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I gave myself plenty of time to find my way across the city to the south eastern suburb of Mt Waverley, where this morning’s funeral for our late ‘friend’ Jean was to be conducted at local Uniting Church. I generally pride myself on being able to competently find my way around the metropolis of Melbourne and to be quite efficient at the reading of a street directory. My mistake this morning was in placing reliance on a Google map which I had hurriedly obtained before I left the office yesterday!  Upon reflection, I’m convinced that the regular maps from the street directory is a much more reliable means of tracking where one has to go.

However, with the aid of Google, I was quite confident of my destination, and within about 15 minutes driving of my intended destination, I had plenty of time prior to the 10am starting time.  My first mistake was not interpreting the Google map accurately, which generally highlights your main route, but gives little reference to the roads, etc, in between that main route!   So eventually, the main road that I thought I was on, and off which was the church I was looking for, well put simply, I couldn’t find the relevant side streets that were so clearly marked as being just off the main road. As my frustration and annoyance grew at my obvious inability to find what I was looking for, I could see all of that spare time I had, quickly ticking away, and it was becoming obvious that I was not going to reach the church by 10am!  Ten minutes out, and I finally realised, that in the midst of this hectic mid morning traffic, I was searching along the wrong road! Off we went, this time to the correct destination. My next mistake was making one further stop to confirm my bearings, and the street I was looking for.  Mind you, the outcome would have been the same, wherever I had finally stopped, preferably at the church!  Already late, I set off again  –  or tried to.  The car would not restart! Couldn’t even get the gear stick out of the ‘park’ position!   ‘I don’t believe it’!! It appeared to be a problem with the battery, and a look under the bonnet didn’t reveal anything else as an obvious problem.

Now our motoring service organisation – the Royal Automobile Club of Victoria [RACV] –  is a very useful organisation for motorists to turn to in times of need, such as now. The downside to that is usually the time you have to wait to get that service. Thankful that before I’d left home, I’d made a point of recharging my mobile phone, my call to the RACV involved the usual discussion about exactly where I was, what the problem was etc. I must admit that the lady on the phone must have quickly recognised the frustration in my voice – she was calm and measured in her approach, and remained that way through my somewhat impatient attempts to describe where I was.  The usual story  – a service van will be with you in 20-40, but if it is going to be longer, would you like us to text you? That was a warning signal immediately!  Incidentally, by now I’d given up any idea of getting to the funeral I had been heading for!  Sure enough, right on 40 minutes, and my phone buzzes!  ‘We apologise for the delay and expect that a Patrol will arrive within 60 minutes [by 11.49am]”. I’d first called shortly after 10am!!  Well, already desperately in need of getting to a toilet, that was just not good enough, I couldn’t  ‘survive’ another hour, so I rang the RACV, and told them, I was going to have to be away from the car for 10 minutes, so if the Patrol turns up in that 10 minutes, I won’t be here. The ‘voice’ on the phone promised to ensure the delay was beyond at least 10 minutes!!  My destination was a major hotel that I knew was around the corner, but a preferable alternative was on the opposite corner – a MacDonald’s restaurant – didn’t buy anything, but was in and out, and back to the car within the specified time. Another 10 minutes and my  ‘rescuer’ arrived  – rather young, but hopefully he knew what he was doing!

Anyway, to cut a over-long boring story, it took two jump-starts [with a modern looking piece of equipment] to get the car going again, but with the warning – the battery is 4 years, normal life span, might be an idea to get a new one asap.  Oh yes, on the Thursday afternoon before Easter?  At least now, the engine was running, the car in gear, and I had no intention of switching the ignition off until I had reached Northcote [my work place]. That happened about 45 minutes later, but I drove straight to our regular service repairer first, not optimistic that he could help me at short notice!  Fifteen minutes later, I  drove away, new ‘pricey;’ battery installed, and hopefully, problem solved.

That was the spoilt plan – I didn’t get to pay my respects to an old friend!

The change of plan later was of my own doing. Bit of shopping for the Easter weekend when I reached Sunbury, and home, still in advance of Susie, originally expected Tuesday night, but had decided to stay up in Bendigo for a couple of extra days. She went out to play volleyball tonight, which I hoped was not a bad move –  most of the team was associated with her ex-boyfriend’s family, but she did not seem concerned, convinced he would not be there! Presumably he wasn’t, as she returned home later, in a reasonably mood, aided by the fact of a rare win in their match!

As with Christmas, I generally like to do a special program on the radio to acknowledge the fact of Easter, and recognise the original significance of the ‘celebrations’, but the only ‘free on air’ opportunity I would have was at midnight tonight – wanted to go in after the last Thursday presenter had \finished, and present a program of sacred music, basically for Good Friday, which the time would be by then. However, I’d not made any commitment about this, and from memory had only mentioned to one listener, that I might do a midnight shift, for that purpose. However, with doubts about whether anyone would be interested in listening to classical religious music at that time of night, and my own ability to wait until then after a tiring and frustrated day, I changed my mind. I was not expected, except by one, and I let her know through someone else, that I’d not be on air.  The little response I received back from that listener was rather heart warming –  :To Bill, the hours of pleasure you have given me, don’t you dare feel bad [about not going on air], many Sunday mornings, i could not get out of bed when my legs didn’t want to work, and then I would say, bills on air, much love, take care, your well being and health is worth more than being on air, as much as we all love you..”

So with those thoughts in mind, I gave away any plans to do a midnight shift, this time!!

I received advice earlier this week that one of our ‘associates’ from past years had passed away, on Sunday I think it was, another victim of cancer.

Jean was a member of the original Wesley Young Adults, a group associated with the Wesley Methodist Mission in Lonsdale Street, Melbourne, in the late 1960s/early 1970s, and like most of us had ‘migrated’ to Melbourne from other parts of Australia seeking work and/or study, and in the process, finding the companionship of like minded people in the middle of the city, as young adults, most of us in our early 20s.  Thanks to the specific efforts of one former member, Rosemary, most of us from those days are able to keep in touch through the odd function every year or so, although because of distance, I tend to get to less of those than do the majority. The other Monday night was one of the exceptions, as noted in my blog at the time. When I received Rosemary’s news this week, I immediately determined that I would find a way to get to our friend’s final service, this coming Thursday.

 Jean was part of a group of 3 or 4 girls who for a few years, shared a flat in Drummond  Street, Carlton [an inner  Melbourne suburb], while about 20 minutes to the north west, there were 4 or 5 [the numbers varied from time to time] of us guys, sharing a house in Tennyson Street Moonee Ponds – never forget our Greek landlord, Mr Marinos, a real character!   Anyway, at different stages, some of us guys were going out with various of the girls over in Carlton  – in those days, the guys all continued to live in their ‘residence’ and the girls in theirs! You had a date, then returned your date to her place of abode.   Or we simply just participated in the same activities as a group of friends in any environment would!  I do recall, that on at least one occasion, Jean was included in a group of three ‘girls’ who joined me at an Australian football game at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, the other two were her flatmates, one of whom was my girlfriend [briefly] at the time.  Unfortunately, as happened with others on a  couple of occasions, she [the girlfriend] was barracking for the other team, and it was usually my team [Carlton of course] that won that match! Not always a good result for good relations!  Anyway, I wander again  –   at the same time, there were other flats, etc, other girls and guys generally following the same format.  From memory, I think I might have been the only one who ‘strayed’ from that practice on a couple of occasions. Today of course, the guy and girl would simply move in together, and stay that way until something went wrong. We thought our method was less risky, less complicated, and didn’t leave you with a lot of messy after events, when the inevitable breakup of a particular relationship occurred, which it generally did – for eg, in the two households referred to, all of us eventually ended up married to someone from outside of those two ‘specific’ groups, although in the long run,  generally speaking, the majority of those who made up the WYA membership, usually  ended up married to another member, which was in fact my situation. Generally those relationships have lasted  –  mmmmm, again, I think I am one of the exceptions!  Ohhhh, well, I always was a little different! J

I suppose the disturbing aspect for the rest of us, at hearing the news of the death of a friend from that era, due to illness etc, is the ‘reminder’ that none of us are getting any younger, and we are moving into a couple of decades when we are all going to appear on one of Rosemary’s emails of sad tidings!!  A sobering thought indeed!

Meanwhile, a general meeting of our local Family History Society tonight, which included a fascinating talk by our President about the history – but he did it through photographs – which showed as clearly as any wordy description, just how much this town has changed over the past 40 years, even since we have been here, in 1983 When Peter himself, was a schoolboy here, there was little in the way of prospects for Sunbury from the small sparsely populated rural style community it was. Now it is a thriving little ‘city’ almost. I found the historical photos totally exhilerating, and in particular the pictures of the estate upon which I now live, most of which was a stud farm, I think, for racehorses, where just to the south of us, the Sunbury Racecourse used to exist. I can’t picture that now amongst the residential areas, what a pity that part of our development disappearred. We must encourage Peter to put his photo collection – literally thousands of photos taken either by himself or others of the life of Sunbury over many decades, into a formal published record, in a book of some sort!!

Over the past weekend, I completed reading a rather dramatic, in many ways simple, autobiography, called ‘Little Daughter’ written by Zoya Phan. The title was the name that her father referred to her whilst he was alive. A true story, which left one feeling quite pained again, at the reminder of the constant inhumanity of ‘man’ to his fellow ‘man’, and the words I wrote to a friend from the radio, who spends six months of each year with his Thai wife in Thailand, I guess hint at my concern of the situations surrounding Zoya’s life. Those comments were as follows:-

“I’ve just finished reading a book  written by a refugee from Burma [Zoya Phan  a 28-year-old ethnic Karen refugee from Burma, who as a 14 year old,  was forced to flee her country after her village was attacked by the Burmese Army], and who subsequently spent some ‘tortuous’ years in a couple of the refugee camps just inside the Thai border with Burma, before she was eventually able to ‘escape’ to the West, where today, she continues to campaign for the rights of her people.  With the ongoing brutal attitude of the Burmese regime, those oppressed classes in Burma [the Karens in particular], are still suffering the same fate, and in view of the many problems we still face here in Australia in respect to refugees,  I was wondering what the general attitude of the Thai people is towards the refugee problem coming from Burma, and what the King thinks or does about it?   Just curious guys  – it was a very confronting and disturbing book – and one has to wonder sometimes at the value of organisations such as the United Nations [or the USA/Britain, etc] who are so ready to jump into places like Libya to ‘protect’ the citizens, while the regime in Burma has been permitted to run amok against it’s own people for decades, even up to 2011.   Incidentally, some of those people here in Australia, who are always so ready to attack refugees as ‘free loaders’, ‘illegal immigrants, etc’ would do well to read a book like Zoya’s, and perhaps get a better understanding of some of the conditions that the majority of refugees have to live under that drives them to the stage of taking desperate measures [like using people smugglers] to simply escape those conditions –  the book –  ‘Little Daughter, the Autobiography of Zoya Phan’   [as you can gather, I’m a bit of an advocate for the cause of refugees, and have actually taken part in work to assist some of these people, in recent years, but I don’t really apologise for that]”

In brief terms, that probably sums up my feelings arising from the book.  To give a clearer idea of it’s subject matter,  I copy from the book promo itself.

“Zoya Phan is a 28-year-old ethnic Karen refugee from Burma. As a teenager she was forced to flee her country after her village was attacked by the Burmese Army. She now lives in London and works for the human rights organization Burma Campaign UK.   She was born in the remote jungles of Burma, to the Karen ethnic group. For decades the Karen have been under attack from Burma’s military junta; Zoya’s mother was a guerrilla soldier, her father a freedom activist. She lived in a bamboo hut on stilts by the Moei River; she hunted for edible fungi with her much-loved adopted brother, Say Say. Many Karen are Christian or Buddhist, but Zoya’s parents were animist, venerating the spirits of forest, river and moon. Her early years were blissfully removed from the war. At the age of fourteen, however, Zoya’s childhood was shattered as the Burmese army attacked. With their house in flames, Zoya and her family fled. So began two terrible years of running from guns, as Zoya joined thousands of refugees hiding in the jungle. Her family scattered, Zoya sought sanctuary across the border in a Thai refugee camp. Conditions in the camp were difficult, and Zoya now had to care for her ailing mother.

Zoya, a gifted pupil, was eventually able to escape, first to Bangkok and then, with her enemies still pursuing her, in 2004 she fled to the UK and claimed asylum. The following year, at a ‘free Burma’ march, she was plucked from the crowd to appear on the BBC, the first of countless interviews with the world’s media. She became the face of a nation enslaved, rubbing shoulders with presidents and film stars. By turns uplifting, tragic and entirely gripping Little Daughter  is the extraordinary true story of the girl from the jungle who became an icon of a suffering land.” 

While Zoya was in London, now a ‘free citizen’, her much loved father, who had long being on a Burmese ‘hit list’ was finally assassinated in front of his home, and that tragedy drove Zoya even further into her campaigns to free her people from oppression, a campaign which sadly continues to this day. Arising from that is The Phan Foundation, which was founded by Zoya Phan, his sister Bwa Bwa and her brothers Say Say and Slone. It is dedicated to the memory of their parents, and the lifetime of sacrifice they devoted, Padoh Mahn Sha [who was the General Secretary of the Karen National Union, at the time of his murder]  and Nant Kyin Shwe. The Foundation aims to fight poverty and provide education for Karen people from Burma, and it helps people in Burma and refugees, who continue to be forced to free their homes in the Thai border regions of Burma, and to achieve this, has four main objectives –  to alleviate poverty, to provide education, to promote human rights, and to protect Karen culture.  Much of that culture has being systematically destroyed as part of the Burmese regime’s policy of the ethnic cleansing of the Karen people. Visit www.phanfoundation.org  for more information, and ways of providing support.

Meanwhile, as it was Tuesday night, my program of Show music took place on the radio  – with Easter approaching, I decided to highlight many of the wonderful tracks from the musical ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’. For myself, the highlight of that was the performance of ‘Gethsemane’ from the show, which reminds me always of that dramatic scene from Mel Gibson’s movie ‘The Passion of the Christ’, where Christ is in the Garden of Gethsemane, shortly before his arrest, and he is pleading with God to ‘relieve Him from this yoke of destiny’ that has been placed upon Him.  I wish to share those lyrics with my readers:-

Jesus
I only want to say
If there is a way
Take this cup away from me
For I don’t want to taste its poison
Feel it burn me,
I have changed I’m not as sure
As when we started
Then I was inspired
Now I’m sad and tired
Listen surely I’ve exceeded
Expectations
Tried for three years
Seems like thirty
Could you ask as much
From any other man?

But if I die
See the saga through
And do the things you ask of me
Let them hate me, hit me, hurt me
Nail me to their tree
I’d want to know
I’d want to know my God
I’d want to know
I’d want to know my God
I’d want to see
I’d want to see my God
I’d want to see
I’d want to see my God
Why I should die
Would I be more noticed
Than I ever was before?
Would the things I’ve said and done
Matter any more?
I’d have to know
I’d have to know my Lord
I’d have to know
I’d have to know my Lord
I’d have to see
I’d have to see my Lord
I’d have to see
I’d have to see my Lord

If I die what will be my reward?
If I die what will be my reward?
I’d have to know
I’d have to know my Lord
I’d have to know
I’d have to know my Lord

Why, why should I die?
Oh, why should I die?
Can you show me now
That I would not be killed in vain?
Show me just a little
Of your omnipresent brain
Show me there’s a reason
For your wanting me to die
You’re far too keen on where and how
But not so hot on why
Alright I’ll die!
Just watch me die!
See how, see how I die!
Oh, just watch me die!

Then I was inspired
Now I’m sad and tired
After all I’ve tried for three years
Seems like ninety
Why then am I scared
To finish what I started
What you started
I didn’t start it
God thy will is hard
But you hold every card
I will drink your cup of poison
Nail me to your cross and break me
Bleed me, beat me
Kill me, take me now
Before I change my mind

[from ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ – Gethsemane]

One of those Mondays in a month when things get a little busy at the office – Committee meeting day, etc, although it was admittedly a little quieter than usual, thanks to a couple of absentees.

And meanwhile, the family weekend dramas continued – they say these things come in threes, so I suppose it should be no surprise to receive a phone call from eldest son James this morning – he was taking Shirley’s 90 year old mother to the Sunshine hospital [where Shirley was last weekend]. Over the weekend, she had fallen in the backyard, and in the process, had broken one of her arms [thank heavens it was not a hip!]. Apparently, in all of her 90 years, this was the first time Win have ever actually ‘broken’ anything on her body. What a pity to get this far, and then this happen!  Anyway, she was back home tonight, with her arm in plaster – and worrying about she was going to manage, cooking the Easter Sunday lunch for the family!!

As for myself, I managed three walks in a row this evening – commitments and weather have broken that pattern a little this year, but with the weight appearing to come down a little, that is encouragement to step up the program. Particularly when I learn that my cycling brother [just 2 years younger than myself] is working towards a cycle tour ‘across’ America next year!!! I hope he gets to do it, and survives the attempt!

Late yesterday, after my  Sunday afternoon radio show, I was home in time to see the closing stages of the Chinese Grand Prix [Formula One car racing]. Australia’s Mark Webber, because of poor qualifying times, etc on Friday and Saturday, had to begin the race from 18^th position on the starting grid. I think that when I came into the picture, he had got up about 10^th position. In fact, it was a sensational drive by Webber, who with less than a lap to go, powered his way into third position and a place up on the winner’s  podium, in a race won by another great drive by former World Champion Lewis Hamilton, and Webber’s ‘team mate’, Sebastian Vettel having to be satisfied with 2^nd, after winning both the Australian and Malaysian Grand Prix.     Meanwhile, it was around 7.30pm, when Susie left to return to Bendigo, I think she was aware that I was a little worried about her driving up the highway after dark – said she would message me when she reached the end of her journey [which she did]. Talking to her mother later, it seems Susie tried to see Jimmy yesterday – a visit that was not successful, and probably left her quite upset again.  However, after a chat at Goonawarra last night, and another spell at her job today, she did appear to be in a more positive frame of mind when she left tonight.  This ‘break’ has been forced upon her, and unfortunately, like we all do from time to time, she is going to have to accept the changed over time, as painful as I know that is going to be, Anyway, I was sad to see her leave the house again last night, even if it will only be for a couple of days this week, due to school holidays, etc.

Both Sunday night, and tonight, I did something out of character – watched a two part TV series – haven’t done that for quite a while, usually because they appear on a commercial; channel,  and I simply can’t be bothered trying to enjoy a show that is constantly interrupted by commercials. This one was on the ABC, so was uninterrupted!  Joys!!

It was the story of  the magazine that made history for what wasn’t being worn – courtesy of that nude male centrefold [of Jack Thompson]  –  .a  telemovie about ‘Cleo’ and its pioneering editor, Ita Buttrose, and in particular her interaction with the Packers [father and son].  Now Cleo is not a magazine that I have any shown any interest in – it was afterall a magazine for women, but the intended storyline attracted my attention. As one previewer noted,   ‘In 1972, two ambitious, young upstarts, Ita Buttrose and Kerry Packer, created Cleo, a bold and naughty magazine that became one of the most dramatic sensations in Australian publishing history’.  Titled ‘Paper Giants’,  it chronicled the mishaps and stumbling blocks along the way, whilst also highlighting the importance of a young Kerry Packer (Rob Carlton) in getting the magazine off the ground, as well demonstrating the relationship between Kerry, and his father, Sir Frank Packer, whom the staff in the organisation refer to as ‘God’. Looking at some of the scenes betrayed involving either Sir Frank or Kerry, in respect to their attitude towards the staff, one can imagine today’s laws of harassment, and gender bias, creating a field day for the  legal people!! But we are talking about the 1970s, and things & attitudes  in that respect were not far advanced.

Some great acting, particularly by Asher Keddie as Ita Buttrose, and Rob Carlton as Kerry Packer, although some critics have suggested he didn’t come over as ‘hard nosed’ as the real man, as the following preview of the show, the source of which I have mislaid, explains.

“Carlton’s an enjoyable actor, and his performance as Packer is a lot of fun, but it lacks the intimidating presence you expect of the big man. Carlton’s work here is similar to Felix Williamson’s Paul Keating in Hawke, it hit a lot of the right notes and got the look down pat but both those characters have an X factor that neither actor nails. The rest of the cast aren’t nearly as memorable as these two, with most of Ita’s staff getting a single title card listing their name and position and then fading into the background.

The two staff members we do spend time with are the long haired Andrew Cowell (Ian Meadows) whose persistence convinces Ita to bring him on board as Art Director, and Ita’s secretary Leslie Carpenter (Jessica Tovey) who may be based on a real person but felt more like a surrogate for Cleo’s readership at the time. Leslie’s relationship issues are the weakest part of the series, as she leaps from boring sex with bogan Muz to flirting with charismatic lawyer Mr. Ritchie (Matt Day). Leslie lacks much of a personality and the show grinds to a halt whenever we watch the effects of the magazine content wash over her (She just wants to know how to break up with her dud boyfriend! She sneaks a sex toy home from the office! She wants to nail the right man too!)

Paper Giants is a briskly paced romp for most of its run as it name checks historical events (The Beatles breaking up, Goth Whitlam, troops pulling out of Vietnam), pumps up the soundtrack and tells us amusing and interesting titbits about the formation of Cleo. It’s especially strong whenever Keddie and Carlton are on-screen together as Buttrose and Packer, who’s back and forth is amusing even if every scene seems to end with Packer saying ‘my dad won’t like it but I’ll convince him!’ Unlike the boring side adventures of Secretary Carpenter and her newly discovered womanhood, Ita’s home life is a necessary evil. Her husband who leaves her may be dull, and scenes where her daughter asks “can a girl really be a doctor?” and Ita replies “you can be anything you want” may be trite but it’s important to have the context for Ita’s work life.

Stories about historical events we know the gist of (there’s a magazine called Cleo, it will be created) can fall into the trap of trying to ring tension out of moments we already know the outcome of. If Ita has to tell her staff that their dream of making Australian Cosmo is out the window, we can’t be too worried for them because the series is called The Birth Of Cleo. Luckily Paper Giants instead uses most of its ‘moments from history’ as a showcase for fun writing and a truly wonderful performance from Asher Keddie. Keddie keeps everything rolling along even if it the show’s story gets a bit fuzzy around the edges. Paper Giants isn’t perfect, but it’s a lot of fun and one of the most entertaining Australian dramas to have come along in a while’.

I actually liked the role played by Jessica Tovey [of ‘Home & Away’ fame], although the description of  the part she plays above,  is  quite accurate.  A couple of notable instances I picked up on –  at one stage, Kerry Packer is involved in one of ‘heated’ discussions with brow-beaten associates, when a couple of cleaners come into his office [must be late in the day] to do their job –  they don’t stay around for long following the tirade of abuse that Packer screams at them.  Later in the film, after the death of his father, those same cleaners come in, whilst Packer is reminiscing about his father’s life  –  he never taught me anything but I learnt a lot from him  –  one of the cleaners ‘cautiously  offers his condolences to Kerry, saying he was a ‘great man’,  and is then  asked by Kerry, what he the cleaner really thought of his father –  ‘to be honest sir, I was a little scared of him’.  He and everyone else, I think!  There was also a very confronting and highly emotional scene, were Ita has to tell one of her longstanding and loyal employees that he no longer fits into the organisation’s profile, he has to go – not her choice, but Kerry told her to get rid of him, and the nature of that dismissal, man aged 47, big mortgage, difficult time to get another job, brings home the reality of the employment environment.

There’s lot’s more one could write about ‘Paper Giants’ – as a friend on Face book commented, she would have loved another 3 hours of the show. I sat down to watch it, knowing the basic outline of t6he story but not really knowing what to expect. I was suitably impressed, and particularly enjoyed the way events of the times were written into the production, with actual scenes from the 70s, and various brief interruptions as the ABC news headlines & newsreaders of the time suddenly came into a scene – I guess as a kind of  reference to the changing of society from a social, moral, fashion and political sense – with many famous and/or notorious quotations of the times inserted into the series, such as  ‘God may well save the Queen, but he’ll never save the Governor general’  or ‘Malcolm Fraser will undoubtedly go down in history as ‘Kerr’s Cur’  [November 11^th 1975  – I was standing in a flat in Brunswick Road, West Brunswick when those words were uttered, following the sacking of Gough Whitlam and the Labor Government, and the appointment of Malcolm Fraser as acting PM by the Governor General, Sir John Kerr]

Enough enough of all that – let’s see if we can insert a couple of photos from Paper Giants [incidentally, veteran Australian actor Tony Barry played the role of ‘God’ or  Sir Frank Paker, inthe series]  – below, Ita Buttress and Kerry Packer, played by Asher Keddie and Rob Carlton.

 Sir Frank Packer [Tony Barry]  and below, Leslie Carpenter [ Jessica Tovey, ex ‘Home & Away’ actress].

The forecast was for another beautiful Autumn day in this part of the world – I must say, it doesn’t feel or look that way at the moment [9.45 am], a little chilly, and rather overcast, but I’m sure the sun is there, just waiting to break through those clouds. Incidentally, I didn’t get to the local football match last night – a month of ironing took longer than anticipated [ I need a maid, or a woman, full stop[!!] –  however, the local team had a strong win, good start to the season!

My reconstructed cd version of the vinyl recording of Rimsky-Korsakoff’s ‘Russian Easter Overture’ let me down this morning – the cd ‘went on strike’ about halfway through the track I was playing. Thankfully, JS Bach [on a modern CD] came to the rescue, with some beautiful organ music. The remainder of my Sunday morning show went off without any such further problems!

A brief quotation from an article in this morning’s Age newspaper, sub-titled with the sentence that ‘Young people no longer know key Christian narratives – and we may be the poorer for it’. It goes on to say that ‘When Jesus went into the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed to God that he might be spared the horror of the cross, he might well have added that ‘by 2011, most kids won’t even know who I am…..they’ll be more concerned about why chocolate eggs are delivered by a rabbit’.  It’s considered  by many that it would be a miracle if children today actually knew anything about the ‘Bible’, yet at the same time, there is a broad view that our society will be poorer for that lack of knowledge and understanding of  the richness of many of the stories and human meaning behind the preaching of Jesus. Whether you believe in the Christian faith or not, many would agree that some of the stories display interpretations of good values, and the basic fundamentals of being kind and caring and thinking about your fellow human being. But these are discarded because they originate from the Bible or preachings of Jesus that people don’t want to know about. However, the article points out that the same moral values can be found in secular society, and they are more readily acceptable for that very reason – they are not tied to Christianity, or religion in general. The example is given from Gallipoli, and the story  of Simpson [John Simpson Kirkpatrick] and his donkey, who through the trenches of Gallipoli, rescued the injured time and again, until he himself was killed. Today’s children may not be aware, or want to know about the ‘Good Samaritan, but if Simpson was referred to in that manner – the Good Samaritan of Gallipoli –  the story would immediately be accepted and understood. As an aside to that article, the paper has included comments by the Anglican Reverend Jenny Nelson, of Christ Church, South Yarra [in Melbourne] where she highlights five stories from the Christian Bible which she considers still matter and are relevant today. Others will place a different interpretation, while still others will continue to discard them as myths and fairytales.  Her five stories are:

The Great Flood Story [Genesis: 6.9-9.29]: Noah builds an ark to save the world’s wildlife from a great deluge. Children love this story as it resonates with environmental issues.

The Exodus story [Exodus: 1.1-15.21]: Where Moses leads the israelites out of Egypt to the Promised Land. There are existential issues of oppression and freedom in this story.

The Nativity story: [Luke: 2.1-21]: The birth of Jesus. The story resonates with children and adults alike as it picks up on issues of the vulnerability of the human condition and the wonder of new life.

The Good Samaritan: [Luke 10:25-37]: A Samaritan takes care of a Jewish man who has been beaten up and left for dead, even though they are political enemies. The message is about loving one another.

The Easter story: [Matthew: 26: 26-28 and John: 20:1-18]: The death and resurrection of Christ. Ideas of betrayal, sacrifice, love and redemption are played out in the narrative. The growing popularity of the ANZAC dawn service [25 April, in Australia] may be a reflection of the community’s recognition of the importance of these ideas.

Interesting concepts, or perhaps simply the random plucking of comparisons of modern issues as justification for the continued acceptance of the Bible stories illustrated?  Depends on you personal point of view obviously.  An anthropologist from Melbourne’s Deakin University, for eg, suggests that ‘Bible myths are constantly reworked into contemporary stories’ [did you know, for eg, that the ‘Lord of the Rings’ is the retelling of the Book of Revelation, according to one view!]  I personally  found the ANZAC idea a valuable one.  All in all, much food for thought, whether on a religious or secular basis.

After the dramas of the past two weekends, this weekend has begun with a beautiful morning of sunshine, and I am currently ‘enjoying’ [to the degree that I occasionally enjoy it] a cup of coffee, and listening to a 1960’s former vinyl recording of Rimsky-Korsakov’s ‘Russian Easter Festival Overture’ – a wonderful piece of music, but because the recording is one I have transcribed from vinyl to CD, I’m not 100% confident that it will sound right when I play it on the radio tomorrow morning. Often such a ‘self-created’ CD sounds fine when I play it here at home, but on the more sophisticated and precise CD players in the radio studio, things do not always behave as one would hope. A little bit of background noise, one can cope with [hopefully the listeners also], but when the music simply stops mid-track, well, that is not so favourable. When I’m playing such cds, I always have a ‘good’ CD on hand to immediately take over from the rogue version!! Here’s hoping all goes well tomorrow! I actually have two versions of the same overture – a slightly longer one performed by the then [1960s] French National Radio Orchestra conducted by Charles Munch, and the other, by the Detroit Symphony Orchestra of the same period, conducted by Paul Paray. I prefer the former, however it is the most suspect, when it comes to an unexpected breakdown. So to be cautious, I will probably go with the American version.

Meanwhile, not sure where my Susie has gone today – appears to have been to her workplace, although she has said she no longer wishes to return there. Certainly she is not the ‘happy natured girl’ of a few weeks ago,and I feel bad, and concerned,  for her sake. In many respects she is better off I think, when studying or working, and these few days away from the university have possibly not come at the best time.

Last Thursday night, we had a very successful General Meeting of the radio station members and presenters, with one of our best turn ups of participants for some months – it was indeed pleasing to see so many new and ‘old’ members in attendance.  In my view anyway, all present were given every opportunity to have their say on any matters of concern to them, and to raise issues they considered relevant. I generally have found in the various organisations that I have been associated with, that it is usually those members who do not participate in activities, or attend meetings, that make the biggest noise in terms of complaints! Hopefully, this sees the beginning of a new phase of enthusiasm aimed at benefiting the overall future of the station in preference to simply satisfying a few inflated self-egos!!

Blues 2011 Season update: – Carlton has made two changes to the side that went down to Collingwood last week for this week’s big clash against Essendon at the this afternoon. Simon White returns to the side and has been named in the back pocket and he is joined by Lachie Henderson who will play his first AFL game of the season. The two players omitted from the team are Bret Thornton and Matthew Watson.Henderson had an interrupted pre-season after surgery prior to Christmas and he has played the first two VFL matches with the Northern Bullants after missing the majority of the pre-season matches.  Meanwhile, after playing two matches Matthew Watson will be back with the Northern Bullants in the VFL as part of his continuing development. Heath Scotland, who played his 200th AFL game in round one, will play his 150th game for Carlton today.

So it is back to the MCG this weekend for another huge match against another big rival. This time it is Saturday afternoon at the traditional time of 2:10pm against Essendon in Carlton’s second home game of the 2011 season. After a crowd of over 88,000 attended last Friday night’s away game against Collingwood, this is the chance for Carlton supporters to come out in force at this Carlton home game and give the team the support they deserve. Sorry Blues, in my ‘old age’ I will be watching from the comfort of my lounge room, though at the end of the coverage, I might even slip around to our local football ground, to watch the local team, Sunbury Lions, play it’s first game of the Ballarat Football League season – a night match, under lights at our Clarke Oval, as it is called. During this week, Carlton  membership reached 40,000 for the fourth year in a row, and  there is every chance 2011 will be a record membership year for Carlton.  In the meantime, my youngest son and myself will be on ‘opposite sides of the fence’ this afternoon, so to speak – he is the only member of my family who decided at a young age,  ‘not’ to support the Blues  – Adam is a keen Essendon supporter, and certainly as a boy, he had this Carlton supporter ‘reluctantly’, lol, taking him to see ‘his’ team play in preference to mine. Australian democracy extends to my family as well!!  I shall return a little later with an update on today’s game!!

Later this afternoon –  after a bit of shopping, time to watch from football.  Alas, not a good start for the Blues, just a couple of points in the opening quarter, compared to 3 goals to the Bombers –  before the telecast,  I received a text message from Ian, wishing ‘the Blues luck’ in today’s game. Sad to see two players [for Essendon] go off in the first quarter with knee injuries, which tend to be the most serious injuries suffered by AFL footballers these days.  By halftime, I was feeling a little brighter as my team started to get more into the game, and some of the players who had been down early, began to make their presence felt. At that stage, just 1 goal the difference, and the evenness of the two teams was more evident.  30 minutes later, after getting away to a lead of 8 points, the score at three quarter time saw Essendon one point in front – mores wasted opportunities by the Blues, they should have dominated that quarter but allowed the opposition to get back into the match. With half an hour to go, it’s anyone’s game!………………….then that final quarter, as the lead kept changing constantly.  Six minuites to go, the Blues in front by a point, then, a minute later a goal to Essendon, they are in front by 5 points. An immediate response by my team, with a running goal which puts the Blues back in front by a single point. For the last three minutes, the ball is taken by both teams from one end of the ground to the other, crucial mistakes by Carlton players [as has been happening throughout the match], including a final mistake by the player who had just kicked our final goal – an error that resulted in an opponent scoring a single point  – which, as the game ended a few seconds later, meant the match ended in a draw!!! So after just four rounds of AFL football this year, we have seen three drawn matches – in Australian football, that number of drawn games in an entire season would be rare [unlike soccer, for example]. I guess I should be happy – a draw is preferable to a loss, though really, in view of a number of bad mistakes and missed opportunities, Carlton should consider themselves lucky to have not been beaten!! A pity I had to watch this game on my own!  Final scores, quarter by quarter were:

Carlton Blues:              0.2.2     4.9.33     6.13.49      Final: 11.13.79

Essendon Bombers:    3.2.20  6.3.39   7.8.50 Final:  11.13.70.

To more serious matters, as I come close to completing a book I have been reading, off and on, over past weeks – called ‘Little Daughter’ and written by Burmese girl [of the Karen ethnic group] named Zoya Phan, it is her memoirs of survival as an oppressed member of her society in Burma, her times in the Thai refugee camps, and her eventual escape to the West. During a brief period of ‘relative personal peace’ despite the constant fear of being picked up by Thai police as an illegal immigrant, as she studies at a Bangkok university, Zoya compares the attitudes of other students with those of the Karen students studying with her. She writes:

‘They would turn up at college driving their own cars. They talked about going to expensive restaurants and the cinema and playing golf. They wore trendy designer clothes. Their parents were business people, doctors or diplomats. They had enjoyed freedom and privilege all their lives, whilst we had been in the jungle running from bullets. I wondered why. Why were people so different, just as an accident of their birth? I had been born a Karen, and I had faced  a life of fear, persecution and oppression. By accident of their birth those students had never faced one fraction of the hardship that we Karen had experienced. I had never being around people from such backgrounds before. They complained about the fact that they’d ripped their designer jeans; or their parents wouldn’t buy them the newest mobile phone; or that their car had got bumped on the street. And I thought to myself: “This is nothing. What are you complaining about?

I had been driven out of my homeland and shunted from refugee camp to refugee camp, places where I had nothing, absolutely nothing – not even a future. And here I was among people who seemed to have everything, yet they complained about trivial things. In fact, they seemed unable to appreciate the life of privilege with which they had been blessed. Sometimes they’d skip class or turn up late or they’d miss study deadlines and not even seem to care. I was amazed that people could treat education with such a lack of respect. We OSI scholars had fought so hard to be here. This education, this degree course – this was my dream. But to them, it was just another chapter in their lives. There were so many thousands in the refugee camps who would give anything to have a carefree life of opportunity like theirs. In among the designer clothes, the rounds of golf and the partying, there was never any mention of my country or its suffering. It wasn’t far away. It was just across the border. It was in the newspapers and on the TV news. These students had access to the internet and the global media, and there was no excuse for them not to know. But it was never once a topic of conversation at college.’ [pps. 238-9,: Little Daughter by Zoya Phan: pub 2009]

I have a friend, married to a Thai lady who spends six months of each year living in Thailand. I wonder what their view of the Karen refugees on the borders of their country with Burma has been over the past decade, when the problem was at it’s worst?   I wonder if those refugee camps still exist?  I must ask them about this before they return to Thailand for the Australian winter.

Meanwhile, Susie apparently went to work today, came home for her lunch break, but I was pleased that she was spending part of her weekend in that fashion. I think she had worked yesterday afternoon also, so at this point, she had presumably not ‘quit’, although that was her intention. I’m concerned that she is not eating very well – cooked her a meal tonight, but prior to eating it, she visited her girlfriend who lives nearby. I guess that kind of friendship is her sustenance at the present time, though hopefully the food will be eaten later tonight.  As for ‘my’ intention to go out and have a look at the local football match, decided I was comfortable at home. At our ‘rural’ style football grounds, it is possible to park one’s card around the perimeter of the football ground, and watch from the vehicle. However, I knew from past experience that the available spots to do that, especially for a one-off night match, would be taken quickly,  and I really didn’t feel in the mood to stand around in the cool April night air, though, I might well change my mind, and wander around to see the closing stages of the game!! One can usually stroll into the ground at three quarter time, without paying the admittance price, though I really don’t mind supporting the local competition in that fashion.

One of the principal Art Prizes in Australia is the Archibald Prize for portraits, and this year’s winner was announced today. Quite obviously, if I was one of the judges, I would no doubt make a completely different choice to the painting that is generally declared the winner. A picture of the  veteran Australian artist Margaret Olley has won the prestigious Archibald Prize for portraiture in 2011.  The picture by Ben Quilty beat 40 other finalists to the $50,000 prize from more than 800 entrants. Quilty embraced the elderly artist after he was awarded the in Sydney today. Interestingly, he commented in a TV interview this evening, that his biggest disappointment was that she refused his request to pose nude for the portrait. I’m not really quite sure why he would even make such a request, in view of the fact that the portrait only seems to be of the frail 88 year old  woman’s face anyway!  Quilty said he first met Olley when she was a guest judge for the 2002 Brett Whiteley Travelling Art Scholarship, which he won. “It’s quite moving to be here today,” he said, adding that Olley had been a “very maternal figure to me, but most of all a friend”. Meanwhile, one rather ‘cruel’ headline, in the ‘Courier Mail’ [Brisbane] headed it’s report of the Award by ‘Portrait of artist, as ‘old bag’ wins’, though in fairness, that was the way Margaret Olley described the painting herself, when she first saw it – “there’s the old bag”, she said!! Anyway, here’s the winning portrait.

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A portrait of Margaret Olley by artist Ben Quilty is the winner of this year’s Archibald Prize / Courtesy Art Gallery of NSW.

I’ve a look at some of the other entries, and yes, as I suggested, I would probably make a number of other choices, but the judges of these kind of competitions always seem to have a different view of what ‘is best’! Personally, I liked the picture of Jessica Watson, but then I am biased towards the girl is sailed solo around the world, and I think I also prefer a portrait that has a more natural almost photogenic look. Come to think of it, that one looks so real, I wonder if it is a photo!! There’s alsoi a very strange portrait of Aussie runner Cathy Freeman, just not sure how to describe that one. Perhaps I’ll just leave it at that, with the comment, that compared to some of the other finalists, Margaret Olley doesn’t look too bad at all!!! 

Actually, it may not show up on here, but the portrait below is the one I like the most – I heard a story about this subject a few days ago, thouhh the details have slipped my mind – apologies if the picture doesn’t show up.

 

titled ‘My Jack’ and pained by , by Jenny Sages, must see if I can find any comment about it – another example of a more natural painting. A few others in that category include one of Quenton Bryce, our current Governor General. Would love to be able to display all the finalists on here, just to illustrate the vast genre of different portrait styles that get submitted to this competition.

I think I mentioned a day or so ago, that my brother [the extremely fit one!!] who likes to go for the occasional bike ride in various parts of the world, had planned a ride in Japan next month, with his wife [who is also a pretty fir pedalar – that spelling doesn’t look right@!!!]. However, owing to the recent calamities in that unfortunate nation, they decided to defer their ride [having a particular concern about food contamination] until another tour in October. With that in mind, Robert sent me a copy of an email received from the guy who is the organisers of these tours in Japan that Robert and Evelyn intended to participate in. That email presents another perspective of life in Japan over the past traumatic four weeks, and I sure my brother won’t mind I sharing some of those thoughts on these pages. An interesting aside made by Robert was that “While feeling a bit bad about having pulled out of May, as clearly the locals need the moral support of visitors; on the other hand, can you ever trust what the Japanese authorities are telling you is the reality”. Meanwhile, the writer of the email, and presumably, tour organiser, was  John Morrell, and this is what he had to say.

HI All,  Just thought I would touch base with you regarding Japan and what has happened.
 I returned yesterday from a bike trip in Shikoku, which the riders, who were very well informed about the difference between Shikoku (southern Japan) and Tohoku (northern Japan), decided not to cancel. All the people we met in Shikoku had the issue upper most on their minds even though they were a long way away from the disaster area. They were very glad we came and showed support. On top of this the riders had a wonderful holiday with great weather and great riding.
There was an inordinate level of emotion being shown by a people who usually are very reserved. In one inn, the owners wife sang us a song during dinner that the local wife’s would sing in that area hundreds of years ago. It was very moving and completely out of the ordinary,
harking back to a desire for simple trouble free times.
 The whole country is in mourning over what has happened and even though it has dropped of the radar here (except for Fukushima) over there it is an incredible open wound. Newspapers and televisions are completely
dominated by the disaster and its aftermath. And of course the unnerving series of “aftershocks” that keep happening daily. The scale of the tsunami is horrendous, as everyone knows, but its impact on the Japanese psyche is deep and maybe permanent. The ocean quite simply swallowed up huge areas of northern Honshu on a level never
experienced in modern times in Japan. This was not a wave in the normal sense, it was a surge, an oceanic river raging over the land. The height of the wave varied depending on local topography. In one valley it
reached a staggering height of 38 metres!
 One detail not reported here is that the land area in Tohoku, where the disaster happened, actually dropped about 30 cm at the time of the earthquake, meaning not only did the sea water rise up from the extraordinary turbulence of the plates moving on the ocean floor, but
the land sunk, doubling the impact of the surge of dirty cold ocean water. The colour itself mostly stemmed from the turbulence raging over the ocean bed off shore, which is mostly made of black sand.
 I have travelled these type of coastal valleys for many years and I now look at them with a level of distrust. They are prime alluvial valleys and fishing ports in a land dominated by mountains. In many cases the populations are mostly old, as the young leave to pursue a life in the
big cities. Many of the dead and missing were old, unable to escape.  There were also a large number of young and fit men lost. Many of these men are heroes who, after rescuing people to higher ground, returned to try and help other people to frail to escape themselves, only to be
swallowed by the madness of raging ocean water where it shouldn’t be and the debris being tossed around by it.
 These coastal societies have been decimated and recovery is not really an option as those who make life tick over, are mostly gone, as are there jobs, homes and lives. The fishing boats are smashed and the once fertile land is still covered in salt water. For the hundreds ofthousand in shelters, there futures are now a mystery.
The quiet peace of these valleys has been replaced by a deep fear of the exposure to the ocean and the ever present sea walls designed to protect against tsunamis now seem almost pitiful.
Away from the disaster area and throughout Japan there economic activity has dried up, cherry blossom parties, weddings, holidays etc all cancelled in most cases. Most foreigners have left and inbound tourism has dried up completely.  Unfortunately, a lot of this reaction overseas is hysterical and not related to any of the facts. Much of the reporting about shortages of fuel and water were plain wrong. As well as this, there are no radiation health issues whatsoever outside of the effected area and there are no
transfers of product outside of this area. The problem is that radiation poisoning plays on our fears of the hidden and unknown. An unseen creeping enemy that you seemingly cant protect against. In fact, the low levels of radiation found, for example in Tokyo, if you were exposed to them for a year, would amount to the same amount of radiation you would be exposed to on a flight between Sydney and Tokyo!
Unfortunately this international reaction is very real and in my opinion, the Fukushima nuclear power plant will be in the news for some time and I don’t expect Japanese inbound tourism to pick up for at least two years. In many ways this disaster has changed both Japan itself and
the international perception of what Japan is. DFAT still has a no travel warning to Tokyo.
Accordingly, I have to face the reality of where my business, Journey into Japan is heading over this period. Since the disaster, I have had virtually no inquiries, and I would usually receive anything from 4-6 inquiries per week from Australia and around the world. Many of these
would turn into bookings for our tours……..” and he goes on from there talking about which tours etc, are cancelled, and so on. 

An interesting, I thought,  perspective of the situation in Japan. This an one or two other blogs I have read recently, including an excellent description by an English girl teaching in Japan, have added a more personal touch tol the, as described above, hysterical reporting in some quarters. I thank those writers for their contributions.

One of today’s news features was the announcement by Prime Minister, Julia Gillard [in a  speech to the Sydney Institute] that ‘war’ is to be  declared on idleness, revealing she will use the May 10 budget to press Australians to “pull their weight” and not give in to welfare dependency and economic exclusion.  In other words, the suggestion is [which many of us would agree with] that many people who accept welfare payments for a myriad of reasons that they supposedly can’t work to.   The Prime Minister tonight vowed to use the prosperity of the mining boom to fund programs to boost workforce participation, arguing that many people on disability and other pensions should be working, and in fact were fully capable of doing so.  She said taxpayers should not have to fund welfare for people capable of supporting themselves, and that she would offer training opportunities as part of a push to “entrench a new culture of work”.

An interesting concept, which the Opposition leader in true fashion,  has also jumped upon, claiming that the PM is merely echoing the Coalition policy, except that she has no plan to implement the declaration, compared to the Opposition. Of course we would expect Tony Abbott to immediately get on the attack to any proposals from t6he Government – unfortunately, that is the one aspect of his leadership style that I am coming to dislike thoroughly. Having said that, I would much like to see a greater effort than has existed in the past go into such a program. Australia has a very generous attitude towards welfare recipients despite the various restrictions etc, which to my mind usually disadvantage those who least deserve to be disadvantage, while others are able to get away with unfair practices, etc

As would be reported  in tomorrow’s media, in her speech last night, Ms Gillard declared that Labor was “the party of work, not welfare” and placing respect for work and a fair go at the centre of the national policy agenda. While she conceded there would always be some Australians who were unable to work because of disability, Ms Gillard said it was a “social and economic reality” that some people who could work would not. “Relying on welfare to provide opportunity is no longer the right focus for our times,” the Prime Minister said. “In today’s economy, inclusion through participation must be our central focus.”  She said the nation’s strong economy provided a perfect opportunity to target people stuck on welfare with reforms based on “high expectations\ that everyone who can work, should work”.

For myself, with the prospect of retiring after 40+ years of employment, I never really had any desire to not work, i.e., to spend my life sitting around without any work commitments at the expense of the rest of us. It was enough for me to ‘suffer’ through three periods of retrenchment since 1996, to have any desire to do ‘nothing’ on a fulltime basis. Admittedly, as I approach retirement I’m looking forward to not working  full time, think I’ve earned that,  and want the opportunity to do other things in my life, and to get away from the daily traffic snarls and pressures of getting to and from a job. But the idea of having spent the entirety of one’s life basically doing nothing of value by choice, while others paid for that ‘lifestyle’ simply leaves a very sour taste in my mouth!

As for today, it was a difficult period up until mid-afternoon, when I finally had some communication with Susie – up until then, I’d been genuinely concerned as to where she had been since late yesterday [or more importantly, whether she was okay, others in the family didn’t seem to be able to offer much information]. Anyway, the latter part of the day was less stressful, and I was able to return home & cook a meal for the two of us.  With school holidays on at present, her teacher training placement days [Wed-Friday] were on hold, so she was only required at the university up north for the first two days of the week. It did seem that for the duration of this year’s study, she might need to be more dependent on her Dad in a financial sense [the part time weekend job in Sunbury may not be available for much longer] but that did not concern me, obviously, while I was I in a position to assist, I would continue to do so.

After a poor sleep over night, ,I could have happily done without a meeting to go to tonight, however the Family History Society committee meetings are usually well controlled and short, under Peter Free’s direction, and pleasingly tonight was no exception.  I have been involved with this group since Peter established it back in 1984 after he had run a course on family history at the local Leisure Centre – because of the interest that course generated amongst the participants, he decided to form the Society, and most of the initial membership consisted of his former ‘students’ –  there are still three of us involved! Over the year’s since, I’ve been involved on the various committees in one form or another, usually as Treasurer, or editor of the group newsletter, and a few years ago, wrote up a ‘history’ of the Society for it’s 20^th anniversary. Oddly, on this occasion, I’ve never really had any desire to undertake the main leadership role [as President, about from a few months late in 2010 as ‘acting President’ when the group was under threat of collapse] –  mainly because, as a person who prefers to work ‘behind the scenes’ rather than up front as the public face of an organisation, the kind of roles I’ve undertaken, allowed me to achieve that aim – work for the organisation, but do so behind the scenes! The exception to that ‘rule’  involved my 22 years on school councils, which included almost 8 years as President of two separate councils.  I think the difference there, was that despite the importance of the School Council President role, the major spokesperson generally at those two schools throughout those years was the School Principal. I guess I made my strengths to be administrative and conduct of meetings, etc, rather than in ‘public relations’ – other Presidents might have a different style, the opposite in many cases. Despite that, I think I proved to be relatively successful in those roles.

Anyway, on top of all that, I had a relatively early night after a bit more reading of a book written by a former refugee of Burma  – more about that in a day or two.

Did you know that a dream is a wish your heart makes?   Great lyrics to a little song I found on an album I played a track from tonight – of all things, it was from the soundtrack of Walt Disney’s ‘Cinderella’. The lyrics go like this, with words and music by Mark David et el:- 

A dream is a wish your heart makes/When you’re fast asleep/In dreams you will lose your heartaches/Whatever you wish for, you keep/Have faith in your dreams and someday/Your rainbow will come smiling through/No matter how your heart is grieving/If you keep on believing/The dream that you wish will come true………….

………….The dream that you wish will come true

Well, I suppose it was a fairy story, but I always maintain, that you gotta have a few dreams, because dreams mean hope, and hope means something to look forward to!!  [Bill’s philosophy!]

I also played a couple of tracks from that great Danish entertainer, the late Victor Borge – from a selection of performances all recorded without the prior knowledge of the audience, and with the performances not actually planned for recording,  there is a guarantee of spontaneity in the outcome. His production consisted of a piano, a stool, a microphone and Borge himself – a talented musical comedian.  Played two selections tonight – sample of his ‘Comedy in music – requests’, and also  his famous ‘Mozart Opera by Borge’, which I have to admit to attempting to perform myself one night [minus the piano] at a church camp!! Not sure if the audience really took to the Borge sense of humour [or perhaps it was the person trying to imitate Borge, that they did not take to!!!].

Meanwhile, on a more serious note, there is a major campaign going on at present with respect to the use of poker machines, and attempts to force through parliament certain restrictions on their use. Naturally, the ‘gambling’ industry is mounting their own campaign in opposition. The ‘Get-Up’ organisation in particular, together with people like Andrew Wilkie MP, the Independent Member for Denison [whose election campaign I recall included promises to try and introduce anti- poker machine into parliament if he was elected]  are very vocal in the matter – as their literature states, in seeking support that    ‘What are we fighting for? The industry spends millions of dollars designing poker machines to be as addictive as possible – to give problem gamblers as little chance as possible to kick a habit that can destroy families. That’s why we must give these families simple tools to help them make their own choices, including a system where gamblers pre-commit how much they want to spend on a given day (known as ‘pre-commitment’).  The clubs industry is one of the most powerful in Australia. Its political influence is impossible to overestimate, and it will fight to the last penny to keep making a fortune at the expense of Australian families. But with your support I know we can build a campaign that proves the voices of the people can be louder then those of vested interest’.  Wilkie included the following story in his promotion.

‘A mother recently gave a searingly honest account of her rapid descent into pokies addiction at the Joint Select Committee on Gambling Reform that I chair. She had gambled all her life without a problem, but that changed when she was introduced to poker machines. In her words, she changed from a happy-go-lucky, socially-active mother and friend to a restless, isolated, depressed and suicidal woman. The nurse spent her days gambling on pokies, only breaking to pick up the kids from school and grab less than two hours sleep before heading to work the night shift in an intensive care unit at her local hospital. I have heard countless variations of this story during my years pushing for action on poker machines.   These personal stories are the reason we need to clean up this industry, in particular with policies like gamblers nominating how much they are prepared to lose, and maximum withdrawal limits from ATMs in gambling venues. But while I have an agreement with the Prime Minister to make this happen, the fight is not yet won. Some MPs have even told me that they don’t believe strong poker machine reform will ever happen: they simply can’t believe that an industry this powerful, with this much money at its disposal, could ever lose. It will take a huge public movement to stop the powerful gambling lobby from getting its way. I hope you’ll be part of it, and that you’ll ask your friends and family to join too”.  Obviously, they have a tough fight on their hands -against the power of well financed corporations, etc, and perhaps in some quarters, crime and corruption influences.

Having noted all that, I was thinking about my own son’s quite heavy involvement at present in the ‘competitive sport’ of poker [though not the poker machines themselves], and was pleased to note some remarks he placed online recently in response to someone else. While, in many ways, I sometimes wish he wasn’t so heavily involved in this ‘poker’ game,  the following comments made the other night, give one some degree of confidence, that his attitude at present has a lot of sense attached to it.  Hope it stays that way!

 He commented that    “Another win at poker. Money again 🙂   I don’t expect to back it up next weekend – I do know my luck. It’s not high. I do know my stats thou. The last five times I have played at that venue I have won three games, got second and lost one. The one that I lost was the game u played. I was first out. So stay away lol. It went win win last second first and now I’m due for a shit game. Stats all add up to me losing. I’m a stats and odds man. Don’t like my chances   Idea/advice is – Just have Fun, don’t get drunk, and no expectations, just knowledge that you are good enough to win”.

Now Susan returned to Sunbury last night – obviously arrived home while I was at the radio station, but no sign of her afterwards, in fact she didn’t return, so had presumably was staying with friends.  While she is of course an adult, as a Dad, one would sometimes like to have some indication as to likely movements, in broad terms at least.  So tonight, it took some time to get asleep – every car in the area had me wondering if it was Susie returning, and then an eventual early morning wake up [on Wednesday] at 4am, with my outside welcoming lights still on, no chance of any further sleep. Always was a worrier about a myriad of things, so hopefully I can be excused for a little bit of worry on this occasion. Unusual to have no form of contact, nor had her Mum heard from her tonight. One will just have to wait for another day, and a few hours to pass before any enquiries, obviously had an agenda previously planned.