“What are your plans for Mardi Gras? Are you going to the parade? Are you going to the party?” have been the questions colleagues have been asking me over the last couple of weeks. When I’ve told them, “I’m actually a little shy, I’m not very good with crowds”, they’ve seemed a little disappointed. But there was a time in my youth, when I’ve been a more enthusiastic attender of Mardi Gras. In particular, between about 1989 and 2000.
My first Mardi Gras was in 1989. I was 23 years old. Though I’m struggling to find photographic evidence, I know there’s one of me with friends, where I’m wearing a “Smiley face t-shirt” (it was an ecstasy reference, I’m sure) and “Batman” shorts. I was living in Bourke in NSW at the time, and coming down to Sydney was “quite a thing”.
If you were to ask similarly aged gay men to nominate their “Mardi Gras Soundtrack”, there’s a good chance they’ll nominate something from the Priscilla soundtrack, even though of course this was in the days before Priscilla. But for those of us of a certain age, “Dancing Queen”, “I Will Survive” and many other songs will spring to mind, and roll instantly off the tongue.
But for me, the ultimate reminder of that period of time is a song called “Pump Up The Jam” by Technotronic. At the party at the showground, I remember dancing with friends to an extended remix of the song which lasted maybe 15 or 20 minutes. We had long attention spans back then!
I stopped going to the party (and Sleaze Ball) in about 2001. After that time I lost interest in the big party scene, though, my interest in music continues to this day, and I love nothing more than going out for a dance. Palms!! However, I’m not one of those trapped in the era of twenty years ago, fondly remembering the “golden days”. I’m mindful the “golden days” for subsequent generations will be the music of today. But in the meantime – I hope you’ve enjoyed an awesome song from the 1980s.
The first time I saw “The Ten Commandments” starring Yul Brynner and Charlton Heston was on a Saturday morning at the “Star Court Theatre” (as it was known then) in my hometown, Lismore.
I used to go there every Saturday morning with my friend Mark. When we started going it was just twenty cents entry (yes seriously) for the morning session. Vividly, I remember going to see a bunch of cinematic classics ranging from “Jason and the Argonauts” (OMG, I loved that film) to Disney classics such as “Herbie” and “The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes”) (OMG, I loved Kurt Russell). And for twenty cents, you got not just one, but two movies with an intermission.
Anyway, I do remember seeing “The Ten Commandments” in the early 70s, and ever since then I’ve had a fondness for those classic religious epic films. Any religious film, actually, as they almost always have a great narrative and a real sense of drama and occasion. (It must be the Catholic in me!)
You can imagine those involved in making “The Ten Commandments” had a real sense of the history they were making with this 3.5 hour movie which involved a cast of thousands, I assume.
In fact, as I watched it tonight, and in particular the construction of the narrative with those wonderful asides such as the early dance sequence with the daughters of the sheikhs and the comedy stylings at the oasis, I began to wonder if they had used Shakespeare as a model for narrative construction. Obviously without the sophistication of Shakespeare, but in a general sense of how to give people 3.5 hours of entertainment for what is essentially a reasonably straightforward story.
I was watching it tonight with my family, as I’m home for Easter. Not all of us made it to the end, as it’s such an epic production. I swear if it had been released now with Twitter-critics, it wouldn’t have made it past the first hour, as it moves reasonably slowly for most of the early part of the film. Later, however, it picks up a bit of pace, until finally we got to the good bits, such as the burning bush and the parting of the Red Sea.
As a film, it fails to stand up to the test of time and looks quite dated. Still, it’s a great piece of cinema history, and a fun way to spend a Saturday night home with the family.
And watching with an adult eye, I couldn’t help but notice what hunks both Yul Brynner and John Derek (playing Joshua) were. There again, I might have made that same observation all those years ago at The Star Court.
I went out for lunch today at one of my favourite local Chinese restaurants, Noodle Star. It’s in the Surry Hills Shopping Centre, formerly known as The Redfern Mall on Cleveland Street. I go there usually once a week, as they do a terrific versions of Singapore Noodles, Rainbow Beef and BBQ Pork. As it was a bit cold and wet today, I thought a soup was in order. As local Chinese restaurants go, it’s pretty good. The food is always fresh, you can see behind the counter and know their hygiene standards are high, and the prices are low.
Aside from that, I’ve spent a fair bit of the day reading a Christmas present, Ray Martin’s autobiography and watching television. There was a terrific Judy Garland bio-pic which I’ve seen once before, and which I dipped in and out of while channel-hopping. There was also an extended interview/infomercial with Sarah Palin on Fox News. I tried to watch, I really did.
And I also desperately tried to have an afternoon nap. The problem I faced in getting to sleep was that I kept “thinking”. Normally, I can sleep almost literally standing up. But for some reason today, even though my body was weak and wanted a rest, my mind was going at a thousand miles an hour. Bloody hell.
The other thing that took a little time today was a few work related phone calls. No dramas, just looking ahead to make sure the SS Wireless continues on its steady path.
Today was Boxing Day and tomorrow is a Public Service Holiday, according to the Federal Government which employs me, so officially I’m not at work tomorrow either. However…
When it became fairly obvious there was absolutely no chance of NSW recovering in the State of Origin decider, people began leaving the pub. By the time the game was over, it was pretty much us, and nobody else.
The SSO wasn’t the drawcard for us to go to the Centennial Hotel in Woollahra: the drawcard was the chef, Justin North (formerly Becasse etc) and the offer of a $28 meal if we dined before 6.30pm. For $28 you get a main course, a side, and some ice-cream at the end. Though I’m sure lots of people “upgrade” we were more than happy with the offer.
As you’ll see the meals look good, and are of a good size. And tasty. I had the barramundi which was excellent. For some odd reason we all chose the same side meal: sprouts with bacon which was also excellent. At the end, the ice-cream was a simple scoop of home made ice-cream with butterscotch. The atmosphere and service were also very good. So all in all, a really good way to spend the night.
Afterwards we had a few more glasses of wine, and then a couple of beers, and chatted, and watched the dying minutes of the SOO. That was the only bad thing about the evening.
If I was back in Sydney, it would have been easy. In Surry Hills, I’m surrounded by bottle shops which are open every day (except Good Friday and Christmas Day) and which trade right up until midnight. If I was home and going to a dinner party, I would have simply picked up a bottle of something on the way there. But in Sweden, you don’t have that option.
In Sweden, there’s a government-owned monopoly bottle shop chain called Systembolaget, which operates with restricted hours. On weekdays, it’s normal trading hours; shorter hours on Saturday; and they’re closed Sunday. At night, bars also have limited trading hours with many closing at one, others at three.
And as much as I like to think of myself as a bit of a libertarian, I’m beginning to conclude these restrictions might actually be a good thing. By putting a limit on the hours in which you can purchase and consume alcohol, I think there’s more of a chance that people will go home to bed, as opposed to the all-night temptation offered in Sydney.
Although Systembolaget now operates like a supermarket chain, it wasn’t so long ago that you had to go in, make an order for what you wanted, and then wait for someone to bring your order out to you. There’s a few of these older style shops still around, apparently.
As it’s been explained to me, Swedes like a drink as much as Australians do (maybe moreso), and this is how they’ve reacted to their problem with alcohol.
Still it was a little unexpected for me to walk into Systembolaget in the hour before it was due to close (ahead of being closed all day Sunday) and see the lengthy queues. “Is this the Swedish version of the six o’clock swill?”, I thought to myself.
All of that said, I still like the way it operates in Sydney, being able to pick up a bottle of wine on my way to the dinner party, and not having to think about it.
Saturday night in Medborgarplatsen
Dinner was with Sandra and Robert, and their friends Roger and Nikki. Roger has commented on my blog on a number of occasions, and so it was really lovely to meet him in real life. They’re a really lovely couple, and although I knew they were both passionate about music (based on comments Roger had made), that passion really became evident over dinner.
Both Sandra and I made the comment later in the evening that it’s beginning to feel like I “live” here. Although I’ve done a lot of touristy things on this trip, my time in Stockholm hasn’t been focussed so much on trips, museums, and the like. I’ve been leading a fairly “normal” kind of life, getting up, reading the paper, going out for coffee and so on. Funny, I should be feeling this way with just a few days left.
As I made my way home to where I’m staying in Medborgarplatsen, there were more queues. This time, it was people lining up for a bit of late night sustenance.
Today was a beautiful day dedicated to “story-telling,” starting with a session and a reminder about the essence of a good story: it has a clear beginning, middle, and end, following a linear story arc that people intuitively understand.
The session included a fascinating presentation that drew on some groundbreaking work in improv theatre, as referenced in some of Valerie Geller’s publications. The core of a compelling narrative was described as “this happened, and that happened next, and then that happened after, and the result was…” This workshop, led by Valerie Geller herself, was part of a series held at the Australian Film, Television and Radio School (AFTRS).
I first met Valerie when I was a young, up-and-coming broadcaster working in regional radio. At that time, she was brought into the ABC to help its presenters reconnect with their audiences and improve their on-air communication. I’m a fan.
Valerie Geller is an internationally recognized broadcast consultant and author, best known for her theories on effective radio and television communication. Her seminal work, Creating Powerful Radio (1993), has been a foundational text for broadcasters worldwide. This was followed by Beyond Powerful Radio: A Communicator’s Guide to the Internet Age (2006) and The Four Fundamentals of an On-Air Personality (2018). Her latest book, released a few months ago is called Beyond Powerful Radio: An Audio Communicator’s Guide to the Digital World – News, Talk, Information, & Personality for Podcasting & Broadcasting.
Valerie’s core philosophy revolves around the idea that broadcasters must be authentic, emotional, and truthful to build a strong connection with their audience. Her famous catchphrases, “Tell the truth, make it matter, and never be boring,” encapsulate this philosophy.
She argues that great content isn’t just about facts; it’s about telling a human story that resonates. Valerie emphasizes the importance of using the word “you” to make a story more personal and engaging for the listener, allowing them to imagine themselves in the situation.
This was especially relevant for me as I’ve always wanted to make sure my deeply personal stories about my amputation and disability were something people could relate to, not just a recount of my own experiences. In the last twelve months I’ve been asked to tell the story many times on radio and in person, and I was keen to make sure my story remained interesting,
As Valerie herself puts it, “There are no boring stories, only boring storytellers.”
A powerful tool that Valerie champions in her work is the “Story Spine,” a simple yet effective framework for building a compelling narrative. Originating in improv theatre, this method provides a clear structure that ensures every story has a logical flow. The Story Spine consists of a series of prompts that guide the storyteller, starting with “Once upon a time…” to establish the world and characters, then moving through “Every day…” to show the normal routine. The heart of the story is driven by a trigger event, “But one day…”, followed by the consequences, “Because of that…” and “Because of that…”. The narrative builds to a climax, “Until finally…”, and concludes with a resolution, “And ever since then…”.
Story Spine
By using this framework, broadcasters can quickly and effectively craft a story that is not only coherent but also deeply engaging for the audience. It provides a simple blueprint for turning a collection of facts into a captivating human narrative, proving her point that there are no boring stories, only boring storytellers.
Her workshop today reinforced these principles, stressing that telling a great story is like a muscle that needs to be exercised daily. It was wonderful to see James Valentine and several other colleagues from my ABC career attending the workshop.
Valerie’s influence has been so profound that a week rarely goes by without me applying one of her principles, whether it’s “Tell the truth, make it matter, and never be boring” or the simple power of using “you” in my narrative. The lessons from today weren’t just for my radio career as a presenter or manager; they were for the storytelling I’ve been doing since, whether I’m explaining something to colleagues, friends, or even a child on public transport who asks, “What happened?”
After the workshop, I attended a live presentation of the ABC radio program Conversations at the State Theatre in Sydney. This show is a cornerstone of ABC’s programming and has a rich history.
Having been involved with Conversations over the years, I’ve witnessed its evolution from a program that started as a local show hosted by Richard Fidler on ABC Radio Brisbane to a national phenomenon. The move to be heard in Sydney and across NSW marked a significant step in its growth.
Its format, which features long-form, in-depth interviews with a wide range of guests, has become a benchmark for thoughtful public broadcasting. The show’s success is largely due to its focus on profound, personal storytelling. The program’s history reflects a shift in ABC’s strategy, moving towards more intimate, narrative-driven content to connect with a national audience. The program is broadcast on ABC Local Radio stations across most of Australia, with ABC Radio National carrying it in Victoria.
Conversations at Sydney’s State Theatre
It was a day that continued the theme of great storytelling, and it was fascinating to see hosts Sarah Kanowski and Richard Fidler on stage, sharing their own stories and discussing what makes a narrative powerful and interesting to an audience. It was a wonderful way to spend a late afternoon, reflecting on the art of communication and the history of one of Australia’s most beloved radio programs.
When the woman who I thought was doing the sound-check came to the stage, announced she was going to sing, and declared “My name is Pikelet and I’m from Melbourne”, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Actually my instinct was to laugh.
But since I’d been waiting for close to an hour to see Frida Hyvönen perform, and since I’d already had two glasses of beer at the pub across the road while I waited, there was a feeling of melancholy also.
When I arrived at the Paddington Uniting Church tonight at the advertised time of 7pm, there were two or three others waiting outside.
“Are you here to see the gig?”, one woman asked me, also seeking assurance that she was in the right place.
Locating someone with a name badge, and therefore looking quite official, who assured us we were at the right place, we grabbed a seat together and chatted, before making the collective decision to move to the pub across the road to have a drink as we waited.
“They were still doing the sound-check”, someone told us.
The Piano awaits Frida Hyvönen
Closer to 8pm, the doors opened and it was then that Pikelet came to the stage.
A multi-instrumentalist who told us three times she had left her keyboard behind in Melbourne, she performed a range of lovely, ethereal sounding songs, often with quite obscure names. “This is a song about a guy at sewerage works”, she told us at one point.
She sang with a haunting kind of voice – a bit like “This Mortal Coil” at times – and I think she impressed the audience.
I kept looking at her foot though, as she used a delay machine to create sound loops which she sang or played over the top of.
After a further break at the pub, and closer to nine o’clock, Frida came to the stage.
I first discovered her work through Swedish pop charts, and in particular her song, “Dirty Dancing” which she performed tonight as her final song before the finale.
It’s quite a pretty song, and it introduced me to her work which I’d best describe as “piano based folk pop”.
“Are there any Swedes here tonight?”, she asked, with a few responses in the affirmative.
But who else was there?
I got to chatting with a woman who worked at IKEA, but who told me “that’s not the reason why I came”.
And the rest of the audience ranged from Newtown-types through to quite a few people in their 40s/50s who would have enjoyed her singer-songwriter style of performance.
By the time she came on stage, I’ll be honest, I was feeling a little grumpy, since it was two hours since the advertised time on Moshtix.
Phoebe Alexander, Guo Jian, Kate Croll
Nonethless I enjoyed the show, though perhaps not as much if I hadn’t needed to wait so long for it to happen.
Doubly disappointing was that I’d left an exhibition opening early to make the show on time.
Kate and I went to the opening tonight of a new exhibition by Guo Jian, an Australian-Chinese artist now based in Beijing.
Unlike the colourful piece we own, this current series is black and white.
The imagery is both Chinese and Western, with Pamela Anderson, Arnold Shwarzenegger, Stalin, Jackie Chan and Chairman Mao all featured together.
It’s a really lovely exhibition currently at 4A Gallery in Sydney.
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Pump Up the Jam, a soundtrack to my life at the time. Love it. Saw Kylie perform at one Mardi Gras but I can’t remember the performance. Perhaps at Sleaze I saw D Ream perform Things can only get Better. Great performance but he looked cold and disinterested.
Pump Up the Jam, a soundtrack to my life at the time. Love it. Saw Kylie perform at one Mardi Gras but I can’t remember the performance. Perhaps at Sleaze I saw D Ream perform Things can only get Better. Great performance but he looked cold and disinterested.