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Author Archives: Therese Trouserzoff

The Castle – Episode 7 – Terence

04 Friday Apr 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Sandshoe

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

busker, Isobella, The Castle

youth

The Youth

Story and Illustration by Sandshoe

The Castle Episode 6

Two men side by side and another close behind them stepped into the light Isobella and Hugh stepped side by side out of into the dark. Hugh leaped with a cry of alarm. He had not recognised his friends. The latecomers made their apologies. “At least you turned up,” Hugh said to them. They stood as a group. “Didn’t matter. I had a book. I met my friend, Isobella,”

Terence , the straggler, his hair roughly cut, his fair skin weathered and feet bare, guitar secured around his back so the neck of the guitar reared upward behind his own. He was dressed in shorts and a light cotton shirt as if it was the middle of summer.

He walked directly up to Isobella.

“Who are you?” When she told him her name and he told her his, he prefaced his identity, “He’s my brother.”.He pointed to the taller of the two men talking with Hugh. “ That’s Matthias. I’m going to marry his sister, but she is not allowed.” They expressly shared surnames.

“Aren’t you cold,” Hugh insisted of Terence. Hugh wore a brown corduroy coat with jeans of sturdy quality, a scarf and a cloth cap.

Everybody it seemed was going to walk with Isobella up the hill to her office. She was invited to go on with them after she was finished. They would wait.

“You can’t do that. I’ll be too long. I can’t let you into the office anyway.”

No-one was waiting to allow her entry as she supposed at the base of her work place building on Symonds Street. Matthias was amiable they would wait. She found the public phone in working order. The telephone rang out. She doubted anybody was there in the office above her. She sensed duplicity.

Quiet Jack was their other companion. He asked if she always worked there late at night. “No,” she said simply.

“Homeless people live under the bridge.” Quiet Jack was softly spoken. She could barely hear him. *Yes,” she said.

The men asked if she had a key. They were designing solutions. If she did not have a key, they would stand on each other’s shoulders and make a human ladder to the window of the third floor address.

“You wave through the window.”

One Saturday morning she told them as rejoinder she locked herself in the stairwell at the newspaper. She exited the hatch door to the rooftop and when she waved to alert the construction crew on a neighbouring building that she needed help, they gathered, waved, and wolf whistled.

They urged her to go with them. She referenced her policy was zero alcohol on the road. Matthias, tall and thin and beautiful in the black of this night would drive. “He never drinks,” Terence told Isobella, close, respectful. Matthias was shivering. They had better walk, Isobella said. Hugh was deciding to not go. He walked back along the street with them a short distance only to where he turned down an adjoining laneway. The rest stood quietly watching him. Hugh turned. He waved silently. His companions waved and he stepped out of sight into a building. He was going to visit a student’s share unit and play Dungeons and Dragons. Isobella spoke up that she would like to accept the invitation.

Matthias was sorry they had to walk to the very end of the University where he left his car. In this moment, time held a magic proportion and might describe each to the other for they would never know themselves, the poignancy of experience of youth we only see as ‘others’. They chorused they were happy to be with him. We adore.

The Busker was walking towards them. He accepted his invitation to join their party. They were all friends. Matthias was looking after another friend’s address who was away he explained. Matthias lived at home with his mother and his sister usually, Terence said to Isobella. Terence, Quiet Jack, Matthias and the Busker asked after each other as they walked.

Matthias of rare beauty, adviser, philosopher. In a long sleeve white shirt, luminate and open at the neck and body-thin black jeans, light in a silver line gave way to him in a strobe effect out of dark and into light, in and out of pools of light outside the entrances to buildings . Terence announced it was a mistake he was not chosen as his friend’s brother-in-law. He was not wanted. He accepted that status as error. Nothing was personal sleight between close friends.

Once they were in the car, Matthias describing the lay of this land was courteous and animated. The Busker spoke of their journey as mythical. The travellers witnessed on their approach to the Mangere Bridge a massive light cone beamed skywards that was the headlight beam only of a single car at its crest . With no stars when it passed and the low cloud cover wreathing the harbour, the view was of a black reach.

Matthias at the gate greeted two raucous dogs out of his vehicle window. He released them from their run. They waited noiselessly to be fed under an external light at the back of the house. Isobella, shivering now, was bundled in a quilt and directed to the lounge couch by Matthias. She had come down with a cold. Terence, attentive, lit a fire in a wood heating stove that warmed the lounge. “There is a lovely tree of lemons out there,” he encouraged Isobella, “Lemons cure everything.” Matthias insisted he, Matthias, make the hot lemon drink. He asked Terence to play some music.

“I’ll talk”, Terence retorted and sat down on the floor by the couch, “I’ve been playing all day. I want to talk to Isobella.” The Busker wrapped around his waist in a white towel was already out of a shower he asked Matthias for permission to take. He scurried for clothes he had forgotten to take with him out of his back pack left under a table in the living room. Quiet Jack had responded to a call from Matthias for someone to help him at the run gate that needed a repair. He made himself a place on the floor with a cushion. He made room for The Busker to dry in front of the fire box. The Busker excused himself. Returning in loose cotton clothing and the full heat of a sparking fire catching lights off red and grey strands in his beard and hair, he stood staring at the flames in introspection. Where could he sit, he asked, smiling. He found a bean bag. Matthias came in with a tray. He had made a hot lemon drink for each of them. He sat in his easy armchair.

Isobella would stay with him, Matthias announced to the room in the form of an assembly. The friends nodded assent to Matthias and he would cook her a meal in the evening. Did she want anything to eat now, he asked. No, she shook her head. He loped out of the armchair and returned to her from somewhere with track pants and their pull over with a pair of thick knitted socks. He helped her to stand up out of the quilt. Behind the door of the bathroom where she changed, he had left hangers for her clothes. She was wearing a white cotton shirt, she stared at and ladies’ black cotton trousers. She struggled out of the trousers to change them. She saw the strobe effect of a white shirt in a darkened street and the silver line. Her narrow black tie she knotted around the collar of her suit coat and the coat seemed incongruous. The coat waist length not a weighted woollen overcoat, she felt the coat hanger weight drop away from her hand and test her strength as she struggled to lift the coat to secure it on its hook behind the door.

The Busker had played a simple piping tune on a recorder. “Fiddlesticks,” he said at a private joke, “Got that wrong.” He smiled with the knowing of familiarity. “Go on,” he said to Terence giving him the floor. Terence had picked up his guitar that was never far from him. Each song was new to her. They were his songs and he played an accompaniment that was raw, impulsive. She remembered later some of the words of the songs and had lost recall of context. When Isobella awoke the next morning to the sound of a clock alarm, she was alone in the house.

The World That Barnet Built

01 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Warrigal Mirriyuula

≈ 32 Comments

Tags

architect, Bathurst Court House, Bathurst Gaol, Carcoar Court House, Cowra Court House, Dubbo Court House, Forbes Court House, Forbes Post and Telegraph Office, Forbes Town Hall, James Barnett, Molong Court House, Orange Court House, Orange Post and Lands Office, St Paul the Apostle Church Carcoar, Young Court House

James Barnett, 1888

James Barnet, 1888

This photograph is for study purposes only

 Story and Photographs by Warrigal Mirriyuula

In December 1854 James Barnet, a native Scot from Arbroath, landed in Sydney and set himself up as a builder in Glebe. The business prospered and within 11 years he had succeeded his mentor Edmund Blacket as Colonial Architect. He was 37 years old and in the next 25 years he achieved more than he might ever have imagined.

Some of his achievements made a lasting impression on me as I wondered, as boys will, about why it was that the Orange Courthouse looked so much a courthouse. I knew nothing of Barnet then, but this local, familiar building always caught my eye. It remains today my favourite Barnet Courthouse. The Classical design is so balanced, so well resolved. The masses and proportions in a near perfect harmony that even Pericles would admire.

Orange Court House (c) Central Western D aily - w1200_h678_fmax

 Orange Court House, 1883. Architect James Barnet

 As I grew up I began to recognise buildings through out the Central West of NSW that seemed to be related in some way. They were often public buildings like town halls, post and telegraph offices and court houses and they began to define something in my mind; the notion of Victorian Civic Pride; the idea that for a young nation to aspire to credibility amongst the great nations of the world it needed the underpinnings of the rule of law, democratic action and communications. It needed to display the high regard it held for these things, these institutions of state legitimacy, and so within a few decades of the first settlement of the lands west of the divide, these buildings began popping up everywhere. The curious thing is that many of them were built when there was little else surrounding them. Many of the towns and villages they served had yet to develop what we might now recognise as a civic centre. These buildings stood for a time alone, like the recently arrived aliens they were, surrounded by mud or dust, slab cut huts, corrugated iron and cheap bricks, representing the hope for a future that had yet to come into being.

Orange PO and Lands Office Orange Post & Lands Office, James Barnet 1885. This stuccoed brick PO still stands as handsome as ever, however more recent street plantings have almost completely obscured the entire building with foliage.

 It was many years later that I finally learned that the buildings that caught my eye, made me wonder, where all designed by the one architect, James Johnstone Barnet; and it was one of his earlier buildings that had started the whole thing off.

MolongCourtHouse-(c)Pedro23-Fotki

Molong Court House (Now the Molong Police Station). James Barnet 1862

The Molong Courthouse, designed by Barnet prior to his elevation to Colonial Architect, is a modest building lacking any complex embellishment save a simple Classical pediment and vent and cornices on the chimneys. It is built from local limestone rubble masonry with dressed or rendered quoins, door and window frames, yet when it first opened for business in 1862 it would have been the most imposing building in Molong. It was still imposing the morning Dad had to drop in there when I was a little tacker. I think I might have sat on that form on the verandah while Dad entered inside. Whatever was going on in there was a deep mystery to me but, given the building, it had to be important and sitting on that form was not dissimilar to waiting outside the Principal’s office at school. Originally it was surrounded by a white picket fence.

The Molong Court House wasn’t alone in staking claim to a future grandeur not yet in evidence. There was another set of these bijou masterpieces in Carcoar, just a few miles away; though Carcoar, like Molong, never did grow in the way it was thought it might. The railway eventually followed a different line and Carcoar fell from second biggest town west of the mountains after Bathurst, to a village of just over 200 people today. Well worth visiting still, if just for the colonial era architecture and a particularly fine Devonshire Tea at the café across the street from the courthouse.

The Carcoar courthouse with its clockless clock tower displays the balance that so characterises Barnet’s best work. Once again he employs the Italianate. The tower is so relaxed in the composition of masses that the absence of a clock seems almost appropriate, literally imbuing the building with a timeless quality. I suppose the clock was going to be installed later, but that later never came.

Carcoar_Court_House_001 corrected Carcoar Court House, James Barnet 1882

 It’s of interest to note that this Italianate Barnet courthouse replaced a smaller, much simpler Neo Gothic courthouse dating from1842. Carcoar is further architecturally interesting in that it has another building that, along with Barnet’s courthouse, illustrates a stylistic transition from the Neo Gothic to The Italianate, and the type examples are by succeeding Colonial Architects, Edmund Blacket and James Barnet.

AUS, NSW, Carcoar, St Paul the Apostle 4St Paul The Apostle, Carcoar, designed by Barnet’s mentor and predecessor Edmund Blacket, displays the neo gothic that so identified Blacket’s best work, including the main quadrangle at Sydney University. (I’d have probably moved the post modern wheelie bins before taking the shot.)

But getting back to Barnet, perhaps the finest example and most complete exposition of his Italianate design palette when it came to country courthouses is the magnificent Bathurst Court House complex, a tour de force opened a few years prior to the Orange Court House.

Bathurst-Courthouse-Pano-2

Bathurst Court House, 1880 by James Barnet

Bathurst also has a fine example of Barnet’s contribution to the other side of the law. The imposing portal to Bathurst Gaol is every inch the intimidating gateway to a world wherein all hope must be given up.

Bathurst Gaol

The Main Portal and Deputy Governor’s Residence, now the administration building, Bathurst Gaol, James Barnett 1888

Architects describe this portal as an excellent example of the Victorian Mannerist, though I particularly like its lack of manners. It’s an unashamedly intimidating bully, sure of its power to suppress and punish miscreants. The slits cut into the sandstone masonry façade suggest unseen armed guards might protect the portal and that even venturing up that short road without legitimate purpose might end very badly indeed. As ever the Imperial Lion snarls atop the gate, a key firmly between its fierce teeth: Subtext: The Victorians didn’t like crooks and punishment was meant to be just that, unrelentingly punishing.

These Barnet buildings are all over NSW and to the west of Orange, the early gold town of Forbes celebrated its prosperity with a very fine Barnet collection including both a handsome Post Office and a more modest Courthouse that successfully suggests that justice may after all be measured in the more democratic aspirations of the common people and not be the exclusive domain of the wealthy and connected.

 OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAForbes Town Hall on the left, (George McKinnon 1890-1) and The Post and Telegraph Office on the right (James Barnet 1881). Note the acknowledgement between the buildings which both look out to a park surrounded by many fine buildings creating a substantial and attractive civic precinct, which includes another Barnet courthouse.

I first noticed these buildings back in the sixties when I attended a brass band competition in the Forbes Town Hall. I recall standing in the park and admiring them, though at that time they were all in a state of resigned dilapidation, peeling paint, cracked and missing stucco, and it seemed they might all disappear for lack of appreciation. Happily since then they have all been lavished with unstinting restorations, which as you can see from the image below continues to this day.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

 Forbes Court House James Barnet 1880

The lack of ostentation and the simplicity of composition are the Forbes courthouse’s most attractive qualities and it is still used as a courthouse today.

Over the years I’ve travelled extensively throughout country NSW and found Barnet buildings in many villages, towns and cities but it’s the buildings shown here that I’ve come to see as part of me, a sense of having grown up watched over by these buildings, and they have contributed in no small part to my sense of belonging to the country, the bush.

For most of us the built environment is just the backdrop to our everyday lives, a stage on which we play out our hopes and frustrations, but these buildings have an almost metaphysical presence for me. They were the courthouses where injustices were, and are still, made right, the town halls where we decided as a community which of our aspirations we would follow, the post offices where we communicated with loved ones across the country or even across the seas. For me they are mixed metaphors; at once the anchors that held us in place and also the wings on which we flew, and thus they have become elements in my “Spirit of Place”, my sense of belonging and identity. There can be no greater accolade for an architect.

Dubbo_CourthouseDubbo Courthouse, James Barnet 1887 and still used as a courthouse today.

 

 

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAYoung Courthouse, James Barnet 1886 This High Victorian Classical building is now a school assembly hall, so no doubt Barnet still has the power to mould the young mind.

Cowra Court House

Cowra Court House

Cowra Courthouse, James Barnet 1880 with extensions and renovations by Barnet’s successor, Government Architect Walter Liberty Vernon 1909.

Given Vernon’s overlaid renovations this does not look so much a Barnet courthouse but it still displays that simple balance of masses that Vernon’s additions and Federation/Anglo Dutch/Arts and Crafts decoration could not disguise. Indeed I suspect that Vernon knew a good thing when he saw it and his additions acknowledge the best of the earlier Barnet building.

Given Vernon’s overlaid renovations this does not look so much a Barnet courthouse but it still displays that simple balance of masses that Vernon’s additions and Federation/Anglo Dutch/Arts and Crafts decoration could not disguise. Indeed I suspect that Vernon knew a good thing when he saw it and his additions acknowledge the best of the earlier Barnet building.

While Barnet designed many more buildings, over 600 in fact, including 130 courthouses, and many of his buildings display an impressive magnificence, including my favourite pile of Pyrmont sandstone, the resplendent Renaissance revival Lands Office on Bridge Street in Sydney, it has always been his country buildings that have captured me and I’m particularly fond of his country courthouses. They may not be his most difficult or most impressive work but to my mind they are his most human, creating a levelling link between these rough hewn early settlements with their hope for a bigger future, and the great world beyond; in essence providing a solid and enduring symbol of the unity and common purpose shared by all of the people of the colony and it may not be too long a bow to suggest that the operation of these buildings, their success as social machines through time, contributed in no small way to Federation and the dawning of Australian nationhood.

Post Script

A little Googling will turn up all manner of Barnet results and it’s surprising how prolific he was. The above examples of his work are just a taste. His buildings are literally everywhere. Goulburn particularly has a number of very fine Barnet buildings, as well as others by Colonial and Government Architects Blacket, Vernon and Lewis, but I’ve not included them here because I didn’t become familiar with them until much later. They were not part of my boyhood scene. Indeed Goulburn deserves a piece all to itself , which I may get round to when time permits.

Quick Six

31 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Bands at the Pig's Arms

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

Billy Bragg, Bjork, Debbie Harry, Nouvelle Vague, Shorley Brown, the Beards, White Shoes & the Couples Company

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

quick six

 

Short Playlist by Algernon

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6xDd-BvClH8

 

No one knows nothing anymore – Billy Bragg

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7kR-Z8HUI0

 

Who is Betty – Shirley Brown

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RmFnarFSj_U

 

If Your Dad Doesn’t have a beard, you’ve got to mums – The Beards

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DOxwO9WMWi0

 

Kisa Dari Selatan Jakarta – White Shoes & the Couples Company

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aH3x1PSYcm8

 

Making plans for Nigel – Nouvelle Vague

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26sP2WsA5cY

 

Hyperballad – Bjork

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt0mJDzTbyo

 

Ghost Riders in the Sky – Debbie Harry

 

The Castle – Episode 6: Drinking Tea in a Cafe.

25 Tuesday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Sandshoe

≈ 31 Comments

Tags

busker, Christina Binning Wilson, park

Claude Debussy’s Prelude to The Afternoon of a Faun.

 

Park

The Park

Story and Illustration by ‘Shoe.

The Busker threw open a door he called it. His eyes had darted side to side.

“You’ll lose your job. Everybody will. The end will come. It’ll all fall down. I’ve got a room for you where I live. It’s next to mine. Let me know.” He leaned his head half sideways and peered at her. His eyes were pin point darts in a flood of light from passing traffic.

“Capitalism.” He made an intense yukking noise that was guttural laughter and rocked from side to side on his stiffly extended legs. His folded arms hugged his chest.

They met when she still worked at the newspaper. They were workers. She knew him sight unseen  first. She heard the powerful sound of a raucous guitar and then his voice. He was playing an intersection. Night street lights flicked on. Street lighting was minimal. Some shop fronts showed no light. She stopped to drop a coin into his opened guitar case.

“Mark,” he said over the music. Yukk yukk.

“See you at 7,” he said the day his eyes darting they finally agreed they could meet and have coffee and cake if she wanted. He confided the address as if it was a front to a clandestine organisation. A haunt of down-and up-beats, a group of regular students playing Dungeons and Dragons, stayers commingling with models of insolence, young men or young women in single pairs or as alone and still as sculpture.

The Busker waved her over. He stood up from a bench seat at a long table. He was rocking and bounced towards her. He might off walls. Hair sprang free from between his fingers like wire as he grabbed and ran the length of his beard through his right hand. She was ushered.

“This one. Isobella Celente. Warren. We call him Hood. Isobella. Peter. We call him Peach. This Rita. Isobella. Georges.”

He was tapping his feet methodically. He introduced her to each of the customers at the table. The least hesitation he demanded response.

“She’s new here. Look after her.”

“Sure”. That was Georges in a grubby leather vest over a black t-shirt full of holes and his jeans legs folded into cuffs. He returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea sans milk he put down in front of where she sat next to him. “Gnome,” he said, “Call me Gnome. It’s ordinary the tea. Not fancy. Milk costs more.” His hands were soft and dirt under his fingernails was evident. The Busker made the yukking sound that was laughter meaning he was pleased. He thanked Gnome for his care.

“Does anybody want a tea,” he added. A murmur in the negative went the table length. He showed Isabella she could buy a slice of toast with a cup of tea. A well dressed man in a shining silver-grey suit came in and spoke to The Busker over their shoulders. He departed in a chorus of protest.

“That’s Reuben. He’s a bounce. He’s our friend.”

People came and left The Busker said were friends. When the others who were in that close company left that night, Isabella stayed to while time away. She was expected at midnight in her new office on Symonds only a quick climb up a grassed terrace and an adjacent park. Queen is the arterial heart of the city of Auckland from the wharf and its Harbour to K’ Road at its upper end. Symonds on its ridge that butts K’road and runs to the west through an older section was a literal High Street above it and a financial district of its own was consolidating in competition. A deregulated system was acting out a local land grab and assets battle. A nouveau riche risked money and these streets like careless fire.

A young man reading at one of the tables put down his book and came over. He offered to buy her a cup of tea. She agreed. They talked and drank tea with lemon slices they squeezed juice from no milk. He draped a satchel over his shoulder, hooking it with a grasp of fingers and gathered newspaper he handed to one remaining patron at another table. He announced he was going her way. Safer the two of us if you trust me and am I safe myself. The park was not lit. He was Hugh. She introduced herself. He had expected friends. They’re not coming. Isobella walked with him happy for the company. They crossed the exterior paving and street between the café and the dark city Art Gallery to access the edge of the park. He expected his friends to have come that night to play Dungeons and Dragons. Will we be safe walking up through this park he asked her did she think as they walked into its enclosure of sweet calm and only black shaping. The moon had no purchase on the park that night.

Sitting Alone on an Autumn Night

24 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Uncategorized

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Wang Wei

Misty-Mountains-Great-Photography-nature-awesomeness

Photo borrowed from meemes.com

I sit alone sad at my whitening hair

Waiting for ten o’clock in my empty house

In the rain the hill fruits fall

Under the lamp grasshoppers sound

White hairs will never be transformed

That elixir is beyond creation

To eliminate decrepitude

Study the absolute.

Wang Wei (?701-761)

TR. G.W. Robinson

in Zen Poems, Selected and Edited by Peter Harris, Longman, P53.

Spaghetti Westerns

24 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Bands at the Pig's Arms

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Ennio Morricone, For a Few Guitars More, Spaghetti Westerns

spag westerns

A rare find from Algernon

The album, For a Few guitars More, is a modern interpretation of the soundtracks composed by Ennio Morricone. The album was produced in 2002. Unfortunately not all tracks on that album are available on Youtube, so I’ve mostly listed soundtracks from the movies.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLBC39006DE4AE2782

For a Few Guitars More

This should open to a youtube channel, click on the large icon next “For a Few Guitars more” and it will play continuously or click on each individual listing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8VjN73Xj4ns

The Great Silence

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIgNCD3nzOg

Once upon a time in the West

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Th-r8rwW3EU

Farewell to Cheyenne

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS2-CktchfM

As a Judgement

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpZjvbSC9_M

For a Fistful of Dollars

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFtmdorQG-U

Sixty seconds of what

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6IJKSsJVds

The Big Gundown

 

 

 

Sinister Demons

20 Thursday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Emmjay

≈ 98 Comments

Tags

Arturo Sinister Demons, Assistant Treasurer, Eddie O'Bad, Federal Senator, ICAC, IPECAC

sino

Story by a Hairy Dog that lives at Emmjay’s Place

The too-familiar sound of a large black limo crushing the gravel in the Pig’s Arms carpark rang through the front bar and sent a chill up the spines of the assembled bludgers watching a re-run of Roman Polanski’s Chinatown (starring Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway).

There was the otherwise reassuring thunk-thunk of german steel as two of the behemoth’s doors slammed shut and a short, stout balding man in a dark grey suit strode across the forecourt and through the main door of the pub.

“All right” he announced to the punters – who were reluctant to accept a disruption at that crucial point when Polanski, doing a cameo of some minor punk, inserts his shiv into Jake Gittoes’ left nostril and does a little freelance plastic surgery.

“ALL RIGHT” the grey man repeated,”Where the fuck is Eddie ?”

Merv and the punters had been startled, not by the try-harding grand standing short, fat grey man, but by the geyser of claret that had sprung from Jack Nicholson’s nose when the stiletto did its worst.  They were all taking a sympathy sip to calm their nerves and nobody had paid much attention to the short, fat, and (did I mention ?) grey man.

“I SAID …..”

“Yeah, we know what you said” said Hung, in his best DILLIGAF[1] impression.

“Do you know who I am ?” inquired the short, fat, balding grey man (SFBGM)

“Reuben F Scarf ?” guessed Hung.

“WHAT ?” said the SFBGM. “I said, Reuben F Scarf” said Hung. “The name on the inside pocket of your suit”.

A round of horse laughing circled the front bar, but the SFBGM wasn’t amongst the punters enjoying the leg pull.

“Look, mate, nobody gives a stuff who you are, but you’re still welcome in the Pig’s Arms” said Merv.

“This is Arturo Sinister Demons” said a swarthy chap redolent of dolmades and aged falafels, who had suddenly appeared and taken the SBFGM’s back.

“Will you guys save it for the commercial break?” said Hung. “Jack Nicholson’s just fished another one out of the reservoir”.

“Well, how about that !” said Voice.  “Mr Sinister Demons knows a thing or two about the water game too”

“And he knows what it’s like to have a taste of IPECAC” added Merv, who had finally joined the dots.

“Unusual for Federal Senators to front IPECAC” added Voice.  “And Assistant Treasurers”, said Hung.  “Even more unusual to have a family tree that grows in the shade of Johnny the Rodent and has roots right across to Eddie O’Bad on the other side !”

Sinister Demons was not well pleased.  He smashed his silver-handled cane on the bar and said “For the last time, where the fuck is Eddie ?”

“He’s moved in across the road next to Rosie’s Tattoo Emporium and House of Pain” said Merv.  But before Sinister Demons could turn on his heel and bust through the front door, Merv added “But you won’t find him there”.

Demons stood about an inch and a half away from Merv and said through gnashing teeth “Well, WHERE will I find him ?”

“One of the Cook’s River Sea Scouts found him floating in the drink, face up this morning.  That is, what was left of his face was up” Said Hung”.

“Make mine a pint” said Demons and shot a look around the bar like the cat that had just scored all the cream. “And a pink drink for Ian when he gets here”.


[1] DILLIGAF – do I look like I give a fuck

McManus

15 Saturday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon

≈ 42 Comments

Tags

Bruce Springsteen, David Grohl, David Sexsmith, Diana Krall, Elvis Costello, James Taylor, Kris Kristofferson, Lou Reed, Mumford & Sons, Rosanne Cash, Steve van Zandt, Willie Nelson

mcmanus x 2

 

 

 

 

 

Playlist by Algernon

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5BnCEPr7cU

Crazy – Diana Krall, Elvis Costello and Willie Nelson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFxtQqcW60A

Watching the Detectives, Walking on the Moon, Sunshine of your love – Elvis Costello & The Police

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1QldW82xzQ

London Calling  – Elvis Costello, Bruce Springsteen, David Grohl & Steve Van Zandt

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cldEvQP_igA

April 5th – Elvis Costello, Rosanne Cash, Kris Kristofferson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-erIxtryF3w

Crying in the Rain – Elvis Costello and James Taylor

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XH5TTnUh9oc

You Really got a hold on me – Elvis Costello and Smoke Robinson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfYU_xNAvNg

Makin Whoopee – Diana Krall, Elton John and Elvis Costello

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrCtc6DJ-EY

I’ve Got the World on a String – Diana Krall and Tony Bennett

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7sxK8ghb9PU

Walk on By -Diana Krall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S4hPii_RVHE

Cry me a River –Diana Krall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=usH4nVyy9A4

Boy from Ipanema – Diana Krall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NmrVOuMVvGM

You don’t know me – Diana Krall and Ray Charles

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruxKIOiISis

Sorry seems to be the hardest word – Diana Krall and Elton John

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tA2BjakmejM

Perfect Day –Elvis Costello and Lou Reed

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgYO3Se-VHk

Every Day I write the Book – Elvis Costello and David Sexsmith

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yr8xDSPjII8

The Look of Love – Diana Krall

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCykaPjrCWE

I’ll never fall in love again – Elvis Costello

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Idt8wqSSeE

The Ghost of Tom Joad – Elvis Costello and Mumford & Sons

Garage

09 Sunday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Algernon, Bands at the Pig's Arms

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

Paul Revere and the Raiders, Question Mark and the Mysterians, Starfire, the Astronauts, The Atlantics, the Brogues, the Heard, the Pleasure Seekers, The Shag, the Spiders, the Trashmen, the Troggs, The Velvet Underground, Tommy James and the Shondells

Bardwell Park Garage

Bardwell Park Garage

Playlist by Algernon

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

The Shag – Stop and Listen

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6-RoSd4pLc

The Starfire – I never loved her

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YK-FzlxZdJU

The Brogues – Ain’t no miracle worker

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8cm3solF6K4

The Atlantics  – Come On

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YY03qCXUMFI

The Heard –Stop it baby

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lb0GTvxOlL8

The Spiders – Boom Boom

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHbcU5ArqBQ

The Astronauts – Baja

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hg4FvOi-N18

The Sandals – The theme from The Endless summer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hAXfmnImjg

The Velvet Underground – I love you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IP8G4clUJBY

Paul Revere and the Raiders – Kicks

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-kVFfKezVo

The Electric Prunes – I had too much to dream last night

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Gc4QTqslN4

The Trashmen – Surfin bird

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DK3JtWgtats

The Pleasure seekers – What a way to die

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

Tommy James and the Shondells- I think we’re alone now

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qHX493bB3U

The Troggs – Wild Thing

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7uC5m-IRns

Question Mark and the Mysterians – 96 tears

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNTSk8EsoAM

The Choir – It’s cold outside

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLvBpnaVHE8

Them – Gloria

The Men’s Shed

03 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by Therese Trouserzoff in Gerard Oosterman

≈ 59 Comments

Tags

Aldi bargains, Mens'Sed, Phillips heads

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAStory by Gerard Oosterman*.

“Why don’t you go and visit the men’s shed? You seem to be taking naps all the time. Each time I come down you are asleep. Have you taken your thyroid tablet? I hear that men’s sheds are taking off everywhere. It might help with your gloomy moods. You might meet a nice man.”

This à propos a conversation last week with H when the rain would not stop. The sky was grey. A perfect match for my mood. Yet the day before when the sky was just as grey, I felt ready to tackle the world, I even undertook a trip to Woolies to take advantage of a wine offer. Two bottles for the price of one. It is odd when I know that those sort of offers are just so much scam. Why do I still fall for that? Considering I pride myself on having some business acumen? No wonder their profit was up yet another 16% with mugs like me lurking around.

Shops now sell goods in multiples. Two loaves of bread cheaper than one. Six scissors for the price of two. Even two scissors for one is silly. I can only cut with one pair or eat only one loaf of bread at the time. Alas, consuming has to be sped up, faster, faster and more of it. All of it in vacuum sealed packages that are so hard to open you need secateurs. No worry, three of them for the price of one. We now have two jars of scissors on the kitchen bench with three secateurs.

Aldi’s sells the most mouth-watering packets of tools and tool accessories. I bought a box of Phillip screwdriver heads, not Phillip screwdrivers, no just the heads. Show me a Phillips screw, and boy am I prepared. I have a head for every conceivable Phillips screw. It is nice to be so secure in the world of Phillips screws. I noticed in their latest catalogue there is a special on a box of allen keys as well. Must rush out and get one. One can never have enough allen keys.

I did look up the local men’s shed. It has a kind of spiritual aura about it with the land and shed donated by the help of the local church. The past meetings all recorded on the internet does mention The Lord and other hints of a higher being ready to offer salvation. I am not sure if I haven’t left salvation a bit late but am happy to go to an even better place with even more boxes of exotic screw heads, allen keys, and extra loaves of bread. I suppose for many men heaven could not be much better than a gigantic type of Bunnings Hardware with a Lions club tent of barbecued sausages (with mustard, tom/barbecue sauce) available at any time of the day and night.

I’ll think about joining the men’s club. Their web-side has photos of blokes (the men are called blokes in this shed) busy with making things of wood or metal. There is a smaller shed for blokes with internet problems. I could do with some help with the torture that Windows 8.1 has involved me in. It is so complicated with the screen changing as soon as I move the mouse off-screen. Everything is so much Internet/electric torture and difficult now-a-days.

I feel I need a shed just for my own blokey self. That’s what it has now come to. It would have a divan, a bookshelf and a coffee grinder machine. Perhaps with a bit of ply-wood and my Aldi tools I could fashion a nice little wooden box, paint it an egg-shell beige. I could than think about what I would put in the box.

Perhaps my collection of Phillips screw heads?

Things are looking up!

*  Catch Gez at       http://oosterman.wordpress.com/2014/03/02/the-mens-shed/

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