Most years there’s two or three songs I really, really like, and “meh” is my usual reaction to most of the remainder. But this year, there were half a dozen songs I really liked, including one I’ve put on permanent repeat.
You know how when you’re a teenager you play the same song over and over and over and over again? Imagine, if you would, a 54 year old man dancing around the lounge room. I’ve become a teenager again! I hope the neighbours don’t mind.
This is the song I have on permanent repeat. You can hear his voice has gone through some significant audio processing, but what the hey. This song is very catchy, even if the title and lyric is a little bit creepy!
Sweden always produces the goods.
Iceland often puts forward some of my favourites in Eurovision. This is a great song, with a fun performance, and a lovely lyric. The lyric is he and his wife speaking to their newborn child about “the first time they met”. BTW, he’s impossibly tall, and his wife is the shortest member of the group (on the left).
This guy from Switzerland has a terrific voice, and the melody is strong too.
A terrific soulful dance number from Malta.
Maybe twenty years ago, the Belgian band, Hooverphonic had an awesome song called “Mad About You”. Ever since then, I’ve had a soft spot for them. It was awesome to see them turn up in Eurovision.
Something fun from Russia. Don’t you think the male “vocalist” looks like the Robert Carlyle’s character of “Begbie” in “Trainspotting”? If you’ve made it this far, the dancer in this clip probably demonstrates what I look like in the first song featured.
Even though we didn’t have a “proper” Eurovision this year, there were lots of countries conducting their own specials. I watched the SVT (Swedish TV) special on Friday, and then the SBS (Australian TV) on Saturday, both of which I enjoyed. Iceland topped for both countries. I also watched the “official” “Shine A Light” special which, though well intentioned was a bit of a yawn. “The world is terrible, but there’s a light shining through…” Yeah, yeah, got it. Play me the songs!
It was interesting to watch these specials with mostly video clips, instead of live performances. The live performances can sometimes be a little dodgy. Though authentic, you hear a few bum notes, crazy choreography, and weirdly imagined creative interpretations of the songs. With the video clips, the imagery is generally flawless, and there’s also no doubt a few of the songs / vocals have done with a bit of “enhancement”. But, what the hey? What’s the alternative?
It’s Friday night and I’m at home listening to the radio. Bernie Hobbs from ABC Science is on 702 tonight and I’m listening for both professional and personal reasons. For those who know me, which is you, the professional bit is obvious, but the personal is because I genuinely like listening to her on the radio. I think she has a great energy about her.
I’ve just realised my last three updates have all been about people paying me a visit. First there was Pat and then there was Anthony and Sue, and this week it was my niece Karran. It’s not often that a family member pays me a visit. Actually when I think about it, the only time I’ve had a family visit here in Sydney was from Pat and Michelle in 1995 and from Karran in 1996. Still, I go home to Lismore a few times each year, so it’s not as if I never see them. But by and large they don’t come to Sydney… my family is more of a “visit Brisbane” family than a “visit Sydney” family.
Karran had never been on a plane before. So she and her friend Donna were lucky enough to obtain some cheap flights and ended up in Sydney where they decided it would be a great idea to see the Opera House, go shopping, see Kings Cross etc. As I was reasonably busy with work throughout the day, and Karran only texted me the night before and I was unable to change my work for the day, so we caught up from about 3-7pm on their one day to Sydney trip. It was my job to show her Kings Cross. She was, however, disappointed that at 6pm on a Wednesday night prostitutes weren’t lining the streets. “Where are they all, Jim?” she asked.
Karran visits Sydney
The only other bit of excitement this week was a couple of drinks last night with Laura from work, which was great fun.
The weekend looks good though, with Yum Cha tomorrow with Damien and Rhea, the Italian festival on Sunday and birthday drinks for Michael on Sunday afternoon.
And then next weekend, I’m heading bush… out to Coonamble in far Western NSW for the Coonamble Rodeo. Coonamble Shire declares Ours is a place where the Warrumbungle National Park crowds the horizon in the east and the wetlands of the Macquarie Marshes shimmer to the west. A place where the clear starry nights invite stargazing, campfires and a boiling billy. A place where the sunlit plains light up to rodeos, polocrosse, picnic races and farming life. It’s the first time I’ve been that far west in NSW since my last visit to Bourke in 2000.
“Colin would have loved this show”, my friend Michaela noted as we enjoyed a half-time drink at “Ruthless – The Musical” at Sydney’s Seymour Theatre tonight. The show was well acted, well sung, it was camp, and it was fun, but it was also deadly serious. It was the kind of show Colin and I would have bought tickets to see togther. Sadly, he passed away last night, and so tonight Michaela and I held our glasses high and remembered him.
Phantom of the Opera Colin
I told Michaela tonight about the first time I’d met Colin. It was at the end of 1991 and I’d recently arrived in Wagga (from Renmark) and was invited by a couple of new friends to attend a party at Colin’s place. Although Colin was the Head of Drama at Charles Sturt University for many years, I didn’t know him from a bar of soap. I hardly knew the people who’d invited me. So when Colin walked up to me and asked (with a wry smile), “Who are you and what are you doing here”, I replied, “I was told if I wanted to meet anyone interesting in Wagga, I should meet you”. “You can stay”, he said with a laugh.
Over the next few years our friendship in Wagga blossomed. It was cemented when we both, at similar periods in time, moved to Sydney. With a bite to eat here, and a glass of wine there, we became good friends, sharing a common love of theatre.
Colin Anderson marching against the Middle East War
In the last few years his health declined dramatically, and so he eventually moved back to Newcastle (to be closer to his family). It’s probably eighteen months, now, since we’ve enjoyed a night at the theatre together. I woke this morning and saw the late night text message from his niece, Helen, that Colin had passed. It wasn’t a surprise. I went to Newcastle on the weekend to say “goodbye”. Though unconscious, I hope he knew I was there. He had been in a lot of pain and discomfort. His passing was, in many ways, a relief. And then tonight, fittingly, I went with a friend to the theatre to see a show Colin would have loved, and toasted the life of a good friend of over twenty years.
I realised last night what an anti-social creature I’ve become. To avoid conversation and contact with other human beings while on the bus to Circular Quay, I actually put my headphones on without the sound playing. It was actually quite good, as the headphones both blocked out the sound, and gave me the ability to appear invisible.
That’s what headphones do you know. They allow you a moment of quiet in an otherwise busy city. And for the less socially conscious, they allow you ignore people begging for money without appearing to be heartless. Sorry, that’s being a tad cynical.
I was on my way into the city to see “Up Close & Musical” at Sydney Theatre. While many would think of nothing but sleep at 11.15pm, I really love the idea of late night cabaret and I’m really pleased it was well-attended.
Star of the show was Genevieve Lemon (currently Priscilla Queen of the Desert) who has lost a significant amount of weight, by the way. She sang some great songs and was warmly welcomed by the audience.
Supporting her were Jennifer Peers (a beautiful voice and loads of fun with a routine where she sang a classical piece with her own humorous surtitle) along with Luke Barron and Jason Langley.
A great night out, especially since the $18 (I was shouted, actually) also included a generous glass of wine.
I spent a few months in hospital last year after my below the knee right leg amputation. This inclulded a few days in an induced coma, and on heavy medication. In one of my hallucinogenic dreams, I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital bathroom alone because “my faeces were so toxic they would poison the entire Sydney water supply”. In another drug-induced dream, I was convinced one of the nurses was planning to blow up the hospital
In common, Tom Nash in the book “Hook, Line, and Sinner,” describes some hilarious coma-related dreams while he too was in hospital. He also describes the weird situation of being in a coma and knowing a little about what what going on around him, but not entirely. I totally understood what he meant when he said, you know “when you’re being talked to and when you’re being talked about.”
My friend Andrea gave me the book before Christmas because she thought I would be interested in Tom’s story as a fellow amputee. And when I say amputee, his situation was a little more dramatic than mine, having had both arms and legs removed due to Meningococcal disease. She also thought I would like the book because the writing displays such a great level of self-awareness, and such a great sense of humor.
Andrea interviewed Tom for ABC Radio a few months ago and introduced us to each other in the foyer of ABC Radio Sydney. We chatted briefly, with a laugh-out-loud moment where we noted we had seen each other with a double take earlier in the day in the foyer of the ABC in Ultimo. I was having coffee with a colleague, Elizabeth Wright, who is also a Paralympic swimmer. Though not an amputee (she was born with different length limbs), she wears prosthetics. “For a moment, I thought it was amputee’s day at the ABC,” Tom joked.
I’m not exactly sure why I’ve been holding off reading the book, though I’m sure there’s something deep and psychological going on to explain why it has remained unread. Although some friends have given me other books and readings about the experiences of amputees, I’ve also been holding off on reading them also. The other books and readings probably fall into the category of “inspiring stories,” about people who’ve lost limbs in dramatic circumstances but have then gone on to climb Mount Everest.
Jokingly, Tom says this book is not an “inspiring story of someone with a disability”.
The book is in three “acts”: life before contracting the illness, his experiences in hospital, and his reflections on the amputations, and his life afterward.
His early life involved a childhood in South Africa and the United States before finally settling in Sydney with his mother, after his parents separated. His early life wasn’t particularly extraordinary, aside from the anecdotes about teenage drug and alcohol use (nothing terribly extraordinary) and setting up his own small business along with a friend.
On starting university, he began working at a pub in Balmain, and it was during that year that he contracted Meningococcal disease, a severe, often deadly disease. In Tom’s case, much of the skin on his body, especially his arms and legs, was impacted. Effectively, the skin “died,” which led to the amputations.
He was in the hospital for many months, including being in the burns unit, due to the impact of the disease on his skin. His descriptions of the pain he experienced throughout, including when the wounds were dressed daily, are confronting. At some points, he said he considered suicide. He also described the dedication of family and friends, including his mother who was there every and helped with the wounds dressing.
The book also describes his recovery, includintg his first experience of dating a community support worker who was assisting someone assigned to help with him. He describes the apprehension he felt about whether or not he was still sexually attractive to women due to the amputations, but he also comes across with a lovely self-confidence that he should give it a go, nonetheless. The relationship lasted a few months.
The third act of the book describes the years after the medical procedure, and how his life is now, aged in his early forties. I won’t go on with the plot, except to say Tom has a good story to tell.
Tom has a lovely writing style that is engaging, with a lovely sense of self-awareness, and a wicked sense of humour. I really loved reading this book on so many levels, and even if you haven’t had an amputation, it’s still a great story. I actually bought the audio book also, and Tom has a lovely voice that tells the story with such great authenticity.
And even if Tom says it’s not the “inspiring story of someone with a disability,” I found it so.
You know how I was saying I was working a little bit too hard the other day, and how I thought that had contributed to my weight gain?
Well tonight didn’t help much either, as dinner tonight consisted of an awful lot of champagne and canapes.
I was reminded briefly of a friend who used to work in the art world, and observed that she spent about two years in which her evening meal consisted of nothing but champagne and canapes, as she attended a range of social functions associated with her work.
“I became very fat”, she later observed.
Related to my work, I attended two functions tonight with champagne and canapes, and which billed themselves as international events.
The World Masters Games starts in ten days and features about 25,000 athletes competing, making it significantly larger than the Olympic Games.
“What was it like here in Sydney during The Games?”, a colleague who was from another city asked me over a glass of bubbly tonight. “Bloody fantastic”, I told her, observing there was lots to do both in terms of sport and cultural activities, the trains ran on time, the roads were reasonably free of traffic, and the city had a great spirit of co-operation about it.
World Masters Games Launch
Sydney International Food Festival Launch
Tasty
And the band played on…
Cheese
Jamon
Jamon
Manhattan
Mamma Mia at Star City
The other event launch I attended was for the inaugural Sydney International Food Festival, an event which has grown from the Good Food Month.
“Sydney is such a great place to eat”, I thought to myself over another glass of champagne. I love the fact that we have those really world class restaurants, which are often very expensive, but we also have an AMAZINGLY good range of cheap food. Not a week goes by when I don’t discover something new and interesting.
And best of all… “Mamma MIa” is about to re-launch at Star City.
Tonight, I attended what’s being billed as the final ever “Wharf Revue”. This annual satirical comedy event has been a Sydney institution for 25 years. The creators, now in their 60s, have clearly poured their hearts and souls into this production. Judging by tonight’s performance, they’re determined to go out with a bang!
The show opened with Jonathan Biggins, one of the creative forces behind the Revue, delivering a masterful impersonation of Paul Keating. Biggins, who previously starred in a play about the former Prime Minister, absolutely nailed Keating’s voice, mannerisms, and attitude. The opening skit cleverly highlighted the importance of the arts in political discourse, with a witty reminder that even the most brilliant cabaret couldn’t have stopped the rise of Hitler.
Much of the Revue focused on Australian politics, with hilarious send-ups of figures like Pauline Hanson, Kevin Rudd, Tony Abbott, and Julia Gillard. One particularly memorable bit skewered Gina Rinehart and Clive Palmer, and the Jackie Lambie sketch was hilarious. The show didn’t shy away from international targets either, with a biting satire of the Trump era and the media landscape. A brilliant sequence portrayed Rupert Murdoch as a Mr. Burns-like figure, enlisting a Homer Simpson-esque character to play the role of Peter Dutton.
There were so many laugh-out-loud moments. One line that particularly tickled me was a reference to Senator Larissa Waters: “I thought that was a cattle station in the Northern Territory!”
As soon as I got home, I messaged friends urging them to see it before its final run, and that’s what I’m suggesting people in Sydney should right now. I’m pretty sure it will tour to other centres, as it normally does.
I can’t recall exactly when I first saw the Wharf Revue, but I believe it was with my friend Colin, who is sadly no longer with us. Over the past 20 years, I’ve seen it on and off, though I admit I lost interest for a while. A few years ago, the humor felt a bit too mean-spirited for my liking. While I appreciate sharp political satire, it seemed to cross a line into personal attacks. Thankfully, this final show has rediscovered the right balance, delivering cutting wit without resorting to unnecessary cruelty.
Standing ovation for the cast tonight at The Wharf Revue.
This year’s performance was particularly poignant for me. It’s been almost 18 months since my lower leg amputation, and I’m still recovering. Last year, I saw the Revue at the Seymour Centre, and I vividly remember struggling with the stairs. Navigating those steps without a handrail on the inner side was a real challenge. I had to use the handrail on the far right, slowly make my way down to the front, and then awkwardly shuffle across the stage to find my seat.
Determined to have a more comfortable experience this time, I booked a front-row seat. It was the perfect solution, providing an unobstructed view and easy access. This simple change made a huge difference to my enjoyment of the show.
The final Wharf Revue was a brilliant send-off to a beloved Sydney tradition. It was a night of laughter, reflection, and a reminder of the power of satire to hold a mirror to society.
Though it was at the Seymour Centre, the backdrop for the set paid tribute to The Wharf Theatre which was a long-time home to the show.
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“You know how when you’re a teenager you play the same song over and over and over and over again?”
You mean there are people who stop doing this when they become adults?
“You know how when you’re a teenager you play the same song over and over and over and over again?”
You mean there are people who stop doing this when they become adults?
Heheheheeh