Chris was 41 on Thursday - bloody hell! (see ASR)

Mike's Pith & Wind - Tramming
I did my movie thing again in town today. (See last month’s P&W) I’d decided to take the van in rather than use public transport because I had to get to Radio Parts, which has moved from Malvern toWest Melbourne since I last went there. (Bill’s mic stand boom arm died at the Seaford RSL gig the other night).
I picked up two replacement arms in the event, thinking that if one goes the other can’t be too far behind, and was heading downtown to meet up with Dick for a spot of something when I realised that it was all going to take too long and I may as well have come in by various modes of public transport after all. Even with all the changing of trams and/or trains it actually would’ve been quicker and my mood certainly would’ve been calmer. I rang Dick for the third time in fifteen minutes and cancelled lunch, or whatever it was going to be, and started on my way back to Camberwell.
I stopped at the lights at the intersection of Latrobe and William streets and wound down my window. The air was hot and wind was blustering fitfully between the rearing concrete and glass, picking up invisible dust to sandblast the eyeballs of unsuspecting women as they picked and clicked their way across the road while trying to hold down their mischievous skirts and not lose a heel in the tram tracks. A curly-headed bloke sneezed as he crossed in front of me, mobile pressed to his ear. And it was then I realised I had shifted subtly into another dimension – my own movie, in fact - and had somehow managed to disconnect from my.. read more

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Dick's Toolbox - Who am I?
It is the first day of the month, 7.20 a.m. and I am traveling on the train wondering if I am living in some particular hell where I am condemned to be surrounded by unattractive people. Sitting beside me, pinning me against the carriage window, is a peroxided person who must be as wide as she is high, redolent cigarettes and cheap perfume.
Opposite sits an androgynous, though possibly female, student, wearing gray on black on more gray with greasy dark hair complementing the large mole on her chin. She wears headphones the size of Alaskan ear-muffs from which still escape the chigga-chugga chigga-chugga of some drug crazed American hip-hop artist with a criminal record longer than the CD. I suspect that blood is trickling from her ears and filling the cups of the headphones.
Reflected in the window I see a.. read more