700 bus

I am writing this on a 700 bus going down Warrigal Road from Box Hill Station. I am having a carless week and I have to say – though it might partly just be the novelty because it does take twice as long – I enjoy public transport most of the time. I know I am rare in that. But the option to do other stuff while travelling is valuable. And for no logical reason I also feel safer with my life in the hands of some unknown disgruntled sociopath (a train or bus driver).

I had almost no sleep last night, and I don't knowwhy. I set the alarm to get up early, and then couldn’t sleep for ages when I went to bed around 11:30, and when I woke up at 4 or so I thought ‘this is stupid, I’ll be hopeless tomorrow’ so I turned the alarm off. Then I woke up at 4:44 (I hate that symmetry, it reminds me of when lux flakes congeal like crocodile skin on water, makes my skin crawl) and realised I was never going to sleep again. So I got up, let the cat out the front (he spends the first hour or so of each day acting tough in the front garden often with a local ginger) and let the dogs into the lounge room and made some juice in the juicer (I am still fearful of getting the flu) and read the paper. Beazley’s rating is back at its lowest ebb for christ’s sake. People are so fickle but he possibly gets what he deserves. I left for work around a quarter to 7 (what took me two hours? I can’t say, I must be a bit of a zombie for some of that time). Zombieness can be proven by the meandering way I took to work: I got the bus to Jacana station (I wouldn’t have, but I could see it coming) and then the train to Melbourne Central, then a train to Box Hill, and just missed the bus from Box Hill to work, so I took this 700 instead which is going to get me to the tramline which will ultimately get me to work. The whole thing is a bit scrambled but it’ll be OK.

Last night I finally got to read some of the book of Jonathan Lethem essays Shane gave me for my birthday. It’s marvellous, and I think he is a splendid and imaginative writer. So far I’ve read the first three which I think puts me at about half way through the slender butand (that’s right, I am trying to make ‘butand’ catch on as a word in itself – use it daily please, I’d appreciate it) attractive tome.

Further example of my tiredness: the bus is playing bad, bad pop music (on MMM) that could be from today or twenty years ago, could be anyone but I wish they would die and take their records with them, and out of the corner of my eye I saw some movement and thought – Oh no, someone’s dancing to this music, out on the street (highly unlikely when you think about it, but I’m in no state to think about nothing). Then I realised it was an oldish man washing a window.

Last night I read the one issue of Peace and Quiet, Guy’s follow-up fanzine to Salty and Delicious. I note that in both magazines he thanks ‘The Coalition of Self-Help Groups’ and I wonder what this is. There is also an interview with Julian Williams in there whose house we have been invited to tomorrow to celebrate his birthday – I think his 39^th. He said not many people would be there, because it’s a small place (actually a flat not a house) and so of course I wonder who on earth will be there, because Julian knows a lot of people. It’s flattering to be in the ten. Perhaps he is staggering his celebrations over a week or so and just inviting ten people at a time based on… what? Their interests? The alphabet? Level at which he likes them? (if it’s a week-long event, either way we’re in the middle, which is about where I’d expect to be). I wonder what the hell to get him for his birthday. Luckily I have the option of going to the Animal Liberation op shop this morning, as this bus is going to cross Toorak Road before then, and they sometimes have interesting albums. Trying to buy a present for Julian Williams is about as impossible a challenge as one could imagine. Well, that’s not true, but trying to buy a present he’d like is pretty impossible.

Mia is leaving for the US in a week. I am trying to figure out what I will do while she is away. I have plenty of stuff to write, things I put on the backburner in February when teaching began. So hopefully I will get a lot done. I also became attracted to the idea of seeing all the Star Wars films, now there is a finite amount. I could get the first two prequels on DVD and watch them, then go out and see the current one, then get the rest on DVD as well. The only one I’ve seen is Star Wars and that was in 1977, so I have no recollection whatsoever of it. Jesus what a boring plan. I can’t believe how boring that plan was. I can’t believe I thought about it. I will never go and see a friggin’ Star Wars film. I so much don’t care!!!

film reviews

Just watched Shaun of the Dead: depressing. Team America whatever it's called: mixed feelings though the puma scene was alright.

meet 'n' greet

I met some of the fans of this blog on Friday night at the terriffic (naturally) Flywheel show at the Old Bar. They told me the main appeal of this place was the incredibly mundanity, or did they say dreariness? of my life as relayed here. Well, of course, all the exciting bits are controversial, and I have learnt long ago not to put controversial personal details into writing, lest they fall into the wrong hands, which they invariably do. Nevertheless it did occur to me that perhaps I should make stuff up more.

However, what follows is true and exciting: I finally got round to playing a couple of singles I bought for almost nothing on eBay a few months ago. One was the Marcus Hook Roll Band's 'Louisiana Lady' (1973) which on first listening is really shitty. I had high hopes for MHRB (and for all I know their one and only yet completely unavailable album is amazing) but this is just Vanda and Young at their worst. Of course V&Y at their worst are still hypothetically better than most, but having been exposed to V&Y at their best (almost all Easybeats, 'Falling in Love Again', William Shakespeare's two megasingles, some JPY, etc) one naturally has higher expectations when dropping needle. I was not pleased. And the b-side was worse. Good news however was the other record I played, Skaldowie's 'Du Hast Mich Lieb'/'So Viele Zuege Kommen' on the Amiga label. Ich hast loved the one other Skaldowie record I own, an album from the late 60s with them all in hockey outfits on the front. This is a German language (obviously) single they must have done maybe in 1971. 'Du Hast...' is OK but 'So Viele...' is brilliant, a driving organ dirgey thing a little reminiscent of some Monkees single I can't recall (for a second I thought perhaps it was a cover of that song) with a great melodic chorus twist. Very impressed by this. Grey Tapes beware (we already do a Skaldowie song, the very different '0.20 AM'). Must buy some of the Skaldowie CDs I've seen on the net; most of them are twofers.

I can barely bear to read the newspapers these days, the news is so disappointing and depressing. This is an absolute dark age. I feel like Howard et al are deliberately trying to squeeze the life out of me, or at least waste my time (and many others') on earth with their incredible wrongdoing. I am uncertain what to do and in truth though I do intend every month to start attending ALP meetings (knowing that once I start I will never stop) I am slightly uncertain that even this will make me feel better, much less allow me to do any good. I suppose it might make me a little more aware of the intricacies of the ALP's malaise, though whether that'll cheer me up is... well, it's unlikely, isn't it. I'm trying to recall how I coped with 8 years of Fraser. I was perhaps more idealistic then.

Right now I'm listening to Scott 4 (the album, not that strange band from the late 90s), and I'm right into it. Brad gave me it for my birthday.

Millie has been sitting half way up the backyard all day. I don't know why. She came down last time I went out to bring in the washing. Usually she just hangs round the back door with Charlie on the offchance that someone will throw some food out there (which frankly does happen. It's a bit mediaeval round here in terms of scrap disposal).

Last night I read the final issue of Salty and Delicious from early '96. Guy put this one out just before I met Mia and got more involved in that world. There are interviews with Butterglory, Fong, Small World Experience and I think that's all. Interesting. I don't feel anything sentimental for that time in terms of music, but in fact I suppose that's really the time I first felt like I'd got a handle on playing music. Gig, Laura and I were practicing for what was to become Driving Past, and I was really pleased with my playing (I'd just come off the second Cannanes US tour, and I was comfortable with the drums as you always are after a longish tour of enforced musical activity). I was trying new stuff and the songs were really structured and sounding good. There were a lot of great bands around, I can't even really think of it as the distant past actually but of course it is. Sleepy Township had settled into their dynamic (though Alison, who was the key to their best period, hadn't joined yet). Michael and Paul were playing as Soapy Lovelace occasionally just before Michael went to the UK and did that Mike Nichols and his Excellency thing. Annoyingly the only other band I can think of from that time is Sandpit but I know that others will come to me in the next few hours. The second two thirds of '96 made it one of the best years of my life so far. The first third probably averages it out somewhat.

brussels sprouts

I just got back from Pascoe Vale Road Market (hereafter, PVRM) and got some brussels sprouts. What a treat. I wish I was hungry. Had a meeting in town this morning and going there and back I marked 5 essays, which is half my quota for the day. I have a long list of things to do today and blogging was not one of them.

now the trick is not to get a disease

I am finished the teaching. I have 39 essays to mark between tonight and Monday morning, which is a hassle, but doable, as long as I have nothing else to do BESIDES a meeting tomorrow morning, Flywheel in the evening, and, the dishes. I just sent three blank pages in a fax which bodes ill for my abilities in the days ahead but I think the first priority is a good night's sleep. It is dark outside and I just had a sandwich.

nearly there

Both 1st year classes went really well and of course now I am sad that I won't deal with them again.

beyond winding down

I am finding it extraordinarily difficult to get motivated to take the first years through their last week. Judging by yesterday's effort with the third years some kind of instinctive thing kicks in about half an hour before the class and I become inspired. I know how melodramatic this all seems but I assume it's a combination of exhaustion (mental?) and the fairly depressing knowledge that in six weeks I won't have a job.