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?".

That's entertainment

Sunday night I went to the Opera House to see Antony and The Johnsons. I went with my sister J and my long suffering hubby Big Jay. I have to say Big Jay was there by accident; he was feeling guilty for having let me go to so many concerts on my own and when I suggested this one he said "yes" because he thought there were no other takers. When he found out my sister was coming he was a little annoyed. He's more of an AC/DC sort of guy and if you put Antony and ACCADACCA on a spectrum they'd be about as far apart as Earth and Pluto (which will always be a planet as far as I am concerned).

It is worth casting our mind back to the last time we saw Antony at the State Theatre when the support "act" (and I use the term loosely was Coco Rosie). You can re-live this special experience here. Well this time around Antony out did himself. These people made Coco Rosie look like entertainers of the millenium.

How do I describe it? A geeky guy comes on stage and starts fiddling with his Mac laptop. Eerie, horror movie soundtrack-type music fills the concert hall. The lights dim and we all anticipate Antony's arrival. In vain. A shape becomes obvious to one side of the stage. A strange shape. As the light brightens somewhat the shape is exposed as a woman dressed in an old sheer lace curtain with an ugly metal pointy mask on her head. She stalks across the stage, slowly, very slowly. She is wearing odd, high heeled shoe things. She stalks as the music plays. There is anticipation that something interesting may happen. It doesn't. She arrives at the other side of the stage (so far the trip has taken about 15 minutes). She strips off the curtain to reveal a metallic bondagy type outfit. She takes off the mask. She stalks to the centre of the stage where she proceeds to move her arms and legs in a random manner. Another 15 minutes pass. She stalks off stage and relief floods the audience. In vain. Shortly she is back. She is now dressed in what appears to be an old insect screen. She stalks up and down the stage some more. She takes off insect screen. She postures in the middle of the stage. She leaves.

Fuck me! I giggled hysterically throughout. WHAT. THE. FUCK. WAS. THAT???!!! Seriously!

I know courses for horses, entertainment wise, but really. Do the Arts Councils give any old fuckwit a grant to develop their "art"? It was ridiculous, stupid, horrible and downright pathetic.

Attempting to wipe this comedy/horror show from my mind I settled in for the wonderful Antony. He was performing with a 41 piece orchestra and I was excited to see how this would work.

Well, I have to say it didn't work so well. Yes, Antony still has the magical, not of this world voice which blows my mind. But overall the show was strange and disjointed. For a start there was no sign of The Johnsons. While the orchestra played beautifully somehow it was too "pretty" and not edgy enough for me. It was missing "something" I couldn't put my finger on, if I compared it to his last solo show in 2006 or his appearance on back up vocals for Lou Reed in 2007; both of which were perfection.

He did the amazing I fell in love with a dead boy which is a song I simply love to death (pardon the pun). But he didn't do You are my sister or Fistful of love which are my two favourite songs. The songs off the new album all blend in together for me and don't really hit the spot. Not like I am a bird now which is an album I adore.

Anyway, to top off a weird and slightly annoying evening dear space cadet Antony went off on a meandering discussion about hating my husband's employer [evil evil evil ] Rupert Murdoch (or Rupey as I like to call him) and followed that up with some blather about climate change and how his hotel Quay Grand would soon be under water. [Well better sleep with a fucking life jacket on, just in case, you moron. - Believe me it pains me greatly to call Antony a moron, but I call it as I see it.]