“I’m not sure I’d like to spend an evening over a few bottles of wine with him”, I joked to my friend, as we chatted over dinner, having seen Paul Capsis perform earlier in the night.. The musical universe he occupies is very sad. That said, I LOVE sad tunes, the melancholy, and so I’m probably just as sad in my musical tastes, and probably just as sad as someone to spend their time with.
Paul is a remarkable performer, in cabaret, theatre, and film. You might also know Paul from his performances in a range of movies, including “Head On” and “Carlotta” https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0135697/
A lot of people describe themselves as “fluid” these days, in terms of gender and sexuality, but as Paul commented at the show, “I’m not fluid, I’m a flood”. The last time I’d seen him perform was only a few years ago, but as Paul rightly noted a long time ago, a lot has happened since then.
Friday night’s performance, at “The Song Company” featured some of his favourite/influential music, from the works of Brecht/Weill to Elton John. Though a couple of years older than me, I connected strongly with the songs he chose. “Cabaret”, for example which Paul performed recently as the MC, has been strongly influential in my life.
The song by Elton John, “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word” (performed beautifully by Paul) is one of my all-time-favorite-songs due to its very honest lyric. There were moments, as we listened to Paul when I felt so incredibly sad. The lyrics of the songs chosen were so beautiful. And the minor tone. I love a minor tone! There were also moments of comedy and intrigue. For example, the lyrics for “Mack The Knife” was updated to include contemporary Sydney. Who was the rapist and the misogynist Paul referred to in the updated lyrics?
As my friend and I chatted over dinner, we reflected on the melancholy in his work. Dinner, by the way, was at Lavana Tapas which we both highly recommend.
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.
I think it’s true to say that, at work, I have a bit of a split personality. One minute I’m the serious manager, the next minute I’m the go-to-guy for all things Swedish and pop culture, generally.
I guess that’s why I got an email from Libbi Gorr the other day. Libbi, you would know from her previous life as Elle McFeast, though these days she’s the weekends presenter on 774 ABC Melbourne. She has a regular spot, “Sunday Song” where someone comes on, does a bit of a monologue, and chooses a song. This week, with Eurovision happening tonight, she asked me, so this is what I wrote and chose, and which went to air this morning on Melbourne radio.
Hello my name is James O’Brien, in my day job is work for ABC Local Radio as a manager, specifically in the areas of digital radio and talent development. And this morning, it’s my pleasure to choose for you “Your Sunday Song”. You see, outside of work, I’m a Swedophile. I love Swedish culture, and especially Swedish pop music. Of course it all began with ABBA, but years later I’ve discovered a whole world of other great music from Sweden, all of which helps explain why Sweden’s now the number three pop nation in the world after England and America.
Earlier this morning, the Eurovision song contest was held in Europe, and Sweden was going into the contest as favourite. Right now I’m in a media blackout. I won’t turn on the radio or the tv, or go online, until tonight’s delayed broadcast. I’m hoping they’ve won, as it means Stockholm will host next year’s contest.
This week, I’ve also been working on a radio special which goes to air this afternoon from 3 o’clock on 774 abc Melbourne on digital radio and streaming online. The show’s host is Sue Clark who’s even more of a Eurovision tragic than I am, though her favourite country is Malta. I hope you’ll tune in to hear interviews from Rolf Harris, Bucks Fizz, Eve from the New Seekers, and Johnny Logan, the most successful Eurovision performer who comes originally from Frankston.
But behind the glitz and glamour, there’s a much bigger story of the oil-rich country of Azerbaijan, which is hosting this year’s contest. Azerbaijan is a former Soviet Republic which is now only just starting to “open up”. Nonetheless, there are many human rights issues, and it seems a lot of people may have stayed away from attending because of that.
In some ways, the story of eurovision is the story of modern day Europe, and that’s why the former eastern block countries do so well these days. Before the wall came down they had their own contest, separate from Eurovision. And instead of tele-voting, they used to flick the light switches on and off to monitor power use, and to find out who the winner was. It’s a great story.
But getting back to favourite songs from Eurovision, of course, I’ve had to choose Sweden and the singer Loreen. If she’s won it’ll be history making, as she’ll be the first woman of colour to win the contest in its 56-year history. Gosh I hope she’s won, but please don’t tell me until tonight.
My Sunday song though is sweden’s entry from two years ago. That year i travelled to Sweden for the finals and a great song was chosen. Unfortunately it sunk with out a trace at Euroision. But it’s still a great song, and I hope you like it…
Getting anywhere in Sydney has been a test of patience lately, but today in particular, the city felt like an impossible challenge. With the city rail undergoing work and the light rail out of action, the commute became such an ordeal that I decided to steer clear of the centre entirely, opting for buses or staying put whenever I could. It was such a contrast to step into the local pool a little later. Perhaps it was the timing of the school holidays, but the pool was blissfully empty today, a far cry from the usual crowds.
I have been going to this pool for as long as I have lived in Sydney, but my connection to it has deepened over the last few years as I have started going for hydrotherapy. Not official class, it is hydrotherapy in a personal sense; my physiotherapist provides me with exercises to build body strength, a routine I now commit to at least once a week, sometimes twice depending on what my schedule allows. I truly love the time I spend there.
Cook & Phillip Pool, Sydney
I must admit, I was quite apprehensive about returning to the water after losing my lower right leg. The first two times I went back, I was terrified that I might drown, even though, in truth, I was probably just very weak at the time.
Although I had fond memories of learning to swim at the local pool in Lismore during primary school—I still have a certificate for 50 or 100 metres somewhere—I have never been the kind of swimmer who enjoys doing laps. I simply love going to the pool to enjoy the water, to relax, and to be present.
As part of my Limb Shift podcast, I’ve spoken to quite a few people about the water and how important it is for both relaxation and rehabilitation, but two in particular spring to mind.
Elizabeth Wright, a colleague and Paralympic medal-winning swimmer, talked about how much she loved the pool from a very early age and the weightlessness it gave her, noting, “In water, I feel freedom because the water supports my body so much”.
Another person I spoke to, Mick O’Dowd, is a quad amputee who talked about the role of the pool in his rehabilitation, describing how he progressed from relying on flotation devices to swimming laps. He emphasised that the pool became a true sanctuary for him, explaining, “It felt great to feel weightless”.
My own journey with the pool is currently running parallel to the physical adjustments I am making in my daily life. For the last six months, I have been having issues with my prosthetic not fitting over my stump as well as it used to, which has meant relying on extra thick socks just to keep it from falling off. I recently received NDIS approval for a new leg, and a couple of weeks ago, I went in for a fitting that involved the old-fashioned process of using plaster of Paris.
On Wednesday, I went back to the hospital to try on the new test socket to see if it feels right, and I have been wearing it this week to gauge how it performs. My prosthetist advised that I can wear this one with just a thin sock, and so far, it seems to be going well, though I have another appointment this coming Wednesday to assess my progress.
I am currently in the process of getting a new prosthetic, as my previous one no longer fits properly. A couple of weeks ago, I had a plaster cast taken of my residual limb to ensure a precise fit. In this pic, I’m not getting weighed, but seeing how well balanced things are.
While I do have a long-term goal to get back into the water and actually swim some laps, I am happy to take my time. I have NDIS approval to invest in some swimming classes, but it is important to me that I work with someone who is experienced, someone who can supervise me and collaborate with my physiotherapist to ensure I am doing everything safely. For the next twelve months, that is the plan.
In the meantime, I am content to just go to the pool, enjoy the water, and find that sense of quiet and relaxation that has been so hard to come by in the city today. It is a simple joy, but one that feels more necessary than ever.
“These are the reason I haven’t worn a watch in about twenty years”, I told Sue, as we wandered around the ABC Studio at Old Parliament House, now the “Museum Of Australian Democracy”.
I was referring to something commonly known as a “bulk eraser”, though they probably had a more formal name. In the days before extensive digital storage, audio (and video) tape was commonly re-used. That’s part of the reason why many episodes of classic radio and television programs no longer exist.
“You must have it in the archives somewhere?” is a sentence I commonly here. “No”, I have to tell people, adding, “We never kept it”. We couldn’t afford to keep everything, and in a very practical way, there was never enough room to store it.
A big part of my early career involved recording things, putting them to air, and then recording over that item the very next day. To speed up the process you used a “bulk eraser” which, in effect, was a big magnet which erased the magnetic tape, allowing it to be freshly used.
One of the side effects of having a “big magnet” was that it played havoc with analogue watches. So, you either a) removed your watch while you used it; b) “did a dance” which involved keeping your watch hand as far away from the eraser as possible or c) stopped wearing a watch. I stopped wearing a watch, and in the years since, the mobile phone, of course, has replaced the watch anyway.
Bulk eraser at the ABC Studio at Old Parliament House
I think it was the first time I’ve been to the old ABC Studio at Old Parliament House in Canberra. The move to the new parliament house occured before I joined the ABC. And although I’ve visited Old Parliament House a few times, I don’t ever recall seeing that part of the museum before. It was fascinating to see the video showing at the museum of people like a very young Barrie Cassidy reporting from the studio there.
“It’s so much smaller than the new parliament house”, I said to Sue as we wandered around. There was an exhibition of political cartoons which we enjoyed very much, as well as an exhibition about press freedom which was also very good.
And of course, there were the chambers themselves.
House of Representatives at Old Parliament House, CanberraLocated outside Old Parliament House is the Aboriginal Tent Embassy, and the wonderful “Sovereignty” sign
Our visit to Canberra was a brief one : less than twenty-four hours. I was really keen to catch up with a colleague who was recently made redundant, and a school friend that both Sue and I had known from Lismore. Awesome catchups. It was also part of our return to Sydney.
As we had both extensive knowledge of Canberra (Sue had lived there for three or four years, and I have visited extensively over many years), we struggled to think of what else we might do.
We both love the National Portrait Gallery, and so we visited there.
National Portrait GalleryNational Portrait Gallery
“I’d like to visit the War Memorial”, Sue said, noting that despite having lived in Canberra, she’d never actually visited it before. The last time I visited was in 2014. https://thelimbshift.com/2014/08/roll-of-honour/
Photograph taken by Kerry Alchin Order reference: PAIU2014/152.28 Contact: esales@awm.gov.au
In 2013 and 2014 (and later), I managed a project for the ABC (in conjunction with the Australian War Memorial) which saw school children from all over the country come into ABC studios to record the names of those who appear on the Roll Of Honour. Honestly, it’s one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever done, as the children learned about the history of the names they were due to recite, how to pronounce them, and often travelled long distances to record them.
I was so touched the names were still being recited as we walked along the Roll Of Honour.
Roll Of Honour at the Australian War Memorial
The Australian War Memorial is truly remarkable. In fact, it’s almost overwhelming. After about an hour of walking around, we realised we’d only touched the surface, had only just completed the area concentrating on World War I.
Australian War Memorial
Due to time restraints, we spent less time on the following conflicts which is a shame. “You could spend two or three days here,” I said to Sue.
One of the highlights for me of the Australian War Memorial was the current exhibition which looks at tattoos, and their significance for service men and women, particularly since the Gulf and Afghan Wars.
And with that, we went to the petrol station, filled up, grabbed some chocolates, and headed back home.
“That’s where our house was.”, I told Michelle, pointing to the Liberty Service Station which now occupies the block of 21 Kyogle Street, South Lismore. The house is no longer there. In 1970, to make way for a weigh-bridge in Kyogle Street, the house was relocated to 195 Casino Street, South Lismore.
Then and now.House moved from 21 Kyogle St, South Lismore to 195 Casino St, South Lismore
Though I don’t recall the exact conversations of the time (I was four years old), I’m pretty sure mum and dad were excited about the prospect of raising the house out of the flood zone. During the 1954 flood, they lived in the rooftop of the low-set house, while the floodwaters swirled below. Casino Street still flooded in 1974, but at least it was on higher ground and stilts, and floodwater didn’t actually enter the house itself.
A few other houses also moved in the following years, the Banana Growers Federation facility across the road closed, and the trains no longer come through. Also, I found out today the former Broom Factory in Engine Street is now home to a multiple-occupancy – “Hippies live there”, Michelle told me.
We were on our way to visit a piece of history that’s still around, the old Hensley Brothers railway workshed on Engine Street. Michelle’s father, Jack worked there as a mechanic from 1968 to 1982.
As a child, I would often go with him to work on a Saturday morning. “The floors were all dirt back then?:, I asked Jack today, hoping he would affirm my childhood memory. “Yes, there was a bit of concrete, but not much”, he told me. “Out the back”, he told us, “there were tracks where the trains turned around”.
While Michelle and I enjoyed the beers, Jack told us stories of people he worked with and looked around the shed with an interested eye to see how much of the original structure remained. “That’s where they did the paperwork”, he told us about the room next to where we were sitting.
“Two Mates Brewery” does a range of craft beers, though probably some of these are a little exotic for Jack’s taste. “I’ll stick with a lager”, he told us, while Michelle and I tried some of the pale ales, the ciders, and the ginger beer.
When we were there earlier today there were maybe 60-80 people reclining on comfortable old furniture and beer barrels, enjoying the ambience, and enjoying the beers. There were even some people with their kids, as there’s a playground out the back.
With those memories of earlier days, Michelle, Jack and I all agreed they’d done a really good job on the renovation. “I might have my fiftieth here”, Michelle said.
“I hope they’ve got air conditioning”, Jack joked, “because it gets bloody hot in summer” remembering his days as a mechanic in the large shed.
Another recently discovered family photograph. This was taken at 21 Kyogle Street on the day of Jack and Pat’s wedding (1968), which was undoubtedly a sign of things to come.
“I didn’t know there was a caravan park in Byron”, one of the nearby passengers on the bus yelled out. To be honest, I was thinking the same, as all you read about in the papers these days is million dollar homes and celebrities. “No, it’s a RESORT”, the bus driver replied to the amusement of the passengers. “It looks like a caravan park to me”. I thought to myself.
The bus from Lismore to Byron takes about fifty-minutes and is only $5.90 for a full adult fare. That’s only slightly longer than the trip by car, and at only a fraction of the price. Bargain! The only downside was the delays due to roadworks.
We stopped three times along the way. But if you, like me, grew up in this area, you would know that it’s always been that way.
It’s probably a decade (maybe more) since I last visited Byron. I don’t exactly remember when it was, but I remember it was a group of friends from school. We all live “away”, and we thought it would be fun to go back and see what all the fuss was about.
When we were growing up in the 70s and 80s, Byron was a fairly sleepy little place. I remember a primary school visit during the 70s when much of the write-up we did revolved around the goats on the hill near the lighthouse and whaling.
Whaling occured at Byron from the mid 50s to the mid 60s. A family member, Jack remembers sitting on the beach at Byron and seeing the large carcases on the beach. “God, they stank”, he has often remembered.
Byron is a much different place, now. The last time we visited it was quite busy, and I remember us thinking it was a bit like Bondi. “North Bondi with crystals” is how a friend described it, and she should know, as she lives at North Bondi.
But it was a Tuesday, and it was out of the peak tourist season, so I decided it would be good to catch the bus to Byron for the day, to see what it was like when it wasn’t at the tourist season peak. And you know what? It was pretty good. Not exactly the over-populated tourist town I was expecting, though not exactly old style Byron either.
Live music at the beach at Byron.
The first place I called into was the Beach Hotel. I grabbed a spot near the entrance, and so I was able to have a view of the beach, and keep an eye on the people coming in for lunch. There were a lot of retired people who, by the sounds of the men at the nearby table, spent a lot of time talking about their illnesses. There were a few family groups. There were tradies. There were “matching gays” (ie gay men dressed identically). There were no celebrities in sight.
From there, I caught an Uber to the lighthouse. “There used to be goats up here”, I said to a nearby couple enjoying the view. “And we used to be able to go into the lighthouse”, I added. The lighthouse itself was closed, which may be the norm, or maybe they were just closed for the day.
Byron Bay Lighthouse.Cape Byron is Australia’s most easterly mainland point.Coastal walk at Cape ByronLooking down on the rocks from the coastal walk down from Byron Lighthouse.
I then took the coast walk down to Wategoes Beach, the beach where, as a child, we used to regularly visit.
There’s lots of multi-million dollar houses at Wategoes, these days, including a fairly massive one under construction.
As I wandered down the coastal walk I overheard two women have what I thought was the most “Byron” conversation EVER, as one of them said, “Yes, I’ve been in the cryo, but never a floation tank”. Don’t worry if you don’t know what cryo is, because I had to look it up too. “Cryotherapy is the use of extreme cold to freeze and remove abnormal tissue. Doctors use it to treat many skin conditions (including warts and skin tags) and some cancers, including prostate, cervical and liver cancer. This treatment is also called cryoablation”
Eventually, I found myself at Belongil, a really beautiful beach that goes on for several kilometres. I walked and swam. I swam and walked. Eventually, I realised I’d probably walked too far to return back to Byron, and so I kept going until I found the next spot to get off at.
Looking north from Byron Bay, just one other person on the beach.
“That’s an interesting beach you found yourself at”, a colleague who lives nearby said to me yesterday. Yes, indeed, it was. The next stop up the coast was Tyalgum Reserve, which is a “clothing optional beach”. There weren’t a lot of people around, and so it was almost as if I had the beach to myself. Between Byron and Tyalgum, I swear I passed maybe a dozen people in total. It was bliss. And when I got to Tyalgum, I looked around thought to myself, “what the hey…”
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He is wonderful as a singer and an actor. It is a long time since I have seen his photo and he has aged a bit. Of course I haven’t. I tried to see him once in Melbourne but his shows booked out early. Can he still hit the really high notes?
He is wonderful as a singer and an actor. It is a long time since I have seen his photo and he has aged a bit. Of course I haven’t. I tried to see him once in Melbourne but his shows booked out early. Can he still hit the really high notes?
Maybe not as high as previously, but he makes up for it with emotion and interpretation.