Singing to the world, a simple message to my girl
Posted by cacophony in : Making News , 1 comment so far
Call it curiosity, call it voyeurism, but I always read the public notices section of newspapers. It’s often a good source of stories and it’s a bit of a cultural barometer.
After a while, I begin to notice patterns in the notices and they make me wonder. The department store that keeps apologising for printing the wrong price in its catalogues - are they really mistakes? Why does this person want to change their name? How desperate would you have to be, to advertise for an Egg Donor in the newspaper? Why is it the only place people seem to publicly thank Saint Joan?
But by far, my favourite notices this year have come from a couple: J and P. Their notices are always short and to the point, something like: “P, Call on me tonight, after 12. - J” or “J, Ring me on Wednesday. I’ll be awake. Love P” I have no way of knowing who these people are or why they are communicating through the public notices. Is it an extramarital affair? Is one of them deaf? Or homeless? Did they meet through the newspaper somehow? They give nothing away, yet I feel like I know them.
I thought about putting in a notice once, asking them to get in touch with me so I could find out why, maybe write their story, but I decided against it.
I guess I like them just the way they are.
Blood sports
Posted by cacophony in : Sport & Leisure , 4 comments
After a bloody weekend in the AFL, it’s timely to ask whether the violence seen recently in junior football games is just our boys emulating their heroes?
How can we expect our teenagers to play fair when there are continual calls for the “blood” to be brought back to AFL?
Ticking the boxes
Posted by cacophony in : My life , 3 commentsWell, it’s done. Today, I collected the last Census form from my collection district. A little bit of paperwork and I’ll be done for another five years.
Today was the final day that collectors had out in the field and I saw more yellow satchels today than I have at any other time in the past five weeks. I’m glad I’m not the only one that leaves things to the last minute.
It’s been an experience like no other. I’ve learnt a bit about the people in my public housing block, a few words of Arabic, patience, persistance and a smile will get you through most doors. I’ve learnt to be more organised (having upwards of 200 bits of paper upon your person can do that to you).
As I left the block (that I affectionately call tetris, for its skewed shape) for the last time today, I felt a little sad that it was all over. I know it sounds corny but I feel like I’ve made 163 friends. Some people were suspicious, others terse, and two people shut the door in my face, but overall, the people were welcoming, kind; almost proud of being involved in such a big project.
People often try to avoid me in my line of work. It is refreshing to see the world outside is not always like that.
Star quality or an askerisk in the backside?
Posted by cacophony in : Entertainment , 2 comments
Does the star rating system on films, music and television actually help you make a decision? Does it undermine critical writing?Once, twice, five times a lady
Posted by cacophony in : Entertainment , add a commentAthenaeum Club
Seeing your heroes in the flesh doesn’t get any less exciting, even when you’ve seen them many times before. I was fortunate enough to catch the only Melbourne performance of Deborah Conway’s all-female revue Broad on Wednesday at the Athenaeum.
The format is simple: five chicks on chairs with their instruments. Each has an opportunity to sing two or three of their own tunes, with backup from the other women, and some cover songs together. In between, Deborah - half chairwoman, half matron - asks questions of the performers about life, love and music.
Deborah Conway is radiant. This is her brainchild and she is clearly proud of it. The plays fan favourite String of Pearls, new songs and a lullabye she wrote for her three girls.
Ella Hooper seems quieter than at previous gigs with her band Killing Heidi. She sings two songs from her new album, talks about songwriting with her brother and life on the road. She wails, she stamps her foot, she bares her vampire teeth. She says she had a Deborah Conway record when she was a kid.
Kate Miller-Heidke is a virtual unknown in these parts but she has been working in her native Brisbane for at least a couple of years. She is trained in jazz and opera but turned her back on “high art” to write pop songs with quirky turns of phrase. Though she is the youngest and least experienced performer in Broad, she seems to be trying to make up for it by being a show pony. She is clearly talented but of all the women, she comes closest to throwing out the delicate balance of big voices (and egos, no doubt).
Melinda Schneider is a born performer. The daughter of a copper dad and a yodelling mum, she sings youthful country songs. She belts out The Story of my Life and Sometimes it Takes Balls to be a Woman with a grin and a sequined shrug.
Mia Dyson has soul. Her songs often start with the unearthly warble of a slide guitar and the first note from her lips is always a shock, like it’s unbelieveable such a deep, earthly sound could come from such a little girl. She is the daughter of a guitar-maker Jim Dyson and unsurprisingly, her voice and guitar are inseperable. She plays her breakthrough hit Parking Lots. It is still running through my head, 24 hours later.
This was the second Broad tour (the first one featured Sara Storer, among others) so I’m sure it will come around again.
Location:
87 Collins St
Melbourne, VIC 3000
Australia
(03) 9654 3200
Is blogging the new black?
Posted by cacophony in : Entertainment , 4 commentsStatistics show…
Posted by cacophony in : My life , 1 comment so farFor the past few weeks, I’ve been leading a double life. At nights, I’ve been masquerading as a census collector in a North Melbourne public housing high rise. It involves walking up forty flights of stairs twice a week with a satchel full of forms, banging on 163 doors and communicating - with as few English words as possible - what on earth I’m doing there. Luckily, most of them have seen the ads with Ernie Dingo in them and recognise the yellow satchel that is my everpresent, lurid friend.
I signed on because I know the census is important; especially so because many of the people in North Melbourne public housing are refugees that desperately need the services that governments provide. But I could not have guessed the challenges - and the inspiration - I would find up there.
The language barrier was expected so the ABS provided me with Arabic-speaking social worker Khalid, who is part translator, part bodyguard and a handy second pair of hands. Most of the door knockers are broken so Khalid taps on the steel frame with a $1 coin that he stores in his ear between flats. There is an astonishing mix of languages in the building, though, and often we just end up yelling “census” or “turriqe” (Somali word for census) through the door.
The amount of paperwork is also a problem for me, as anyone who has seen my work desk will attest. But by far the biggest problem I’ve found is convincing people that by taking 10 minutes of their time to fill out the census, our governments will better plan their services. They just don’t believe it. Khalid says: “these people expect to get things but they’re not willing to do their bit.” But for people who have never been given much, how do you tell them this time, of all times, they’ll get what they need?
And with every door we knock on, it’s pot luck. Will it be a lonely old lady who didn’t fill in her form because she had hoped I would come back and help her, or the mother trying to make a home for her six children in a two-bedroom flat? The widow with glittering icons plastering her walls?
It’s humbling but it makes me feel proud to be doing my little bit for these people. I just wish Ernie Dingo hadn’t made it look so easy.
