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The bits
of stuff that fall in the cracks between Life, Music and outrageous
fortune. |
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| April |
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1) The shattered remains of a Empire stormtrooper
2) Sadie the cleaning lady is celebrated on DVD |
A night
at the VCA
30.4.09 - I got a surprise call from Anita Furey yesterday
arvo, as a result of which I said I'd pick her up and we'd go
the the VCA for what she said was some sort of opening that
evening. I got to her place fifteen minutes late, as I'd had
a spurt of energy with one of the BST tracks, (Sensible
Shoes), and time had got away. That, plus the gridlocked
traffic round the city, meant we got to the VCA a full thirty
minutes late. As we walked in there was an interview taking
place with a pair of twin girls whom Anita thought were being
a little too precious and oblique about their drawing, while
at the same time apparently quite happy to exploit their 'twin-ness'.
I couldn't really follow the discussion as I couldn't hear the
questions at all, and nor could I hear all the answers. This
was followed by another one-sided discussion with a couple who
were interested in pretending they were romantically involved
(!) and in doing telepathic drawing experiments. It sounded
very 1930s to me. Anita wan't happy with what was on show, and
after she'd said hullo to a couple of old friends, she suggested
we leave. So that's what we did. |
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Calm
is restored on the No. 70 tram to Wattle Park |
More
tram etiquette..
23.4.09 - In the piece directly below this,
(Tram etiquette part two.. or three..), I asked, somewhat
impotently, what is one to do (about the flagrant violation
of public transport by-laws)? Well, the answer is; do nothing
for however long it takes, because retribution is at hand.
When I got on the tram back from Camberwell this morning, the
gentleman in the black T-shirt (pic) was sitting cross-legged
on his seat. Now, I'm a bit of an advocate of this practice
- in my own space, at least. The chair/seat phenomenon that
we've taken for granted for centuries in the Western world is
a scourge - think of injuries incurred staring glassy-eyed at
your PC for hours and you'll get my drift. So, there I was,
wrestling with this conflict of the |
| greater public good vs personal
well-being, when a voice from somewhere adjacent to the malefactor
said gently, but firmly, 'Take your feet off the seat.' Which
is exactly what he did, promptly, and without complaint or any
display of defiance. I guessed that it was the older looking
bloke in civilian clobber sitting diagonally opposite him that
had issued the instruction - you can just see the old bloke
looming up behind our yoga-boy, which is where he moved to shortly
after the 'incident'. I suspect he's part of a new stealth strategy
by the tram company, because their over-zealous uniformed inspectors,
(whom I never saw, but about whom I read plenty of excited letters
to the editor), inflicted so much damage to their public relations.
Whatever - good stuff I say! |
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1)
Dick is resigned to the inevitability of another snap 2) Seems
perfectly clear to me, even if it looks like an alien |
3) Same
tram, and Ms Silver-Shoes needs to rest her plates.. |
Tram
etiquette, part two.. or three..
20.4.09
- Dick and I met in town last week and we tempted fate with
a second consecutive lunch at Intimo. While the Ashton
pinot was as good as we remembered, and we managed
to avoid being talked into an entrée, we rashly
opted for the platter of cheeses after our mains, which was
definitely a course too far. (Our judgement was clearly impaired
by the second glass of pinot and I wheezed curses for our intemperance
as I waddled home).
The tram thing: behaviour on public transport is generally unremarkable,
at least during the off-peak hours that I mostly travel, but
I still get miffed at the casual flouting of transport by-laws
by people of an age to know better - but what is one to do? |
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Where
the bloody hell have you been? |
I'm
home!
13.4.09 - I thought
I'd try and beat the system this time and travelled to and from
Tullamarine by Skybus, which I connected to via tram, so when
I trudged to the front door last night I was too whacked to
rummage around in my case for my regular set of keys and went
to get the spare key from the toilet out the back. Before I
got there I sensed this shape swoop over my head and saw these
enormous wings beating darkly and thought that maybe it was
my fruit bat paying a late visit, but eventually I was able
to make out that it was my very occasional friend the Tawny
Frogmouth that had alighted on top of the Hills Hoist and was
giving me the inquisitorial glare. (pic) When I get
a moment I'll tell you more on the Stop Press page. |
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What's
wrong Michael? You seem to be distracted.. |
Eddy
1.4.09 - I thought it about
time I got together with Ed Nimmervoll (pic) for a
chat, so I texted him the other day and we had the rendezvous
sorted in no time. Ironically I was wrestling with my phone
when he arrived - it was telling me repeatedly that it was 'not
in service', which I later discovered from Anthony at Telstra
was not an April Fool's joke and was curable with a simple re-boot.
Ed had his usual black coffee and I had an Italian hot chocolate,
which is nothing like the benign version I have most days, but
something akin to eating an entire chocolate mud cake with a
gun to your head. I found myself swimming in and out of the
conversation and was hallucinating by the time we left. I think
I even volunteered to pay the bill.. |
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