Oh dear .. Tamala is not used to ‘hanging one on’ .. alcohol is bad, except when abused in the company of good friends, trashy music, and even trashier drag shows. Mental note, ‘Do not make this a habit’ (unless in the company of good friends, trashy music and even trashier drag)
Driving home from Sydney on the weekend with Adam, i rong> was pulled into a breath testing bay by the po-lice. The person in front of me drove in a little hesitantly, when i pulled up the constable leant into my window, and motioning towards the car in front of me said, ‘Yeh .. it WAS an Asian woman’. I will say no more.
The night after Bob Downe i was back up in Sydney again, Saturday the 12th of March. I met up with Marc at Rockdale and we made our way to Paddington, someone needs to remind me that EVERYTIME i go to Sydney the traffic is a nightmare, i guess where i live, i’m pretty lucky that a traffic jam usually only constitutes two cars bumper to bumper, but up there in Sydney travelling 10 klms’ can take you 3/4 of an hour.
Finding a park up there was another drama altogether, the world is starting to feel a little crowded to me. We met up with Australias answer to the ‘Weeping woman’ Beryl, making our way to the Chauvel cinema it was nice to be reminded that not all cinemas are monster multiplex’s, there are still some lovely and charming independant theatres around, in the lobby we ran into an old friend (mother) Warren, i’m not entirely sure he was totally over Mardi Gras.
Walking into the cinema i spotted a huge poster for the movie ‘Forty thousand horsemen’, this took my eye, as years ago, when he was very young, my dad actually appeared in this film. i remember him telling me how he had to run up one side of a hill dressed as a ‘goody’, then they would change clothes and run down the other side of the hill as a ‘baddie’.
The movie we were there to watch tonight was called ‘The hidden history of homosexual Australia’. I love history and wish that i’d chosen to study that instead of ‘Asian social studies’ .. i mean, what IS that!!??, but i digress. This documentary is one that any Queer Aussie should watch, and i’ wish they would play this in schools. It was really interesting to see an Aussie slant on our local gay culture, instead of being fed European and American gay history. Some of the moivie was pretty sobering, and a lot of it scarey, just the thought that only twenty
years ago homosexuality was decriminalised in New South Wales. To see the oppresession and fear that the community lived under relatively recently was unnerving, and lets not the forget the cruel and brutal coppers, and twisted politicians. The most sobering part of the movie was when they discussed how some people had been jailed for many years for being gay, and that they had been incarcerated in Darlinghurst Jail, which is now a college, but it struck me that this old Jail was only a couple of hundred metres down the road from where we were watching this movie.
After the film we decided to go for a little walk and stomp around Oxford st and Darlinghurst, it would have to be at least three years since i’ve been for a walk around Oxford st, and it was nice to be back, and feel the tinsel and glitter in the air, especially after watching that movie. For the third weekend in a row Beryl dragged us into the North Indian Diner, i’m SURE he has shares in that place, again we were served our now standard order of ‘Korma slops’.
A quick bit of shopping was done, and then we had to let Beryl go free, he needed to revisit a bit of his own hidden history i think. Below are a couple of snaps from the night, Paddington at sunset and a ‘wall doodle’ in Surry Hills. The last pic is a still from ‘Forty Thousand Horsemen’
“You’ll look distinguished”. Well, thats what well meaning people say to me when i lament the greying of my scone. I’ve started to grow back my sideburns, and i’ve just remembered why i shaved them off in the first place about a year ago, they are GREY!. What to do?, do i get the brown marker out, and colour them in a bit, for a ‘Texta touch up’?, do get a bottle of brown dye and colour just them?, what about the rest of the grey on my head?, if i just do the sidey’s then it will look bizzare, is a Toni perm the answer?. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated .. forget it Phillip, i’m NOT shaving it.
On the 3rd of March Adam and i ventured up to Sydney to visit our friend Beryl, we met Beryl in the art gallery, where photographs of parts of him were on display, as part of a Mardi Gras exhibition. At the gallery we caught up with Marc and Greg, we were all distressed and disturbed by the ‘art’ that confronted us, it was digital (as in photography) manipulation of photographs, of various parts of peoples bodies. We done the gallery ‘thing’ of nibbling offered food, and scoffing ‘woine’, whilst peering over our glasses at the hanging manipulations. So enough it was time to scamper up the road for dinner, but not before we said goodbye to the artist, as we all stod on the street in the sprinkling rain. Seeing we were all there just for Beryl (Scott), the artist asked aloud ‘So, have you all been there?’, meaning with Scott, a bellowing wail of ‘NO!!!!’ could be heard echoing up the street, as all within earshot of the artist let it be known, that Beryl had not been sullied by any of us. It was a fantastic night .. all stormy and wild. Just before we got to the North Indian Diner (our favorite and CHEAP restaraunt) i turned and saw the most awesome post storm sky, i whipped out the handy digital, and snapped the pic you can see at the end of this post. After dinner we jumped into the ‘Viagra Mobile’ (Beryls car), and drove up to the Valhalla cinema in Glebe. We met up with Mariana and Barbs for the last night of the Mardi Gras film festival. All the way home, and down the mountain, the storm and lightning didnt let up for a minute, being an old storm chaser from way back, this was one of the best i’d seen.
A lovely Friday night was spent in Sydney with Skype scammer Tyson, and blurter artiste’ extrordinair Beryl Motion. We went up to Enmore to watch Bob Downe (the prince of Polyester) in his latest show ‘iBob’, i managed to time the parking so we pulled up right out front of the theatre, soon enough Tyson was recognised on the street by one of his myriad of on line stalkers, we didnt know it at the time tho, as any ‘Pro stalker’ will tell you, you never walk up to the stalked to make yourself known. Before long we found Beryl entertaining a group of men on the street, charming chaps they were, i’ve met and partied with some of them in the past, along with Beryl at various dance parties. A desision had to be made, ‘where to eat?’ we were all fanging, we narrowed the choice down to ‘Yak scat kebabs’ at some Puruvian diner, or ‘Korma slops’ from an Indian diner, the slops won out, so we woofed down a $6.00 plate each and scampered across the road to the theatre, each of us secretly concerned that cheap Indian food may not have been the wisest choice to eat, before being stuck in a crowded theatre for three hours .. well, i wasnt that worried, i mean when you’re amongst friends .. Bob took to the stage, and soon enough had us hooting with laughter at his take on all things retro and tacky. Bob is one of those performers who you watch, and you see little bits of yourself come out in his act. At the end of the show i looked down to see a recording device secreted between Tysons legs, he has since told me that due to ‘imperfect recording conditions’, the recording which he was going to use sections of on his net cast, was pretty much unusable. Personally i think the gut full of Indian slops he woofed down before the show, could have had something to do, with making certain sections of the recording ‘unbroadcastable’. The final image of the lady in from of us, desperatley trying to clap along in time with everyone else is one i cant shake from my mind, it amazes that people can be that incrediblely uncoordinated, try as she might she just couldnt get into a rythem. After the show Bob appeared in the foyer of the theatre to sign copies of his cd, Beryl decided that this was one he wanted to add to his K-tell cd stacker, so he lined up for the ‘meet and greet’, Tyson and i were standing about four metres away when we heard above the din of the crowd Bob screech ‘Beryl!!??’, it wasnt the scream of recognition, more just a cosmic bonding, the sort of thing that happens when two like minds meet. it was time for me to get home, i had to double back and do this all again tomorrow.
Howdy pardners, scanned up a couple more pics from Olivia’s Aussie visit, these two came from the print version of ‘The Australian’. Havent seen this pic of George and Dhani on stage together before, this was taken in Japan during the 1991 tour.
Whilst writing up these reports on Olivia’s vist to Australia over the last couple of weeks,
it brought back a lot of memories from when i met Yoko during her visit in 2000. My Best girlfriend (Frantique Rotalacta) and i were lucky enough to attend two events during her stay, Frantique takes up the story ..
Greetings my little avante garde decoupages. This is your on-the-spot reporter Frantique, reporting to you live from inside a black bag, goodness I feel like an unwanted kitten in here going for its first and last swimming lesson. Last week I had the distinct pleasure (as always) of finally meeting my role model, Yoko Ono.
The Yokster was here as a guest for the Bienalle (I think it’s pronounced “Bi-anal”) .. whatever, a kindly little vixen fixed me up with a couple of tickets to the press launch, and for the following night’s “Happening”, so with that sad little minx Greg Swan in toe, we hoofed it off to the press launch on Thursday the 25th of May 2000 at the “Museum of Contemporary Art”.
As ever, I waltzed in and took over as if I owned the place, and let’s face it, with all the taxes “ROTALACTA ENTERPRISES tm” pays I probably do!. We made our way upstairs to the press area to hustle a good posie so we could get some good photos. Greg looked an absolute tool wearing a trench coat and fedora hat, complete with a little bit of cardboard with the word “Press” written on it, which he had stuck in the brim of his hat looking all the world like a payless Clark Kent (but with the heart of Mr Mixpikalixx).
It wasn’t long before Yoko made her appearance, and floored this jaded old slapper with her perfect skin and complexion. I tell you the woman does not look a day over thirty five!! totally stunning. Yoko stood there with the other artists as the speeches were made, and smiled every now and then for the snapping hordes. She didn’t make a speech, but rather stood there for a good 25 minutes while the yapping went on. As soon as this was done Yoko was ushered into another gallery for a couple of quick TV interviews. Then us press and photographers were allowed in to get a couple of portrait shots.
Being accustomed more to being in front of the camera, I wasn’t prepared for the rudeness of these wankers and wenches that call themselves photographers, luckily I had a stern whisk with me and so I lashed out at their shins, garnering myself and Mr. Swan a place a little closer to the action. Soon enough, Yoko tired of all this pushing and shoving and done a runner.
Being a dedicated fan, I recognized the man standing alone at the back of all this hoo-ha as Sam Havadtoy, Yoko’s boyfriend of many years. Upholding my motto of all arse and no class, I went straight up to Sam and made myself known to him. He proved to be utterly charming, but soon had to leave and try to find Yoko, who had bolted through another door to do some more press interviews.
Before he left, I asked him if he would kindly give Yoko a copy of our fanzine (with Sean on the cover of course), He said that he would and then made a dignified exit.
We then made our way downstairs. It didn’t take that freebie sniffing Greg long to find the complimentary muffins, which he proceeded to woof down at a great rate of knots, then just to our left, we saw a man swirling around the room, smashing things, grasping his neck, choc chips hurtling out of his nostrils and finally projectile vomiting onto a plate glass window. At the conclusion of this wondrous scene, both Greg and I let out hearty “bravo’s!! .. more, more!!” only to later discover that this wasn’t a piece of performance art as we had thought, but rather a poor unfortunate man, who had a bit of complimentary muffin go down the wrong way .. goodness me but you get that.
After that little display, we decided to leave the gallery as soon as possible. Outside, that celebrity spotting Greg soon sussed out Yoko’s car, and we both decided to wait to see her leave. Soon enough, we saw her and Sam walk out, they looked at the car and indicated to the driver that they were going to walk into the city, so straight away we thought “nothing ventured, nothing gained” – so we followed them a short distance until they stopped at a pedestrian crossing.
I didn’t want to follow them all around like some of those creepy freaks do to celebrities, so I sidled up to Yoko and said, “Hi, Yoko, could I please have your autograph?” Sam looked at me and then at Yoko and said, “Yoko, this is Frantique and Greg, they gave us the ‘Across the Universe’ fanzine inside.”
I can only judge people how I find them, and Yoko was nothing less than totally kind, friendly and accommodating to us fans. We had a little chat, then I asked if I could take a photo of Greg and I with her. Yoko said, “Sure, why not!” With that, we snapped a few piccies (both getting a pic with her) and thanked her. We then let them go their merry way, tho it was somewhat sad to see them followed up the street by some dollar-driven Paparazzi.
The following night (Friday), I was lucky enough to snag a ticket to Yoko’s “Happening” at the Opera House in Sydney. It was held in the small space known as “The Studio” and I felt right at home at this event .. it was bizarre, but amazing.
As soon as the doors opened, I bolted in so I could sit front row center. The event was also being broadcast on the net which made it that little more special. I turned up wearing my best lime green Osti frock, paisley crochet shawl, gold open toe court heels and a lame’ clutch purse. I was hoping to be digitally broadcast around the world, as I did my best Sharon Stone moves trying to lure the attention of the cameramen. It really was one of those “you just had to be there events.” I could try to explain, but it would be futile.
Yoko came out and using a chair as a prop started a discussion on “comfort zones.” Those of us in the audience with our heads out of our arses understood Yoko was talking in metaphors, but the hoi poloi wanker art crowd, who formed the majority of the smallish audience just didn’t get it. It’s sooooo sad that people don’t understand the amazing humor in Yoko’s work. One nitwit even yelled out “Claptrap”.
It was really fab for this old performance artist (readers who have attended one of my regular shaving or body fat exchange events knows just what an artist “I” am) to be part of a Yoko “Happening”, as she performed the classic “String Piece” as well as “Smash a Vase Piece.” The best part for me was the question and answer segment where, as I said, the people who “got it” asked fun and appropriate questions, whilst the north shore “Lovee” crowd were looking for Yoko to give straight “literal” answers.
It’s such a disappointment that more Yoko fans weren’t allowed into this event, as it was dominated by the “rich art” crowd. At the end, after Yoko smashed a beautiful, large and expensive-looking vase, and the crowd had finished wrapping itself in wool (to create a sense of togetherness), we were invited by Yoko to come and collect a piece of the smashed vase, and we all promised to meet again in ten years time to reassemble it. With that, Yoko was gone into the dark.
All in all, it was a fantastic, and very funny evening in every sense of the word, This is Frantique Rotalacta signing off from all things arty and farty .. well more farty than arty actually. Until next time when I ruffle the sheets of life, I bid you a fond adieu.
I’ve managed to find a few more pics of Olivia during her stay in Australia.
Just recieved the artwork for my new album of toe tapping hits that will be released in a couple of weeks, look out for it in your local Kmart.
Not sure if this is just a Wollongong phenomenon but over the past couple of months i’ve started to notice pairs of shoes dangling from power lines in the streets, spotting the first pair i thought ‘Oh that looks funny’ a few weeks later i spotted another pair, and another, and another! these arial podiatric decorations are now covering about a 20klm radius, my studies have so far shown that by and large ‘trainers’ seem to be the preferred danglers, how long before i drive down Crown Street to find a pair of gold sensible court heels swaying upon the high voltage cables?.
Last night was a really fantastic evening for me and a group of fellow fans and friends, we got to spend three hours in the company of Olivia Harrison. Friday night the 4th of March 2005 was the world wide launch of the limited edition book ‘The concert for George’, Olivia had chosen Sydney as the location for this fantastic event. I met up with my friends and we made our way throught the tide of rushing Sydney workers down to the Shangri la hotel, at ‘The Rocks’ end of the city, the hotel was also playing host to Australia’s own Princess Mary and Prince Fredrick of Denmark, a few Queens were spotted, but alas not a Princess in sight.
We made our way downstairs to the reception area and were pretty much the first people there, there was a big sign on the door saying ‘interview in progress’, soon enough the appointed hour of 6.00pm came around and we were allowed into the ballroom, it was set up so all the book sales were on the right hand side as you came in the door, ahead of you were the rows of seating and in front of the chairs was a small elevated stage, with a table and two chairs and microphones, the old Tingler has been around the block and back so I knew where to go and grab a chair, my friend from Melbourne Joanna had the same idea and being a smart lady knew to place her handbag on two seats directly in front of where Olivia would be sitting, that hand bag positively screamed ‘These seats are taken, move this at your own peril!!’.
As you faced the table to the right of that were all the Genesis books displayed, including a copy of ‘I me mine’. Separating the interview/signing area from where we were mingling and sitting was only a small red velvet link fence. When we walked in the room Olivia was mingling around talking to friends, I was instantly struck by just how beautiful she really is, not much make up, and the most lovely hair, I once read where someone described Olivia as being very petite, and its really true, in person she is very slight and slender, she was wearing a gorgeous dark pants suit and a stunning diamond brooch, from the way it was shining you could tell those sparkles weren’t coming from mere glass.
She had a bodyguard following her around discreetly, and I must admit I was wondering if anyone would race up and try and talk to her, or ask for an autograph or something, but the reaction of pretty much everyone there set the tone of the evening, and that was just to relax and enjoy the night without bothering Olivia too much, and it worked a treat.
I really sensed that Olivia had this serenity around her, or an aura where people just felt comfortable with her being there, if you wanted to say hello to her there was really nothing stopping you, but most people just hung back and were more than happy and satisfied to be in the same room as her. Olivia moved to sit behind the table so she and Brian Roylance could begin to sign and personalise the books for those who had purchased them, as waiters moved around the room offering up totally non vegetarian food (which I found odd), people were happy to catch up with old friends and sip at the offered drinks.
It wasn’t a large number of people there by any means, the room was in no way crowded, and it was easy to move around. I must admit tho once Olivia sat down I too took my seat in front of her and just enjoyed the experience of watching her interact with people. I was a little surprised to notice that she wears glasses for writing and she is also left handed (something for the trivia buffs). We were seated no more than ten feet away from her the whole time. My friend Joanna decided to make her way up and get her book signed, as I was Jo’s date for the evening I got to accompany her for the signing.
There were only ever about 4-8 people lined up at any given moment, and Olivia and Brian took their time with each person, never rushing them and allowing the buyer to chat for pretty much as long as they needed, or wanted within reason. When it was our turn to be introduced I must admit I felt a pang of nervousness, or more likely it was excitement. I’ve always held Olivia in the highest regard, and have always wanted to meet her just to say ‘thank you’. Joanna was introduced first to Olivia, and then the hostess said ‘Olivia, this is Greg Swan’ I shook Olivia’s hand and said ‘Hello, I’m Greg’, she then said ‘Greg Swan, you’re name is VERY familiar, Greg Swan’, Brian recognised me and said hello Greg, then he said to Olivia ‘The Anthology book’ Greg helped with us with that, Olivia responded with ‘oh yes, you’re name is in the credits’ she turned to Brian and said ‘see, I do have a photographic memory’. You could have pretty much knocked me over with a feather after hearing that.
Brian explained some of the things I supplied for the Beatles Anthology book, I explained to Olivia that the Concert for George book was only to be inscribed to Joanna. Jo explained to Olivia how she became a George fan at the time of Cloud 9, and only discovered the Beatles through George, Olivia thought this was pretty funny, and I commented that that made me feel pretty old, Olivia comment ‘But you ARE old’, having just celebrated my 40th birthday I had a nanosecond of insecurity, then it dawned on me that Olivia meant it in a much deeper sense.
We told Olivia that I had just turned forty and she exclaimed ‘Oh, your only a baby’ she went on to tell us about Derek Taylor and how he used to say to them ‘Wait till you turn 60!’, I told Olivia that when I made a speech at my birthday I was struck by how lucky I was just to be there and to make it to 40, and that turning 30 was a real drama for me, we all agreed 30 was the traumatic age. We continued chatting about some personal stuff which i wont go into here just to keep it special between Joanna and i.
Pretty soon they took a break in Olivia signing the books, author Glenn A Baker made a speech and introduced Brian Roylance who stayed sitting beside Olivia. Brian gave us a short history of Genesis books and his friendship with George, then came what was for me the big surprise of the night, Melissa Doyle from the Sunrise Morning tv show was introduced and brought out to interview Olivia. This was fantastic, I had really only expected Olivia to maybe make a short speech, but this was a real treat. I don’t believe Olivia has ever done a public interview before, but you would never have guessed it, as she looked very relaxed and comfortable. It was also great as the questions and topics were actually pretty interesting, and not the usual inane questions offered up. I don’t have a transcript of the interview yet, but from what I can remember off the top of my head some of the topics discussed included the following ..
How when George and Derek Taylor went to look at Friar Park before George brought it, Olivia mentioned that the place was derelict and that she thinks George and Derek had a ‘cup of tea’ sitting in the garden before George decided to buy Friar Park, those of us in the ‘know’ started to laugh at this, and Olivia gave a knowing smile, but the poor interviewer had no idea why we were laughing. Olivia went on to describe the poor state of the gardens, and how George actually got himself a flame thrower!!, we were really laughing at this image of George walking around like a maniac blasting everything with this flame thrower, so Olivia emphasised it again by saying ‘no really he did’, she said the house was derelict and George put his heart into making the gardens beautiful, Olivia noted that she is now carrying on working on the gardens.
It was lovely for us Aussie fans to listen as Olivia recounted how much they loved Australia and came here often. Olivia mentioned the first time they came here in 1982 as a family, they drove down from Brisbane, they went to Byron bay, Coffs harbour ( I was really impressed at Olivia’s knowledge of Australian geography) she noted that both her and George had travelled a lot over the years, especially George, but when they came into Sydney and saw the Harbour Bridge, they both looked at each other and said ‘this is special, this is a special place’. She told a story about how when they were driving down from Brisbane they stayed in a little hotel, it had a hole in the wall with a trap door. Olivia did a very funny impression of the creaking door being opened, it was through this little trap door that breakfast would be delivered, you would wake up in the morning and the breakfast would be waiting for you behind the door, she remembered that when they were leaving Dhani didn’t want to go, he wanted to live there.
Recalling how they loved the weather down here, she lamented that it hadnt been too nice the last couple of days ( severe storms ).
Olivia noted that both Ravi and George were just ‘Two naughty little boys’ when they were together.
Olivia mentioned recently finding a letter from George to his mum when he was only 23 years old. George was responding to concerns from his mother that the Maharishi was only after their money, Olivia said it was amazing that at only 23 George was looking for something beyond the fame he had, and he wrote to his mum saying that ‘Surely its natural for a man to search for peace’.
When talking about Georges song writing, Olivia mentioned buying him a big book of exotic words, as he was frustrated by what he perceived to be a limited vocabulary, she noted he never used this book as all his lyrics came from his heart. Sometimes when writing a song he would put in funny words that Olivia would veto, she mentioned he would get excited when he heard a Dylan lyric where Bob would get a really good word in.
Talk turned to ukuleles, this got another knowing chuckle from the audience, Olivia revealed how George once had plans to purchase 200 uke’s from the factory, and how he always carried two with him in case someone wanted to play, he done this because you couldn’t help but smile when listening to the uke. She said that’s what George was all about, making people smile, she then chuckled and said, tho I do believe he once took FOUR ukes over to Tom Petty’s house one night, and that no one was immune from George and the uke, he even used to get Olivia’s mother playing.
George just loved music, and that even if Olivia was singing .. and she stressed she doesn’t sing, that George would immediately play along with whatever instrument he had on hand. She noted how George loved a crowd of friends around him, but Olivia said as she was a ‘lonely’ Taurus, she didn’t mind being alone.
George didn’t listen to much, if any contemporary music, Olivia listed a lot of what he liked, including the Bulgarian women’s choir.
When asked about Dhani she said he was a chip off the old block, absolutely like George in what he loves, enjoys, what makes him angry and upset.
Olivia was asked if she had a favourite song and she said she had many but couldn’t single one out, she stated that Run of the mill was important to her, and that George loved that song and how the lyrics were very spiritual. She recited the first verse and explained how it described reaching for a higher consciousness ‘How high will you leap?’.
Discussing the concert, Olivia explained that the Concert For George was never going to be filmed, and that it took Brian and Eric to convince her that it wouldn’t be fair on the fans who couldn’t be there. Olivia originally wanted this to be the public memorial, as a private family one had been held that summer, Olivia’s reticence in filming the concert came from Georges dislike of concert films and filming them, that the lights and cameras put the artist off and distracted them, but after finding cameras that wouldn’t be intrusive she decided to go ahead and film it.
Olivia talked about the difficulty in editing the film, as she had to listen repeatedly to Georges words, sometimes just one phrase over and over in the editing suite. She explained it was very emotional, but she came to hear those words as a message to her, ‘Beware of darkness’ ‘Beware of sadness’.
When she first met George she didnt know what George was talking about half the time, he was always quoting Python or ‘The Producers’. He used to say to Olivia ‘Ah my little Swedish bombshell’ which she explained she obviously didn’t look Swedish, but it was a line from the movie The Producers.
I’m certain there is much I have left out, all up Olivia spoke for about half an hour, which was fantastic and much more than any of us expected. Spotted in the audience were Australian singer and composer John English, founder of OZ magazine Richard Neville and artist Martin Sharp.
Next the head of Warner Brothers Australia was introduced to present Olivia with a ‘Gold disc’ display to acknowledge the massive sales of the Concert dvd in Australia. He made a little speech in which he mentioned years ago while George was in Australia, he decided to just drop in and say hello to the Warners staff. George being George he didn’t call or anything beforehand, he just dropped in, the girl at reception was about 18 years old and asked George who he was, this had Olivia laughing and you could see she loves hearing George stories as much as the next person. George told the girl his name, then she said ‘and what do you do?’. Olivia was really happy about receiving this award and instantly pulled out her mobile phone camera to take a photo, which she was heard to say she was sending to Dhani.
The head of the Variety club in Australia which is a childrens charity, was next to speak. He gave a little history on Variety and then Olivia presented him with a fantastic framed photo of George which is one of twenty that was signed by everyone who performed at the Concert for George, this photo is to be auctioned at the following address http://www.lgm.com.au/auction/onlineauction/details.asp?itemID=13471
When Olivia was standing next to the autographed poster of George, she remarked that everyone had signed it including Paul, Jim Capaldi and Klaus, all except George. There was a very real moment, just for a second, where hearing Olivia say that, and seeing her face when she said it, the impact of Georges loss really hit home.
Olivia sat back down and gave a little background on the Material world charitable foundation, how sometimes it has a lot of money and sometimes not so much. I was impressed that Olivia mentioned helping individuals through the foundation.
That pretty much wrapped up the formal part of the evening, all the people who had been on stage and had made a speech decided to get a group photo with Olivia, they looked around for someone to take the photos, and spotting me standing in front of them David asked me if I could take the photos. They handed me the camera and I got them to squeeze in a little, and asked Olivia to look ahead and smile. That done, David told me myself and Jo could have a photo with Olivia for taking the happy snaps.
Olivia continued on signing books as more people purchased them, again all the while relaxed and happy. Once everyone ‘s books were signed it was getting close to 9.00pm, Olivia stepped down from the small podium and casually chatted to some friends. Olivia mentioned that she was a lot more comfortable doing these things in Australia than overseas, even I was amazed at how relaxed the whole evening was, with everyone being really respectful of Olivia’s space, all who wanted to meet her had the chance, and most were happy to mingle and chat over a few drinks.
Olivia moved over to the framed photo of George to pose for a few photographs, seeing I was struggling with my camera for a second, David asked if Olivia could hold for one more photo as I snapped away. Olivia spotted some artwork a friend of a fan had done of George, she called the fan over to chat about the drawings, which made him pretty happy. He asked if I could take a photo of him with Olivia and Olivia was happy with this, so I got off a couple of snaps.
The night held one last surprise for us, as I handed the camera back to the fan I asked Olivia if myself and Joanna could have a photo with her, I explained I’d been taking photos for everyone else this evening but hadn’t got one myself, again Olivia was happy to do this saying it was because Joanna had such a beautiful smile. As I leant forward to give my camera to someone to take the photo, Olivia spotted the pin on my lapel and asked Jo what it was I was wearing, Jo explained it was my ‘George Harrison’ Cloud 9 pin from Dark horse records. We got our photo and thanked Olivia very much, by now it was 9.00pm and before long Olivia left to go to dinner.
It really was a fantastic night, much more than I imagined it would be, my lasting impression of Olivia will be, that she was, and is, very pretty, really kind, gentle, genuine, and strangely enough very strong.
This last Sunday Adam and i took a long overdue trip up to Bondi to visit two dear friend’s of our’s Barbara and Mariana .. oh, and Conchita (sp?) (aka Dante) the cat, i forgot how wild and wooly the traffic can be on a Sunday around east Sydney and found the last ten kilometers took almost as long as the previous fifty did to cover, i love where i live and wouldnt change it for the world, but the biggest drawback is the distance between me and a lot of people i love, i’m sorta used to it with the vast swag of my family now living in Queensland but it dosnt make it any easier to cope with the distance that physically seperate’s us, (i dont mean it’s a pain in the butt to visit these people, just emotionally wrenching to leave them) i find this more and more difficult and wrenching each time i visit my family up north, or Phillip in Melbourne and as i said even with friend’s in Sydney, time is so precious and it’s so easy to let it slip by all to easily .. so to deal with this i’m going to invent a travel machine where i can be in Sydney in say 3 1/2 minutes, Melbourne in 15 and the same for Qld, and each person will have there own personal travel machine so you wont have to worry about terrorism, i’m not sure how i’m going to do this, maybe i can work over Christine (my car) so it resembles the Delorean in ‘Back to the future’ .. oh hang on, i’m drifting ‘Back to Bondi’ before the future. It was so good catching up with Mariana and Barb’s, they live in a beautiful location in a totally funky flat,but everywhere the girls live they always manage to ‘funk up’, it was a beautiful winter’s day so we hoofed it down the road to get lunch, we found a cafe that sold the most yummy falaffel roll’s, tho poor Adam was traumatised by the green liquid the vines leaves were basted in, he assumed it was Palmolive dishwashing liquid, tho i doubt this to be true considering the rest of the day’s flatulence didnt involve any effervescent bubbles. It was a sobering reminder of our changing country and lifestyle that when we passed the Jewish club it was noted that all car’s entering the car park are now checked by security people, how soon before i start to sound like my parent’s by lamenting for the ‘good old day’s’. Walking back we pulled in for hot chocolate at this funky bookstore/cafe that had the coolest old book’s to peruse and buy whilst scoffing piping hot chocolate. To further prove that opposite’s attract my purchase’s included ‘Bette and Joan – the feud’ whilst Adam’s was a book by Steven Hawkin’s, this book shop (Gertrude and Alice) is a definite ‘must return’ situation. We walked home along the front of Bondi beach and it was just beautiful at dusk, i took a photo (see below) of the full moon rising over Aussie’s most famous beach .. call me old fashioned but it dosnt take much to make old Tammy happy, and i can assure you you’d be hard pressed to offer up anything more enjoyable than a dusk walk along Bondi beach having a laugh with friends, i mean really .. who could ask for more?
Its been age’s since i’ve been to a big full on Raaaaawwwwk show, plenty of pub gig’s and such, but not a big arena show, so last Thursday a mate and i donned our finest stonewashed jean’s, jacket’s and grey vinyl shoe’s with zips, then after licking our hair into some demented alopecian mullet we headed for the Sydney entertainment centre, i had gotten us pretty good seat’s (3rd row) for the Who’s second Sydney concert of this tour, they last toured Aussie in 1968 but were kicked out of the country for outrageous behaviour (i think it was an offense back then in Aussie to wear anything other than beige). I’m really glad i took along ear plug’s for this show, in the begining i was embarrased at the thought of putting them in and looking like a ‘Grandpa’ but after hearing the first note and almost being knocked sideways by it i had the plugs in before the second chord was struck, i think i’ve done enough damage to my hearing over the year’s and i have no desire to suffer like a couple of my friend’s who have tinitus from listening to loud music, once upon a time it was fun to see how long the ringing would last in your ear’s after a concert, now i want to avoid that at all cost’s, as it was it was plenty loud with the plugs in, and as we were only three row’s from the front the speaker’s were right in front of us, every time Zak hit his kick drum my clothes would vibrate!. I felt sorry for the people who didnt bring any ear protection, you could see them holding there ear’s. The show itself was pretty good, tho i like it when i can get into the lyrics of an artist, the Who was more of an ‘event’ in concert, still it was pretty cool to finally see Pete Townshend in the flesh, i’ve always admired him. I was a bit titchy about taking photo’s in the venue and only snuck in my small digital camera after reading sign’s saying there would be full security searches, once inside people were walking in with bags and backpacks FULL of camera’s and security made no effort to stop people even filming from the front row, despite all this i managed to get off a few pic’s and i’ve attached them below.
Last Thursday night (July 30) a friend and i went to see ‘The Who’ in concert (more on that in a moment), one of the bonus’ of going to this concert was i got to see another Beatle kid in the flesh, the drummer for the Who is Zak Starkey .. aka Ringo’s son, having seen Julian and Sean Lennon in concert, and all the McCartney kids including Stella while they were in Aussie in 1993 it was great to see that some of the Beatle magic and talent has rubbed off onto the some of the kids, Stella, Mary, Heather, Julian and Sean have all proved themselves to be amazing talents in there own rights, so it was really gratifying to watch Zak absolutley tear the place apart with his drumming, in no way could you say he is only there because of his name or his connections, as a drummer myself i can spot a player who plays from the heart, and thats Zak, his style is totally different from that of his dad’s, and the Who’s songs call for fast and heavy playing, but at no time did Zak ever over play a song, and never was he overbearing or distracting, unlike Paul’s current drummer Abe Laborial jr who i feel fails in this sense in 90% of the songs he plays live with Paul. So hats off Zak, you’ve stepped out of a pretty big shadow and now cast your own.
Just back from a fab visit to Melbourne where i stayed with my friend Phillip www.melbourneloft.com and his flatmate in crime Jake, this is the first time i’ve ever visited Melbourne in the dead of winter, and i loved it, apart from picking up some bizarre flu and ending the whole journey in a rumble with a taxi driver, well, i actually sort of enjoyed the screaming match with the cabbie, apparently its not the done thing in Melbourne to ask a cabbie to give you a lift to the airport bus, as i found out rather violently ‘THOSE BUSES TAKE OUR LIVELYHOODS, THEY TAKE OUR FARES, YOU WALK!!’.
Well, i didnt walk, but the taxi company IS getting a letter from me. Whilst in Melbourne i got to enact, or perform an ‘art event’ i’ve wanted to do for years, i’ve planned it, but never been able to pull it off.
Projecting a movie or slides onto the side of a large building, on my last visit down
south i scouted out the perfect location, and on this visit i brought a projector and
a carousel of slides. After trialing the event in the lounge, the next night we swung
the projector into action, out the window of Phillips apartment, and for an hour we had a slide show on the side of the high rise building next door in the middle of the central buisness district.
The images were quite visible from the street, and i think it turned out pretty funky.
I managed to snap a photo which is posted below.
Ya gotta love the net,
Where else would i find a photo of my life long hero Paul McCartney photographed in some sort of twisted role play .. not that there’s anything wrong with that, its just that i never pictured Paul in a cat suit on all fours, being made to lap up milk from a bowl (you know you want it!) whilst his tail is held aloft.
The more years that pass the more i respect this man, how much longer before a photo surfaces of Paul wearing a gas mask, a paisley Osti frock and prancing around in sensible court heels? .. i live in hope.
Danger Will Robinson!!
Today i recieve my first ever purchase from ebay, and it all went smoothly.
I just know i’m going to end up in a twelve step program to prise me away
from this online shopping wonderland .. i mean its not like you can pop out
to Woolies and buy an autographed 8×10 of Joan Crawford, much as i wish
you could. I need a special function on my ebay account that pops up with a
warning ‘Do you really need this item Greg, i mean really think about it’ then
it delays the actual purchase for 24 hours to give you time to reconsider.
The first item went after is an autograph of Edward Kennedy, youngest
brother of JFK. I’ve always been facinated by the Kennedy’s and i’ve got a ton
of book’s, dvd’s and videos on the family, JFK was the *Star* but his social
reforms were held ack in many instances by various stumbling blocks, both personal and political, his next youngest brother Bobby who was also assasinated
would have been the elected president in 1968 if not for assasins bullets.
Bobby was an amazing man who REALLY understood the average man, poverty
and the underprivaledged .. he would have made an amazing president, next came
Teddy (Edward) who has an amazing track record in the U.S senate for supporting
equality and equal rights across the board, only last week Teddy was on the news out here railing against Bush and his opposition to gay marridge.
Anyhoo, i’m pretty stoked to have this autograph of Teddy.
Now, if anyone spots any 8×10’s of Joan Crawford .. drop me a line
Heres something i bet most of you didnt know about me ..
I’m absolutley enarmoured with hot rods and classic old cars that have been worked over and ‘suped’ up .. a prime example and my all time favorite is the classic car customised by George Barris ‘The Munster Koach’ coming a close second is the ‘Dragula’ both these cars were featured in the tv show ‘The Munsters’ .. imagine how much better tv shows would be today if they featured cool customised cars
My new boss has turned out to be a fantastic source for all that is sordid and a little NQR (not quite right) he has just sent me these photos of our former Prime Minister and former tee total Bob Hawke, its pretty obvious from these photos that old Bob is back on the turps. Bob is the silver haired gentleman who has the tongue stuck in his ear in case you didnt know.
I must admit, i really miss the politics of Bob’s day .. he had charisma by the bucket, alas now days we live in a beige political climate in this country and i’m salivating in anticipation of a sex scandle or ANY scandle!
Theatre of the bizarre
Is it just me?
I often wonder if i’m the sole inhabitant of this spinning marble in the sky, who steps outside his door and see’s and experiences most everything as though its an onion with the various layers being stripped away .. take Friday night for instance.
I went up to Sydney to watch a band at an RSL, i sort of figure most people would be happy enough with that, if you asked them they would say ‘Yup, saw a band at the club’ but this night for me turned out to be ‘Theatre of the bizarre’. I honestly dont think i’ve ever been to an RSL for entertainment before, and i hadnt really thought about it, but by the end of the night i was totally blown away at just how far removed i am from ‘average suburban life’, when i live in and amongst it .. and this isnt a blog where i’m gonna pick on the locals or hang shit on suburbanites, but for me it was an interesting excercise in how i have managed to stay completely detached from this life(style?) whilst living over the road from it.
I ventured up to Burwood RSL sort of situated in Sydneys South/West area, it was a little corner of Las Vegas hemmed in by semi detached houses. We got there at 7.00pm and the stream of people filing into the club dressed to the nines (well, if truth be told more like the sevens) was amazing, instantly it got me thinking, wow this is THE night for these people, they all seemed to know each other and you could tell that this was the night that they got to really gussy up and smear on the lippy and rouge.
Walking in i was at first confronted by a sign saying ‘No bags or packages over a certain size will be permitted in this club’ .. wow, terrorism alerts have reached the clubs of Burwood? and the acrid air of cigarette smoke at once permeated every fibre of my clothing, until you step into a full on smoking area you dont realise how much smoke has been eradicated from our venues and public places. My next ‘club life’ culture shock came when i mentioned at the bistro that i was vegatarian, ???????????
is all i saw on the faces behind the counter, i had to spell out in great detail that i would like just a plate of veges and the potato and mushroom soup, for which i payed top dollar, i think they thought being vegatarian made it exotic and so the doubling of the price, which wouldnt have been so bad if you really savoured a bowl of beef stock with a mushroom thrown in and bit of potato peel, my ‘Vege exotica’ consisted of some chips, opaque pumpkin and liquid corn, the liquid corn was a particular highlight as a dear friend of mine Koozbaine has a singular mission in life, and thats to find the worst food in clubland, this corn i’m sure would tip the scales for at the very least a merrit certificate to be awarded to this fine establishment in honour of their rancid food.
Making our way upstairs we entered the ‘Entertainment dome’ which was actually just the upstairs auditorium where every Wednesday morning they hold the chook raffles, tonights entertainment (or so i thought) was to be provided soley by the talents of ‘Jim Keyes, Russel Morris and Daryl Cotton’, between them these guys have around 12 Australian number one records, some of them true classics such as Jim Keyes ‘Do what you want to do’ and Russel Morris’ song ‘The real thing’. The auditorium soon filled with what turned out to be the ‘peripheral entertainment’ .. the audience.
The lights dimmed all too soon, cutting short my purusal of ‘fashion terrorism and deconstruction’. Just befor the lights dropped i did catch a glimpse of the enormous portrait of Her Majesty hanging on the wall, i couldnt help but think .. in years to come, will they REALLY have a portrait of Charles up there?, surely someone more worthy, like .. i dunno, Jack Meadows from The Bill?.
The band kicked off with a slew of hits, really impressive and if these guys were of the same calibre and in America they would be afforded the respect that lacked here tonight and would be playing in much larger venues, the applause was tepid to say the least at the start, tho once the crowd got a few larney juices under there belts it got a little more interesting and wild. We were right down the front so i thought i’d cop a look over my shoulder to see what was holding these people back, i go to heaps of concerts but mostly in the city or arena’s. When i had a look it was truely ‘Bizzaro land’ the audience was made of the most .. varied, cliched, foriegn people i have ever seen at a concert.
For a lot of these people i think it was just something to so on Friday night, to others it was obvious they had been dragged out by their partners who wanted to recapture, or try ‘to’ capture something that had by passed them in their youth, you could tell the partners of these people as they were the ones sitting there looking like Dame Edna’s bridesmaid Madge Alsop, with their arms folded and their mouths pursed into the most extreme cats arse pucker’s i’ve ever seen. For many others i feel it was a night to ‘go off’, to be taken back to a time before marrige, divorce, death and kids had set in, and through their plastic framed 80’s style spectacles you could see a look in their eyes that said ‘take me back, if only for awhile’ .. thats what i meant earlier about i cant just go and see a band, or anything much really without seeing a whole other picture, there are so many underlying things to everything going on around us if you peel away the layers and look at what is going on beyond a superficial level.
As the night wore on you could see more and more people who i’m sure lead the most ‘suburban’ lives just busting to head bang, to dance .. to let loose, do ANYTHING they dont usually do, something that they could leave behind as they walked out the door but still have a sly smile later on knowing that they had ‘gone wild’ if only for a few minutes.
Towards the end of the concert the most extrodinary thing happend, from tables far and wide the brave rose to dance and moved towards the front, to cut loose .. to enter into the unchartered territory of ‘freeform avante guarde interprative dance’, the concert had now become the ‘Burwood burlesque’ as groups clustered on either side of the stage, no one was brave enough to move to the centre .. not yet, at first the two groups wobbled a knee, then one girl in a maxi mini denim skirt let fly with what could only be described as ‘flailing semaphore’ arm movements, she was like a dyslexic trying to spell out the YMCA arm movements, from the corner of my eye i could see a tall ultra thin man wearing stretch grey stonewash denim jeans had suddenly remembered the dance steps so abley displayed and executed by Dick Smith in his self promoting ‘Dick Smith the electronic wizzard’ television commercials from the early 80’s, then whirring in front of me came Burwoods answer to Coutney Love, all lipstick zixo bleached hair, she had head banged her way from the group at the side, right to centre stage where she stopped at our table, sculled a schooner of beer, and without missing a single rythemic head thrash, moved back amongst her people. At first i thought the people at the right hand side of the stage had all taken ketamine, then i realised that most of these people probably hadnt danced since the progressive barn dance in high school.
Almost as soon as it had begun it was over, this break with conformity .. this step outside the square was at an end, the lights came up and the crowd .. who mostly knew each other were back to talking about aunt Mildreds bladder prolapse.
I dunno, to me it was just facinating .. *I* was outside MY circle, maybe .. hopefully someone there was looking at me and thinking the same things i was wondering about all those people, i’d like to think so.
Forgot to mention i spent a fantastic day at my mate Steve’s on Sunday, he coughed up the big bucks to buy the new box set of George Harrison cd’s and invited me up to have a listen and to watch the dvd that came with the set, people always ask me why i am SUCH a Beatle fan, the answer is simple, each individual one was/is so talented and interesting but when you put the four of them together it’s just other worldly, so if truth be told i guess i really dont have ‘A’ favorite Beatle, they all serve a special purpose.
Just recently i’ve been imersing myself in the works of George Harrison, i mean REALLY getting into his stuff, it’s so deeply personal and spiritual .. not in the sense of organised religion, but in a deep and organic and accesible way, just throw away things that George often said sometimes make you really see things in a different light.
I loved something he said in the dvd, Eric Clapton was coming to Georges place to record some guitar and said to him ‘I dont need to bring a guitar, you have all that there right?’ George said at that moment and also when in the company of the sitar mystro Ravi Shankar he realised that its the people/person who is the music, not the instrument, it just sits in the corner until someone picks it up to play, and then the essence of that person comes out through the instrument to make the music, and its true when you think of anyone who plays, each person has a different sound, a different style and it dosnt matter what they play it on, it will always be the person who shines through. This just struck me as a fantastic analogy for many things in life.
I’m off to light some incense.
With all good intent i vowed to blog every day but i’ve come to realise that somedays you just cant squeeze one out, or even find the time to, as with most things i always walk away if something is feeling forced (insert generic ‘Carry on’ double entdre(sp) here)
so i figure its better to say something when i feel like saying it, Hmmmm, whats that saying ‘He who speaks most ……………….. ‘ i’ll get back to you on that one.
I know, i know i should be broadening my horizons a little and ‘get out more’ but today i came across a fantastic pic in a magazine that is so horrifying that i’m having second thoughts about posting it, yes its another celebrity gone bad
Step up the mike Liza Minelli and ex hubby David (my face is melting) Guest, i knew this couple was troble from the time of there wedding, i mean Michael Jackson as best man and Elizabeth Taylor as bridesmaid!!??
I love Liza just because she is so unhinged and always teetering towards the steps of the BFC (Betty Ford Clinic) i believe Liza has brought time share in the BFC, i have priceless video footage of Ruby Wax interviewing Liza in a London hotel room, Liza brought along her a friend, obviously NOT a graduate of the BFC .. cant remember her name but she was one of Dr Who’s assistants (as a side bar the said ‘Friend of Liza’ once tried to have ‘intimacies’ my friend Beryl and one of his mates at a Dr Who convention, the fact that they are both gay didnt seem to slow her down any) during this interview with Ruby, Liza and her friend did all they could to stop from collapsing onto the floor, all to no avail as they crawled around the floor barking like dogs and then
re enacting the day they met at school and were beaten by the teacher with a splintering ruler, Liza tops this off with a knee knocking dance that only slows down when you can hear her recent hip replacement begin to splinter.
In the pic below Liza is on the recieving end of some ‘sweet lovin’ from hubby David, who by the way is now suing her for spousel abuse, he reckons Liza used to flog him, i say why not?.
To me this pic looks like a moment of nature, you know when the mother bird flys out the nest and comes back with a mouth full of worms and then regurgitates them into the baby chicks mouth?.
Just back from grocery shopping, i find it a very centering experience, Woolies is always chilled to just the right temprature for me, but what i REALLY love is you can stand there and read ALL the magazines without the presure you feel in a privately owned newsagent, you know where you constantly expect some pimply little snot to come up and ask ‘are you going to buy that?’ or my favorite ‘This isnt a library you know’, no one has ever said that to me yet, and i dont know how i’d react .. i’d probably just thump them, but at woolies there is no pressure, in fact it feels as if your expected to stand there for hours in the magazine isle, i once stood so long in a bookshop reading a really heavy book that when i went to put it down and leave my arms were frozen in the position i had been holding the book, my muscles seized and it lasted for a good 20 seconds, which was long enough to walk around looking as if i was pleading .. for something.The magazine display is now my favorite place to be in woolies, it used to be the pasta isle for one reason and another,
Its here at the magazine stand that i plow through all the gossip rags of the week, its from this possy i find out that Prince Edward has become a father and Prince Charles has been accused of having gay sex .. is it only me that see’s the irony in all that? but best of all its beween these pages that i’m pretty much guarenteed at least one celebrity plastic surgery disaster photo a week, and of those i cant get enough .. from an early age the cranial manipulation mutilation faux pas has facinated me, i have a ton of photos i’ve clipped stored in a box that ive kept over the years, i think Liberace was one of the pioneers of the ‘vanity mutilation’
This week i was so overwhelmed by a smorgasboard of face desecrations that i didnt know if i’d be thrown out of Woolies for standing in the isle rubbing my nipple and rocking back and forwards as i was confronted with not ONE, not TWO, but THREE!! magazines covers documenting Farrah Fawcetts latest tangle with a scalpel, Farrah has moved into the realm of the ‘contorted Jocelyn’, this is where the make over has gone so wrong that the victim looks as if they have been felled by a massive left hemisphere stroke .. oh its just fantastic.
In the photos below we see firstly a young glam Farrah who has been violated by a curling wand, nothing wrong with that. In the second photo we can see just how contorted and twisted her face has become, curving around to the right .. its almost plasticine-esque, the money shot is the last pic, here we can see Farrahs nostrils looking like they have been transplanted from Daniella Westbrooks nose (the actress from Coronation Street who snorted so much coke it rotted away the septum in her nose leaving her with a mono nostril) poor old FF’s nose looks like a bit of pork crackling has been taped onto her face and used as a nose, the discolourisation on it is proof of the massive trauma of knife through flesh, cartlidge being shattered that this poor old excuse for one of those red floppy things on a turkeys beak is of a nose.
Did anyone say mirror and credit card?,
Tammy xoxo
Seeing as its been the preverbial cliched ‘long hot summer’ i figured it was time to get Christine’s (my car) air conditioning fixed, the thought of travelling up to Sydney for fairday with only the open windows as relief from the odourous sauna that Christine becomes in summer was just too much, so a few hundred dollars later we (Adam, Tyson, Amy and i) were hurtling towards the big smoke in refrigerated discomfort, i didnt care if everyone had icycles dangling from there nostrils i payed TOP DOLLAR for the air conditioning to be fixed and i wouldnt be happy until snow flakes were shooting out of the vents, poor Tyson was wearing a leather jacket in the back seat, me? i was loving the novelty of being able to lean forward in my seat without hearing the slurp and gurgle of my shirt peeling from my back.
We trotted up to Victoria park which is between the city and Newtown, i was glad it was a little overcast as there is nothing more horrifying than fairday during a heat wave, i’ll never forget the year five dogs died of heart attacks .. and i STILL dont get the whole thing of taking your dog and parading around with it, altho this year i was pretty impressed to see a queen leading a rabbit around on a leash, Adam decided that he must eat as soon as we got there, the search was on to find something other than the fetta cheese and spinach ‘brake pads’ the Turkish ladies make, one guy we met there was gobbling them up, he nearly choked on one, but thats okay as he was pretty rude to me later on, we settled down for a feast of noodles in front of the karaoke stand, if the raw noodles didnt make me vomit then the standard of singing was about to, we said our farewells to my niece Mellissa who was there for the day and moved on with ‘Beryl’ .. who needs a blog all to herself to explain the entity that she is.
We headed up the hill towards the the lube slide .. dont ask, from the distance i could hear the hark ‘Spuddddy spuddddy’ (ONE nickname i have is ‘Spud’) i looked down the hill to see my old sister and favorite drag queen in the whole world Dee Dee L’mar waving at me, with Dee Dee was her lady in waiting Miss Margot Gashme
we skipped off down to meet them and were a little concerned that maybe the sun had got to them as they were a little ‘teetery’ on there pins, after being reassured that they were fine we got a couple of pics and sent them on there way to spread a little magic on the main stage where Margot told me to listen out at 4.15pm as she was going to cock her leg and fart into the microphone just for me, what a gem.
We scampered around to the stall that our friends Daniel and Todd were manning to say a quick hello before we headed off to the theatre, we couldnt say no to Daniel when he asked us to fill in a survey form, Beryl and i were standing next to each other doing this and laughing as we HAD to lie on it, i mean we couldnt own up to half the things this health survey was asking, i was especially shocked when i handed my form back and found that the person who was there before me had already half filled my form in on the back page, lets just say he he is fibbing more than me, or he is living the life of a debauched maniac ..
I’ll blog more later on our trip to the theatre after fairday, thats another mood and story altogether.
Meanwhile here’s a couple of fairday photos of Adam, Tyson, Dee Dee, Margot and JD.
The Tingler xoxo
A letter in the local paper gave me a major flashback, to a time long ago when i was a kid. It revolves around the summer holidays, and the local open air movie theatre at Burrill Lake, this was heritage listed but has now sadly been knocked down. You can’t let a little bit of history stand in the way of a sub division can you?.
Burrill Lake open air theatre holds some of the most vivid memories of my, and my family’s childhood’s. Every summer my family would up stakes and camp at Bungalow park for five weeks.
Each night from our tent you would watch the procession of people heading to the theatre, all walking zombie like, as if extras from the movie ‘The night of the living dead’.
The veteran, and professional theatre patrons could be spotted as they carried pillows with them, to cushion their vulnerable posteriors from the abrasive canvas seats, and to stop themselves being concussed, as they reclinded their
heads back onto the 3 inch plumbing pipe that held the
backs of the seats up.
The real smarties in the crowd also brought aerogard insect repellent spray to keep the mozzies at bay, it was not unusual to hear the slapping of ankles and arms, then a call of ‘Pass the aerogard!’.
How i envied the posh people who had their canvas deck
chair seats reserved, by having a piece of timber
Padded with a dark mustard, vinyl covering placed along
the seating.
I remember the first time my dad took me to see a film there, it looked pretty rough from the outside with only corrugated walls, but when we walked into the foyer I thought ‘How swish!’, they had a candy bar, I also seem to remember red velvet curtains, a man stood at the entrance to the theatre in a suit with a bow tie!, he took our tickets, and pulled the red curtain across for us to enter.
I remember looking up at dad with a look of shock when we were greeted by the sight of the tin
walls, lampost support pillars, a VERY rough cement
floor that petered out to a dirt trail, and the
(in)famous seats.
As i sort of described before, the seating consisted of wood posts at either end of a long row, the front post lower than the back, canvas was stitched around plumbing pipe that ran across the posts so it was like a long line of deck chairs.
Being exposed to the elements (did i mention that this
theatre only had about a third of the seats under
cover?, the rest was down the front in the open air)
the canvas seating, and especially the stitching would rot,
becoming weakend.
Without a word of a lie i remember watching a war movie with my dad one night, and we heard what sounded like someone’s pants tearing, only to have the seat in front of my dad give way as the top stitching split. The lady in the seat fell strait
Backwards, and her head landed in my fathers lap!.
We were always treated and sat in the undercover part, quite often it would start to rain in the middle of the movie, and you would laugh and think ‘Suckers!’ as the crowd down the front fled up the isle to sit on the cement floor.
I recall watching ‘Romancing the stone’ and ‘Give my regards to Broadstreet’ in the summer of 1984/5, probably the last time I went to theatre. I remember a scene in ‘Romancing the stone’ where they were in the arid desert, and from outside the theatre came a flock of seagulls, drawn to the light being projected into the night sky. The birds danced and swooped
in front of the screen, it was quite surreal.
I don’t think it was uncommon for seagulls to crash into the screen some nights.
Whenever it was time for a new movie to be shown, the octagonal film containers covered in stickers would be left
outside the shop on the main road to be picked up,
again such vivid memories.
One thing that held a special fascination for me (no
idea why, maybe it was the seeds of my future movie
poster collecting hobby being sown) but I always loved
the day when the people would come around, and paste up the new posters for the forthcoming features. I remember
they were pasted up onto blank squares of tin. Outside
the shop they had a special frame and board to paste
them on, but in the camp ground the tin was nailed up
between two tree’s just near the amenities block.
I couldn’t wait for the poster person to come along with their tin pot of glue (probably cornflour and water) and big wide brush and slap the goo over the old poster, lay over the new one, then apply another coat of the clear paste. By the end of the summer these posters would be about half an inch thick with all the layers of movies past.
I can still smell the paste, and I loved going over to them after it had rained, and poking my finger into them as they were like a big gooey sponge (I was only a child remember ha ha) I do remember one movie poster being for Ringo Starrs
‘Blindman’, a spaghetti western, I’ve since purchased
that poster, tho the one I saw posted on the board is the one with all the memories.
It’s tragic the theatre had to be torn down, tho suppose it was inevitable, I mean they don’t make waterproof, digital, 5.1 audio surround sound sytems do they?.
The Tingler xoxo
Before i launch off into a discourse on ‘this’ years Mardi Gras Fair day in Sydney,
I thought i’d cast my mind back a few years to the 2001 Fair day held at
Victoria Park in the city.
Its no big secret that I spend WAY too much time following and adoring celebrities.
Obtusely the objects of my affection are mostly, and come to think of it, have always been,
not your average celebrity that most people would keep scrapbooks on.
No, I’ve always followed the less loved, the misunderstood, the vulgar, the crude and the twisted.
Fairday 2001 offered me the chance to meet someone who was NONE of those things ..
He was simply * Bernard *
Or for the tragic few readers who know not of whom I speak, ‘Bernard King’.
Without realising it, Bernard was probably my first gay hero. He was a celebrity chef on mid afternoon television in Aussie, with his shows actually being filmed right here in Wollongong at WIN 4. Bernard really became a star when he was hired to be a judge on the afternoon talent show ‘Pot of gold’ that ran through the mid 1970′s. I see all these kids now ranting about how cutting and funny Dick(head)o and Mark (somebody slam him please) Holden are on Australian idol, but don’t they realise that they are merely flaccid, pathetic imitations of the true master ‘Bernard’?. You see on Pot of gold Bernard would not hold his tongue, would not avert a death stare in the middle of someone’s act. He was harsh and cruel, without any pretence of political correctness. My brother and I would sit glued to the television, just waiting for his total character, and emotional assassination of the hapless contestants. He was merciless, and we rocked back and forth in glee as he took aim at atonal, discordant, singing sisters in matching blue taffeta dresses and eye shadow. He would draw breath and say, ‘Dress sense zero, singing zero, dancing zero, future zero .. your not very good are you?, no body’s told you that have they’.
Bernard would always say that it was for their own good when he made them cry, and cry they did. Once there was this guy dancing on the show, he looked like a reject from the rejected dancers from ‘You cant stop the music’. He was whirling around in his ball separating satin hot pants, he went for a high kick, and you could practically hear the twang of his ham string as it snapped. He hopped and crawled around the stage, earning nothing more than a dismissive sideways glance from Bernard, as he threw to a commercial break.
It was so funny, without knowing it I was collecting gay hero’s even at that very young age. Not for me the league legends of the day, give me Bernard, Bert or Joylene Thornbird Hairmouth anyday (remind me to blog about Joylene sometime)
All those years later walking around Fair day we spotted Bernard parading, dressed up like a dandy, looking not unlike a crisp Quintin. I must say my legs went to jelly at the sight of him, this really threw me. I’ve met all the big names, from Don Lane to Diana, but Bernard had me shaking.
Finally my friends Mariana and Barbs pushed me towards him, I extended my hand with a simple greeting, would he savage me?, would he dismiss me with a wave?, no, he cocked his head and offered a very polite hello. We stood and had a charming chat for a good ten minutes, he was incredulous when I told him I had all four of his ‘Kings kitchen four seasons’ cookbooks. He assured me that there were some very tasty recipes in between the pages.
It was lovely to meet someone who holds such a command over your memory bank. I’ll never forget, just as we said our farewells, Bernard took my hand and said, ‘Greg, always make your own condiments’.
I think there is something in that for all of us, don’t you?.
Bernard pioneered television advertorials in Australia, doing whatever it took to promote sponsor-supplied products, even if it meant cooking a whole fish in saccharine sweetened grapefruit flavoured soft drink.
I’m so glad I got a photo taken that day with my first gay hero.
Tammy: Duchess of Oven.
I’m a little emotionally drained today, as I’m sure you all are after hearing
the news that Ken and Barbie have split up.
The MD and press officer of Mattel held a press conference to make this announcement.
I’m pretty stoked tho that it’s a polyethanol Aussie stud, ‘Blaine the boogey
boarder’ that is now getting to rub mounds with Barbie. Lets face it, once
Ken came accessorised with grey slip on shoes with zips, he was rooted
as far as Barbie was concerned.
I don’t think GI Joe would be that interested now either.
I wonder if they have a shelter for all the unwanted and
unloved Ken dolls?. A group where all the discarded Kens meet up and have
workshops, with butchers paper, and rebirth and curl up in the foetal position?
(probably not, Kens legs don’t bend do they, just another reason for GI Joe to brush him off).
Still, it was good of CNN to make it the lead story, it’s not like anyone want’s to deal with reality these days.
Here we are at the end of another weekend, it was a pretty eclectic couple of days for me, Saturday was spent corousing around with the fantastic Miss Barbie Q, its been FAR too long since she’s pulled on the size 12 stilleto’s. We met up at the gay mens drop in at Acon .. i’m thinking about doing some more volunteer work up there, i sorta miss being involved, and being at the front line and cause of all that gossip 
so they threw on a BBQ for Barbie Q, plans were made for Mardi Gras Fairday next weekend, make sure to drop back as i’ll be posting heaps of pics of hot guys from the day, as well as the odd photo of over heated dogs, frazzled Lesbians and celebrities trying to be incognito. Today Sunday was spend working myself up for a game of tennis, Adam and i played against Amy and her sister.
I couldnt believe how competitive they were i’m from the school of ‘If the ball heads my way i MAY run for it’ but these girls are serious tennis players, needless to say Adam served to me everytime he knew i was gazing at the guys on the next court .. he still didnt get an ace tho.
Below is a pic of Tammy and Barbie
