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~ The Home Pub of the Famous Pink Drinks and Trotter's Ale

Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle

Monthly Archives: October 2011

Cross the Line

31 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Lehan Winifred Ramsay

≈ 6 Comments

Rira

Story and Image by Lehan Winifred Ramsay

A friend said to me: what kind of support is there for young people like us?
We are not young, I replied.

It is easy to fall into the mistake of assuming that change is made by other people. But really we are the ones. The ones to make something change. There are plenty of people older than us and younger than us, it is true. But we don’t know what those people are thinking. They may be thinking the same as we; that there must, or should, be some support for young people like us. Or old people like us.

There are a lot of invisible lines in the world, that we learn that we must not cross. That is often what stops us from protesting or even protecting. It is not our business. It is not our right. It is not our style. It is not our place. Even though they are invisible lines they are as clear to us as the fingers on our hands. Taking a step toward them makes them even more clear. It can be a frightening thing to do.

What you need to remember though is how they look when you have stepped over them to the other side. They look a lot more insubstantial. They look confused, disconcerted, and most of all they look unimportant. Even if you have been punished for crossing the line, the important thing is that you have done it. And you have not died or gone to hell.

Crossing the line can be very frightening. But you need to remember that only part of that menace is what you have actually done. The other part is that you have broken a taboo.
You do need to consider carefully what that taboo is before you decide to take it on. You need to consider the repercussions, the consequences, as far as you know them. You need to try to understand the reason for the taboo, from the point of view of society. And you need to understand your own beliefs. You are going to live with the decision you make.

It might be that in crossing this line, you might lose some friends. You do need to consider this. On the other hand, you might not have as much need for friends; you might find out who amongst your friends are going to stick with you.

Once you have made some investment into a life it can be difficult to take risks that might threaten that investment. So you have started in a job you want to spend a long time in, you want a better job and a better one after that. You want to have a home, you want to get a car, you want a holiday. So you will be careful. You will not speak out, you will not take action, you will not ask for more or less. That is understandable. The problem is that it becomes a habit, and from protecting your investment it can grow. And you begin to limit yourself.

You don’t think so? Find a line and cross it. Try it out. Spend some time learning where you have become overly accustomed to restraint. Take some time to notice how obedient you are. Do you have trouble with your utilities? Do you notice how averse you are to calling them? You get angry and you call the number – and the voice tells you that your call is monitored for “training purposes”. The person you are speaking to is unhelpful. But you are the one who is intimidated. Because you know that this is meant to be frustrating, and you are frustrated.

Try crossing the line. It is your training. Call up every day until you understand how to move from this situation to a better one. Cross that line. Lines don’t always have to be worse, you know.

Try another line. Take more time to get through the checkout at the airport. Linger, luxuriate. Don’t fumble; relax and meander. You obeying all the rules, named and unnamed, has made this system work. You fear the line. Not security. Your good behaviour makes for a good business model.

Sometimes we think that only unorthodox behaviour can be a protest. I don’t think that is correct though. Anyway, crossing the line doesn’t always have to be a protest. It can be a stretch. It can be a shift that gives you a little more room. It can be a life changing realization of just how passive you have become. You might not think that one small rebellion would take you so far. And you may not even want to go as far as you go. But looking back you can hardly regret the experience (the consequences, of course, are a different matter).

Go and see if you can talk to the person that you are sure you are unable to meet. The Prime Minister, and some popstar. Chances are you won’t succeed. Just try it to stretch out your intentions. See who you meet along the way. And try to get whatever message you have to move along the line. You want the world to change? Then try something and see what change is. Because it isn’t other people who change the world.

It’s you who changes the world. And you do that by making a move, and crossing a line. A line that represents something you don’t do, don’t think you can do, are told you can’t do. You cross that line by taking a chance. A chance that it will not work, not be a good thing, not help. Because you want to make a change.

A change is not always found on a line. But often is. It’s a line that is invisible but you know it’s there. That’s why you don’t cross it. To cross it, you have to make a choice, take a chance. You’ll get across it. You will. Or you won’t. Somebody else is not going to do it. That’s not how change works. Why not try yourself.

‘Normal’, there is no such thing. ( only Abnormal Taps and Park Benches)

30 Sunday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 32 Comments

Tags

Court, Judges., Taps

There is no such thing as ‘normal’, even amongst the world of public toilets and taps. I thought I had seen the end of abnormal taps when leaving Goulburn and moving to the Bowral environs. No such luck. Abnormal public toilet accessories might be rare but they still exist, even here in Bowral. I first encountered those strange taps in Goulburn and opposite the Court House. Perhaps as a reminder that punishment will be meted out to you no matter where you are or indeed, can be applied without a Judge or Court, as a result of merely washing your hands. Justice has many mysterious ways.

The fore mentioned abnormal taps are of the kind  that are totally useless for those with a single arm or one hand disabled or in a sling, broken, smashed or even without fingers. Those taps stubbornly refuse to give water as soon as you want to feel the wetness of it. There is some kind of mechanism that shuts the water off as soon as you need it.  No matter how fast you move your hands under the tap, not a drop will the tap surrender. I don’t know the hydrological engineer responsible for this wonder but it must have been his or hers life’s work. The Michael Angelo of taps.

You can only get water from the tap by one hand turning the tap and holding on to it for dear life and wet the other hand under its stream. You can’t rub hands together. You can only kind of rub fingers and rotate the wrist a bit. You can then do the same with the other hand. But the whole job becomes frustrating and it leaves the job of cleansing of hands almost hardly worth going on with it. You give up and hope the next public toilet will be less punishing.

Then there are those park benches, made to torture at best but more likely to have been designed not to be sat upon, ever. You still see them sometimes, especially at railway stations or bus stops and again as with the taps, outside Court Houses. They are made of two pre-cast concrete upright structures, bolted down (who would steal those?) which support sturdy wooden joists across. The hardwood timber supports are spaced too wide apart and it takes only those with generous bottoms to glean any comfort from them. For those with normal bums, those seats are best negotiated by constantly moving or shuffling backwards and forwards, relieving the cutting of blood supplies to thighs or vital organs including of course the male conjugal part(s). I am glad to say though, that they are now being replaced with far more ergonomically designed wooden structures that are comfortable and good looking as well.

One should always look out for the good things in life!

Jangle, Angle, Ang

28 Friday Oct 2011

Posted by Mark in Bands at the Pig's Arms, Warrigal Mirriyuula

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

Billy Bragg, Dave Edmunds, James Griffin & The Subterraneans, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Led Zeppelin, music, Nick Lowe, Rod Stewart, The Doors, The Easybeats, The Faces, The Kinks, The Move, The Police, The Rolling Stones, The Small Faces, The Who, Van Morrison, Warrigal, youtube

Jangling Fender Twin copy

 

Jangle, Angle, Ang by Warrigal Mirriyuula.

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pA1Tk7FED0

Van Morrison, Here Comes The Night

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=–HaFAtC17U

The Faces, Ooh Lah Lah

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F01aLeErvoU

Rod Stewart, Maggie May

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CivvdtlZ4ok&feature=fvwrel

The Move, Blackberry Way

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJzcF0v1eOE

The Small Faces, Itchycoo Park

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NSowZcvoqr4

The Easybeats, Friday On My Mind

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mMWNwHof0kc

The Kinks, All Day And All Of The Night

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVXmMMSo47s&feature=related

The Kinks, Lola

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzcWwmwChVE

The Rolling Stones, Time Is On My Side

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPk3-GmPRnY

The Doors, Roadhouse Blues

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=594WLzzb3JI

The Who, My Generation

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2Qad-gaHMg

The Police, Roxanne

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bkjv9SscotY

Led Zeppelin, Since I Been Lovin’ You

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAXy8gyMFI0&feature=related

Dave Edmunds, Girls Talk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0l3QWUXVho

Nick Lowe, Cruel To Be Kind

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kn1CXbf2xF8

Nick Lowe, I Knew The Bride

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcrEqIpi6sg

Joni Mitchell, Both Sides Now

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGMHSbcd_qI

Joan Baez, Diamonds And Rust

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjUA3RU4B8E

Billy Bragg, Between The Wars

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qAggcERAxU

James Griffin & The Subterraneans, The Angel Run

 

Keywords: Van Morrison, The Faces, Rod Stewart, The Move, The Small Faces, The Easybeats, The Kinks, The Rolling Stones, The Doors,  The Who, The Police, Led Zeppelin, Dave Edmunds, Nick Lowe, Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, Billy Bragg, James Griffin & The Subterraneans, Warrigal, youtube, music

 

Toilet Talk and Walking days.

28 Friday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Bowral, Bradman, Zatopek.

With ageing comes the inevitable increase in both frequency and urgency to seek the friendly embrace and comfort of a toilet. We all know that, except of course to the foolish young, cavorting under strobe lights and indulgencies of frequencies of a different kind, but still involving bodily functions.

The first thing to do when changing address is to reconnoitre thoroughly the availability of public toilets. I did, and now can safely go for walks without the hand-held GPS for finding, just in case mind you, a nice toilet.  The first one is within coohey of our place at the hallowed grounds of The Bradman Oval, The International Hall of Cricket Fame. The toilets are utterly original, sparkling clean and with normal taps (thank God). I often relish the idea, that on the very seat I am squatting, Bradman might well have s(h)at as well. It always gives my day a pleasant tinge. A kind of good and wholesome, optimistic start, how can any day go wrong now, I ponder?

Between our house and the other side of Bowral runs a small river with a concrete footpath parallel with it. Even though it is just a few hundred metres from the main street, it could be miles away. It is a beautiful walk, the river alive with ducks and their ducklings.  I take this walk along the creek every day with of course the manic Milo, straining at the leash almost pulling me along to the other side of the creek, totally disregarding my endless urgings of ‘nice walking Milo’, ‘good boy Milo’ and above all ‘no pulling Milo’.

Yesterday, about half way and just after some rain I noticed an elderly man lying in the grass near the water, trying to get up. He also had a small dog, a poodle and a walking stick. He was struggling so I helped him up. He told me he had no feelings in the bottom halves of his legs but also told me ‘I walk for miles every day’. He spoke well and I inquired if he needed some help to get back to his house. ‘I’ll be alright, thank you kindly’, he said, so I left it at that. I thought he might have been in his eighties, perhaps a retired pilot. There seems to be a plethora of retired pilots living here. Perhaps they like to retire higher up. We are about 750 metres above sea level.

Anyway, on my return I noticed him still walking along slowly and on his mobile phone. With the previous feeling of optimism and the pleasant reflection on Bradman and the possibility of having shared the same toilet seat, the mood became somewhat more melancholic. Were the walking days of this elderly gentleman coming to an end? I still have an almost Emil Zátopek zeal in thinking my walking days will go on indefinitely but no doubt so did the elderly gent (without feelings in his lower legs). Was it seeping away from him now?

Sadly, I could not come up with a better solution than the idea that the ‘seeping away towards the end’  will come to all of us, even to those that are now hopping and shimmering around underneath strobe lights to wild tempestuous music.

 Enjoy the day. It might never end.

Good food born out of Poverty. (or so it seems)

27 Thursday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 32 Comments

Tags

France, Garlic.France.Italy.Holland.Ingmar Bergman.Sweden.The Seventh Seal.Max Von Sydow., Greece, Italy.Greece.

We are all totally aware that good nutritional food doesn’t need to cost any more than rubbish food.  In fact it cost less.  However, the notion that it does (cost more) seems to doggedly persist. Here is a rebuttal but don’t take it as the gospel, even though the gospel tells some real furphies as well. Take what you like, ditch the rest as they say at AA.

Good tasty food was always the domain of the poor who had to make do with what grew in the wild, or in the case of farmers, managed to grow on small plots of land. So, in Italy it was pasta with garlic and herbs, for the lucky few some salted grated cheese on top.  In France it was much the same but there were the added bits of chicken or sometimes wild boar. To give taste, it was always the herbs that gave the helping hand, more so than the actual ingredients. In Greece, with olives and more, olives, fish and more fish, but always garnished with herbs and fragrant oils. The poor knew how to add flavour no matter in what country they resided in with the help of herbs.

In England, I don’t know but I suspect, the eating might well have been more punishment, although bread pudding is a dish I still remember with some joy. In Holland, raw salted herrings with mashed spuds with preserved cabbage (zuurkool) kept many alive. The Scandinavians got their vitamin intake during those long and dark sombre winters from berries found in the wild by bearded men clothed in reindeer skins (while watching The Seventh Seal. ‘Det sjunde inseglet’ directed by Ingmar Bergman with that forbidden (ing) character Max Von Sydow, playing chess).

I am amazed that despite all the cookery books and the TV Master-chefs shows and all the attention on food that more and more people seem to be overfed but undernourished. Perhaps it is ‘because’ of that attention on food. The poor ate out of hunger, a necessity to stay alive. Perhaps we eat in order to eat, a past-time or like a hobby. Has anyone noticed that we now eat and drink while in motion, walking the streets we are chewing away, driving a car we are chewing, shopping we are chewing. In the trains and busses we are chewing. Jaws going up and down everywhere now.

Do we need to get poor again? How can people claim it cost more to eat healthy food than unhealthy food?  How much the cost of pasta with garlic and a sprinkling of grated parmesan?  Or, chicken thighs with carrots and spuds, or Lebanese bread with sliced olives, tomatoes and some anchovies in the oven?  How much does it cost for some chuck steak stewed with potatoes, carrots, onions, capsicum with the help of a bit of turmeric, chilli, aniseed, a couple of cloves, cinnamon? You can cook those meals for a lot less than a night out at MacDonald’s or KFC’s and are tastier.

The main thing, it seems, might be to go back to when we ate out of hunger, not because of boredom or for lack of something to do. Or so it seems to me.

A Call to Player – Occupy Apple. You. Yes, You.

26 Wednesday Oct 2011

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Lehan Winifred Ramsay

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Apple, Occupy

Europe 04

Story and Photograph by Lehan Winifred Ramsay

Recently a movement called Occupy Wall Street has sprung up, and to the delight of many has captured the attention of the media. The media is happy to find an enclave of potential disruption; it makes it easier to get the lighting sorted and have the journalists standing by. Besides, this Occupy Wall Street enjoys the patronage of many well-to-do celebrities keen to share the spotlight. A cause and a celebrity is an attractive combination for the media.

Occupy Wall Street identifies itself as the 99 percent of the world that is asking the richest 1% – to stop being so greedy. Perhaps to give up a little of its money. Particularly the Bankers of Wall Street, those who receive huge bonuses for their financial management whether it works or not. Occupy Wall Street participants take to patches of city land and camp there. My suggestion here is that Occupy Wall Street participants could do better to find a way to Occupy Apple. And I am asking you – yes you – to do it.

I do not mean that you should take your tent and sleeping bag and move into the Apple shop. Nor that you should fill up the footpaths in front of it. I am suggesting that instead you find a way to nestle inside your Apple Products until there are enough of you, and then send a polite note to the Apple bosses that says hey, we need a little help with a small problem – do you have a minute?

Those Occupying Wall Street – what are they occupying, how are they occupying? Why do we like them so much? They are not asking for anything in particular, they say. Just for the bankers to give up some of their wealth. I like them – they have the springy innocence of Apple products. And they are not causing any trouble – it is the police that are the trouble, it is the governments that are the trouble. They don’t look at the police, don’t look at the government, just carry on being fresh and uncomplicated.

I remember when Apple had some great advertisements using their Think Different slogan, using the pictures of famous people; Gandhi, Mother Theresa. Now we could put Steve Jobs in there; he was world-changing too. I think it is highly possible that he was. Certainly there are people whose lives are better because of his work. Perhaps though he was more of a “working-class” hero; mostly helping people with good lives to live better lives. We should try to Think Different too.

Really poor people don’t usually have mp3 players. Sometimes though they do get to build them. What if you were to ask Apple to add a function to your computing devices that allowed you to meet the people who built them for you. It wouldn’t be so difficult would it? And then, like the tracking that allows you to know where your food sources grew up, you could also know who had built your devices for you, what their names were and what they looked like. That would be one way in which Apple could help.

I am wondering how it would be possible to mimic the behaviour of the Occupy Wall Street action to achieve a similar result. And I am wondering where this behaviour has come from. The first step is to set up a camp in a place that is not Wall Street, but call it Occupy Wall Street. So it is a kind of a virtual occupation. What is the precedent for this?

The second step is to not look at the Government, even though one’s actions are directed at the Government. Then, the peaceful protests change into violent resistance and the government forces are blamed for the violence. That is not so new, we would probably find that this has been tried before.

How could you replicate this in an Occupation of Apple? Perhaps all the apple owners could declare that their purpose, in stocking up on apple products, was actually just to use the product because they liked it. Then, they could reveal that actually it was something else: It was to give Apple the power and the means for implementing a peaceful revolution. And then wait. Wait for the peaceful revolution. And then, in the case that it didn’t come, that Apple didn’t come through, to drop all their products in the bin and encourage another company to fly high.

We should not be giving Apple all of our ideas for what we could do to address inequality in the world. Because that’s what Apple does, that’s what it trades in; ideas. Ideas, brought to life and clothed in the best design there is. If there is an idea out there worth pursuing, Apple will find it for us. And if Apple finds that idea, we can rest assured that Apple will also find a way to make it pay for itself. And we will have a profitable solution to the world’s greatest problem. That’s not something that Wall Street can lay claim to. They didn’t make a profit out of the Global Financial Crisis, did they? Occupy Apple. Because it’s a sure thing.

Question. Question yourself and what your stake in this is. To question your involvement in Apple and to question your own values and your own place in the world and in the problem. We know that Occupying Wall Street places our governments in the firing line, between us and the big corporations. And we know that looking at causes in far off places can take away from our sense of responsibility for what happens here and now; problems connected to us. You may have figured out how to occupy Apple. If you are not sure about what your question to Apple is going to be – for you are likely only to have one chance, one question – take some time to consider it now. Once you get in there, we’ll be counting on you to ask it.

Just love those cows. (But not so much Boat People)

25 Tuesday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 69 Comments

Tags

Boatpeople.Goebbels, Java.Bali, KristalNacht.ABC.4Corners.Indonesia

 

 Careful, watch it! Here is another one. A controversial piece, whose words could easily cause dangerous empathy, or for some, irritating disdain or dismissal, no one is obliged to read any further.

The ABC 4 corners have come up with 2 sessions that I found to be somewhat related. A few months ago there was this exposure of the mistreatment of cattle. It resulted in a nation-wide outrage. Who can forget footage of the poor cows being beaten, their sad pleading eyes as they went into their final death throes. Of course, this was all done in a naughty overseas country. Our condemnation went instantly into automatic or overdrive. Within days the export of cattle was halted and reassuring footage was shown of thousands of cattle being put back into holding yards and given rich grains pouring from laden bins. Thousands flocked to the NT and even Queensland and stroked cows. Thank goodness for our humane treatment of all thing living. Tearstained faces on the telly and many cancelled their holidays to Bali or Java. How barbaric. At some stage old footage of sheep being loaded alive in boots of cars by white frocked men, again in an evil overseas country, was again dug up and dusted off, just in case we had forgotten. We all felt a warm glow of empathy. We were not like that. We are caring and full of humanness. We felt good about ourselves.

Now, I find all this love and sweetness for animals somewhat at odds with what we saw last night on the 4 Corner programme on boat-people. There were sad and pleading eyes as well. There were people being beaten, shot at. Some were driven into suicide. There were lip sewing, knife or razor cuts, self-harm percentages, children in jail without parents. Opioids medicated people suffering the torment of indefinite detention without having committed a crime. Those ghastly scenes of boat people running around the dark with tracer bullets lighting up the sky, something reminiscent of a Kristalnacht.

 This has been going on for years now. How odd, that we seem to accept that. Where is our indignation and love of humanity? I suspect that much of this lack of empathy can be squarely laid at the feet of the commercial TV and Radio world.  Last night on the ABC’s media watch, Jonathan Holmes pointed out about the way the commercial TV and Radio manipulate and hijack our national conscience and managed to change an entire nation into a kind Joseph Goebbels mentality. (Goebbels was Reich-minister of Propaganda for Hitler) There is a sizable portion of the Australian population who genuinely believe that boatpeople are being treated like royals. They are given red carpet treatment, palatial housing and benefits that other can only dream about. No matter how they are presented with facts or how often the UNHCR or Amnesty International points the finger at Australia, many persist in believing the gospel of Commercial Media.

I don’t know what the answer is. I haven’t got it. I am surprised that the Commercial media is so popular. I would not even know where our channel 9 or 7, 10 are. We haven’t watched those ever. The ads are too distracting. Perhaps, the freedom to corrupt and enslave us into Goebbels is not freedom at all. Should a Government be far stricter on the likes of Bolts, Ackermans, and Jones’ of this world?

Music Library Songs from The Dot 3

24 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by Mark in Bands at the Pig's Arms

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Beethoven, Camille Saint-Saëns, HQ Music, Little Walter, music, Pearl Jam, Return to Forever, Ricky Lee Jones, Sandy Nelson, The Pretenders, Valentina Lisitsa, Wilhelm Kempff, youtube, Zorba the Greek

Gordon run out on the moon by Warrigal Mirriyuula

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hw4BIYh-2s

Ricky Lee Jones – Show Biz Kids

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vgnl2WLF388

Pearl Jam – Daughter (Live)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=duRp_avXtMM&feature=grec_index

Little Walter – My Babe

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6txOvK-mAk

Wilhelm Kempff – Beethoven’s Midnight Sonata Movement No.1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1_2vqGgXGA

Sandy Nelson – Let there be Drum’s 66

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zucBfXpCA6s

Valentina Lisitsa  – Beethoven “Moonlight” Sonata op 27 # 2 Mov 3

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzlcxN0lxSo

HQ Music – Zorba the Greek

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSksWyHsYw8

Return to Forever – Sorceress

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyknBTm_YyM

Camille Saint-Saëns – Danse Macabre

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK3uf5V0pDA

The Pretenders – Back on the Chain Gang

Keywords: Ricky Lee Jones, Pearl Jam,, Little Walter, Beethoven, Sandy Nelson, Valentina Lisitsa , HQ Music, Return to Forever, Camille Saint-Saëns, Wilhelm Kempff , Zorba the Greek, The Pretenders

“The Slap and Midnight in Paris.” ( hundred percent factual)

24 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Christos Tsialkus, Paris, The Slap, Woody Allen

 

Over the last few weeks I watched short segments of the TV series The Slap. They were short bits that I watched, so don’t take my observations as too factual or writ in cement, more like cast in yoghurt. Take what you like and chuck the rest.

Yesterday, with all the turmoil on the Inebriates and their Bleached Bones etc, Helvi and I went to see Woody Allen’s ‘Midnight in Paris’ here in Bowral.  The difference between the two films could not be starker. I don’t know about you but I find watching The Slap almost unbearable. The negativity is just seeping out from almost every sequence. One can’t fault the acting, the filming and the expert casting, or indeed the story which is based on the book by Christos Tsiolkas… I am usual the first one to admit that the ‘art of things’ is what matters almost more than the technique or even the story. If it works it works, is my motto. The Slap works in the sense of a well made series, well acted but the unrelenting emptiness of the couples lives just spoils it for me. Too depressing!

The main character, the slapper, the son of Greek parents, is just about the pits. He seems to go through life between short bursts of ejaculating around the place and walks to the fridge grabbing a beer. All is enjoyed with the minimum of care or pleasure. He cuts an apple with utter contempt. He chucks his mobile phone about.  He struts around his pool and house which would have to be the ultimate in hideous empty totally impersonal architecture.  He runs a business whereby his only involvement seems to be the money.  His son, a sad boy, whereby at one segment is seen to watch with his brutal father some segment of music with gyrating hip swinging female hopping dancers. Before that he watched his mother being brutalised by his father.

The only people who seemed to have some humanity about are the Greek parents and to some extent, the breast feeding mother of the slapped kid and her partner. (I even saw some books in their poor little house.) I remember the ABC making good TV, especially comedy. What with that silly Julia series and now the Slap. What’s cooking next?

Compare this with Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris. Well, there is no comparison. We walked out jubilant. What a lovely story. The wife of the French president, Carla Bruni, is stunning as a tourist guide doing the rounds through Le Louvre or was it The Jardin the Versailles? The main character is forced to face the shortcomings of his shopping addicted American wife and their divergent aims. No matter how Woody Allen faces the cynicisms of the world he lives, his rather disappointing and glum view of so much of the culture he was born into, he dresses them up in artistry and above all humour. He gave us (and still is giving) wonderful films. I liked his “ not only do I not believe in a God, but try and get a plumber on a Sunday!.

Tom R.I.P (Amongst the bleached Bones of the inebriates at Orange. NSW)

22 Saturday Oct 2011

Posted by gerard oosterman in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 109 Comments

Tags

Aboriginal, alcoholism, Anzac, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, Herne Bay, inebriate, Korea, Korean War, Land Grant, Orange, Pink Floyd, Sydney, Wiragjuri

(A story; some fiction, some not. Tom and the many mothers are still everywhere.)

Tom, who was black and a returned soldier from the Korean War, used to live with his mother in Orange. He never did get into a decent working live and his request for a land grant was knocked back, as were all other requests from aboriginals in those post Korean War days. Tom could not even get a beer in a pub at that time. He fought as good if not better than most in Korea. He was fearless and when shot in the leg he hobbled on regardless for the next couple of days. Someone finally got him into a hospital. It left him with a gammy leg, a permanent limp.

When he applied for the soldier land grant he was told by the clerk,” bugger off,” “not for you Abos, mate.” Some of his white mates were given the VC’s for less fighting than some of those black ones. Even though Tom could not get into the pub, he managed to get into the grog quite well. He never figured out the one about the land grant refusal, somehow always thought he was part of the land before white men. It did not make much sense, but then again, so much did not make sense. Black fellas got killed in the war more than Australians, yet they were never rewarded for bravery. They weren’t even citizens.  That’s why Tom also did not get a pension. He  never understood the problem, no matter how often he asked himself or others.

His mum kept telling him “keep your nose clean, stay away from grog.” He only kept the first part but loved those brooding dark long- necks. Over time they rewarded him more than anything, even though it was of short duration. Each bottle set up the need for the next one. Tom drifted off to Sydney, camping along Salt Pan Creek at Herne Bay. He used to do short spurts of work, became an itinerant rabbito. In the evening he joined his mob on the creek, stewed up the left- over rabbits with pumpkins. The grog was also part of his mob. Many were returned soldiers but never shared in the spirit of Anzac, not a single medal. There was just this wrong kind of spirit; better than nothing at times.

Tom just idled along but somehow never got the thing about the returned soldier’s Land Grant out of his head. He would have liked to have been able to raise horses on the couple of hundred acres that so many white soldiers got after the return from Korea. Not being a citizen was a puzzle that never got solved, especially not when his days became more and more endured in an alcoholic daze. He used to pinch his arm, “yes, I am a person and am alive”, “how come I am not a citizen.” “What’s a citizen?” Apparently, anyone but a black fella.

He went back to Orange and lived with his mother who put up with his now deeply entrenched need for grog. He would be charged over and over again with drunken behaviour, disorderly behaviour, pissing up against the rosemary at the Town’s returned soldier’s memorial with the bronze inscribed names of so many brave but white souls.  White souls, the lot of them, and all dead but still regarded true citizens. All their wives and mothers were receiving pensions.

Tom’s mother was just scraping by with the help of uncles and aunties and assorted relatives, all without pensions. “We are from the Wiradjuri people; we lived here well before any white man.”  “Your grandmother use to grow seeds around here and we were the first gardeners,” she told Tom.

The coppers got fed up with Tom. It was too much. The Order was read out by the Magistrate; “Pursuant to Section of the Act, I am satisfied that Tom is an Inebriate within the meaning of the 1912 Act and hereby Order the Inebriate to be placed in a licensed institute for the remainder of his life”, or, till he is deemed cured. The chief constable with a grin on his face led Tom downstairs to his fate. Tom mused on the stairs down; am I now a citizen?

Tom was taken to the inebriate section of the mental hospital in Orange where he spent the rest of his life. He wasn’t even told of his mother’s death. In 1968 he finally became an Australian citizen and had his pension regularly paid out to the Institute. Tom did not get better nor did he ever find out why he was not a citizen before 1968. Over thirty percent of the inmates were aboriginals. Tom died in 1974.

Keywords: Orange, Korean War, Aboriginal, Korea, Sydney, Herne Bay, Anzac, Land Grant, alcoholism, Wiragjuri, inebriate

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