At about 10.30 this morning the phone rang. The caller was from the newsagency where Jack goes to put on his weekly lotto entry. She explained Jackhad dropped his player’s card on the ground, and that someone had picked it up and handed it in at the counter.
As tempting as it was to tell Jack the newsagency had called and they had a cheque for a million dollars waiting for him, I decided not to.
Instead, I went over town, picked up the card, and brought it home. While there I also put an entry on. As I write this, I might be a millionaire, myself. Who knows?
It was really the only reason I had for leaving the house today. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I could have just stayed at home reading, listening to music or watching television.
But instead, I ended up doing a fair bit of walking today. I haven’t checked my phone to see how far I walked, but it was extensive.
Walking and exploring Lismore, taking in the detail of some of my hometown, which I might otherwise not notice (or know about).
For example, I discovered there’s a renewed push for traffic lights in Lismore. Oddly enough, for a city of around 50,000 people, we don’t have any traffic lights, only roundabouts.
I think it was 1979 when Lismore got its first set of traffic lights. They were removed after a number of years, replaced with a roundabout. Now we’re sick of roundabouts and traffic lights are back on the agenda.I spotted these great calico bags in a shop window. I resolved to visit the shop when it’s open and pick one up. It will be a nice addition to my shopping bags when I return to Sydney.I took a closer look at the architecure of some of Lismore’s pubs. I spotted Dolly Parton in a shop window. (She’s bankrolling a reading initiative in NSW).I took a closer look at the pie cart. Though previously I’ve concentrated more on the meat pies, it was interesting to take a closer look at the machinery.
And I shot a short video walking through one of Lismore’s laneways, taking a closer look at some of the public art. Though I’ve previosly blogged here about the laneway art, this video gives you a different view of things.
A walk through a Lismore laneway, looking at some public art. The day ended with a walk down by the river.
There will be more river shots tomorrow, as I’m going for a boat ride along the river. A relative of mine has a boat (keen fisherman). He likes the photographs I take, and has offered me a mid-late afternoon boat ride.
Although I’m sure it would have been useful, I’ve been holding off on buying an umbrella while travelling. I’ve been thinking it’s just one more bit of crap to carry around. And besides, I have a very good leather jacket, which is both warm and water-proof, and I also have a cap that keeps my head dry, which is surprisingly important if you’re follically challenged. But today, after the second continuous day of rain in Prague, with my cap soaked through, I bought an umbrella.
It was one of those cheap ones I knew would only last a day or two. For only $3 Australian, I’m please to say it’s survived the day reasonably intact. But yeah, crap. And remember those underpants I bought in Latvia or Estonia (I don’t remember)? Well, they’ve turned out to be pretty crap also.
So with terrible weather today, I looked for something totally indoors to do. I noticed the other day a poster for the International Trienalle of Contemporary Art at the National Gallery of Prague, and so I’ve spent most of the day there.
It’s a really great overview of a range of contemporary visual art, including painting, photography, sculptures, installations and video. There is so much to see in the exhibition, it’s almost exhaustive to recount what I saw on about four separate levels of the gallery.
The most memorable works for me, though, were the following.
* A black on black landscape piece by Sven Druhl. It’s a forest scene and it’s just beautiful, even though everything is painted black.
* Chi Peng has a wonderful large photograph which portrays a field of hundreds of Buddas.
* Jae-une Choi has a great four-screen video piece where he does four individual dances to a simple atmospheric piece of music.
* There’s a very moving piece by Adi Nes which is a series of photographs of modern people, many of them apparently homeless, portraying stories from the Bible.
* Mariusz Waras has a great piece called “Drop & Drag City” where people are encoured to interact with the art, to actually move magnetic buildings on an imaginery city themselves. Great fun, and apparently you can do it online too.
* Marek Schovanek has an inspired piece which portrays a series of mounted throphies, like the ones you see with stuffed animal heads. Instead, because we don’t hunt anymore, he’s used parts of shopping trolleys to imitate the antlers.
* There’s also a very funny photograph, based on that famous painting of dogs playing poker called “Monkey Disco” which is just as the name applies.
In other news, I’ve decided I’m going to campaign for smoke-free bars in Prague. Although I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my life, I’ve never been to much of a fascist when it comes to smokers. I wouldn’t have anyone smoke in my house, but I don’t get upset if a friend and I have a glass of wine together on a balcony or something like that, and they smoke. Mostly, it doesn’t worry me.
Here in the Czech Republic, however, they don’t appear to have any anti-smoking laws at all. And it’s awful. Last night, for example I went in search of a friendly little bar I’d found on the internet called, “Friends”. It’s a nice enough place, mostly inhabited by men my age, and ten years younger or older than myself. But everyone smoked! It was like the smoking room at Changi Airport in Singapore which is disgusting even from the outside.
Thankfully though I found another place called Valentino, located about ten minutes from the hostel at Vinohradska 40. Although the restaurant/bar section you walk into can be a little intimidating, it’s much better downstairs where there are two more bars. One plays lots of camp and girly stuff (along with some disco classics), and even the occasional Czech language pop hit. The the other plays more “serious” dance music. You know: the stuff you can’t sing along to.
There was a really great vibe about the place, with lots of smiling faces without the chemical reliance you often see in Sydney. That said, I thought the “serious” dance space was on the verge of developing a little bit of that awful generic western gay ‘tude. Or maybe there were just too many tourists there?
But one of the best things about the place is they seemed to have got their anti-smoking ventilation system working pretty well. And although I was only there for a short while, I’ll probably head back there again sometime. Maybe tonight?
I don’t know why I needed to go looking for a gay bar though, as it seems I have one right downstairs in the cafe of the hostel where I’m staying. In the midst of the UK lager-louts, there’s a surprising number of gay men staying here (mostly with their “best female friend”). It must be the furnishings.
Actually I probably will head out for a drink and a dance tonight at that bar just around the corner.
I hope the rain clears up though, as it’s starting to shit me a bit. On our tour yesterday, the guide showed us the level of the last big floods six years ago which affected the Lower Town. It reminded me of when I was in Germany at the age of 17 when, visiting Cologne, I was there for the start of their big floods. Hopefully, that won’t happen here.
The gallery itself is pretty amazing. I really like the way they make use of open spaces.
But my overall favourite work was by Laurd Ford called Armory Boys, a series of bronze sculptures depicting dead soldiers in a battlefield. It’s remarkably beautiful and very moving.
For a bunch of reasons, the Andrew Olle Media Lecture marks a number of points in my life. It’s an annual event that I’ve been attending for, you know, maybe 25, almost 30 years. It’s an event where I get dressed up. It’s an event where there have been some memorable speakers, and it’s an event where there have been some pivotal moments throughout my life, so it’s a really interesting annual touchstone for me.
Last night, I went to this year’s Andrew Olle Media Lecture, which was given by Geraldine Doogue.
Geraldine spoke about the many changes in the media she’s seen in her life, and her enduring wonderment about what the media has to offer the community. In particular, I was intrigued about the work she mentioned being done by Swedish Radio to track the “public service value” of the stories they do.
Geraldine Doogue delivers the Andrew Olle Media Lecture
I also just love the fact that Geraldine has this incredibly sharp mind and passion for the news and media, having been working in the media for over 50 years. It was truly great to hear her interest, analysis and enthusiasm after all these years.
It was also a significant one for me in terms of my own journey with disability over the last couple of years.
Three years ago, I went to the Andrew Olle lecture a few months after my amputation and other life-changing health conditions. It was tough, to be honest, due to the combination of health problems, but it was still really great to be there. I was still using crutches at the time and figuring out how to get around. I remember one of the most amusing things at that particular event was the difficulty I had getting my shoes and pants on and off because of the prosthetic. The issue is that prosthetic leg is slightly wider than my human leg, and sometimes it’s hard to get skinny pants down over the top of it, aside from flexible material like track and cargo pants.
Last year, I was actually at a table where I discovered a woman near me who also had a prosthetic limb due to an injury she sustained in a car accident a number of years ago. It was a surprising and comforting moment of shared experience.
A year ago, I went to the Andrew Olle Media Lecture, and I was close to a point where I thought I might be able to wear long pants again over my prosthetic leg, without major clothing adjustments but at that point, that wasn’t possible. This was my interim leg, ahead of my “permanent” leg which I have now.
I was hoping it might be possible this year, and thankfully, it was!
In the last few months, knowing I’ll have this particular sized prosthetic for a few more years, I’ve started to have some pants adjusted. I actually went out and bought a brand new suit where the pants were a bit wider than the jacket, and then I had some amendments or adjustments made along the way to both legs, to make them a little bit smaller so it still actually goes over my prosthetic limb. Recently, I bought another suit from a second-hand store, and it just fitted over the top already, which was amazing, and I was able to get them adjusted just in terms of length. The height or the length wasn’t too bad, but it was, you know, it was good.
Then, a few months ago, I bought a pair of formal suit pants that were a bit wider at the knees, and they actually fit over my prosthetic limb! I was able to have them adjusted too in terms of length and width of the regular leg.
So, there was a great sigh of relief last night when I was able to put the pants on, put the jacket on, and pull the pants down, looking like I used to in the old days of going to the Andrew Olle lecture.
The only “informality” was the shoes I wear, a comfortable pair of Skechers. Getting the shoe on and off my prosthetic foot is difficult, and so I mostly wear the same pair of shoes everyday.
Relief, too, at the end of the night where I could also take them off easily. I know it sounds silly and superficial, but it was a really nice thing to do.
The Andrew Olle Media Lecture usually gets a run on ABC TV over the weekend, and will be available I assume on iview.
I don’t think it’s “tip night” (one of those nights where the local council encourages people to leave out rubbish they no longer need to be picked up and disposed off), but there’s a hell of a lot of rubbish in my back lane way tonight.
Amongst the many items I saw there was a terrific lamp (no longer discarded, currently residing in my lounge room), a television set, a very expensive piece of fully working sound equipment (also residing in my house), as well as a box of discarded junk which I just left there. It was like Christmas.
I have been away from work for the last two days with some kind of weird hayfever/summer cold kinda thing. In fact, I felt so shit I was on the verge of cancelling my planned visit to the doctor to have some potential skin cancer spots identified. It would be all too confusing I thought, to turn up coughing and spluttering. On top of that, there’s the sebaceous cyst which has recently re-appeared on my back, almost seven years after it was surgically https://thelimbshift.com/2012/02/02/26-36-46/ removed. “I’m here for the skin cancer spots”, I told my doctor, though mentioning the other ailments.
All those years of being a pasty-faced boy growing up in the country, combined with a red-headed ancestry makes me a prime candidate for skin cancer. “I diagnosed myself thanks to Google”, I told the doctor, adding, “But I thought I should get them properly checked”. She agreed with my analysis. So yeah, a couple of spots to be frozen off next week, or maybe cream, as I also suffer with keloid scarring. The 1991 appendectomy scar is still with me now, appearing like it happened only last week. Nothing to worry about, though she added “But with your skin, I think we need to hook you up with a dermatologist”.
Combined with a case of summer flu, I was feeling a bit down today. But then my friend Kate called, and asked “I’m in Surry Hills. Where are you?”. We caught up for a late lunch and a chat, which made me feel soooooo much better. She’s an awesome photographer, and here’s her photograph of my feet where you can spot the skin cancer spot (or at least one of them).
I don’t really know what to say about the floods in Lismore, except they’ve had a deep impact on me, even though I’m many hundreds of kilometres away, and even though for the most part, I’m reasonably relaxed about floods at home, as I have written previously.
“Yeah the river’s up, but it’s nothing to worry about”, I’ve often said to my family previously. They usually rely on me for forecasts, interpretations from the SES/Weather Bureau etc. And for the most part, I tell them not to worry. But this time around. when it was clear about how bad things could be, I told them to worry. I was especially concerned for my older family members. They might have lived through floods in 1954 and 1974, and it was all okay, but this time around, they’re in their 60s and 70s, and no longer as able to move around as much. I’m actually a bit grumpy with them, and their choices to “stay at home” this time, when I was clear with them about the risk. There’ll be a “family debrief” I’m sure. From afar it was difficult to think of my family facing such difficult times.
The view from above, thanks to ABC News coverage, where you can see a few family homes surrounded by water.
In explaining my own feelings, I went part of the way this week, on the radio show I present, Editor’s Choice, introducing some interviews from some people from home.
This time a week ago my members of my family were surrounded by about six feet of water. It was, literally, lapping their floor boards. They live in South Lismore, and that’s where I grew up, too.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of the 1974 flood. I remember. It was Sunday night, I was 8 years old, and my dad and I went down the backyard, and knowing a flood was on the way, we went under the house to secure the washing machine in case it floated away, and next door, to secure our car on what we thought was higher ground. We went upstairs, watched the Wonderful World Of Disney, and by the time, the show was over, our house too was surrounded by water.
Before that, my mum and dad told me stories of the 1954 flood, of living in a low-set house, where the water reached the top of the windows, and they lived in the rooftop for four or five days. Mum, dad, my four sisters, my granny, and my uncle. This was the days before the State Emergency Service, when hundreds of people in the area died from drowning.
And now it’s happened again, as Lismore, and many other parts of Australia have either experienced major floods, or have succumbed to Cyclone Debbie. We start this week’s Editor’s Choice, with some of the experiences of the people of just one town, my home town, South Lismore, in these recordings from Samantha Turnbull from ABC Radio in Lismore.
I was on the radio last Thursday night, broadcasting to my home home town. As the team at ABC Radio in Lismore took a break “before the worst of it”, I filled in, remotely from Sydney. Because I know the area very well, and because I know what it’s like to live through a flood, I did the late shift from 11pm to 2am, when they took over again.
There was a moment of realisation for me, as I spoke to the bloke from the SES who told me how serious the problem was.
But in the midst of it all, there was also a moment of joy, as a former school teacher, Barbara Kearney called in to say “hello”.
Thankfully, things aren’t too bad for my family, aside from some buckled walls revealing some asbestos, and losing a little bit of furniture. I think it’s been a wake-up call, though, that they’re no longer the young people they once were, who could climb up into rooftops when the floodwaters come up.
The shop next doorThe cleanup
Like this:
LikeLoading…
Related
2 Comments
Wow, that’s a beaut shot of the river James. I like it a lot. You captured the light and reflection in the water. Also enjoyed the laneway art tour. Thank you.
Wow, that’s a beaut shot of the river James. I like it a lot. You captured the light and reflection in the water. Also enjoyed the laneway art tour. Thank you.
Thanks Rod. Another lovely day in Lismore, so hoping for some good river pics today.