The bits of stuff that fall in the cracks between Life, Music and outrageous fortune.         March   Close this window to return to Mike Rudd & Bill Putt's Stop Press   1) The panoramic view from the Greco Restaurant on a steamy Melbourne lunchbreak with Dick 2) The view of a steamy Dick spotted at said restaurant Reflections on a lazy Tuesday lunch with Dick 18.3.08 - The warmest March night in Melbourne since 1940 ensured I was buggered before the day started, but then I remembered I'd had the foresight to book lunch with Dick, and so set off on a brisk walk to purchase my Senior's travel pass and tram it into the city. Dick proposed another short walk across the Yarra to a Greek restaurant he'd eaten at recently, which turned out to be the Greco Restaurant - not Greek, but close enough. (They did have moussaka on the menu). We consumed an undistinguished bottle of pinot and chatted amicably about my phone call to mum and the stark terror of my life in general, as you do. We finished with coffees, with and without caffeine, Dick went to a meeting and I drifted off home..   2) These two old buggers stepped in front of the camera A night on the town.. 15.3.08 - I'd been trapped at home sending out e-mails for most of the day in oppressive heat, so I decided to bite the bullet and follow my prompt on Outlook to go and see Anthony Morgan at the Greyhound in St Kilda. Anthony lives in Tassie these days, and it was only because I got a message from him on MySpace that I became aware he was still alive and active. Another point for MySpace I guess. Anyway, when I emerged I was pleasantly surprised to discover a mild southerly change had arrived and conditions on the street were quite cool, if a little sultry still. I haven't been to the Greyhound before, so I was a little flummoxed to find another band setting up in the main bar - until I discovered there was a commodious back room where Anthony was playing. I say 'playing', because these days he has a band supplementing his standup routine - Los Contitos, an unashamedly country outfit playing out Anthony's proclivity for sad country music. In fact, Anthony is pretty much over the standup biz and would much rather concentrate exclusively on the musical side, (that's according to Liz Reid, who photographed Spectrum way back when, and whom I would've photographed myself, but my battery ran out). Apart from anything else, it's a lonely business being a comic, and the lifestyle bloody near killed him - he claims that moving to Tassie actually saved his arse. A paltry crowd of twenty or so ensured he didn't get the generous feedback he's due, but we all enjoyed his monologue nonetheless, even if the man himself wasn't totally engaged. It had been a long night - I'd arrived at 8.30 and the show didn't get under way till nearly 10.00 - so I left after a couple of sad country songs from the band. Anthony's only forty seven, but we're in the same boat in many ways, and I'm not sure that this particular night out had been that good for my psyche. Ultimately though, I summed it up this way: we just have to do what makes us happy, and fuck the rest of the world...     back to the top