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Well it’s time to say goodbye. I have decided to call it a day...blogging wise that is. The poor attempt I have been making this year does not make a well written (or received) blog. And it was time to close off that (almost) 5 year chapter that simply has run its course. And it’s not that I do not want to write or share anymore. There was never a specific reason why I started to blog other than a creative outlet. It was always about things I liked and I thought it would evolve over time like an organic diary or collection of observations. And it did. And I was very proud of some of the entry’s I wrote. Especially (but not limited to) the History of OZ TV...documenting my year of cookery (and I suggest anyone who has ever burnt toast to give it a crack – you just need time to cook – not skills, you get that over time but alas I digress for the last time) all that CAMP shit that I think makes grey dull life pink and funny, oh and my reviews of the Eurovision – so much fun!
Ok so I decided not to do Eurovision posts this year as slowly the crazies, loons and all that European colour has faded away in recent times making it a duller song competition. But then of course there was Jedwood from Ireland ( I could bloody hit that Louie for fuelling that sad mental fire). But there was some great songs this year from Hungary, Serbia ( I can’t stop playing the 1960’s sounding Caroban – it’s just a happy uplifting song and yes the Serbian version), Austria and Switzerland. It didn’t surprise me that Dana International (Israel) didn’t move past the semi finals – I mean really Darling Ding a Dong was a song back in 1970’s from Holland. And crying out loud Europe if you are a small former soviet/eastern Bloc country only speaks your language just SING IN ENGLISH! Actually it didn’t work for Blue this year so ignore me. Baku next year (Christ).
Before going I have found 2 excellent sites to share:-
Rule knitannia - The well stitched in time knitting blog from my old mate, the very talented Eddie in London Town – cushions, crowns and (iced) confections ( to name a few knitted creations) What not to love!
http://ruleknitannia.blogspot.com/
Everything is Terrible – unlike its title this is one of the best collections of camp, bizarre shit and plain funny clips from the net – I so love it:-
http://www.everythingisterrible.com/
In closing, I still can’t believe I made it almost 5 years. I would have never seen that coming. Neither in that time Apple making essentially a mini handheld computer (that makes calls) that has become part of 21st life. Face book, twitter, four square, linked in (etc) are the new media and social interaction. Google is the new scary giant, so then is India and China. The Australian Dollar is worth more than the US Dollar (and the average house price in Australia is over half a million AUD in most capital cities) but our AUD buys less than before. America finally getting a black president. Australia getting a female Prime minister. Kate and Wills getting hitched (Oh didn’t she look beautiful and who thought of trees in the abbey – fabulous). Life is changing so fast and it’s sometimes it gets scary. But it’s also gets better. As I'm getting older and I'm appreciating the weekend and randomn days off much more, laughing with your mates, a well needed hug from your partner and a home cooked meal - for me it would never be superseded by what a corporation or technology can boast.
So that’s it. Thank you for all for reading and feedback (though I would have happily welcomed more!). So as I’m listing to Nina from Serbia singing Caroban again (it’s on repeat and Andy’s away on business so no complaints) it’s only right to say Do viđenja prijatelj (Goodbye friend).
X b aka the classic eccentric (Brett).
So on Sunday it was pride march in Melbourne town - more of the Midsumma madness. Andy & I sent our regrets as we were gardening that day. Before you say why we were not in attendance I figured I can miss a gay march after being out of the closet for almost 20 years [this year readers] & seen a few sights in that 20 years in the community & I didn’t need to go and see more. Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with the march with the many groups represented such as the bears nor PFLAG/dykes on bikes/gay parents/mature men nudists [wearing g’s no less – or they’ll get arrested] nor a support group for trannies of Dimboola or lesbian separatists Baptist church [Ah[Wo]men!]- Its just that they represent groups that I don’t relate to. So it’s only apt that I was reading a blog article titled Create a Unifying Term for the Community in the Queers united blog [http://queersunited.blogspot.com ] basically calling for a united name for the GLBTIQA – Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Intersex, Questioning ( I know - how the fuck did that one get in - NB some know this as Queer but in OZ its Questioning) and Asexual. Why don’t we just call it GLBTIQASupercalifragilisticexpialidociousfuckingstupidname community as the adding of the letters has become too ridiculous for...words.
Now I totally agree with one unified name for the community however where do you start? Queer on the face of it seems to fit the bill but it’s just too queer for words and too 1970’s. Same with those nicknames of ‘Nancy’ &‘Mary’ as they are old ladies names now. Faggot rhymes with maggot too much & poofs reeks of the 1960’s Carry on Films [actually I don’t mind that one really as you can make it poofie, poofta, wooly woofter, woofter & my latest poofer however even I concede that this may be a bit of a setback for the community at large]. Bent really means you're a criminal. Friends of Dorothy missed the bus ride years ago or should I say the house ride. Queen refers to her majesty [we are NOT a republic yet]. Funny, that way inclined & effeminate is just that & let’s face it gay really refers to homosexual men. Well all I have mentioned do relate to gay men as gay men even when being oppressed need to have the spotlight[s].Maybe then it’s time we split the community into groups instead of unifying. Do lesbians & gays really need or want to share the dinner table? Do transsexuals really want asexuals sharing their upstairs/downstairs flat too? Do bisexuals want to mix with intersexes over cocktails & canapes? And where do we put the "questionables" – give them a map to Gaytown with a exit back to Normalville when they have had enough? Let alone all the others we are yet to include? In this global community is it not time that we have enough players to stand alone? You would think so if you trawl through all those specific groups in Face book - Stick to your own kind day say I ? Or Do I.
Before declaring that I’m becoming a gay separatist on the Isle of Brett the Gay Poofer Gardener bar & grill theme park I was drawn back to an Aesop tale – The Bundle of sticks from the 6th century [ taken from From http://www.bartleby.com/17/1/72.html ]
AN OLD man on the point of death summoned his sons around him to give them some parting advice. He ordered his servants to bring in a faggot of sticks, and said to his eldest son: “Break it.” The son strained and strained, but with all his efforts was unable to break the Bundle. The other sons also tried, but none of them was successful. “Untie the faggots,” said the father, “and each of you take a stick.” When they had done so, he called out to them: “Now, break,” and each stick was easily broken. “You see my meaning,” said their father.
Interesting as it mentions ‘broken faggots’ and the moral being how united we stand but divided we fall. There is a real need for the community to still march down the street affirming our identity while accepting our diversity too. I think we need more time on the name. Now that’s a conversation for the 21st century - Oh Boy/girl/ladyboy/unassigned !
Michael Cunningham’s novel The hours was the connection of three women over different decades and how they manage with a day in their respective complex lives. It was well written and one of the few times that the film and the book were identical twins of one another. He writes in a style that is simple to read but it is not simple writing or subjects he is dealing with. Winning a Pulitzer prize is no simple feat.In Land’s end, a non fiction work, his writing style is again apparent. He pieces together an array of stories, prose, history and his own experiences of Provincetown (or P town as it’s known – another example of simplification of a word - the laziness of today). The writer was blessed with being a ‘P town’ resident for more than just a summer on the cape (unlike most vistors there).For those not in the know (or maybe I should say the ‘ho’) Provincetown is a gay (getaway) haven on the tip of the east coast of the USA. It’s a picturesque ex-fishing town full of salt box and cape cod cottages surrounded by the sea from all around as its at the end of a peninsula. Packed in summer and dead in winter, Michael literally writes about the town and its various incantations it takes on. Whether it is due to seasons, the remoteness, or just being the last stop at the (actual) end of the road this is not your average town.Now the older I’m getting the more I want to know about the history. In this book some interesting facts emerge. For example the site of P town was actually where the pilgrims first landed before Plymouth Rock. However let me stress this to you that this book is not an historical record more so an overview of the town. Personally I would have liked to have read more of it's past but the author points out that it is merely another facet of the town uniqueness. It is the accounts of the day to day running of the town that is the authors focus. From the A & P with gay cashiers (who double as drag queens at night) to the grand old town hall (the benches out the front used to be called the meat rack in the 70's), the old fishing wharf which was once the lifeblood of the town, the golden horde that is Marine Specialities (if you ever lost anything you’ll probably find it here) the ghost of art communes or simply the dunes, the sand and the sea, with all that interact with it.It’s a lovely read with its never ending cast of its residents, or should I say all the driftwood that has managed to float in and out the bay itself, some staying more than a summer. 4 pilgrims out of 5Thanks to the lovely Brigid lending me this copy.
I was 19 when I first read the Tales of city series. For me it was like nothing I had ever read before. I loved all of the characters, and how their lives intertwined in such a lovely way. How they all were dancing to the same tune…just in different dance halls across the city. Almost a San Francisco symbiosis. That was almost 15 years ago. When Eddy (http://tummyguts.blogspot.com/) recently recommended this book for me I became quite excited. As a huge fan of Tales of the city it was the first book in ages that I actually rushed out to purchase for my reading pleasure (ok after the last Harry Potter novel).
Armistead Maupin continues the city tales after a break of more than 20 years...this time only focusing on Mouse - Mr Michael Tolliver. He's 55 now and alive, living with HIV and still being a big queen – or in Mouse’s eyes – a big Nellie/Mary/Fag.
Unlike the other novels this book is only from his perspective. Yes other characters are there but not like before. I don’t know if Armistead changed his writing style in the post AIDS world or has purposely decided not to use the usual format of inter-related stories/lives/characters. To be honest I was actually surprised that he even wrote this novel after a 20 year break – I thought he would have left this all behind (whether he produced this from his own doing or it was a requirement in a contract I don’t know) but the edge that Tales once had is lost – I don’t think it’s to do with his writing however more so a reflection of society in 2007.
Still though it’s a fairly good read. I like the fact the some of the old characters come back in…even though a few more have been killed off. And I do like the overall comment Armistead has made about gay life, getting older and the world today from an old 1960's baby boomer radicals perspective. For me it still hasn’t answered entirely the question of what happened to ? the many colourful and rich characters he created. Rather it’s a commentary of how the remaining have survived in a very different post-9-11-Bush-for-president-world to when they met and became family.
Three and a half hearts out of five.
