I’ve been feeling slightly restless in the last few days, and so have been wandering a fair bit, taking a few photographs here and there, a few of which looked better in black and white than colour, so I thought I’d share them. Nothing special, all on my camera phone, with a black and white filter.
Shadows on Oxford Street, DarlinghurstRedfern Railway Station in SydneySelfie on the 301 Bus
You remember how “in the olden days” you were limited by the number of photographs you could take on a roll of film? It was generally 12, 24 or 36. I remember when a roll of 36 film was expensive to buy, and even more expensive to process. As a child, I would generally only be able to afford 12, and occasionally 24. 36 seemed like such a luxury to a young boy from the country.
Fast forward to 2017, and today I went on a photowalk where we were instructed to take no more than 36 shots. “Only 36?”, I thought to myself, adding “This will be a challenge since I regularly take 80 to 100 shots in a single day”. The Local Guides Meetup Sydney Photowalk was one of a number of similar walks held around the world today with the same common instruction.
Today, a group of about a dozen wandered from Milson’s Point, to Cockatoo Island, to Darling Harbour, Barrangaroo, Circular Quay, and many points in between. It was a fun day, hanging out with a couple of blokes I already knew, but also getting to meet some new people I would never have otherwise had the chance to meet.
I’d have to be honest and say most of the people on our photowalk had no intention of sticking to the 36 rule. Many of us had participated previously in photowalks, and many of us were “snap happy” to say the least. Even so, it was good to have in our mind the idea that you should think more carefully about the photographs, rather than take hundreds, as is so easy in the days of digital photography.
I’m not used to Sydney gay bars having so many people attending them. In the midst of “Sydney WorldPride”, in some ways, I’m kinda longing for the “good old days” when it was just people sitting by themselves looking down at their mobile phones. Of course, I’m joking.
As I walked along Oxford Street last night, there was a moment when I looked around and thought it kinda felt like Oxford Street in the 90s all over again. The crowd was overwhelmingly “gay”. That felt good.
Entering a few bars, however, I felt a little overwhelmed by the crowds.
“This is the only place I could find that wasn’t too crowded”, I told a friend as we met up for a late afternoon drink at “Universal Bar”, formerly known as “The Midnight Shift”.
Looking around the new bar, I reminisced about the “good old days” when the place had pool tables and a giant fish tank. I explained to my friend that the tank was there because goldfish have a memory span of only five minutes. It was a nostalgic moment as I remembered the lively bar scene on Oxford Street.
Queers of Java, onstage at Crown Street, as part of Sydney WorldPride
My friend confided in me that she was experiencing some Sydney WorldPride “fatigue” after attending numerous events. Although she had tickets to several more, she intended to give them away to friends. “I just need a break after a couple of weeks,” she explained.
I could relate to her sentiment. After enduring three years of COVID and a few years prior to that witnessing the decline of gay bars, it’s almost overwhelming to witness such a surge of LGBTQIA+ activity in Sydney. Seeing so many people on the scene is both exciting and unfamiliar.
Pride Anthems, as part of the Sydney WorldPride showcase on Crown Street.
This week, I’ve been thoroughly enjoying attending the 5 pm showcase hosted by my friend. The showcase has featured some amazing performers from the festival program.
Looking ahead, I’m eagerly anticipating the walk on Sunday across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, where an estimated 50,000 people will proudly wear their rainbow colours. It’s going to be a fantastic celebration of LGBTQIA+ pride!
After that, like Christmas decorations, I assume the rainbow flags will come down, and we’ll go back to lots of solitary people sitting in bars looking down at their mobile phones. I hope not.
Even though I live only fifteen minutes walk away from work, I usually catch the bus when it’s raining, as it virtually guarantees me cover to cover shelter. As I got in the bus this morning, and as I looked around, you could see the grumpiness about the weather on everyone’s faces. “I thought we’d gotten over winter” was, I’m sure, the thought going through everyone’s minds.
Everyone looked so completely grumpy, which made me observe to a colleague “We really don’t cope with rain very well in Sydney” when I got to work. “No we’d like it to be 24 degrees and sunny every day”, she responded. I smiled in agreement.
With the clearing of the rain, the Sydney transport zeitgeist had improved somewhat later in the day, when I caught the bus to the Lewisham Hotel for our regular Wednesday night drinks.
And then when I caught the bus back to Railway Square, I wasn’t really able to judge things, because I was the only person on the bus. I presume everyone in Sydney had retreated indoors for the evening, as the streets were almost empty at about ten o’clock tonight.
It wasn’t just a day, though, of sitting on buses. I caught up with my friend Yvette for lunch, and I met up with the usual crew at the pub tonight. We celebrated Dave’s 36th birthday with a few beers, as we chatted about life, the universe and everything.
In between time, work was as busy as ever. Although I never talk about work on this blog, I will mention just one thing: The Great Spelling Bee Drama.
For the last few years we have broadcast part of The NSW Premier’s Spelling Bee. As anyone who has ever seen the film Spellbound will know, spelling bees can be extremely compelling. And normally, we broadcast the last half hour, as it gets down to the final half dozen who fight it out for Spelling Supremo.
But today I got an alarming phone call an hour before our scheduled broadcast. “We’ve got a winner”, I was told, making me suddenly go into panic mode about what we will do with half an hour of radio to fill, and a theatre full of people.
A very clever young man from Bundanoon had swept the floor, emerging as the clear winner, in an unassailable position. There was absolutely no way anyone else could win, based on points. “It’s like ABBA at Eurovision in 1974”, I thought to myself.
An “emergency meeting” was held with the competition organiser. In the end, we went ahead with the broadcast as the young kids competed for the as-yet-undecided second and third places.
“One of life’s many challenges I guess…” I giggled to myself at one point this afternoon.
My story about the unexpected amputation I experienced last year has generated significant interest for many, including my colleragues at ABC Radio. I recently appeared on both ABC Radio Melbourne and ABC Radio Perth to discuss the challenges and lessons learned from this life-changing event. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-07-30/how-my-life-has-changed-since-i-became-an-amputee/104090002
I’m committed to raising awareness about the risks of infection and the importance of seeking medical attention promptly. To that end, I’ve offered interviews to other radio stations and will share those recordings here as they become available.
Additionally, I’ve been invited to speak to a men’s health group in Perth, providing another opportunity to share my experience and hopefully prevent similar situations.
Please note that the transcriptions included below are AI-generated and may contain inaccuracies.
ABC Radio Melbourne Breakfast with Sammy J
I want to talk about amputation right now. The Amputee Club is not a club that anyone would necessarily choose to join, and yet it is a club that 8000 Australians find themselves joining every year, with varying causes, accidents, cancer, infections. And this was the experience of my guest today.
A man who is a colleague here at the ABC, a man who I follow on Twitter and he follows me, and yet about a year ago, one of his posts caught my attention because it was unlike any other. He said, hello friends, I’ve been in hospital for a little while and I’ve had my leg amputated. To find out how he’s going and how indeed that situation arose, I’m joined by planning manager for audio content here at the ABC and my online buddy, James O’Brien.
James, great to chat at last.
Hi there, Sammy. It’s interesting you said most people don’t choose.
Actually, when I was in hospital 12 months ago, I met a woman who chose to have an amputation. Really? For what reason? Well, she’d had ongoing pain for a number of years and it just got to the point she was actually previously a nurse and she knew the pros and cons of what she was about to go through and she chose to have an amputation. And look, there’s a Facebook group I’m involved with where also people talk about their choice to have it because of ongoing medical problems.
Gotcha. For me, it was like I had no idea what happened. I was sick.
I went into an unconscious state. I missed an important work deadline. My friends said, where’s James? What’s going on? The ambulances arrived.
The police arrived. They took me off. They chopped my leg off a few hours later.
And what was the reason? Look, I had an infection which just went terribly wrong, which went into sepsis. So it went up the inside of my leg. I went into a diabetic coma because I was really very sick and it all went terribly wrong after just a lovely holiday and a cut foot on a beach.
It was, I mean, just from afar watching and thinking, how can this happen so suddenly? But of course it does. And you don’t think it’s going to be you. And then it is.
I’m really curious about those first days and weeks, James, in the hospital, your responses, your reactions. And may I ask, where did you get the most support from? I got fantastic support from the hospital staff. They were really great.
I was on, I was in cloud cuckoo land. I was on some serious pain. I haven’t heard of that hospital, but, you know, it sounds like.
Oh my goodness. The pain relief was pretty remarkable. It was fentanyl and other drugs like that.
But, you know, it was really friends and family who really looked after me. I went in as a public patient because it was an emergency situation and I received the absolute best of care. I remember watching online when you started to walk, you had a prosthetic, all these sort of situations, which just reminded me that no matter how bad an incident is, like life continues, that we’re all living our lives.
You were living your lives. You were talking about returning to work as well. Does the last year feel like a year or a decade to you? Oh, it feels like it does feel like a decade.
Actually, I was in hospital for four months and because there was quite a bit of rehab involved and while it really wasn’t safe for me to come home living by myself. So there’s a lot of rehab that I had to do in the hospital. I also had to learn how to become a diabetic.
One of the most awesome things is I was very quickly, I had a phone call out of the blue from that organisation, Limbs for Life, which is actually based in Melbourne, which is a national organisation from a peer support volunteer who had a very similar circumstance to my own. Again, a cut foot on the beach that all went terribly wrong and it was so great to actually have that sort of phone call. And then also pretty quickly, I had the support of the hospital, the social worker there, the physio, the OT, to actually get the NDIS support to come through as well.
So I just had yesterday my renewal meeting for the NDIS and we’ll have funding for the next couple of years. That has made such a difference because there are so many things that you just can’t afford. For example, a prosthetic leg, we’re talking tens of thousands of dollars to get my new leg and there’s no way I could have afforded that, I could have for a longer term, but a one-off quick payment, get your leg, there’s no way I could have done that without the NDIS.
I’m chatting to James O’Brien who works here at the ABC, but who one year ago, as we’ve just been hearing, had his leg amputated and has just marked the first stump-aversary, that’s your words, not mine. Is that a common phrase? Look, it is that, the amp-aversary, stump-aversary. I think everyone takes it with good humour and that sort of thing.
And look, there is a lot of humour. I’ve heard every single joke there is about, don’t go out and get legless. Heard those jokes, there’s nothing to say, heard it all before.
But there is a great sense of humour, I have found. But there are also some really pretty difficult situations. I’ve been part of an American Facebook group and oh my goodness, they don’t have the National Disability Insurance Scheme, of course.
And there’s some really sad, terrible situations there. Also, lots of people on the group that I’ve been involved in have talked about phantom pain, which is you feel like your leg is still there. And I get that from time to time.
I feel like I have a sensation in my leg that’s no longer there. The first time I walked on a prosthetic limb, I put my foot down and I felt like my toes were touching the ground. It’s a very strange sensation.
There’s different therapy you can do for it, but it’s something that can be an ongoing thing. I also have to keep an eye on my leg and my feet, on the other leg as well, just in case things go wrong. James, aside from the obvious, how has this affected your relationship with your own body? Look, it’s interesting.
I always thought I had quite good legs. I always thought I had pretty nice legs, actually. I’ve had to reappraise myself in that sort of situation.
The other thing I’ve had to really become aware of is my presence in the community. Because you go out and people don’t see you because they’re walking along looking at their mobile phones or they’re sitting on a tram in the disability seats and don’t look up to see that you need help. So I’ve actually become more conscious of that and my presence in the world in both a physical sense and a more deeply spiritual sense.
Has your confidence grown in those moments, for example? Would you now proudly and rightly be able to say, excuse me, can I please have that seat? Yeah, I’d do that. I usually do that. And I also do it for other people who I think need it as well.
I still don’t feel confident in some parts of getting out in the community. So for example, I went to a fairly busy sporting event recently and a music event and I was terrified the entire time that I was going to fall over.
Well, James, as you would appreciate, it’s Breakfast Radio. So you know more than anyone that we should have more time than we do to chat. So I hope we get a touch base again. But I want to direct listeners to the beautiful article you’ve written.
It’s on the ABC News website, How My Life Has Changed in the Years Since I Became an Amputee. As I say, Twitter buddies, watching your journey for the last year. And it’s so great to be able to touch base this morning and to see that things are progressing well for you.
Imagine you’ve just come home from a holiday. You’re feeling a bit unwell. Not sure if it’s the flu or something similar.
The next thing you know, police are breaking into your home to save your life. You’ve collapsed. You’ve got an infected cut.
You’ve been rushed to hospital. Your leg then gets amputated below the knee. A year ago, this happened to my next guest.
James O’Brien had no idea this would be the turn his life took, but he’s determined to use his experience as a force for good. James, welcome to Afternoons.
Hey there, Michael.
Tell me how quickly this all happened.
Look, it happened very quickly. I was on a lovely holiday with friends in Cambodia and Vietnam, and I came back, and like you said, I was feeling a little bit sick.
And then I got, well, I passed out, basically. I was sort of not unconscious, but semi-conscious in a delirium for maybe two or three days, I think it was, when I was a little bit off the planet, according to some of my friends and colleagues. They said, you’re acting very strange, James.
Anyway, so I was losing control, and what was happening is I had a cut on my foot, and the infection was slowly getting worse and slowly moving up my leg. And when the ambulance and police arrived, along with friends, I don’t remember that at all. I’ve got a vague, vague memory of someone saying to me, don’t worry, we’re taking you to the hospital.
But that’s all I remember.
In the days afterwards, what went through your mind?
Well, I was in a coma, an induced coma, for three or four days. And when I woke up, my niece, who is actually a nurse, who knows about this sort of stuff, was sitting next to me and said, Jim, and my family calls me Jim, she said, we’ve got some news for you.
They’ve had to amputate your lower right leg. And she had to summon up a lot of courage to tell me. She thought I’d be really upset.
But actually, I didn’t feel too bad at all. I mean, I think it might have been the fact that I was on some very serious pain relief. It was fentanyl and ketamine and things like that.
So maybe it didn’t really dawn on me until maybe a little bit later.
Yeah. You work for the ABC, James, and there was a time you worked here in the Perth office, keeping everyone on the straight and narrow.
But there was a time when, and I was talking to my colleagues earlier about this, who were around when this happened to you, that you sort of disappeared off the radar. And you didn’t appear for a planning meeting. And this is when people started getting really worried about what had happened to you.
And I guess that’s really lucky that that happened. Look, the main thing is, I’m not sure if people remember, I used to present on the weekends on our digital radio platforms for ABC Perth and our other stations, I used to present a couple of hours of programs. And I was supposed to deliver those programs on a Friday.
And I didn’t deliver them. And everyone then got a bit worried because I’m always good at meeting deadlines, and I miss those deadlines. And that’s when phone calls started to be made, which I obviously didn’t answer, and so on.
And I live alone, so people just didn’t know what was going on. And that’s when the alarm bells were raised, and thank God they were. My very good friend and colleague, Joanne, said, we’ve got to get over there and see what’s going on.
So she rang up a couple of friends and said, let’s get over there, knocked on the door, no answer. And that’s when they called the police and the ambulance to come and see what was going on. And they sort of climbed around the windows and broke into the house and those sorts of things.
I suppose one of the downsides of living alone is that sometimes you’ve got someone else, if you live with someone else, who can keep an eye on things and nag you, go and get that foot checked out or something like that, which I didn’t do. And which is a real issue, because a lot of men of my age, I’m 58 years old, 59 in a few months time, we don’t look after our health. We think we’re going to be fine, and so on.
And it was so interesting because early in the piece, when I was lying in hospital, I got a phone call, a random phone call from an organisation called Limbs for Life, which is a support organisation for people who are amputees. And it was a guy on the phone who had an almost identical case to mine. And when I go to some of the amputee gatherings, there’s an awful lot of us who look like older men who haven’t looked after themselves.
So that’s hopefully one of the things I’m sort of emphasising by writing an article for the ABC website and talking on radio shows like this is, I would go to the doctor when I was sick, as opposed to checkups. So that was something I would say, blokes of a certain age, particularly, just go and get it checked out, because you don’t know what’s going on.
720, ABC Radio Perth. The Afternoon Show at 16 past three. My guest is James O’Brien. He, one year ago, had his leg amputated below the knee.
He had an infection, a small cut and undiagnosed diabetes. As you mentioned there, James, you are a part of a group that, as you’ve discovered in support groups, remarkably similar people in the same boats as you. But there are 8,000 people who have some kind of amputation across Australia each year.
And that’s quite a big number. Yeah. And it’s increasing too, for a bunch of reasons, one of which is the increase in diabetes in the country.
Diabetes is a leading cause of amputations, but there are other things too, like, for example, I met a woman a couple of months ago and she had cancer and lost one of her limbs through cancer. But there are a whole range of things. But yeah, amputations are on the increase in Australia.
You’ve mentioned in your article that you’ve written for ABC Lifestyle that you’ve passed what the amputee community calls your Stumpversary. And I guess as part of the tone of your article is this, I guess, lightness about what comes ahead for you now. What does the next year and the years beyond look like for you? Well, look, there’s always the risk.
I mean, I have a prosthetic limb now, which is great, which means I can walk around pretty well. I still find it difficult going out in crowds. There’s always the risk of someone knocking you over accidentally, which you can respond to when you have two legs.
So that’s an issue. And yesterday, in fact, only yesterday, I’ve been approved for a new prosthetic limb, which means I should be able to go and swim as well, which is awesome. So yeah, but there was always the risk that I could end up back in the wheelchair, which I was for about five months last year, unable to leave the house.
I live in an apartment block. There was heavy rain a few weeks ago, which stopped the lift. So it was really hard climbing up and down the stairs.
So there’s always the risk, but you’ve got to keep a good humor about things. And that’s one of the things, which has gotten me through. I’ve heard all the jokes, do you want a drink? Don’t get legless, James.
Heard that joke about 25 times. But you’ve just got to smile about things. And look, I could be dead.
I mean, I really could be. It was life and death for about 24 hours. And there was also the risk of brain damage.
So I feel incredibly lucky to be alive. And so for me, it’s just getting on with things. But I’ve also met people who don’t experience things so well, that it really impacts them.
And I understand why it does. I mean, I meet people who are double amputees. I’ve met someone who’s a quad amputee.
So there’s amputations on both legs and both arms. And I would find that hard, but maybe I just cope with it too. I don’t know.
You just got to thank goodness you’re alive and can live to tell the tale. And that’s what I say to anyone who might be going through this. Maybe anyone who’s going through… Some people have to make a choice to have an amputation.
So if you are going through an experience like that, reach out to some other people, read as much as you can, and go into it feeling that this is the next part of your life. It’s not worse. It’s not all of those things.
It’s just the next part of your life. Yeah, indeed. James, thank you so much for sharing your story.
ABC Central Coast Breakfast with Scott Levi
Are you punctual at work? Do you have habits at work? Do you do things on time? Do you have a pattern? Well, if you are a reliable worker, it could very well save your life. A great colleague of mine, who’s a fantastic radio personality who moved into management in ABC, James O’Brien, was saved by his work routine. And he joins us this morning in the studio.
Good morning, James.
Hi there, Scott.
This is quite an interesting aspect to what you went through, isn’t it? Take us through how your life was saved by the fact that you are reliable.
Yeah, so I used to present a weekend radio show on our digital stations and streams and so on. And I used to pre-record that program on a Friday and I would send it through to our offices to be played out on the weekends. However, just over 12 months ago, I didn’t make that deadline. And I’m really good at making deadlines. And it caused some concern amongst colleagues who tried to call me, no answer. They called friends, no answer. And they got to the point where they thought something is wrong. So they came to my house, knocked on the door, no answer. And what had happened was I’d recently been overseas and I had an infection in my foot, which had suddenly and quite dramatically taken over the lower part of my leg. And so I went into a diabetic delirium, undiagnosed diabetes, and I was basically out of it. And so they got the police in, they got the ambulance in, they took me to the nearby hospital, the closest hospital, and an immediate amputation of my lower right leg.
So it was blood poisoning, sepsis?
Yeah, sepsis. It was absolutely sepsis. Yeah.
And so you were really close to death. Why did they have to take your leg off, James, which is a pretty drastic sort of treatment?
Because the sepsis had turned into gangrene. I didn’t know this was going on because I was pretty much pretty out of it for a couple of days. So I didn’t know what was going on, but yeah, it basically had gone into gangrene. And like you say, it was a near death situation. If it had been maybe a few more hours before they found me, I would either be dead or I could be quite severely brain damaged.
The moral of the story, be a punctual, hardworking, reliable person. We’re speaking with James O’Brien from the ABC and it’s also very relevant, James. It’s the 12 month anniversary of this life shattering event. Take us through that time. And now you’re back in the workplace, of course, doing a great job as per usual at the ABC.
Yep. I’m back four days a week now. I still get tired because when you’re an amputee, you actually are physically more active because you’re having to do more steps and all those sorts of things. And also the undiagnosed diabetes means I suffer from a bit of fatigue. So I’m back four days, which is pretty good, but I was in hospital for four months. Initially I was in a coma, an induced coma for a few days. And then my niece came down from Lismore. Thankfully she’s a nurse, so she understood what was going on. And she, when I came out of the coma, said, look Jim, I’ve got to tell you something. And she was really worried about telling me this, that they’d amputated my lower right leg. But I was actually quite calm about things. I think it’s possibly I was still on a lot of pain relief. Some of those hospital drugs, whoa. So I was still on a lot of pain relief. And I also was just realised I was lucky to be alive. So, you know, my attitude throughout this whole experience has been pretty good. Some people find it absolutely traumatic. And when you say to people like, you know, you’ve had an amputation, they think, oh, how on earth did you get on? And isn’t this terrible? And I’ve said, look, the situation could be a hell of a lot worse.
Look, it shocked us all, all of your colleagues. And it really was mind-blowing to think. But your attitude through the whole thing has been terrific, mate. I must say you’ve been really accommodating to people. You’ve probably had the same stupid questions over and over again. You know, what do you do with your socks? I don’t know. But now we’re seeing lots and lots of images on TV of many amputees getting ready for the Paralympics in Paris.
It’s really interesting, isn’t it, that once every four years we see a lot of this, although it’s pretty common, I believe.
Yeah, look, I never really noticed amputees before this. Maybe, you know, sometimes you’d see someone walking down the street and, yeah, you go, oh, amputee. But it’s around 8,000 Australians each year have an amputation of some form, whether it’s fingers, toes, thumbs, to whatever it might be, to, in my case, lower limb, to some people I’ve met have been upper limb. I’ve met one man who was a quadruple amputee, thanks to meningococcal disease. So it’s actually pretty common, and it’s increasing too, and particularly amongst older Australians. So a lot of men, like, of a certain age, I’m 58, almost 59 years of age, and I looked, I used to go to the doctor when I got sick, but never really went for regular checkups. I should have. That might have helped with this, and also might have helped with the undiagnosed diabetes. But I now see amputees everywhere. Sometimes they’re wearing shorts or dresses or something like that, but other times you just sort of see them, and they’re wearing longer pants. I’m wearing a pair of longer pants today, for example, and you would never know, except if you’ve got the eye, and you can actually recognise that someone, oh yeah, they’re walking in a certain way, that you can see that they’re a lower limb amputee, in the case of me. Or other times, you know, it’s something people are born with. There’s a woman I work with here at the ABC who is an Olympic, a Paralympic champion, swimmer. She was born with different length limbs. So that is also an issue why some people wear prosthetic legs or limbs. Other people have diseases like meningococcal, or for me, sepsis. Other people, it’s cancer. I met one woman a few months ago who had cancer, and they had to remove the bottom part of her left leg. And then there’s another one I know who I met in hospital, who was there when I was there. She chose to have an amputation of her right leg, lower right leg, because she put up with pain over a number of years. So there are so many reasons why this happens to people. And, you know, everyone’s experience is slightly different in lots of ways.
James O’Brien, thanks for sharing your story. And it’s something that, in some cases, may be avoidable, as you say, if we get those health checks. But we’ll certainly catch up with you during the Paralympics to talk about your experience and what inspires you.
The Best Judge dressed as Agnetha from ABBA moving boxes earlier today.
No, not me. It’s my friend The Best Judge who is moving house in the next week or so. So I spent much of the day, along with another friend, helping him put things into boxes, and carrying things up and down stairs.
Although I’m a BIT of a hoarder, The Best Judge is on a much higher level. Thus it was a day of packing hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of CDs. Oh and vinyl too.
“Oh my goodness”, I shouted from the bedroom. “What’s up?’ came the reply. “Madonna’s first album was released on vinyl! Can you believe that?”, I said. That makes Madonna very old in my book.
As we three gentleman are of a certain age, I told them the story of a younger producer at work who needed help a couple of years ago in getting a track from an old vinyl record. “You just put the record on the turntable, make sure the needle and record are clean and find track 5 and bring it up through the desk…” I told her. It was as if I was speaking in a foreign language. I had to show her the gaps between tracks on a record, and how you had to count to find the track you were after. Seriously. I laughed for ages after that occurred.
Half way through the day I also amused my friends with the anecdote that I have a couple of tea chests in the garage which remain unopened from when I left Brisbane. “When did you leave Brisbane?, one asked. I responded simply, “1988”. I’m guessing that I no longer really need what’s contained in those tea chests, or… as I call them now… “my time capsules”. Odd, isn’t it, that I could have boxes which remain unopened, despite moves in between to Bourke, Renmark, Wagga Wagga, and then finally Sydney.
My dad was a hoarder too. It must be in the genes, this desire to hold on to physical things. Or perhaps there’s a deeper psychological thing going on?
Either way, things have been changing. For the last few months I’ve been engaged in an exercise of “de-cluttering” my life.
I’ve taken the one item a day model of removing things from my life which aren’t necessary, or which I no longer need. Every day I’ve vowed to remove one unnecessary item from my life. It could be a book. It could be a magazine. The magazines have been going to the recycling bins, and I’ve been giving the books to “the cosmos” (aka the back laneway) for whoever might want to collect them. And by and large, they’ve disappeared quickly.
I did something similar at work a couple of years ago, when, one day I concluded that I had too many cupboards and shelves, and that’s why I had so much stuff there also. In the industry I work in, we receive lots of CDs, DVDs and books every day. But now when I receive something new I rarely keep it, preferring instead to give it to someone else.
As I was catching a cab home last night, I took a photograph out of the window of the crowd enjoying their NYE in Sydney.
It was then I had what I thought at the time was a deeply philosophical thought. “Why do they drink so much on NYE”, I thought to myself. “Is it to forget the past year or prepare for the next”?, I thought to myself.
The reason why people drink alcohol is fairly complex. Why they drink so much on NYE is far more complex.
As I’ve chatted with friends and colleagues over the last few days, there’s been a recurrent theme: NYE is usually pretty crap. For my friends and colleagues, NYE never quite lives up to the hype. You go out with a bunch of people with an expectation it will be the greatest night of the year. There’s always some kind of drama (ranging from people who drink too much to not being able to get a cab). Soon, you realise NYE is not the greatest night of the year. There are probably many more far more enjoyable, far more meaningful days and nights of each year.
That said, I’ve had some really memorable NYE nights, including one with Graeme a few years back.
But generally speaking it’s all a bit too hard, and so I had made NO PLANS for this year. Well, my plan was to watch television and go to bed.
Mid-afternoon, however, my friend Kate told me she was planning to come down from Newcastle, and asked if I’d like to join her to watch the fireworks from her mother’s house at Drummoyne. Kate’s mother has a waterview, and although we didn’t see the great detail those at Circular Quay would have seen, I had a really lovely night chatting with her and her family and having a few drinks.
Kate celebrates NYE in Sydney
In my younger days I might have been tempted to have a few drinks too many and make a night of it. But this year at about one o’clock, I decided it was time to go home. “I could stay, but I just want to go home to my own bed”, I told one of Kate’s sisters when she suggested I sleep on the couch. I walked up to the main street of Drummoyne and got a cab within a few minutes of waiting.
As we made our way back through the city, there were countless people coming up to the cab as we stopped at traffic lights. “Why do they do it to themselves?”, I asked the taxi driver rhetorically.