and hips dancer”. You know the look I mean? You have your arms stretched out right above your head while you shake your hips in time to the music. I’ll be wearing little shorts next…
Nooooooo……
Otherwise, it’s been a simple day relaxing after last night’s dinner party where we “literally” sat up til dawn chatting about life, the universe and everything. “Do you realise it’s 3am?”, I said at one point. “Ah well, let’s go and get some ciggies” was the response. I didn’t smoke.
