I’ve grown up with a family of dominant women. Though there have been male influences in my family, it’s undboutedly the women who have influenced my family from an early age. I come from a matriarchal family, not a patriarchal one. From my early years, women have been my closest friends.
Unsure of what else to say on IWD, I thought I’d share a few of my favourite songs about the power of women through the decades.
We had our usual Wednesday night at the pub, which was loads of fun.
For whatever reason tonight, the big screen of the pub was showing VH1.
The first part of the night featured #1 hits of the 80s which, with a decidely Amercian bias, declared “We Are The World” to be that decade’s biggest hit.
We all watched the clip closely. “Oh my goodness, there’s Bette”, John said at one point. “Why is Michael Jackson separate from all the others?” Dave, who is a little younger than the rest of us asked.
I was concentrating a little more on the lyrics, noticing the slight cultural difference between the American version and the original UK version.
In the UK version, “Do They Know It’s Christmas” is all about helping the people of Africa…
It’s Christmas time
There’s no need to be afraid
At Christmas time
We let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty
We can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world
At Christmas time
which is followed by the refrain “Feed the world, Let them know it’s Christmas time”.
However, in contrast the American version seems to be a little more focussed on how good “we” will feel by helping the people of Africa…
There’s a choice we’re making
We’re saving our own lives
…which I note from Wikipedia was a much-debated part of the song.
And from there, VH1 had a show featuring lots of dead people. Yes, that’s right. Michael Hutchence in INXS, Laura Branigan etc.
The one thing they got terribly wrong was their #1, namely a song by AC/DC. The song they chose to play, “You Shook Me All Night Long” which featured the very much alive current lead singer of the band Brian Johnson, and not Bon Scott.
If you’re from VH1, and you read this blog: I’d suggest next time you do an “RIP” special, your number one choice should actually be someone who is RIP’ing…
One of the things I really love about the public transport system (in the centre of town at least) is, for the most part you never have to run to catch the subway (Tunnelbana). Of course there are times when you’ll need to run, for the most part if you miss one, another one will arrive soon. That wasn’t the case yesterday, as I struggled with the stern look of a bus driver who wanted to stay on time, with little concern for the middle aged bloke from Australia struggling with a backpack.’
I had a deadline to meet: I was scheduled to meet my AirBnB host in about thirty minutes. Thankfully I made it in time. I was even a little early. The apartment is better than I thought it would be: more spacious than I expected, located in a terrific area, and my host seems like a really terrific guy. Once again, I’m located on Södermalm, with shops and bars closeby, and with excellent public transport options. As you’ll see from below, there is a bar located in the basement of the apartment block, though I’m unsure if it’s peak hipster or Steptoe & Son.
Before lunch with Robert and Sandra, we had been to see a private performance at the Hardrock Cafe by Isaiah Firebrace, Australia’s entrant in the Eurovision Song Contest. I hadn’t known he was going to be in Stockholm, until a chance meeting on Thursday night.
He performed three songs, had photographs taken with fans, and undertook one of those excruciating Q&As with a Swedish radio announcer (who we learned more about, possibly, than Isaiah himself). “I think you did a terrific job at Eurovision”, I told him. He seemed like a nice young lad.
You remember how I mentioned the other week it’s twenty years since I started working at the ABC?
Well, it’s also twenty years since I moved to South Australia.
I remember vividly arriving in Renmark on a Friday afternoon, after an overnight stay in Broken Hill. I remember vividly the drive on the back road between Wentworth and Renmark which took me via Rufus River, a spectacular “oasis” in the “desert” landscape of the corner country where South Australia, New South Wales and Victoria meet.
Working as a journalist/presenter, I spent a lot of time talking about the environment, and in particular some of the Murray River environmental problems.
This trip to South Australia is bringing back memories of many things from the past.
Today, for example we visited the mouth of the Murray River, and in particular the lock which separates fresh and salt-water. On the freshwater side there are reeds and Black Swans. On the saltwater side, your eyes are led out to the ocean. Down the middle is a lock with just one bloke working there today doing some repairs.
The only other visitors where a couple in their fifties who came in, made a brief inspection and left. Sue and I were left wondering if maybe the bloke had worked on the lock for many years and still made “daily inspections”? Or if perhaps they were a couple on a round Australia trip taking in the sights of infrastructure irrigation, as I’m sure some people do.
Although my memories of covering irrigation, salination, and other environmental stories were strong, we struggled to remember the detail of the Hindmarsh Island Bridge affair, other than a very vague memory that it involved disputed claims over the sacredness of the land to the local indigenous people.
After having a look at the land around the bridge, we had a late morning tea at a cafe in Goolwa. The only other people in the cafe was a group of eight or nine women (and one husband) who we agreed were part of a tennis or walking group which met regularly. They were all in their sixties, we assumed.
Well, virtually everyone we’ve seen since arriving has been in their sixties. “The greying of Australia” is very evident in this region, with young people (we include ourselves in that category, relatively speaking) few and far between.
That was also the case at lunch today. As we headed towards our destination, we walked past the Port Elliott Bowling Club. Looking through the window there wasnt a free seat in the house. It’s as if everyone who hit retirement age in Adelaide had suddenly moved south.
At the recommendation of a friend of Sue’s, we had lunch at the nearby Flying Fish Cafe at Port Elliott.
“Shall we sit outside in the cafe, or go into the restaurant?, asked Sue, to which there was only one answer.
Inside, we had a great table which overlooked the ocean, afforded us some wind proteciton, but which also allowed a nice breeze in.
Afrer sharing half a dozen oysters – the ones with onion and balsamic were the best – we both had beer-battered fish. Sue had the flatheard, while I had the garfish. Both meals were large and tasty, though not necessarily worth a tip.
Looking around the restauant there were lots of retired people “doing lunch”, while outside it looked as if there might be a school excursion underway.
A brief walk followed lunch which took us around the sites of Port Elliott, including their lovely palm tree memorial to local soldiers, as well as affording us pretty spectacular views of the coastline.
All of this physical activity, naturally enough, resulted in the need for a mid-afternoon nap ahead of tonight’s “penguin tour” on nearby Granite Island.
We were expecting it to be much colder than it turned out to be, as we walked the bridge from the mainland to the island. A seafog that has drifted in has both brought the temperature down, but also maintained it at a reasonable and consistent level.
Sue, who knows Phillip Island well, contrasted the difference between the penguins there and the penguins here. “There’s hundreds and thousands there, here we’re looking for just a few” she observed as we walked around a small part of the suitably named, “Granite Island”.
With a soft red torch, we were led by a guide from the National Parks and Wildlife Service, in search of the penguins, and were told about the risk they currently faced, especially from increasing seal numbers. “Seals are actually increasing at about the rate of 10 to 15 percent each year”, the guide mentioned.
Overall it was a really interesting, satisfying, and relaxing day. What more could you hope for except a good night’s sleep? I’m exhausted…
As I watched episode one of “Tales Of The City”, I looked over at the beautiful rainbow sunset out the window. Although I’ve flown many, many times I don’t think I’ve ever noticed something like that before. As much as I wanted to lean over and take a photograph, there was a man in the window seat who I decided not to disturb.
I noticed he was reading “Quadrant”, the conservative journal. This took me quite by surprise, as the audience for Quadrant is now quite small. Niche, you might say. Twenty or thirty years ago I remember reading the magazine as part of my university studies. Though I remember it was conservative-leaning then, I don’t remember it being as conservative as it is nowadays. I’ve read a few articles online, and it’s definitely taken a swerve to the more extreme right, with views different to my own on marriage equality and the ABC. As I looked over, I saw the headline featured the word “Muslim”. With that, I went back to watching “Tales Of The City”.
I have all three series of the TV production on DVD, and so on the weekend, I backed up the first series, as something to watch during my time in Hobart. I’m back here for a few days, and then I’m returning to Sydney.
Also on the weekend, we caught up with some friends visiting from the United States. He’s American; she’s Dutch, and they’ve been together for almost twenty years. He”s retired; she’s still working. She first came to Australia about ten years ago, and this was their third visit together. With only limited annual leave, they’ve discovered a real affinity with Australia, and really enjoy their time here.
On Saturday we wandered to the Opera House where the Homeland Indigenous Arts Festival was on; and spent some wonderful leisure time sitting in the Botanic Gardens, enjoying the sunshine, the breeze, and some wonderful chat.
On Sunday, we travelled to the Central Coast, for a terrific lunch overlooking the water. Along the way, we enjoyed the wonderful landscape you can see from the train. It’s an awesome trip, and one I’d recommend for visiting tourists.
Later on Sunday I went to movie, and then ever later still called in with a mate for a drink at Sydney’s Stonewall Hotel. Every Sunday night they have a lip-synching competition, where a bunch of well-lubricated people are encouraged to take to the stage, put on a wig, and lip-synch to some well known pop divas. It’s great fun.
Ordinarily, it’s a bunch of ordinary people you wouldn’t recognise in the street. But on Sunday night, as one woman took the stage, I instantly recognised her as Elaine Crombie from Black Comedy, amongst other shows. I’m not sure how many other people recognised her. She was awesome as she performed initially as Whitney Houston, and then later, brought down the house, as she was joined on stage by some others to perform as Tina Turner. Awesome. Totally awesome!
Despite the late night, I made it to work in Sydney fairly early, ahead of heading back to Hobart.
This time around, I’m staying in an apartment above a coffee shop run by a beefy man (possibly bear) with a beard and a bun, and a hairdressing salon called Bespoke. I’m not sure if I’m cool enough, but it’s home for the next few days. It seems like an area full of restaurants, bars and public art. Yes, it seems like home.
Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.
