Saturday, February 26, 2005

The tan

It is about day 930 since we moved to within walking distance of ‘the tan’ and it is about day 930 that we have never walked ‘the tan’.

Someone recently bragged in a letter to the editor of The Age, that they could run the tan in ten minutes.

I liked the response a week later from another correspondent who bragged that he and friends could stroll it in one and a half hours, not including the forty minute stop for coffee and a muffin. My kind of exercise I think.

Poor Thai boy

A Thai boy has been deported from Australia back to Thailand, even though he has spent the last seven odd years here in Australia and sounds and looks like an Aussie. He barely speaks Thai and certainly can't write or read Thai. How will he go back in Thailand?

A 104 year old Chinese woman maybe deported back to China for serious visa breaches.

Bad form Amanda Vandstone, Federal Minister for Immigration.

But then you look at the deeper details and it really does make some sense. I am not going to list them, find out for yourself if you don't know.

Perhaps I am just getting more conservative as I get older, or is nearly ten years of P.M. Howard starting to indoctrinate me.

She's a bit rude and on the tele

Memory is a bit hazy on this.

I guess it was mid sixties and I saw a picture of Jayne Mansfield on the cover of my mother's copy of the Australasian Post. I think maybe she had just been killed in a car accident. I think there was something about her having lots of children so that her breasts would be very large. Not sure if I read that or my Mum told me. (Didn't Jayne live in the wrong time! Probably just a day procedure now).

Her tits were huge and over her nipples were some silver star things. It was interesting for a kid to see, but in my case of course, purely from and observational point of view, and I think she may have had a body stocking on.

I can't remember when exactly, but there is a doco about her on ABC tv next week. Whetted you straight guys appetites?

I won't miss that one. Purely from an observational point of view of course.

Friday, February 25, 2005


This is a window cleaning transport machine. It's operation is pretty self evident. It goes around corners too. Nothing so sophisticated on the top of our building. They have to climb back up and move to the next anchor point, bu then our building has windows and not walls of glass. Posted by Hello

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

The slow, or even fast demise of a friendship can be a good thing. You no longer want to be in touch with this person or they don’t with you. Actually, you do want to stay in touch with them, but for whatever reason, it just gets a bit hard. You don’t call, you don’t email. Neither do they. It dies a natural death.

Neither party feels particularly rejected. Neither of you made the effort, so no big deal.

But I am gonna wear my heart on my sleeve here readers and mention the times I have been severely rejected. I can count them on one hand.

First time was when I was a foolish young teen. My father built us a very smart new house in a Gippsland town that starts with M, but shall remain nameless. While the house was being built, we stayed with rels across the road from a girl I went to school with. Of course I was gay, so I never thought about her in ‘that way’, but we got on well and we liked each other.

Her parents had a business and they were quite well off and ever so middle class. Church, Mercedes, teetotal, pristine house. I was an apprentice, step mother worked in a hotel, father, a builder. Not a great social match. I spent quite a bit of time at these peoples house. On the day I bought a new indicator flasher can for my girlfriend’s? Hillman Hunter, her mother suggested I was visiting too often and that I shouldn’t come over so often. I took the hint, never went back and have never seen her or her family since.

Case two. A most terrible misunderstanding. We had been friends with these two dykes for quite some time and we sold a car to them. We had been to many places with them, stayed at one of their mother’s houses, stayed up all night watching tv together, they came to my brother’s 21st. The car turned out to be not what they expected and we felt morally obliged to take it back. It was just so horrible, I don’t even like to remember it. We never saw them again.

Case three. One of our bestest and oldest friends we met through his partner. I used to work with him. We will call him W. We dined out often with him, visited him often as did he us, we went to plant nurseries, antique shops, films, parties, bars, dance parties, champagne and orange juice breakfast barbecues, listened to his latest sexcapede or boyfriend, in fact got to know his boyfriends very well. We all went to Mardi Gras together, stayed in the same hotel, parked the car and got a limo to the airport, got thoroughly trashed together.

He came to a point in life where he had to change. Move to the country where he could own a house cheaply. We were supportive and went with him to view houses. One night before he moved, we were there for dinner. To my discredit, I did not believe what my partner told me. He said that W said, once he moves, he does not want anything more to do with us. We have concluded now that it was his shrink that advised him as such. But when repeated to me, I just could not believe it, although I did believe that he would tell my partner, not me.

If you are a younger net savvy person, you probably have had your share of rejection already. It hurts, but don’t worry. Someone will love you for what you are.

But, believe me, personal rejection is nothing like net rejection. Personal rejection hurts bad. It cuts to your heart.

Better pull myself up there. Maybe there is someone who I or we have rejected.

Dilemma (no spell check for subject)

I tried to sell six magazines on ebay for what I thought might be $200. Only one sold, for twenty dollars. They were the first issues of Blue magazine if you are wondering. I thought if I did ok from the ebay sales, then I could justify buying three dvds that I really want.

First is The Plank. I did not know there were two versions. A bit of net searching was an education. The first one was a movie made in the 1950s starring Eric Sykes. The second one was a made for tv version also starring Eric Sykes but with Arthur Lowe.

The latter is the one I want because it is the one I know.

Sticking with the silent theme, the other two are Jacques Tati films.

Monsieur Hulot's Holiday and Mon Oncle. I have them all on video tape, but I want to see them bright and clear.

I found them all on the net after some serious searching.

Problems though, apart from cost.

The The Plank (tv) movie I could only find on video. Phhh. It will deteriorate quickly and not good clear copy anyway.

There is no guarantee that the the Jacques Tati movies will have the minimalist French sound track.

Biggest problem though, I don't actually have a dvd player. (For the integrity of the post, you will discount the pc dvd player)

It is my birthday tomorrow. (big grin)

Just kidding.

TV

Do watch Foyle's War, ABC, Sunday night. It is a fine piece of television, so switch off the pc, turn off the phones, lock the kiddies in a cupboard, pour yourself a drink and sit down and concentrate. It is a rewarding use of your time.

Do not watch Aussie version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Channel 10, Wednesday night. The US version wasn't much, and this is a poor man's carbon copy. You would be better staring at ants on the footpath, as AFE wrote in a wonderfully sentimental and moving blog post.

Our lounge room window looks straight out onto this sign at night time. It is actually yellow, not the redish/orange that the camera thinks. It is not a word of course, but everyone pronounces it as one and it always gets a smutty laugh. If you want to know, it stands for Australia National Line, a shipping company. Posted by Hello

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

What I learned today

More than I need to know about Hunter S Thompson. (he is dead now).

Ponche Hawkes is a female. (Melbourne based photographer I think)

We have all heard the word said but am I the only one who did not connect it to the written word, victuals, pronounced vittals? Fortunately Australians don't eat 'victuals'. We just eat food.

You can travel in a high speed river boat in Laos and cover 190km in two and a half hours.

Hanoi is now full of motorbikes, unlike when we were there and it was full of bicyles.

A caveat on a property needs to be used with caution. It could backfire.

Some Sydney Rugby players got into a female dorm at a university. Who opened the door and paid off the guard? At least Melbourne football players get up to mishief at posh hotels.

Some VIP gay dude wrote an email critisising our Gay Pride March. Aspiring tory pollie I think.

I guess when you no longer learn stuff, you are dead.

Water water, not everywhere

While one side of the country is talking about covering over irrigation channels to reduce the huge loss through evaporation, the other side of the country is talking about digging a huge canal, uncovered, for thousands of kilometres to bring fresh water from the tropical north to it’s capital city Perth.

Australians in the drier middle and south are now obsessed with water and the lack of it. Yet, business and governments want to add another ten million to our population of twenty million. This is only to keep growth figures high and provide a cheap labour force. I am no economist, but do countries really have to continue to grow to be successful?

I wonder if these citizens of Perth in Western Australia will vote for the party that has proposed the channel. We will find out next Saturday.

It may sound like I am arguing that we ought to waste water and I am not, but water is unlike anything manmade. You use petrol in your car. It comes from underground. How we can continue to take so much stuff out of the ground without it all falling in, I am unsure. Petrol is burnt and all you are left with is polluting nasties.

You use water, maybe waste it, but it is never lost. It goes out to sea and evaporates and forms moisture in the sky and falls down again. Perhaps not in the same place, perhaps somewhere where it is needed even more or even where less is needed. But it is still there. It is never really used. So we can tamper with water, store it, move it around, filter it and return it to from where it came.

But I am unsure that moving a huge quantity of water over such a long distance is a great idea. The phrase that comes to mind is ecological nightmare, made worse because of the politics of it all. Perhaps best that you dear folk in Perth vote for the present incompetent politicians rather than hopeful incompetent politicians.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Ba-na-na

I have eaten bananas all my life and suddenly I don't like them. Weird!

When I was a kid, Mum would call out as I departed to wherever, 'Got your hanky(handkerchief)? Take a banana in case you get hungry.'

It started a few weeks ago and I laid off them for a while. I only had one a day I guess, or less. But instead I started taking apples to work. But today, I thought I would take a banana. I et half of it and chucked the other half away. Yuk!

Must check out other sorts of banana. What was the sugar banana that was around in the eighties?

Andrew.
Well, the Gay and Lesbian, or should that be GLTBTIQ, Midsumma Festival has been and gone. The last day was Carnival in the Alexandra Gardens. 40,000 or 60,000 poofs and dykes, depending who you read. Our friends and us took our modest picnic lunch and did perhaps three circuits of it all.

As usual there were some stunning looking guys. Our friends thought, given how many drag queens were on display, that they should allow their ‘sisters’ to make an appearance next year.

There were so many people sitting in the fairly warm sun. I don’t know how they do it and not end up bright red.

We caught a little of Dulcie’s Dog Show, guest judges, Adam Elliot of Harvey Krumpet fame, and Dr Hugh Wirth of RSPCA fame. I love seeing the dogs walking around before and after the show.

It is always nice to catch up with people you aren’t friends with too. Sort of like a gay equivalent of straight weddings and funerals.

Jokingly, between us, we refer to it as Gayday. Gayday was something that happened at the Olympic Park Football Oval back in the eighties. I am far too young to remember or to have been there.

I do recall when it was off Fitzroy Street, St Kilda, before it grew too big. We had a lovely time there with ex friends. Dean White (Bang clothing, off Commercial Rd) washing cars in just Speedos. Very nice.

We travelled home to the wilds of Burwood in a friend’s Camira. Scary. We were singing a song in the car and I can’t remember the name of it or the group but the very recognisable lyrics were something like, ‘All that she wants is a baby’. It was good at the time.

But we have moved on. Partner found Carnival hard going and thinks he might only attend every second one. I understand where he is coming from. But he has not been to (why is grammar checker suggesting that should be too? I am sure I am correct.) as many as I have.

My first at Alexander Gardens was with workmates. I had just bought my first mobile phone, five phones later. We went firstly to the Blue Elephant for lunch. I put my phone in a prominent place on the table, and partner rang, as he promised to do, and I had to ostentatiously answer it. Ericsson 218 I think.

It was quite a drunken day, and when I had had more than enough, I caught the tram home. Well started to, until my mobile rang and I had to go back. Two girls had found my wallet on a ride and my mobile phone number inside the wallet and I had not even noticed it was missing. (Observe me nowdays with wallet and phone clutched in my hand). A belated thanks girls.

Back to 2005. In a previous post I made mention of sister saying our place was sterile. After carnival, she and her friend called in and we had lots of drinkies and very nice pizza. Loosened her lips, obviously.

But what I really did notice at carnival, was how many dykes there are. They were everywhere and almost seemed to outnumber the guys. Mostly in couples or with friends. Over the past week since carnival I am looking suspiciously at every woman I see.

Ah, who could blame them. Guys only want the one things don’t they? And then when the women get older and might actually enjoy some close attention, the guys are no longer interested. I suppose some girls might even find women very attractive in some way. Well, each to his/her own.