I had a really wonderful afternoon catching up with some mates, one of whom, visiting from the UK, I hadn’t seen since 2010. We were in Sweden together then, and he was there for a concert by a Swedish pop singer…
Lisa Nilsson. Although I’d never heard of her before, she’s apparently quite good, and she was performing in Norrkoping to celebrate her twenty year career. It was amazing seeing Cliff so much slimmer than when he came to Australia all those years ago. He’s lost almost forty kilograms, thanks to a lot of personal discipline on his part. We chatted about life, the universe and everything. And it was great to see him expressing his passion for photography by taking lots of snaps.
He was talking about photography again today, and in particular, how it was cheaper to buy a new camera in Australia, than it would be in the UK. He’s here for a couple of weeks, so no doubt there’ll be more catchups, including next weekend when I’m having a few drinks to celebrate/commemorate my fff…ffff.ffff…birthday party.
As Noah, my support worker, and I strolled earlier today, we got into a conversation about how drastically life changes when you move at a very slow pace. For Noah, this isn’t a choice; he needs to match my walking speed. Although I’ve become more independent in my walking, I still proceed at a rather leisurely pace. What might have previously taken 5 minutes to walk can end up taking close to 30.
During our morning commute, we found ourselves being passed by a whirlwind of people in a rush, most of them absorbed in their mobile phones. When you walk at a snail’s pace, you become acutely aware of the bustling world around you.
This contrast was especially pronounced as we traversed the Devonshire Street tunnel. While it was past the peak rush hour before 9 a.m., there were still plenty of hurried commuters.
In the past, my routine through this tunnel involved ordering a coffee via a mobile app at the tunnel’s entrance, which would be ready for me by the time I reached the exit. What would normally take two or three minutes ended up consuming nearly twenty. In the future, I’ll have to be more discerning about when and if I use the app, as it proved just as convenient to order my coffee face to face, without the “time-saving” app.
On the flip side, moving slowly can lead to unexpected interactions. When people have approached me for money, I had little choice but to engage in a brief conversation, whereas in the past, I might have quickly responded with, “Sorry, I don’t carry cash.” The response remains the same, but it takes a bit longer to express it to them. However, I’ve noticed that fewer people ask me for money, possibly assuming I’m in a dire situation due to my amputation, prosthetic leg, and crutches.
As I strolled down the street in the afternoon, I found myself in a lengthy conversation with a man about my situation, hoping he would eventually move on. He finally got the hint and bid me farewell with a heartfelt “God bless you.”
Later, on a bus, another man shared his story of breaking both legs in a car accident. Normally, I wouldn’t have engaged with a stranger on a bus, but today was different. He marveled at my ability to get around, remarking that when he was injured, he spent his days in bed, feeling despondent.
The words “remarkable” and “inspiring” have been used quite frequently in recent months to describe my situation, but they don’t sit comfortably with me. I’ve started telling people, “I’m just very determined.” While there have been moments when I’ve felt overwhelmed, I’ve been trying to maintain a positive outlook.
I received a message this week from a close relative who is nearly 90 years old, and it deeply touched me.
In March this year my daughters little cavoodle scratched me. Not a big wound. I left it a bit long to go to emergency. The smell was dreadful. Went to Camden emergency and the Dr said that is a dog bite. I was adamant it was scratch. Anyhow, went to Liverpool Hospital I thought was overnight for debridement of wound. It took 3 weeks to clean up infection and 3 more debridements and was mentioned I had to have a skin graft and this infection could attack the graft. Anyhow, I was very lucky not to be in your predicament. My granddaughter in law was a nurse and said this particular infection is very hard to control. I don’t think I would have been as strong as you if it happened. I was so very lucky James. You are my inspiration. I have quite a hole in my leg and they nicked a nerve doing the graft operation so half my right foot is numb, but I was a lucky one.
I’m glad that I’ve been able to make such an impact, though unexpectedly. Positivity really does rub off.
Everything that’s happened in the last few months has also (hopefully) made me more thoughtful and thankful.
Today, I had to return to the hospital for the “Amputees Clinic,” where various members of my rehabilitation team came together to assess my progress. The prognosis was positive. My ability to walk independently has improved, and my specialist doctor recommended that I can now use just one crutch when walking outdoors. He did express some concern about the possibility of ingrown hairs and commented on my leg hair. Personally, I’ve never thought of myself as particularly hairy, but due to the surgery, I have an unusual concentration of body hair in one area. We discussed various options, including laser removal, but decided that vigilant monitoring and occasional trimming would suffice. He also informed me that I don’t need to return to the “Amputees Clinic” until February, which is a significant change from the monthly visits.
Feeling a bit celebratory, I decided to treat myself tonight.
Sashimi from Ichibang on Crown Street, Surry Hills
After months of hospital and home-cooked meals or dinners with friends, I ventured down the street on my own, using just one crutch, and enjoyed some sashimi and gyoza. There was much to celebrate at my “party for one.”
The first funeral for a former Prime Minister I remember, was the funeral of Sir Robert Menzies. It was many years since he had been the Prime Minister, and I was only a young child. Since then, in adulthood, I’ve remembered the deaths of Malcolm Fraser and Gough Whitlam. I’m sure there have been others along the way, but Hawke was a “giant” in that he was the longest serving Labor PM, and, in the words of the current Prime Minister, he was a “father of modern Australia”.
Though I wasn’t old enough to vote in the election which brought the ALP to power (in March 1983), Bob Hawke was the PM for most of my early adulthood.
We scored excellent seats through the public ballot.
Through the public ballot, my friend Judy and I scored excellent seats for today’s State Memorial. We were close enough to the stage at the Opera House to be able to watch what happened there live, and to observe the more intimate moments through the big screens.
We were also able to peer down at all of the politicians below us. It was fascinating to see the wife of a well known politician physically recoil when she thought they might be sitting next to another politician. (My lips are sealed, though I might be inclined to tell you over a couple of Hawke’s Lagers).
Looking down on the politicians in the stalls below us.
From Linda Burney’s Acknowledgement of Country at the beginning, to Blanche’s thank-yous at the end, it was a really terrific experience to be part of. A bit of history.
Great speeches. Lots of emotion, and lots of laughs, too. Kim Beazley’s story about the Cabinet meeting on board a Navy ship was very funny. There were speeches acknowledging Hawke’s legacy (Medicare, Apartheid, Antarctica etc), but also acknowledging he wasn’t exactly Saint Bob either.
As soon as I saw it advertised, I booked tickets straight away. It was an evening at one of my favourite cabaret bars in Sydney – Bar Me – featuring one of my favourite cabaret singers – Tim Draxl – doing the works of one of my favourite jazz musicians – Chet Baker – so how could I go wrong?
Colin, Grant and I had seen Tim Draxl perform and talk about the works of Chet Baker in August last year. As he noted when he performed, it was the night of the Bledisloe Cup. Amusingly, it was another footy night in Sydney, with the NRL Grand Final action many kilometres away at Homebush.
As the crowd was packed into the stadium there, so too, were we packed in to Bar Me. I don’t know how many people were in the small, cellar-style venue in Kings Cross, but I’m reasonably pleased there wasn’t a fire or an evacuation. We had great seats, but it sure was tight. And it was warm.
Michael Tyack and Tim Draxl at Supper Club
But at the same time, it was a great venue for the show, dealing as it did with the story of 1950s jazz musician who was described as “The James Dean Of Jazz”.
Whether or not that was hype remains open to discussion, but he was certainly an interesting character, with his rather curious family upbringing, his heavy use of a wide range of drugs, and speculation about his sexuality.
Throughout the show Tim Draxl talks a bit about Baker’s sexuality, ranging from teenage poofter-bashing at school, to early twenties “partying hard” (was that a euphemism?), and to a later emphatic denial of homosexuality when he plays Baker in character.
Early in the piece, though, Tim sang the song “My Buddy” with such an urgent sexuality, that you couldn’t help but be down the path of speculation…
As a performer, Tim Draxl continues to grow. Every time I see him, he gets better. He gets more honest. He gets more real. He still holds something of himself back, though. And in tonight’s show he spoke about how that’s why he likes Baker – that he was somewhat of an introvert too. One day I’d like to see Tim really drop his guard, really open up. I’m sure that will happen one day.
Whenever I see him perform, though, I’m reminded of the young man I interviewed when he was 18 or 19 on ABC Radio. He seemed to have a lot of self-control/reserve even then.
She’s a Swedish singer who I saw in concert a few weeks ago.
A few months ago I tweeted her and said I would be coming to her concert. And she actually responded. I was more than a bit surprised since she only follows one person on Twitter, Oprah!
The day after the concert I tweeted her again, saying how much I’d enjoyed her show.
Sarah Dawn Finer
Today or yesterday she was obviously catching up with her correspondence and responded with a “thank you” tweet. How cool is that?
It was definitely a highlight from today which, otherwise, was spent at home doing nothing much at all, except occasionally falling asleep.
I think by tomorrow my body will be fully re-adjusted – though we do have daylight saving change-over tonight – in the meantime, I’m finding that occasionally I get quite tired fairly quickly and just fall asleep.
Oh, and waiting for my bags to arrive.
“We tried to call you on your mobile”, the woman from the courier company said to me. “Yeah well, the battery ran out, and both chargers were packed away”, I told her.
In the grand scheme of things, it was only a minor inconvenience having to spend most of the afternoon at home waiting for my luggage to arrive.
I woke early this morning and went to the supermarket at about eight o’clock to buy some food. After a month away, the cupboard was bare.
I couldn’t believe how many people were at Coles this morning. I, at least, had an excuse for being there so early and in such a desperate need to purchase food. For the others, you had a sense they were suffering public holiday withdrawal from the shops being closed yesterday.
I chatted on the phone with friends and made a few social arrangements for the next few days.
It’s been a really lovely experience over the last four weeks writing this holiday blog. It’s so nice to have a permanent record of my experiences and thoughts along the way. I read a few posts today and it took my back, even if I did pick up the more than occasional spelling mistake.
As an experiment, I also went back to my tweets and posted a “twitter version” of my holiday, with nothing but tweets and photographs taken at Katarinahissen.
We’re all a bit short of time, these days, and there’s nothing worse than someone banging on about his holiday or hours, though friends, family and workmates can expect to experience this over the next few weeks.
To ease the pain, I spent an hour or so creating a slideshow of my holiday snaps. The five-minute version of my holiday.
I present it to you now…
The musical accompaniment is Stockholm inatt by Peter Joback. And even though the lyrics and the images don’t match, or really actually make any sense in relation to the visuals, I never intended them to. It’s all about the mood. It’s about the vibe. It’s the groove.
Premiere of the movie Australia at George Street, Sydney “Is it APEC all over again?”, I wondered to myself as I went for a walk along George Street tonight to see what was happening for the premiere “Australia – The Movie”. There were baricades everywhere. And as I walked along, it was evident there was a “buzz” in the air. “We love a good party in Sydney”, a colleague observed earlier today.
By this time I was already a bit tired, and I was toying with the idea of “taking a sickie” from Swedish class. In the end I did, as I came home and almost collapsed in exhaustion.
I don’t know why I’m tired at the moment, though I’ve noticed the pre-holiday “eye bags” have reappeared.
“Are you coming home for Christmas” a friend asked me by text. “Not likely”, I told him, noting it would be a little presumptuous for me to apply for more holiday leave after this year’s three month break.
Still, I’m thinking about my “next big trip”. I don’t know where it will be, but I’m thinking about it already. I picked up a brochure for a 56-day tour of Andes earlier today. It’s about $3500 (plus airfares) and includes a lot of bushwalking and camping.
While the rest of the world is encouraged to visit Australia (The Movie), I’m looking for other ideas…
