Sweden meets Australia
Nice surprise in the mail today. A couple of t-shirts I ordered online a while back.
The first time I’ve ever bought something from an ad I’d clicked on Facebook:)
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Live Shows Again
“It’s almost back to normal, though they say it will be 2025 before it’s really back to normal”, my next-door neighbour commented as we spoke today.
We often chat in the stairwell, or the common area, or outside the garbage room. She works in designing fabrics and furnishings for the hotel industry, and will often spread fabric out on the floor outside my apartment.
When COVID hit, she was instantly out of work for several months, as was her partner, but they seem to be going okay now.
I had a similar chat with my neighbour on the other side the other day. I was having a coffee and cake for afternoon tea at a local coffee shop, and he stopped by and we chatted for quite some time. He was also out of work for a while, but also seems to be doing okay now.
In the last week or so I’ve also felt things were almost back to “normal”. Despite the thousands of daily cases, and the daily deaths, the city seems to be full of people again. Well, maybe not like it was a few years ago, but more than it’s been for quite some time.
Last night, after shopping at Woolworths Town Hall, I called into the pub next door and had a beer. For the last couple of years, I’ve often been the only person in there. But last night the place was full. There was only one seat left. I felt a little uncomfortable with the crowds, and so left after only one drink.
Along with a couple of friends I had attended a talk at the NSW Parliament by Catherine Fisher
Australia’s ‘golden age of radio’ gave women a political voice like never before. Dame Enid Lyons, the first woman elected to the Australian House of Representatives, said that radio ‘created a bigger revolution in the life of a woman than anything that has happened anytime. Join us for the next in our House Talks series where historian Catherine Fisher examines how Lyons and other early female parliamentarians used broadcasting to shape their engagement with the electorate and develop their public profiles. Dr Catherine Fisher holds a PhD from the School of History at The Australian National University. Her first book, Sound Citizens: Australian Women Broadcasters Claim their Voice, 1923-1956 was published by ANU Press in 2021.
As “radio people”, my friend and I found the talk fascinating. In particular, the description of Enid Lyons as the “sonic embodiment” of “acceptable” women in public life during the 1940s. Her elocution was beautiful.
But we also laughed at the references to female voices on the radio during the 1940s/1950s. In particular, Catherine mentioned female voices on radio were often described as “shrill”. Though we’re both aged in our 50s, and you would have thought that kind of dismissal of women on the radio had disappeared in the 1950s, we have both that workplace experience. “Only a couple of weeks ago”, I told the audience during the Q&A, “…a very well known (legendary) female radio presenter I know, received a text message critical of her voice and diction, even though she has a beautiful voice and wonderful diction”. She also told me many older men and women described her as “shrill”.
I’ve actually been out a few times over the last week.
Last Wednesday, those same friends and I went to see an exhibition of “political posters” at the Lord Gladstone Hotel. As the curator of the exhibition was Damien Minton (a mate) who was an ALP candidate in last year’s council elections, there was a definite “lefty bias” to the posters. But there were still some great moments of humour.
And then on Saturday, another friend and I went to see a cabaret show called “Stage Fright ein Kabarett” which is described as “an enticing and touchingly twisted, droll homage to Marlene Dietrich by character comedienne Jude Bowler. Nobody’s muse, everybody’s icon, a modern-day Dietrich – bored and mad as ever”.
It was the first time in maybe a year since I’d seen some live music, and awesome that it was some cabaret.
I also caught up with friends for lunch to celebrate a 60th birthday.
And then on Sunday night, I went to the Sydney Comedy Festival to see Vanessa Larry Mitchell, a Lismore-based comedian who goes under the name “Larry Laughs Loud”. who I had seen perform a couple of times last year.
“I know your face”, she said to me, as we chatted after the show. Last year, I was the but of her jokes in a Wednesday night show at the Northern Rivers Hotel in Lismore.
We chatted briefly about Lismore.
As soon as I said where my family lived, and as soon as she told me where she lived, there wasn’t much else to say. We knew each other’s experience intimately. She, like many others, lost everything in the flood. It’s great, however, that she was able to see some humour in her own situation, as she did a monologue of about 60 minutes.
Her show has the BEST NAME EVER : “Tears On My Dildo”. In the show, she admitted she had, indeed, lost her sex toys in the flood. I have a family member who I chatted to a few weeks ago who also mentioned she had “lost her little battery friend” in the flood. “We don’t need food or clothes, Jim”, she said, “…but if you could organise to send us a collection of dildos or vibrators, that would be great”.
An election promise?
The Travel Agent
Organising travel is both exhilarating and exhausting, I’ve concluded this weekend.
I’m now at the “pointy end” of organising my forthcoming, reasonably lengthy holiday. And while some people like to organise their holidays to within an inch of their lives, I’m a little more relaxed about things. That said, I do like to know I’ll have a roof over my head, and I have prepared a spreadsheet which covers the key issues of accommodation and transportation. This time around, my friend Sue is also coming along for part of the trip, and so I have an added – welcomed – sense of responsibility to make sure we have plans in place.
There are a couple of very exciting things I’ll be doing on this trip. I’ve booked some side-trips to Turkey and Iceland.
In the case of Turkey, it’s a place about which I’ve heard a number of people say “oh you must go there”. I’m co-inciding this trip with the Anzac Day commemorations, and am in the midst of finalising some plans in that regard.
In the case of Iceland, it’s a place which has fascinated me for a number of years. Every couple of years as I’ve planned a trip, I’ve tried to find a way to visit. Unfortunately, it’s always seemed a little expensive, and a little too far. Since both the GFC and the volcanic explosion a couple of years ago, the economy of Iceland has changed to the extent I can now afford to visit. I’ve found a nice little place to stay in the centre of Reykjavik, and have booked myself on a two-day “adventure holiday”.
In the midst of all this, for the very first time, I’m using airbnb to organise my/our accommodation. That’s involved a fair bit of searching, some to-ing and fro-ing, and behind-the-scenes, a bit of apprehension about staying in apartments owned by individuals, rather in a hotel or a hostel.
BUT it’s coming together, and I’m beginning to feel quite bloody excited.
Sandra Sully and 9/11
Damien and I were watching Channel 10 News with Sandra Sully when news broke of the 9/11 attacks. That was our routine at the time: watch the news, and then head off to bed. I still remember the slightly frazzled look on Sandra’s face as she looked down and read from a piece of paper – obviously too soon to add to the auto-cue – about the attacks.
We stayed watching the coverage for several hours. We spoke to friends on the phone. We drank a bottle of wine. We worried for a while this was going to happen all around the world: New York, Washington, London, Paris, and eventually Sydney. The thought of an attack on Sydney went through our minds for quite some time, especially as we lived so close to the CBD. Weeks later, there were the anthrax scares,
I woke early the next morning, and when I went to work, I had to confront – as a broadcaster – the issue of what to do on the radio on the radio that day. It had been a big week already with the collapse of Ansett Airlines. And now, there a major world story with implications for all. About half of each hour that I was on the radio was dedicated to national news coverage. As I recall, for the remainder of each hour we continued to talk about what had occurred, interviewing people we knew were there – such as a delegation of NSW Farmers – and giving listeners the opportunity to express their feelings.
And on the following day, we had planned an outside broadcast from the Illawarra Folk Festival. As it turned out, it was probably a good thing. The half-hour news specials continued, and in between, we featured a bunch of folk musicians who sang about peace. It was the right combination, I think, in hindsight.
In the UK, it’s the July 2007 events that remain in their minds. In Australia (and Indonesia), it’s the Bali Bombings that remains in our minds.
As I sit and watch tonight’s commemoration I’m reminded of that night ten years ago and think about how much the world has changed. The internet has changed the world with an increasing level of internationalism, which is a good thing. But we’ve also seen a dramatic increase in racism and nationalism, evident in the recent killings in Norway. We’ve also seen some polarisation between religious groups, but also increasing levels of inter-faith activity.
In the same way that Nazism and Communism changed the world, and yet we “recovered”, let’s hope the same thing happens again.
The video of Sandra Sully crossing to the attacks is on Youtube, though unfortunately the sound is really crap.
Bangarra 25
“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.
Travel Plans – Wanderlust and Stumpy: Charting My European Adventure
Well here I am again, wrestling with the joyous puzzle of travel planning. If it all goes ahead, this would be my first international trip since 2017 – before COVID, and, more significantly, before my lower right leg amputation. I’m itching to explore Europe, but a few factors are adding a bit of spice to the decision-making process.
Stockholm: Less Clubbing, More…Scenery?
It’s been over a decade since I last attended Melodifestivalen, the Swedish finals for Eurovision. Even though I’m not as Eurovision-obsessed as I was back then, it could still be a fun excuse for a visit. In the past, I was also drawn to Stockholm’s vibrant gay nightlife. However, late-night clubbing might not be on the agenda this time around – I’m older now, and navigating those scenes with a prosthetic leg adds another layer of complexity. That said, I’m still curious about returning to Sweden for the first time since 2017, and I’ve even been brushing up on my Swedish lately!
Paris: Always a Good Idea
If I had to pick a favorite European city, Paris would be a strong contender. The romance, the food, the architecture – it’s simply magical. I first visited in 2008, and it stole my heart. A return trip is definitely calling my name. I’m also thinking about Berlin and London, but I’m also conscious I should try to avoid biting off more than I can chew.
Trains vs. Planes: The Great Debate
I’ve been using Google Flights to sketch out a multi-city itinerary, but I’m also seriously considering train travel. In the past, I loved those budget European airlines. But now that I’m not as mobile, trains seem like a more relaxing option. Plus, there’s no hassle with customs/security, and you arrive right in the heart of the city.
One reason Copenhagen is appealing as a central location is the possibility of taking that scenic train journey to Stockholm through the picturesque countryside.
The Stumpy Factor
Of course, a major factor in all of this is my trusty sidekick, Stumpy – my prosthetic leg – soon to be named “Albert”. My travel plans will largely depend on his progress and how he’s feeling.
Stay Tuned
For now, I’m keeping my options open and continuing to research. I’ll keep you updated as things develop!
In the meantime, feel free to share your thoughts and suggestions in the comments! Have you taken any memorable train journeys in Europe? Any must-see destinations you recommend? Let me know!
Boxing Day at Nimbin
“It’s a lot more hippie than I remember”, my friend Sue said as we made our way along the main street of Nimbin. “There’s a lot less drugs on offer”, I thought to myself. Sue had actually grown up in Nimbin to a family who had lived there for a couple of generations, whereas I’d only visited on a few occasions.
My only really significant connection with the “Rainbow Generation” was when they arrived at South Lismore Railway Station in 1973. I was living close-by and remember and to this day remember walking down the street to take a look at the arrival of the hippies.
Sue still has a lot of family living in Nimbin. Our other common connection is Paul who we went to school with (and his partner Kerry) who run Nimbin Valley Dairy which specialises in cheese production (especially goats cheese) but who also run a small milk line as part of their operation.
When you’re a dairy farmer, both Christmas Day and Boxing Days can tend to be like any other work day. And so when we were invited out for Christmas Lunch/Dinner, there was an in-between period when we helped them with bottling, capping, and crating the milk ready for delivery. Sue was the capper. I was the stacker. “Are we slowing you down or speeding you up?”, I asked at one point with a smile.