Community

This is a story from our local community which makes me feel good to be alive and refreshes my deeply buried faith in the goodness of human beings. [Stop making gagging noises, I'm being serious here.] I may or may not have shed a tear reading this, believe what you like.

A Letter from Youngchul Ji

The Big O

So the day after Dance Fever, the second last day of school, I finished work early to catch a bus into town to meet my sister...

...so we could go see Oprah!

You know Oprah? The person all the hysteria has been about.

I was super excited to be going. I'm no huge fan of her's but she is a cultural phenomenon and I love me one of those. It was amazing to be part of the "Oprah in Australia" behemoth.

The reality was somewhat disappointing. I don't know if I was just worn out and drained from a few weeks of constant crazy. I don't know what it was but I just couldn't feel the vibe. I couldn't get into the screaming and excitement and the loosing my mind which was going on all around me.

I think it was a combination of things. The long wait before her royalness actually appeared. The fake clapping, cheering and laughing that we were coached to perform for the audio recording prior to the actual taping. The hyper-excitement of the others in the audience; instead of being contagious just made me annoyed and pushed me in the opposite direction.

We were lucky to get seats in the second row so we were up close and personal. For me the lowlights of the event were the interviews with Bono (O: "why did you choose Jay-Z to support you on your tour"; B: "...he's amazing... he's bringing rap to the world [we don't want it, take it back where it came from]... he's so brave [ah, no he's not, fuck off]) and Olivia Newton-John. All the "interviews" - and I use the word very loosely - were banal to the max; five minutes of utter tripe ("you're so wonderful"... "no, you're just amazing"). Give me a break... and a bucket while you're at it.

The highlights were Hugh Jackman hitting the lighting rig right above our heads. Not that I wish that gorgeous man any harm (well I did briefly after seeing Wolverine, oi vey) but it was the only mildly interesting and unscripted thing that happened all day. Despite myself I also semi-enjoyed the Nicole Kidman/Keith Urban interview, not because it provided any earth shattering insights into, well, anything. But it did give a glimpse of Nicole as a real woman, a nervous talker, a clutz; despite her airbrushed exterior I suspect lurking underneath all that bullshit facade is actually a funny, un-co kind of chick who would be fun to hang out with.

As corny as the finale actually was I did get a thrill out of it. Even a stone hearted cow like me can't help but be moved by the Australian Children's Choir singing I Still Call Australia Home while a gigantic Oz flag is unfurled above our heads.

Oprah herself seemed warm and genuine and fun. While the scripted and produced parts of the show were flat and about as appetising as the leftover bits of WeetBix stuck on the bottom of the bowl and left in the sink all day, the in-between bits showed a little of what she is all about. Unfortunately there just weren't enough of those bits for me and way too many of the other ones.

Of course the diamond necklace was the final sweetner and it was somewhat disappointing to find out we would be leaving with only a card giving us all the details for how to register to receive it, rather than with the real thing in our hot, sweaty little hands. Despite myself I am excited to be getting it and I won't be selling it on Ebay even though Big Jay thinks that would be a great idea. I was part of a tiny big moment in popular culture history and my diamond O will remind me of that. When the grandkiddies come to visit me in Shady Pines I'll get it out and say "Did I ever tell you about the day I went to see Oprah?".

The Crazy continues...

In the week following M's dance concert we had my work Christmas party, the next day M had two parties to attend and W had a friend over to play. We then rolled into the week with the school presentation day, followed by the day we left for the Hunter Valley for a weekend away which included A Day on the Green.

These two weeks featured an overlay of extra crazy for me because I was helping to organise the Year 6 Farewell at our school (the traditional job of Year 5 parents). This was an interesting job which included meetings, countless emails, a certain amount of frustration in dealing with the school beaurocracy, many hours spent mucking about with the all important individualised place mats, culminating with a full day of decorating the hired hall for the big night (we had chosen the surprise "HORROR" theme and while I have absolutely no imagination and/or decorating talent in this regard the ladies who were in charge of this job did a mind blowing job and it came together brilliantly).

The day of the Farewell function (and thus the big decorating day) was the Friday we left for the Hunter so it was a matter of working all day at the hall, picking up the kids from school, Big Jay from work and heading straight up to Broke where our accommodation was located. It was just gorgeous to roll up to this dated, though lovely, house surrounded by olive trees and rolling hills, meet our friends and take a breath. I so needed that weekend.

We were there for the Blondie and The Pretenders Day on the Green and it was good, so good. You don't go to the Days on the Green for the sound quality; you go for the atmosphere... the vibe, man. Despite half of Australia being under water Bimbadgen Estate was a haven of perfect outdoor concert weather. Not too hot, not too cold, a light breeze. Perfect.

We camped out in a good spot, spread out our array of snacks and enjoyed a few hours of people watching before the bands. The Pretenders were first and to summarise Chrissie Hynde still has "it"; the original rock chick. I love seeing a woman of advancing years looking like a real woman. She's had a full life and it shows on her face, it's so real and sexy. Not a frozen, plastic face masking reality, erasing history. It was funny to think that the new band members were not even born when I was first listening to Brass In Pocket.

Then Blondie. We saw them a number of years ago at the State Theatre and that was a wonderful, memorable night. This time I have to say they were somewhat "off". Not sure how to put my finger on the problem. The sound just not so good, the timing not right, the vibe a little low. Whatever the issue it was all worth it for the amazing version of David Bowie's Heroes. Wow! Nevertheless I would probably give a limb to hear them do Tear Her To Shreds, a pleasure I will unlikely witness in this lifetime.

[Note to drunk dickheads at outdoor concerts: Please watch out for sleeping children on picnic blankets. They don't tend to like being stepped on. Sleeping children or not, don't step in the middle of people's picnic blankets, if you're not squishing a child you're likely to be squishing a nice piece of brie.]

So where was I? The Monday after A Day on the Green featured the U2 concert for Big Jay (better him than me!). He went early with our friend B and lined up for a special place in the mosh pit resulting in a bunch of great photos (unfortunately they were of U2) like this one:


























That same evening Will was dancing in Dance Fever with all the kids from Years 3, 4, 5 and 6. Dance Fever is a ballroom dancing style competition for primary schools. His school has been involved for the past few years and it is great fun. The kids get to dress up and have a go at some simple dance routines. For the first time Will and his partner made it into the finals of the Cha Cha which was a great thrill for me, not so exciting for him.

Another late night in a string of late nights. The kids were really hitting the wall by now. Luckily the crazy was over for them. But not for me...

Hallway Sex

Feeling silly so found this highly amusing (Number 4 is my personal favourite).

Five types of sex:

1) The first is Smurf Sex. This happens during the honeymoon period; you both keep doing it until you're blue in the face.

2) The second is Kitchen Sex. This is at the beginning of the marriage; you'll have sex anywhere, anytime, even in the kitchen.

3) The third kind is Bedroom Sex. You've calmed down a bit, perhaps have kids, so you gotta do it in the bedroom.

4) The fourth kind is Hallway Sex. This is the phase in which you pass each other in the hallway and say, "Screw you!"

5) There is also a fifth kind of sex: Courtroom Sex. This is when you get divorced and your wife screws you in front of everyone in the courtroom.

Giggle...

Let's start at the start

I like to think of the official start of the Crazy as the Tuesday night of Marianna's dance concert (but it was probably earlier than that, like the weekend we went to see True West, which was also the weekend of our Christmas adoptive families picnic - which ended up at our house because of rain).

Marianna's dance concert was on a Tuesday night which meant she had to be taken out of school early and delivered backstage to NIDA for three hours of rehearsal prior to the evening's show. Children's dance concerts are a peculiar event. The rehearsal looks like bedlam but somehow the show comes together into something resembling an evening of seemless entertainment.

Little Miss M was in three seperate dances and the finale, which meant three costumes and costume changes. Luckily the parents were only responsible for the first costume and hair and make up, everything else was up to the teachers (who must certainly wonder on concert night whether there are easier ways of making a living, for example bomb disposal expert in Afganistan).

Anyway, the evening was really fun and culminated in Princess Attitude being awarded a trophy, which was lovely. But we didn't get home until after 11 and it was all downhill from there. Late nights and school mornings are not a great combination and from that evening we rolled into two weeks of tired, cranky children and tired, cranky parents. Oh, the joy!

Remember me?

I don't blame you if you don't. I have been a bad, bad little blogger of late.

I am sorry about that and I'm afraid I won't be repenting right now. It's the first day of the school holidays and I'm recovering from a few weeks which have left me seriously dazed and confused (or even more, much more, than usual). The kidlets and I are off to a playdate shortly and I'm trying to shuffle the crap around the living room so it doesn't resemble the set of Stepford and Sons. The aforementioned kidlets are laying in my bed watching the Jerry Lewis version of The Nutty Professor; they too are recovering.

I need to update you on the craziness which has been my life lately and especially about Oprah. So stay tuned, catch up blogs coming up very soon.

In the meantime a little giggle from the Climate Change Fiasco file - Arctic Meltdown?

Human anatomy

Last night when we were driving home from my sister's birthday dinner Will asked me:

"Mum, do ladies have tentacles in their vaginas?"

After I had stopped giggling and removed the mental image from my mind I said: "Do you mean 'testicles'?"

"Oh yeah, that's what I mean - 'testicles'".

"Um, no they don't. But that's a very interesting question."

Things that make you say "hhhmmmm?"

Absent

I have been reluctantly absent from this here blog for the last week or so because my services have been required elsewhere. In other words I've just had too much bloody stuff to do. My brain is full of blogging thoughts but I just haven't had time to sit and actually write.

It's been a long, good and draining week. Right now, as I write on this fine Sunday evening, I am totally exhausted. I won't bore you with the details; some of you have already suffered through them, listening to my whining in person. The rest may have a reprive.

Anyway, the finish line, signified by the end of Term 4, is in sight. There is mostly fun stuff to look forward to now.

Next weekend we are Day on the Green-ing it in the Hunter Valley, where we'll enjoy two nights with our dear friends the G's and Blondie and The Pretenders under the stars on Saturday night. If the rain stays away... and that's a very big IF... it should be a gorgeous weekend.

As I said I have lots of thoughts buzzing around my void-like brain but I'm seriously too tired to write anything meaningful and/or coherent. So I'll just go and watch the freaks on Sixty Minutes... I love a good freak, don't you? I'm talking serious freaks, not the day to day kind.

Life Happens

Driving home yesterday I was listening to an interview with the fantastic Steve Biddulph who mainly writes about raising boys and manhood. He may well be a tree hugging hippie and I may disagree with him in some areas but he generally makes a lot of sense to me on many issues.

Yesterday he was talking about his new book The New Manhood. The thing that jumped out to me the most is he spoke about the five things that are most important to remember in life and how most cultures, at least previous ones, focussed on these when raising children. The four I remember are: 1) People die 2) Bad things happen 3) We can't control things 4) Life is hard.

He talked about how these days we seem to bring up children with beliefs that are totally opposite to these life truths. He is so right.

We are a society and a culture of deniers. We believe that modern medicine can "fix" anything and when it can't we're both surprised and disappointed. We think we can control everything that happens to us and are surprised, frustrated and disappointed when we can't.

I was reading a blog this morning and F was writing about a friend of hers who is dying of cancer at the age of 37, leaving a husband and two small children. A terrible situation. One of the comments was that it's a reminder that we should be vigilant about getting things checked, medically speaking. So true and yet so not. We live in a bubble where everyday we are told that we need to exercise, eat right, meditate, avoid stress, get medical check ups - all to "guarantee" our good health and long term survival. Sure some or all of these things can make for a good quality life; but you know what, sometimes people just die or get sick and then die. And there is almost nothing we can do to prevent it in any real terms.

It's funny how in my family I can't even talk about my wishes for my funeral, including my already created funeral playlist, because I get shushed. Talking about death is bad luck, it's like asking it in. But I don't think that way. We need to talk about death; be aware of it, be comfortable with it, be prepared for it. Death is not a punishment; it's a fact of life. From the moment we are created, nothing more than a fertilised egg splitting into cells, we start our journey towards death. Nothing is more certain. Yet we are more scared of dealing with it than with our parent's sex lives.

It's easier to go with the flow. But I want to make a conscious effort to talk to my children a little more about the realities of life. I don't know how to find the words, but I really want to try. It's not a matter of fitting it into normal daily conversation: "Where's your lunch box? By the way, do you know that mummy is going to die one day and that you are too... what do you think about that?". I can understand why we shy away from life's difficult conversations but I want to find the mental strength to introduce these topics so that my children do not grow up fearing this spectre and that they do not grow up thinking when bad things happen in life that everything will fall apart.

Life is ups and downs, good times and sad times and difficult times. But most people will get through most things, especially if they have family and friends for love and support.

The Outsiders

We watched The Outsiders last night. What an awesome film. A FIVE STAR CLASSIC!

Let's put aside the cast, made up of the who's who of '80s teen heart throbs (though how sweet was Rob Lowe as Sodapop Curtis? almost too pretty to be a boy - did I ever tell you about the time my friend M and I went in the live audience of the midday Ray Martin Show because Rob Lowe was going to be a guest... you know, when he was still sweet, before he came out as a sex addict - my god, he was good enough to eat, literally not figuratively).

Any old how, this movie is above and beyond just the cast, who are wonderful, despite their heart throb status. Seeing a young gorgeous Patrick Swayze made me a little teary.

The simple story, with a simple moral, is beautifully written, acted and directed. Just enough of everything and not too much of anything. These days there is hardly ever just the right amount; it's all either way over the top too much or annoyingly minimalist not enough.

So to end I'll just say, whether you're a greaser or a soc, be kind, be nice, love one another and stay gold.

The Loved Ones

Finally saw The Loved Ones on Saturday night. Just me and Big Jay... in the whole cinema. I'm hoping it's because we went to a 4:15 pm session on a Saturday afternoon and it's kind of a 9:00 pm session sort of film.

I loved it. Really, really loved it. It was just the right balance of horror and humour, with a good script, good acting and just enough gore and horror film dramatic tension. I was flinching and laughing and cheering in almost equal measure which was so satisfying.

Best of all it was just the right length, one and a half hours. Perfect. So many film lately just drag on and on, having little to say, just bloated on their own self importance. No! The Loved Ones says what it wants to say and then it ends.

However, if anything lets it down is the end. The very end. The second last scene is great; I was laughing and cheering. It should have been the end. But then it goes on for one scene too many. The piss weak scene. Sorry but it was.

Unmasked

Last night, Marianna was laying in our bed and we were both dozing off after a fun but tiring weekend. Suddenly she said to me "mum, you are like a pretend human". I was so stunned I had to ask her to repeat what she'd said. Then I just stared at her in amazement. She couldn't explain herself when I asked what she meant.

How does she know I'm just pretending to be a human? The scientists on my planet assured me this human disguise was 100% natural and would never be detected. Fools.

It's sort of funny but somehow too close to the bone.

Under the weather

Isn't that a funny saying? But so apt today. I'm feeling unwell, a yucky head cold which means my nose is running like a tap, my throat is aching and my head is throbing.

Last night we were literally under the weather as we watched, and listened to, the most magnificent storm roll over Sydney. Is anything nicer than being cosy inside your home, your children sleeping in their warm beds, while a huge, loud storm plays out in all it's glory outside your windows and above your head? Bliss.

It's been a big week and weekend, probably the biggest of the year in terms of physical workload. I enjoyed it but I'm glad it's over.

Saturday was my dad's 70th birthday party which we held at our home. Just a small get together (dad's not the most social person on earth), finger food and drinks on our deck. This involved lots of shopping and cleaning (may I take a moment to thank my wonderful hubby Big Jay who rolls up his sleeves and helps out big time during these stressful times when I'm running around like a headless chicken on crack) and a great day of food preparation with my MIL, my sister J and her friend R (who had flown in from Ireland only two days before). There's something gorgeous and old school (damn you Cake Boss, I can't get that phrase out of my mind!) about a group of women hanging out in the kitchen, preparing food, talking, laughing.

Sunday was the kids' school fete which was bigger and better than ever after being cancelled last year because of the BER (may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits JGill). I was in charge of the cupcake and gingerbread man decorating stall and because I had only ever seen it done once (at a chocolate festival I attended in Melbourne last year) and because I had no idea how many kids we would get through I over ordered big time and spent lots of time worrying about whether we'd have enough icing, smarties, serviettes...

The day was fun and my kids certainly had a ball but our stall was on the quiet side and we had lots and lots of uniced cupcakes and gingerbread people leftover. So after getting home absolutely exhausted on Sunday evening I sat up and iced about 50 cupcakes to take to the canteen on Monday (those cupcakes might as well get used up and I have never met a kid who doesn't love a cupcake). At least I got to watch the last two episodes of True Blood while I was icing away and all I can say is Alan Ball you are a wicked man, why do you keep us hanging like this at the end of each season.

I barely got any sleep on Sunday night, having gone to bed very late (I couldn't stop myself watching My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, which was rather interesting reality tv) and then woke up on Monday with this head cold. Took a lot of effort to get through the day at work without collapsing face first onto my keyboard.

Then last night Marianna and I decorated about 50 or so gingerbread folk to take to the canteen today... And then, because a martyr's work is never done, I sat up and finished cutting out, addressing and packaging up the invitations for the Year 6 farewell (which I am co-ordinating, being a Year 5 class mum this year).

I have woken up this morning feeling like someone has used my head for a ball during a particularly energetic AFL grand final. I suspect I'm in the final half of my 48 hour cold but I'm not at my best and would give almost anything to get back into bed with my Kindle and finish The Mermaids Singing which strangely seems to be a book I can't quite get into.

Despite all that whining I do feel a great sense of achievement and also relief. I am definitely on the downward slide of the work mountain which builds up at this time of the year. While there is still lots to do between now and the big day on the non-denominational festive season calendar a huge part of the pressure has now lifted.

So onwards we march... my personal little reward is going to be seeing The Loved Ones next Saturday. What an awesome little horror movie that is promising to be. This blog is about nothing if not about tangents.

This funny feeling

It feels strange not to have to write every day. It was certainly a challenge to write something each day for Rocktober (though I did cheat once or twice by writing more than one installment on a single day). I enjoyed it but it did weigh on my mind and at times I would go blank, not being able think of a single song worth writing about. Other days I would be driving along (driving seems to be the time I am most able to think) when 10 great songs would pop into my mind.

This is the time of the year - late October/early November - when I feel like I'm being sucked into the path of an oncoming freight train. There is so much going on with school commitments (being a class mum I'm involved with the school fete and the year 6 farewell function plus there are the events which must be attended like Dance Fever and the school presentation day), work end of year stuff (like organising the Christmas party and ordering gifts for clients and staff), general kid stuff (like Marianna's dance concert which involves three rehearsals in three completely different parts of Sydney) plus assorted birthday parties, general social stuff like Christmas parties and other end of year catch ups and general social events which just happen to fall during this time of year. Don't get me wrong I love the social stuff and I love being busy but this is definitely what I call too much of a good thing. With so much going on I barely have time to draw a breath and I am always thinking about the next thing which means I am hardly ever "in the moment" enjoying the thing I'm doing right now.

It's all feast or famine in life, isn't it? When I visit my grandmother in Shady Pines I see all the very elderly folk who have nothing but time now. Their lack of physical health means they can no longer do the things they used to do so they fill up their days around the home playing cards, reading, chatting, sitting. To someone like me who is always rushing through, spending half an hour visiting before running off onto the next errand, this seems blissful. What I wouldn't do to have an hour to sit in their lovely garden with a book and a cup of tea. We each look at each other jealously in some ways, wishing for a little of what the other has.

I try, and generally fail, to each day appreciate and enjoy what I have and what I'm doing right now. My pace, and stage, of life means I hurtle through each day, manically getting my tasks done (mostly without any real joy, simply because there just isn't the time to enjoy any emotion except frustration because nothing is ever done fast enough) and the little spare time I have is usually spent daydreaming about my long lost (at the time not appreciated) youth or planning for some event in the future.

But when I do have a moment like this one, when the children and I have had a lovely morning with no-one yelling or complaining (it's still early though), the pre-work morning tasks are mostly done and I'm typing this while the kids get a short burst of The Goodies, I take a breath and think how very lucky I am at this moment... and I savour this beautiful funny feeling.

Rocktober Day Thirty One: Deep Kick

I started my blog over five years ago with an entry about why I was going to call it The Adventures of Deep Kick Girl. Deep Kick is a Red Hot Chili Peppers' song from the album most fans seem to hate but which I love, One Hot Minute.

The song itself is a little hard to listen to; sort of a rambling monologue and not really their style at all. In a nutshell it's the story of Anthony and Flea and their teenage years as best friends, hanging out, having adventures, getting into trouble.

It's a personal song but one which I can relate to so much. For me the extra special bonus with this song is Flea singing the last verse in his broken little voice (fantastic musician, not so good with the singing).

It's not a song I rush off to listen to very often but just knowing it exists in the world is enough for me.

Deep Kick (live version from YouTube; it was never a single so there was never a proper film clip and I also don't imagine they would do it live much, these days they never do songs from One Hot Minute because I understand John refuses to play Dave's songs - SOB!)

It started when we were little kids.
Free spirits, but already tormented by our own hands
given to us by our parents.
We got together and wrote on desks
and slept in laundry rooms near snowy mountains
and slipped through whatever cracks we could find,
minds altered, we didn't falter
in portraving hysterical and tragic characters in a smog filled universe.
we loved the dirty city
and the journeys away from it.
We had not yet been or seen our friends, selves,
chase tails round and round in downward spirals,
leaving trail of irretrievable, vital life juice behind.
Still, the brothersbloodcomradespartnerfamilycuzz was impenetrable
and we lived inside it
laughing with no clothes, and everything experimental 'till death was upon us.
In our face, mortality.
And lots of things seemed futile then, but love and music can save us,
and did, while the giant grey monster grew
more poisoned and volatile around us,
jaws clamping down and spewing ugly shit around.
Nothing is the same.
So we keep moving.
We keep moving.

(Ooooooooooooh Shit! Ooooooooooooh Shit!)

Went off and got some hair cuts
Lookin wild and got all drugged up
Hopped a train into the night
Got a ride with a transvestite
Two boys in San Francisco
Two boys in San Francisco
Blasted off in a Bart bathroom
Those coppers woke us up
The mothersfuckers woke us up

Two young brothers on a hovercraft
Telepathic love and belly laughs

Storm the stage of Universal
Slim shine talk boy go subversal
Papa's proud and so he sent us
Pounding hearts full and relentless
Two boys in London, England
Two boys in London, England
Climbing out of hostel windows
Wearing gear so out but in though
Come on kid and do the no no

Two young brothers on a hovercraft
Telepathic love and belly laughs

(Oooooooooooh Shit! Ooooooooooooh Shit!)

We went to Fairfax High School
Jumped off buildings into their pools
We'd sit down and grease at Canters
Run like hell they can't catch us
Two boys in L.A. proper
Two boys in L.A. proper
Stealin' anything that we could
Gotta sneak into the Starwood
Gotta peak into the deep good

I remember...
10 years ago in Hollywood
We did some good
and we did some real bad stuff
but the Butthole Surfers said
It's better to regret something you did
Than something you didn't do
We were young
And we were looking
looki-i-ing
looking for that deep kick...
Seen 'em come, seen 'em go...

(And I feel I'm getting close to you)

And with that I bid goodbye to Rocktober. That was fun but now I need a Bex and a good lay down.

Rocktober Day Thirty: Cleaning Windows

In 1991, not long after the first gulf war started, my first husband Colin left me for my best friend's husband's much younger half sister who he had met for the first time at their wedding. [This is not a plot line from The Bold and The Beautiful.] I had just started working for my dad's new company and our office was in Ultimo, just near the Powerhouse Museum. There was no parking nearby, so I would park blocks away, under the overpass and it was a good walk through the back streets to the office and back.

Not long after I had a brief, though intense and, in hindsight, totally weird relationship with the graphic designer who was sub-leasing part of our office space.

I was angry, sad, spaced out and in a very strange mental space.

Why do you need to know all this? Not sure, really. But a very strong memory I have of that surreal time was listening to the Best of Van Morrison in the car every afternoon. It's a wonder I didn't wear out that CD.

It suited my mood at the time and when I hear any of those songs now it immediately takes me back to that time.

I don't know why I love this song, except that it has such an uplifting tune and sentiment... but I just do.

Cleaning Windows (live clip from YouTube - he's not so great live I have heard)

Oh, the smell of the bakery from across the street
Got in my nose
As we carried our ladders down the street
With the wrought-iron rows
I went home and listened to Jimmy Rodgers in my lunch-break
Bought five Woodbines at the shop on the corner
And went straight back to work

Oh, Sam was up on top
And I was on the bottom with the v
We went for lemonade and Paris buns
At the shop and broke for tea
I collected from the lady
And I cleaned the fanlight inside-out

I was blowing saxophone on the weekend
In that down joint.What's my line?
I'm happy cleaning windows
Take my time
I'll see you when my love grows
Baby don't let it slide
I'm a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows (number thirty-six).

I heard Leadbelly and Blind Lemon
On the street where I was born
Sonny Terry, Brownie McGhee, Muddy Waters sing "I'm a Rolling Stone"
I went home and read my Christmas Humphreys' book on Zen
Curiosity killed the cat
Kerouac's "Dharma Bums" and "On The Road".

What's my line?
I'm happy cleaning windows
Take my time
I'll see you when my love grows
Baby don't let it slide
I'm a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows ...

Rocktober Day Twenty Nine: You Don't Know Me

How can you go wrong when you put together Ben Folds AND Regina Spektor. Musical heaven.

This song is not what I was expecting. It's an angry little song but I love it. I love walking to it; it really puts an extra bounce in my step.

The great tune masks some rather savage lyrics. I just love it.

And who hasn't had that moment in a relationship when something is said and you look at your loved one and think "you don't know me... at all".

Writing about Ben Folds makes me realise I've forgotten to download the album he made with Nick Hornby - another marriage of two wonderful talents. Must get onto that tomorrow.

You Don't Know Me (cute live version from YouTube)

I wanna ask you -
Do you ever sit and wonder,
It's so strange
That we could be together for
So long, and never know, never care
What goes on in the other one's head?

Things I've felt but I've never said
You said things that I never said
So I'll say something that I should have said long ago:

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

You could have just propped me up on the table like a mannequin
Or a cardboard stand-up and paint me (paint me)
Any face that you wanted me
To be seen.
We're
Damned by the existential moment where
We saw the couple in the coma and
It was we were the cliché,
But we carried on anyway.

So, sure, I could just close my eyes.
Yeah, sure, trace and memorize,
But can you go back once you know

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me

If I'm the person that you think I am (Ah ah ahh)
Clueless chump you seem to think I am (Ah ah ahhh)
So easily led astray,
An errant dog who occasionally escapes and needs a shorter leash, then
Why the f**k would you want me back?!

Maybe it's because

(You don't know me at all)

Ahhh ah
Ahhh ah

(You don't know me,
you don't know me.)

Ahhh ah
Ahhh ah

So, what I'm trying to say is
What (What?)
I'm trying to tell you
It's not gonna come out like I wanna say it cause I know you'll only change it.
(Say it.)

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all
(You don't know me)
You don't know me at all (at all)

What?

(Mmmm, ohh oh
Ah ah ah ah ah
Aha ah ah ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Aha ah
Ah ah
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Oh-oh-oh-oh oh ohh)

Rocktober Day Twenty Eight: I Wanna Be Sedated

In 1981 my world was well and truly rocked by a little movie called Times Square. Tim Curry was the main attraction for me, having my love and dedication as Frank'n'Furter in Rocky Horror. But it was the story of two girls, one "good", one "bad", and their crazy friendship and adventures which stole my heart for ever. Not to mention the two young actresses, Trini Alvarado and Robin Johnson as Pamela and Nicky.

The soundtrack was a classic, including the awesome Pissing in the River by the Patti Smth Band, Life During Wartime by Talking Heads and Down in the Park by Gary Numan. Truly the soundtrack of the 80s.

But the most fun song, the song I think of when I think of this movie is this one. What a strange band The Ramones were. So unmusical, so bland (in a way), so many problems. So unlikely to be more than a garage band no-one ever heard of.

I Wanna Be Sedated (the original clip from YouTube, can you spot a young Courtney Love?)

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothin' to do no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
Oh no no no no no

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothin' to do no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated
Just put me in a wheelchair get me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
Oh no no no no no

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothin' to do no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated
Just put me in a wheelchair get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers I can't control my toes
Oh no no no no no

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothin' to do no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated
Just put me in a wheelchair get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers I can't control my toes
Oh no oh oh oh oh

Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated
Ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba I wanna be sedated

Woops!

Sorry about that. Life just sucked me away from blogging for a few days there.

Started with a class performance Will was participating in which meant we didn't get home to bed until 11:30 pm on Thursday night (after a much earlier than normal start to the day... which included me helping at the uniform shop during the orientation day for the new Kindy 2011 families at our school). There's a blog entry on school performances coming up.

Friday night we caught up for dinner with friends we hadn't seen for a little while (howdy, M, C and I). That, again, ended being a late night after the "system" ate out dinner order and we ended up actually eating much later than expected.

Saturday we ran around like lunatics getting organised so we could drop the kids at mum's place and then head up the Central Coast for a wedding. I may do a seperate rant about weddings soon. The most important point to make is we stayed the night at The Beachcomber Motel in Toukely and it was absolutely AWFUL. The room was very run down and smelly and to top things off the bogans from the nightclub kept me up most of the night yelling and swearing on the street outside our window. Oh joy!

This morning we rushed home (not that I was sleeping anyway) so that I could take Marianna to a Halloween party at a classmate's house (wow! what a party... some people know how to do things right... some may say OTT, but I wouldn't).

Have spent the last couple of hours by the pool with the kids, reading the Sunday paper and trying to unwind a little. I'm super tired and I know that as soon as dinner is done and the kids are in bed I'm going to hit the wall, hard.

For now, let's catch up on Rocktober... Resuming normal transmission in 10, 9, 8...

Rocktober Day Twenty Seven: Anchorage

I can't believe I almost overlooked one of my all time, hands down favourite songs, ever.

One of the problems with human psychology (at least my human psychology) is that we are always looking back or looking forward, it's difficult to focus on the present, I guess because being in the present we are always kind of dealing with it right now.

Looking back on life tends to be done through rose tinted nostalgia glasses. Everything was better way back when. I have a few girlsfriends who date back to my wilder days and there's nothing better than letting our minds float back to those good ol' days and remember who we were before we became what we are.

This song is about that for me. Looking back on a life of freedom and innocence, to a special time between friends. About moving on from friends but always having them in your heart. It makes my skin tingle from the very first note and that last line "Leroy says keep on rocking girl..." just makes me want to cry and cry and not ever stop.

This is a comment I saw when I found this song on YouTube. It really sums up my feelings too.

"This song is amazing. Every time I listen to it, it takes me to somewhere I don't even know, but it's somewhere I want to be."

Thank you, Michelle Shocked, for something very special.

Anchorage (original sweet clip from YouTube)

I took time out to write to my old friend
I walked across that burning bridge
I mailed my letter off to Dallas but her reply came from
Anchorage, Alaska

She said, Hey girl it's about time you wrote
It's been over two years, my old friend
Take me back to the days of the foreign telegrams
And the all night rock and rolling
Hey Chel we was wild then

Hey Chel you know it's kinda funny
Texas always seems so big
But you know you're in the largest state in the Union
When you're anchored down in Anchorage

Hey girl I think the last time I saw you
Was on me and Leroy's wedding day
What was the name of that love song you played?
I forgot how it goes
I don't recall how it goes

Anchorage
Anchored down in Anchorage

Leroy got a better job so we moved
Kevin lost a tooth, he's started school
I've got a brand new eight month old baby girl
I sound like a housewife
Hey Chel, I think I'm a housewife

Hey girl what's it like to be in New York?
New York City, imagine that
What's it like to be a skateboard punk rocker?
Leroy says send a picture
Leroy says hello
Leroy says keep on rocking, girl
Keep on rocking