the ’sham

This is one of those days where I really meander. It’s not that I don’t have an intention to do something specific, it’s just that my lack of forward planning means that it doesn’t work out the way I imagine. Instead, other things happen, the changing of the plan leaves me open to the time being filled with other adventures.

In this case, I wander up to the Metropolitan Community Church, and head off on a digression about the history of the Mastertouch Pianola Roll Factory, which had occupied the site for ages before the MCC took it on.

In this historical vein, Anthony from the Bottlo fills me in on a few snippets of local (New Canterbury Road) history.

Listen in to the podcast here [3mb, 7 min, mp3].

Read the original posting here.

In a shower of serendipity, Heather showed up at the Big Brekkie this morning. I’ve been wanting to do a recording of the episode in which I met her and Tully outside Sweet Belem, and was hoping to meet up with Tully to do it. Heather’s moved to Canberra, so I didn’t have much hope for her coming along. Heather and her FIANCE’(!) Dave came over and we recorded the episode which features us playing frisbee in the park and turning cartwheels at the bowling club. I also go and visit Lucy from north Petersham in this one.

Listen in here [11mb, 24min, mp3]
Read the original here.

This is the very popular entry in which Sunny, Luciana, Wolfie and I go rollerskating at the (defunct) Majestic Roller Rink. Plenty of comments from readers excited about the possibility of having events in there. No shortage of entrepreneurial party-makers keen for an unusual venue, which is great, and no shortage, either, of frustration about the way that public liability insurance has changed our lives.

Listen here. (15 min, 14mb, mp3)

Read the original post (with images too!) over here.

I’ve been meaning to write about these guys for ages! A local activist blog in my very own street - trying to stop the “rat-run” traffic down Audley:

We are residents of Audley Street who are angry about the increasing numbers of motorists using our street as a short cut. We’re sick of traffic jams outside our doors in the mornings. We’re sick of the noise. We’re sick of the pollution. We’re concerned about our kids’ safety.
We believe in trying to bring about some changes that will benefit not just the residents, but the suburb.

Now, I must say, this rat run business is news to me. I’m so close to Canterbury Road that I don’t think the pollution fallout in my backyard would be affected by closing Audley. And I haven’t really noticed Audley Street being particularly congested…But maybe I’ve got my head in the clouds?

I’ve been more concerned about:
1. The amount of obnoxious four wheel drives who park all up and down Chester street to fetch their chicken from the Portuguese Chicken shop (and sometimes there’s even ROAD RAGE over the rare parking spots!!)
2. The garbage left lining our gutters after said four wheel drivers have had their fill (they eat in-vehicle and dump the trash before driving away!)

But I’m not sure how council could change that.

Egad, I sound more like a grumpy old man each day.

Anyhow, the Audley St Closure crew organised a Street Meeting on 9 September. Not being able to go along, I’ve emailed ‘em to find out how it went. Will let ya know…

Finally, the moons line up and I’m in the right place at the right time. Manuel only comes in on Tuesdays to the travel agency. The girl at the desk says he’s definitely the right person to talk to if I want to hear a Portuguese story. Manuel is attending to what looks like an old and loyal customer. I wait for a little while, thumbing through the package tours to New Zealand and Tasmania. These tours seems uniquely unappealing to me. Thousands of dollars blown in a fortnight where your every move is circumscribed. And what’s more, you have to pay a “singles supplement” as a punishment for not having a travelling companion!

Manuel waves me over. “So, why me?” he teases. “Why me?” And before I can answer, he launches into a long joke about a famous football player who also asks “Why me?”, when there’s a stadium full of eighty thousand fans, not to mention twenty two footballers and two referees. I wont spoil it by revealing the punchline. If you pass by on a Tuesday you might be able to hear it for yourself.
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Instead of the Oxford Tavern, there’s an op-shop on the corner of Crystal and New Canterbury. Standing outside the shop is a cardboard removalist box. It’s full of rejected clothing, that even the op-shop itself doesn’t want. I pull up on my bike. Surely there’s something in here that can be salvaged. Standing casually, smoking a cigarette next to the box is the barber from The Locals Barber Shop. He laughs and says he’s been thinking the same thing about this box. We rummage through it together. It contains old crimplene dresses that are nearly interesting, but with patterns we just don’t quite like. At the bottom of the box is a eighties silk suit, brand new, still on the hanger. “What about this one?” he asks. I consider it. It has a peach and brown design, more brown than peach. It’s almost passable. He lifts it out so we can look more closely. On the back, the pattern changes from an angular abstract motif to a predominantly peach colour scheme, in fake Aboriginal dots and squiggles. We don’t need to say anything. Back it goes in the bottom of the box. Now we understand.

Just after two, Reuben arrived. I was checking my lettuces. Some of them have been eaten by snails. They’re so vulnerable in that way.

I made us coffee, and while we were drinking it, I proposed we make the flan/pudim which has been the focus of much speculation lately.

Inside the cardboard box was a tiny sachet containing a pinkish powder. We emptied it into a bowl, added what seemed to be a lot of sugar, then a drizzle of milk to make a runny paste. Immediately, the powder mixture turned the colour of egg yolk. But at least it dissolved pretty well. When the milk was hot enough on the stove, Reuben trickled in the paste while I stirred and took a photo. It began to look like custard, and took on a kind of eggy smell. We poured the resulting solution into two round takeaway containers, whacked em in the fridge, and went out for a walk.
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On Wednesday night Bec came home late from work. We watched a bit of TV together. On Lateline, there was a report about the booming price of petrol. It’s now pushing $1.40 a litre, and there was the treasurer, looking somewhat amazed that the hike in transport costs hasn’t really resulted (yet) in a general lift in inflation. “So far, so good,” he said to the camera.
Bec: “We really are going to run those oil supplies down to nothing before we start thinking about different energy sources, aren’t we?”
Me: “Well, it’s just human nature. For instance, in theory it should not be difficult for us to predict when we are going to run out of toilet paper or washing powder at home. But we always do, we run em down to nothing and then there’s a minor crisis before we get around to doing anything about it. The oil issue is more or less the same thing on a larger scale…”

Sure enough, yesterday, my dirty clothes were piled high in the basket, and my stubble was moving from “designer” to “vagrant”. There was nothing for it. It was time for a visit to the chemist. I got washing powder and shaving cream. To show how highly evolved I am, I even splashed out on toilet paper, although we still have a roll and a half to go.
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Jasmin called me several weeks ago to discuss the ’sham project. She said I should expect various levels of jealousy about what I am doing here. I get to stay at home, mooch around, take some time out. It’s like a holiday at home. It’s like being a tourist in your own town. Not to mention the inevitable “but is it really art?” etc etc.

I was surprised. I guess I hadn’t thought much beyond the confines of my own list-of-things-to-do. But notwithstanding the curly question “is it art?” (which I will add to the FAQ’s, and attempt to answer – hopefully with your help - in the near future) I bet yer all gonna be jealous of what I did yesterday!

I rollerskated at the Majestic RollerRink.
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