I was moved by the comments of the Korean Ambassador, as he spoke passionately about the profound effect of the Korean War. He talked about how people from all around the world came to a country they hardly knew existed, and for their efforts, the people of Korea remain grateful.
I was the opening of an exhibition, inspired by the book “Passage to Puusan’ by Louise Evans, which told the story of “A struggling Brisbane mother (who) travels to Korea to visit the grave of her son who was killed in the Korean War”. As a result, a family friendship between Korea and Australia has now developed over three generations. It sounds like a wonderful story, and I really must read the book.
Co-incidentally, I first met Louise several years ago at the ABC. But it was through another friend, Sooyong Kim, the exhibition’s curator, that I was invited to last night’s opening.
It’s a moving story, and a moving exhibition, and well worth a look, at the Korean Cultural Centre at 255 Elizabeth Street, Sydney for the next month.
There was only one occasion today when I left the house.
I needed some groceries, and so mid-afternoon I wandered down to the supermarket to stock up on important things like ice cream, ice blocks, and anything else I could find that was cold.
I also went in to the bottle shop and that’s when I felt the most hot. The queue was massive, mostly full of people buying ice. And sadly there was only one person on the cash register. The other, groan groan, was up the back helping a single customer. The queue wasn’t happy, the woman behind the cash register wasn’t happy, and neither was I. It was already hot, without having to stand in line as well.
Much has been written and said about Sydney’s hottest day or month on record or whatever was set. I have little to add, except I managed to keep reasonably okay by simply closing the blinds. Although there were times when I felt like I was Saddam Hussein down the whole, it meant I was able to keep reasonably comfortable as I spent most of the day on the couch reading a book.
And occasionally, I imagined for a moment I was back in Sweden and was surrounded by ice.
And then on Friday, I took the day off work for an annual lunch with friends, including former and current colleagues. Each year on roughly the same day, at the same time, we go to the same restaurant, https://www.lacapannina.com.au/, sit at the same outdoor table, enjoy the food and wine, and solve the problems of the world. Last year, I was fresh out of hospital, and still getting around with crutches, but this year I managed to get myself to and from the restaurant on public transport, an indicator of the achievements of what’s happened in the time since, my friends noted. We struggled to remember how long we’ve been doing this for, but it’s a lovely tradition we all enjoy, and we’ve already made a tentative restaurant booking for a 2025 date.
By the time Saturday came around, I was a little exhausted.
I was also unsure what to expect from a 90-minute Friendlyjordies live show show. I’ve been watching his YouTube videos https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2-i3KuYoODXsM99Z3-Gm0A for a number of years and generally enjoy his content. While he can be a bit much at times, I appreciate his sharp wit. But, could he hold my attention for a full hour and a half, especially with a topic like the Byzantine Empire, something I knew little about?
Arriving at the Paddington RSL, I noticed I was one of the oldest people in the audience. Almost everyone else seemed to be in their 20s. I was also struck by how many people were watching the show, and simultaenously using their phones s – a generational thing, I suppose, but still surprising to me.
The show itself was a pleasant surprise. Friendlyjordies presented a fascinating history lesson on the Byzantine Empire, highlighting how much of its history has been rewritten or erased. He drew parallels to modern society, discussing achievements like universal healthcare and challenging the notion that each generation is inherently smarter than the last.
While the history lesson was engaging, Friendlyjordies didn’t shy away from his trademark humor. He peppered the show with jokes, some more sophisticated than others, keeping the audience entertained. There were definitely moments where he seemed to lose some of the crowd, particularly during the longer political segments, but overall, the audience seemed to enjoy the show.
I appreciated the combination of humor and historical insights, and the 90-minute runtime felt just right. It was also interesting to watch Friendlyjordies interact with the visuals on screen. The pacing was good, and the show flowed well. If he tours again, I’d definitely consider going to see another show.
View from near the Cruising Yacht Club at Rushcutters Bay
In the midst of an otherwise, “noisy” day, I need a bit of peace and quiet tonight.
It was a fairly mundane day at work. It was more “logistics” than anything else. And although I’m quite good at logistics, I found myself defeated on a couple of occasions today.
Ah well, I did get to do some creative stuff, too.
And I did get to go out for a while to the Cruising Yacht Club, ahead of the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race.
I can scarcely believe it, that they already have a media center up and running.
There’s quite a few yachts already in place, though the bloke who runs it told me that on the day itself, it’ll be three or four times that amount.
My main interest was whether or not we had a clear view to Centrepoint Tower (to get the signal there).
But in between, I did manage to take in some of the spectacular view.
It was a real highlight in an otherwise humdrum day.
And so here I am at home with a glass of wine and catching up on Twitter, Facebook, and all of those other distractions.
To preserve my sanity, I feel like it might be time to get out and about and clear my head.
I might head down to St Mary’s to see the Nativity Scene.
You know how ugly those hoardings on construction works can be? Chip-board. “Do not enter” signs. That kind of thing? The other week I noticed there’s a new approach that’s being taken by the City of Sydney.
I first saw it at the old fruit and vegetable shop on Crown Street, Surry Hills, currently under construction. They’ll probably turn it into a cafe, or a nail salon, or a hair-dresser for pets, as seems to be the fashion for everything in my suburb, these days.
But the one thing they have gotten right, is the decision to decorate the construction site hoarding with some terrific public art. I also noticed there’s a construction site in Chippendale with these hoardings also. Very welcome, in my humble opinion. Enjoy.
About the only good thing worth reading in the Sunday papers, these days, is the wedding profiles.
A friend and I were chatting about this over dinner the other week: that we love reading how the couples met, how they are planning to spend their honeymoons, and where they were planning to live.
They’re such a barometer of society, and maybe even of the economy. I’ve noticed, for example, recently the trend away from holidays in Thailand (very popular a few months ago) to this month’s favourite destination, Hawaii. Every week, there’s always a few of the couples who holiday in Queensland, and you get the occasional honeymoon in Europe (especially when they’re from Italian or Greek heritage), but mostly it’s Hawaii at the moment.
Such honeymoon plans are almost always in stark contrast with the older “flashback” couple they also feature weekly. Almost invariably, there is no mention of a honeymoon for the couple who have been together for forty or fifty years. Instead, it almost always reads they met because they were near neighbours, they got married and then settled close to home, and now enjoy spending time with their grandchildren.
There would have been no thought of an overseas holiday for that generation, and they were always much younger than the couples getting married these days, but there are similarities. The typical scenario, these days, seems to be “they met on a girls night out” or something like that, or were introduced by a mutual friend. Then there’s the often older couple (in their early thirties) who went to school together, but nothing happened until they were re-introduced a few years ago by old school mates. However they met, the profiles indicate they’re still likely to want to settle close to where they grew up.
The only other things that interest me in the Sunday papers are some of the regular columns. I love trying to guess, for example, who Ros is talking about in “Guess Who Don’t Sue” and regularly have some success. I quite enjoy Wil Anderson’s column which is usually quite funny, though today’s column about what he lost when his car was broken into bordered on the banal. Piers Akerman is always worth a laugh, as is Glen Milne, though for obviously different reasons. I also quite like the celebrity photograph pages, though I find myself increasingly unaware of who some of the young folk are, since I hardly ever watch soap operas. Oh and I love the Harvey Norman catalogues.
Yes, they’re good. So please Mr Murdoch, can you just dump all of the regular features and just feature Harvey Norman catalogues and wedding photographs from now on and I’ll be very happy indeed.
Stepping onto the stage in Sydney last week to host the inaugural ABC Inclusive Awards was a moment of profound personal reflection and joy. Because these awards are an internal celebration for my employer, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, you won’t read about them in the news. But looking out at the room—and connecting via Zoom with colleagues tuning in from all corners of the country—I couldn’t help but marvel at how much life can change in just a few short years.
For over three decades, I made a living asking the questions as an ABC radio journalist presenter and manager. I prided myself on having the “full picture” and considered myself a “good ally” to the disability community. I used the correct terminology, developed content, and slept well believing I was on the right side of history. Then, sepsis upended my script, turning a holiday infection into a fight for survival that cost me my leg and overnight shattered the comfortable illusion of my allyship.
Standing on that stage with a prosthetic limb, emceeing alongside our brilliant Auslan interpreters and wearing my Is It Sepsis campaign shirt, I felt the deep weight and joy of my transformed identity.
I used to think I understood the totality of the human condition, but my own journey exposed a lifetime of profound blind spots. I had to learn that the disability community is vast and diverse—that 90% of disabilities are invisible, spanning neurodivergence, chronic pain, and sensory impairments. I shifted from someone who thought they were an ally to a proud, card-carrying member of a community that taught me what I had been missing all those years: that disability is not a monolith, a tragedy, or inspiration porn, but a vibrant, essential facet of humanity.
Surrounded by my colleagues, the day was filled with moments that touched my soul. Daniel McDonald, a proud Deaf Aboriginal man and artist, opened us up with a Welcome to Country that spoke of the “golden pathways” we are walking together. Later, our keynote speaker, Maddie Stewart, delivered a talk that was as hilarious as it was vital—reminding us all about the importance of normalising disability rather than just featuring it.
Listening to the incredible achievements of our award nominees and winners illed me with immense pride. We also took a well-deserved moment to honour our outgoing co-chairs whose tireless, above-and-beyond passion has fundamentally shifted the ABC’s culture for the better.
Pic: Fletcher Yeung
Reflecting on where I started, the stories I once missed, and the community I was eventually welcomed into, I felt a deep, swelling joy and pride.
