Sunday Stealing says Yeah

 It's Saturday morning. I'm having a lovely quiet one. I've made the bed, mainly because the cat said that I have to. I've done some crocket. I've done a little job hunting. I need to go down the shopping centre to go to the chemist and to drop some trousers for mending. I'm going to go for a swim later this afternoon. I want to get some other writing done. And my taxes. All on a nice sunny Saturday. It's lovely and relaxing. 

Questions, as always, come from Sunday Stealing. 

1. What will you remember from August 2026?

I hate to say it, but August 2026 will always be about the fact that Dolly Parton and Tim Curry died in quick succession. I admired both performers for different reasons. It's sad that they're gone, but their work will live on. 

My birthday was a bit of a non-event this year, so nothing to write home about there. 

2. When will you start your holiday shopping?

Oh, when will I start Christmas shopping? Probably two weeks before Christmas. I have, however, started making Blarney's blanket for her Christmas present. Crocheting blankets takes time, but it is well under way. Then I'll get a start on the dog and cat blanket for various people. I like making people things for Christmas. 

3. Where did you meet the person you fell the hardest for?

Work. 

4. Where did you meet your best friend?

I have a number of close friends. Geetangeli I met at university college. Mariah, Blarney and Jonella I met at work - different jobs, but all at work. 

5. Share a fact about the last person who texted you.

Jay is my gym buddy. We're discussing what time to meet at the gym tomorrow. 

Today's song:

Movie Review: Tony

Movie Number 32 of 2026

The Movie: Tony

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas - Balwyn

Runtime: One hour 46 Minutes

Stars: 4

The movie Tony is based on the early life of chef Anthony Bourdain, cook, chef, writer and traveler. A bon vivant in many ways, I was a fan of his Parts Unknown series where he went off the beaten track to find delicacies.

Tony looks at the time in his life when he cultivated his love of food and the cultural values he placed on it. 

At the start of the film, Tony (Dominic Sessa), or Anthony to his mother, is a shit of a kid. In his own words he says he was a 'pretentious, insufferable little snot who thought he was smarter than everybody else.' The young Tony, overconfident trash bag that he is, follows a girl, Nancy (Emilia Jones) on holidays in Provincetown. Turning up with nowhere to live, next to no money and a broken heart after finding out Nancy was seeing somebody else, he gets a job as a dishwasher in a bar, where there are four things on the menu, a narky chef (Antonio Banderas) and a bunch of reprobate kitchen hands. 

Sal (Leo Woodall) one of the kitchenhands takes him down the wrong path for a bit, before chef takes him under his wing and sees what Tony can't - that he's a chef in the making.

There's a lot to like in this film. It's fast-paced and with an edge of danger, as Sal introduces Tony to some of the recreational drugs that can be found in these American seaside towns. The other thing that had me looking away was watching the young Tony's knife skills. There is inherent danger when it comes to shucking oysters. 

It's also deliciously funny and wise a lot of the time. It also show's America in its mid-70s best. The sets and costumes set the period beautifully.

This is a really enjoyable film. Dominic Sessa shines as young Tony, Antonio Banderas's Chef helps to tame the insufferable youth. I really enjoyed Emilia Jones' turn as the plucky Nancy. Leo Woodall is great as the slightly unhinged Sal - he's been making some cool choices of late - this is one of them. 

Matt Johnson, who directed the under-rated film Blackberry has done a very good job on this. He also worked with Todd Bartels and Lou Howe on the script. It's really well done. 

I recommend this one for something different. It's not too long, engaging and shows the in auspicious start of a man who grew into a cultural icon. 

Today's song: 

 Just, no.

Okay, look, he was 80. He's been infirm for years but still working. He's allowed to go. 

But...

His menacing cackle was one of the best on the planet. That sneery smile. That wicked look behind his eyes in every role he took on. 

He was an icon. 

It's a bad week for celebrities. I just wish it wasn't the good ones who are going.  

Rest in Power, Tim Curry. You're going home.

Today's song:

From today

 I was woken by a notification on the phone. 

"We're playing Dolly Parton back-to-back this morning, What a loss."

It is a loss. A huge loss. And for somebody born in a one-room shack in Tennessee, she's done more for the world than almost anybody. Her Imagination Library distributed more than 300 million books to children, promoting a love of reading, is the stuff that makes me tear up. Her own father couldn't read or write - she didn't want anybody to not have the opportunity to learn just what reading and writing could bring you. 

She was smart, funny and humble. She treated people as people. 

The world has lost a good one. 

I grew up with her. As a child of the seventies, she was everywhere - I remember her singing with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris. I remember her films of the 80s and 90s. She's always been around. 

The song of the day is my favourite song of hers - it came out when I was nine. 

Anyway, it's been a sad day. 

Making up for it, I'm teaching my cousin how to crochet. She's been staying with me for a few nights while she attends a course here in Melbourne.

She's a bit older than me. There's lots of interesting things about her - too much to mention here. She's also the wife of an Anglican priest. 

Our grandmother always said that she wasn't cut out for crochet - however, she does knit very well. 

Regardless, she's sitting here on the couch trying to master this crochet thing. 

After an hour of trying to use more technical terms, I tried a more novel approach.

"Strangle it. Stab it. Strangle it again. Hang it. Tie it up. Tie it up. Start again."

Very technical. 

She thinks it's the best way to remember the stitches. 

It's just the recipe for granny squares. 

Coming out of the mouth of a vicar's wife, it's quite funny. 

Today's song:

Men's Privilege

Remind me why middle-aged men think they own the place? 

Case in point. The tram this afternoon. A 109 tram, on Collins Street. it's busy. Not hideous can't get on the tram busy, but busy enough. 

There is a man, sitting on the seat next to the aisle. The seat next to him is vacant. 

"Excuse me," I motion towards the seat. Two young men are sitting in the opposite two seats. 

The man looks up from his phone and looks at me as if I'm something he's stepped in at the dog park. 

"Excuse me," I repeat, a little more forcefully.

He doesn't move. 

The two young men make some room, and I take the seat by the window - I mean, it's a vacant seat on a busy tram. The absolute audacity of me wanting to take a free seat on a busy tram next to a middle-aged. He made it known that my presence on the next seat was unwelcome. 

MAAAATE! IT'S PUBLIC FUCKING TRANSPORT!

I sit in the seat. I refuse to make myself small. I can make myself small, but in this case, with this tosser, I refuse to bundle myself into a ball to make room for his arse on my side of the seat. 

I don't go into knees and elbows mode, but I sit quietly.

I could do one of the following: 

• Make a loud, personal phone call
• Play music on the phone, not through the headphones
• Play a game with the noise on
• Try and find something smelly to eat.
• File my nails
• Produce eggy farts

Or any number of other antisocial ways that you can irritate the shit out of people when you're on the tram. 

No, I just sat there, with my bag on my lap, quietly seething.

At the stop before mine, I made a move to stand . 

"Excuse me."

He grunted. 

The young men again made some room. 

I was tempted to dong him with my backpack. 

I didn't. But I did think about it. 

I just don't get why middle-aged men don't have to play by the rules the rest of us have to. 

Today's song: 

Hello, Gym

 First night in the new gym. There were feelings of trepidation and grief. After, I remain hopeful. 

One of the issues of going to the same gym for nearly 20 years is that you know where everything is, how everything works and what to expect. You also have to remember that it's not the same place. 

Jay was at the old gym today as it closed its doors at midday. I said my goodbyes yesterday. 

Onwards, I say. 

And yes, things are different. The machines have different set ups, things are in strange places. There are few bouncy medicine balls, but heaps of dead balls. (I hate dead balls). The feel of the machines are a bit different - of course they are. The leg press bench isn't as padded, the lat pull down machine felt a bit strange. There are fewer mats. Stuff, which will work itself out with a few sessions. 

It also felt busier than the old place but considering they've taken on a lot of people from the old gym, it's to be expected. 

I saw a few familiar places around the place. Another trainer from the old place was showing around a client. We smiled at each other. Familiar faces are gold. 

And after a 45-minute session with Cleo, I have the sense that this place will be okay. I love that they have reformer beds with inbuilt video lessons - I'd like to try Pilates but can't be bothered with the expense. I like that they have yoga at 8 pm on a Saturday morning. I like that their cardio room looks over Victoria Street. 

After this session, I went two doors down to meet up with my boxing trainer, for another half an hour of punishment. 

This was our third session boxing. I'm getting back into the swing of things. I love this interval training lark. Okay, after a 45-minutes of weights, it might not have been the most sensible thing to have done, but I lasted well. Sure, my arms felt like they were going to drop off at the end of the session, my legs a little wobbly, but I did it. 

An hour and a half and 500 calories later, I stumbled home. 

I think I'll sleep tonight. 

Today's song:

Goodbye, Gym

 Let me introduce you to some friends of mine. 

This is my favourite leg press. 

This is one of the TRX bands and the cardio area. 

These are the ski ergs. 

This is the 'easy' leg press and the leg extension machines - they come as a pair. 

This is my favourite lat pull down machine. My favourite bar, with the V grip has been stolen. I loved that bar. 

This is the good chest press. There are other chest press machines, but this one is the best.

And this is the sled track and the battle ropes.

And this is the studio where they hold classes. I contemplated going to BodyCombat this morning, but there was about 40 people in the room. But I did say goodbye to the instructors, who I've known for years. Until around two years ago I was in here most Sunday mornings - but the heat, the crowds and the noise all did my head in a bit too much. 

I think about the great people I've met here. My trainers over the years. Ricardo (Pinochet), Ivan, Dave, Mani, and now Jack, who've all helped keep me on track. 

There's the guys on the front desk. Nic, whose been on the desk for an age, is currently in Edinburgh Comedy Festival, taking her one woman show about being a receptionist at the gym to the world. (She's awesome). 

I think of the many friends I've made here. 

I love the community spirit of this place. That people regularly stop for a chat, say hello, egg you on. There's the people who've become actual friends outside of the gym.

At midday tomorrow, this all ends. They're closing down. 

I didn't know I was going to feel so emotional, but this place has been and extension of home for nearly 20 years. It's safe and convenient - and the parking is good. 

Sure, I have a new gym to go to - where they have all these machines, and it's 5 minutes' walk from the front door and quite a few people will be going to the new gym because the alternatives to go to the fancy gym off Church Street are not palatable (Too many posers, shit parking and you get stuck behind a tram two journey's out of three.)

It's the end of an era. 

I'm sad. 

Today's song: