Bert's Funeral

Bert Newton's funeral was on in the background on Friday, 

State Funeral's fascinate me. Not so much the morbid nature of the day, but I rather enjoy the pomp and ceremony which comes from these events. 

It was also the first pukka event we've had in ages. St Patrick's Cathedral, a mere two kilometres down the road, has been empty for eighteen months. I think the last time I saw inside a Melbourne Cathedral was in the 7.30 Report's recording of I Will Meet You In The Middle of the Air. 

(Watching the clip, this was filmed in the St Paul's, the Anglican Cathedral on Flinders Street.)

But it was good to witness a proper funeral. A complete requiem mass, witness the smells and bells and listen to real eulogies. Daniel Andrews, the Premier, spoke of Bert's career. I'm not sure what Eddie Maguire was there, other than having known Bert when he was head of Channel 9 for a while. He too, spoke well. Pete Smith, of Sale of the Century fame, read letters from Bert's children, Matthew and Lauren, the former unable to attend as he now lives in New York, the latter had her brood of kids to keep her eye on.  

There were the musical interludes. They dredged up Silvie Paladino, who is normally only seen at Carols by Candlelight, and Anthony Callea. The former sang the National Anthem (at a funeral - why? Oh yeah, it was a state funeral) and Ave Maria. Pleasant musical interludes. 

The Prime Minister sat with some of the Victorian dignitaries. Nobody looked overly comfortable in that section of the pews. 

Then there was the full requiem mass. Bert, it appears, was a devout Catholic. As a workmate reminded me, he lived with his mother until he married at 35 years of age. A pretty Catholic thing to do back then. Bert was born in 1938. He was 83 when he passed. He'd been poorly for quite a while. 

And although the funeral attendees were masked up, vaccinated and socially distanced, the cathedral felt like it had a bit of life in it. The crowd didn't look too sparce.

Things felt back to normal, for a bit. Although not everybody has their funeral service conducted by the Archbishop of Melbourne. 

And after, we watched as Patti, Lauren, Matt and the grandkids rolled Bert's coffin down the aisle to the cathedral doors. Where pallbearers would have done this job once, lifing the box onto their shoulders, a trolley allowed the family to lead Bert to his final resting place. The family looked suitably distraught, as it should be. 

A little while later, the family sprinkled the coffin with holy water and they got to say their final goodbyes. 

It was a big kerfuffle for a man who lived a very full life, who everybody knew, and everybody could tell a story about. Bert Newton has been on television longer than I've been alive. I saw him and Patti at a gala I attended a few years ago. Back then, Bert looked frail.  But ever the showman, he turned up and did his job. 

Professional to the end. 

I'm sure Bert will rest in peace. He deserved some quiet. It appears he's been tending to his six grandchildren of late after having a foot taken off. He needs the break.

My biggest takeaway from the broadcast? Things re getting back to normal. I know it was a sad day, but just to see people in a cathedral, attending a funeral, singing, hugging, living a human life like we did before this blood pandemic. 

It's finally sunk in that things are maybe returning to normal. 

Today's Song: 

Movie Review: The Eternals

 Film: The Eternals

Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Stars: 2.5

Well, I've found a Marvel film I didn't really like. A film so far up its own arse that things went dark and I fell asleep (only once, and Jay nudged me awake with an elbow). A film that I growled through for various reasons. 

But it was nice to be back in the cinemas, and it was nice to have some dinner before and to munch on a choc top during the trailers. 

Back in the cinema

Unfortunately, the film wasn't that interesting. And it got right up my nose. As an old Classics student, there was a lot here which felt like misappropriation, but that is just with my reasonable knowledge of ancient mythology, I let my indignant seething get blown out of proportion. 

According to RottenTomatoes.com, 'Marvel Studios' Eternals' features an exciting new team of Super Heroes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, ancient aliens who have been living on Earth in secret for thousands of years. Following the events of Avengers: Endgame, an unexpected tragedy forces them out of the shadows to reunite against mankind's most ancient enemy, the Deviants.'

Yeah, that explains a lot. 

There's a bit too much going on here - and unlike films like The Infinity War and Endgame, you're not emotionally invested in the characters, and some of them are too wishy-washy for you to care. 

Yes, there are some good bits to this. 

• The cinematography is wonderful
• Chloe Zhao makes the most of the dodgy script, and she keeps her love of big skies that she made her trademark in Nomadland. 
• Gemma Chan is incandescent - but that is her trademark. 
• Richard Madden looks good with a Mallen streak
• Kunail Nanjiani and his sidekick, Harish Patel, provide a bit of comic relief. 
• Harry Styles turns up in the end
  
• Angelina Jolie is very beautiful, but still a bit too skinny
• Lauren Ridloff, a deaf actress, is put to good use, even if her presence does feel like tokenism
• And the Irish guy (Barry Keoghan) is strangely hot
• And Kit Harington looks like he's going to be playing into the Excalibur myth in the next Eternals film
• And the locations are lovely

But that is about it. The film meanders through times and ages and there is a lot of credible CGI. 

But did it grab me? Nope. As lovely as it was to see Primrose Hill in London again, and all sort of other locations, this isn't one of Marvel's best offerings. 

Sure, the use of mythology is interesting, but I think Athena, Gilgamesh, Circe and Icarus are wondering what they did to deserve this. 

I'd wait a few weeks and wait until you can stream this. It should be on Disney + before Christmas.

Today's song:

The paper cut

I'm sure the deities created paper cuts to remind us that we are fallible, human and that working through adversity requires patience and fortitude. They remind us that stuff of little consequence can have a big impact. 

The Dali Lama put it well. 

Paper cuts are the mosquitoes of injuries. The appear innocuous until you want to do something productive - they're an utter pain in the arse. And they can be deadly.  You can get necrotising fascaiitis from a paper cut if you're not careful. 

But that is why I'm not writing tonight. I have a nasty paper cut. I revised my dinner plans - I was going to have to squeeze a lemon - but that is about as silly as drinking lemon juice when you have mouth ulcers. 

It just stings a bit to type. I don't need that. 

Or maybe this is nature's way of telling me to have an early night and go watch Grey's Anatomy for a change. 

Today's Song:

The Long List

 It's coming into that time again. What do I put up for the book group book choosing in a few weeks time. 

I have six weeks to find two books to bring to book group for the lolly vote. 

We have pretty strict criteria:

• Should be under 500 pages
• Of a literary or good popular fiction standard
• Easily accessible in libraries, bookstores, on audiobook or kindle
• Must be fiction - no memoir or autobiography.

And so I get my long wishlist out there as I percolate on what I want to put up (and what might be back ups if somebody else knicks my books. 

Anyway, here are a few on my long list - with blurbs and pros and cons.

1) Devotion by Hannah Kent

Hannah Kent wrote Burial Rites and The Good People, which went down well with the group. She's a lyrical writer - expansive and emotional, and a great one for detail. Her latest book has just come out. 

Pros: Established author - the group like her

Cons: Somebody will probably snap this up before me. 

2) Sorrow and Bliss by Meg Mason

Another new novel, set in London, about a woman and her struggles with depression. Sounds a bit glum? Actually the characters are wonderful and you get to love the plucky main character as she wobbles through life. I loved it as it reminded me of my time in London. It's a quick read too.

Pro: Modern, short, topical.

Con: I've raved about this in the past - it might get snapped up early. 

3) Animal by Lisa Taddeo

I loved Lisa Taddeo's Three Women, a non-fiction book which looked at three women's sexual assault stories. Fascinating stuff. This book's jacket reads, "In a haunting, visceral novel about women surviving men, Lisa Taddeo has produced one of the most haunting anti-heroes in fiction." It sounds gritty. Runs to just over 300 pages. 

Pro: Recent, modern, easily available, gritty. 

Con: Might be too gritty for some. 

4) Scary Monsters by Michelle de Kretser

Another author we have read in our book group. An author I have met through Faber. I like the premise of this book - it comes in two halves. You can either start  with the white cover side up, or the red cover side up - so people are going to read this differently. According to the front cover, "...three scary monsters - racism, misogyny and ageism roam through this novel." I'm intrigued.

Pro: Good length, known author, a bit of a challenge, especially as it has the two halves thing going on. 

Con: The two halves thing might put people off.

5) The Performance by Claire Thomas

I only reviewed this the other day. I loved this quiet book about three women watching a performance of Samuel Beckett's Happy Days. I loved it. Glorious writing and a wonderful premise. It's also short. And Australian content. 

Pro: Well reviewed. Short. Easily available. 

Con: Not everybody's cup of tea. 

6) Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr

Anthony Doerr wrote All the Light we Cannot See - and that went down a treat. This is his latest offering, which according to the back cover, is a "...beautiful,and redemptive novel about stewardship - of the book, of the Earth and of the humand heart." Unfortunately, it runs to 600 pages. 

Pro: He's a great writer. 

Con: It's too long to really be considered for book group, though we've had the odd longer novel. 

7)  The Truth About Her by Jacqueline Maley

Jacqueline Maley is an Australian journalist and this is her first book. This is a book about guilt and shame and female anger, and inparticular, about mothering. It's short, recently released and Australian content. Never bad things. 

Pro: Short, available, topical and Australian

Con: Not another book about mothering...

8) Wild Abandon by Emily Bitto

Another Australian author we have read before. Her book, The Strays, won the Stella Prize a few years ago. Wild Abandon appears to be a grittier novel than The Strays. But I do like putting up books which challenge. At 400 pages, it's a bit longer than some other books. 

Pro: It's an Australian author. Readily available. 

Con: The content and length might put people off. 

9) 7 1/2 by Christos Tsiolkas

I adore Christos Tsiolkas. He's just won the Melbourne Prize for Literature. This book has been published for a week and it looks pretty gritty - but would you expect anything less from the bloke who wrote The Slap and Damascus. At 360 pages it a bit less than a few other of his tomes. 

Pro: It's Christos Tsiolkas - it's bound to have a lot to talk about in its covers. 

Con: I think Damascus put a few people off him.

10) The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

Lighter fare, but wonderfully thought provoking. A book about choices and where we could go. I loved this book too. Very book group friendly. And nothing triggering in it. 

That will do for the moment. It is always interesting to see what comes up in book group book choosing. 

Today's song:

The PMS Problem

<rant>

I'm having a bit of an issue with PMS at the moment.

PMS you ask? Knowing too well that I talk about menopause with the freedoms. I talk about most things. 

Yes. PMS. 

PALE MALE SYNDROME

A South African friend told me of the term. They used to have a bit of a problem with entitled white men over there. By the end of aparthied, it was getting very hard for them to get work. And that will open up a whole other kettle of worms so I'll get to where I'm going. 

Anyway's I've reappropriated the term to mean any entitled white man - normally past 40. 

We talked about it over the weekend. PMS, that wonderful situation you find when encountering an entitled male, who is either sticking around, because, you know, they will tell you, they're entitled to be there, or entitled to be heard, or that they're just entitled to exist within your realm, when you'd be just as happy without them. (Thankfully none of the men on the retreat had PMS - they'd be too scared to show any sort of entitlement - there would be blood if they did).

It may be something which some men don't feel. Either they're emotionally able, better trained, or just not arseholes. 

But I've been seeing a lot of PMS. 

At work, there are quite a few examples of PMS. Basically you take a barely competent, nornally middle-aged, more than likely caucasian, man and watch him get shuffled from one department to another, being barely productive and not being that useful at all. They don't seem to get perfomanced managed out. Nobody really complains about their uselessness - well not at a higher management level. Those around them, particularly competent women, wonder why the hell they don't do something about them. 

Then yesterday, in editing class, we were paired up with another classmate to edit each other's work. 

I know what I produce isn't great, but I was given the task of editing this fellow's pride and joy, which he was obviously in love with, as we are all just a little bit in love with our projects. 

But oh my. I spent two hours on the job, going through line by line, correcting grammar, stripping out cliches, pointing out plot holes, mentioning the the overuse of exclamation marks  and elipses isn't overly attractive, discussed how he wavered from the third person omniscient to the third person close... and the list went on. 

How confident he was of his work (which left me rather cold, but I could see some good in the story). 

But he was confident in his work - he was sure his unpolished turd of a manuscript had a wonderful saleability. 

Why? 

Because, of course, he's a man. A white, boomer man. Who nobody has probably ever said no to. 

(By the way, his comments on my work ranged from I should state one of my characters height in centimetres, not feet and inches, that he too had a friend by the name of one of my characters, who had a similar characteristic, and I shouldn't make jokes about paedophilia, even though I wasn't, more just referencing Bill Henson photos in jest. Fun. I don't think he got it - mind you, anybody who hasn't laid down on the Art Gallery floor and watched the ceiling here in Melbourne, has no soul, and I need to take this into consideration)

I'm over PMS. Look at the media - how many broadcasters are men in their middle age and beyond keeping their bully pulpit? Why can't new, fresh blood come in (i.e. Why do Alan Jones, Andrew Bolt, John Singleton, Jeremy Cordeaux, .... and on and on ad infinitum, still get airplay?)

Aren't we beyond this?

Isn't it time we held some of these entitled arseholes to account ? 

That's better.

They call this writing around the problem. 

Thank you for listening.

</rant>

Today's song:

Takeaways

 The second load of washing is in the machine, the first load already strung out on the line. The cat is asleep on the bed after providing a morning of affection, repeatedly. When he gives these cuddles, the look of bliss on his face is evident. Normally, I get one cuddle a day. This morning, he's provided me with six or seven. He's happy to be home. 

I'm glad I have today off. It's giving me time to process the weekend and allow some of the exhaustion to abate. There's a long list of things to do:

• Cut my toenails (done)
• See my trainer (2 p.m.)
• Arrange a Mason's property association workshop
• Go to editing class (6.30 p.m.)
• Mop the floors
• Provide my Nana's yo-yo recipe to Ash, our caterer on the retreat (Done)
• Do the week's food shopping (After training - done)
• Get some reading done (done)
• Go to Bunnings and buy some cat grass (done)

I've also got the need to mentally unpack the weekend, which always needs to be done after these retreats. Catherine Deveny runs a transformative weekend, without trying in many ways. She facilitates the weekend, the rest of us help to make the magic. Maybe middle-aged, left-leaning, thoughtful women should meet en masse more often. 

Anyway, this is what I've come up with from this weekend. 

1) I need to be hugged more often. 

Yes, I know we're been through COVID, but there were lots of hugs and snuggles this weekend. I only see these people once or twice a year, but they give GREAT hugs. Like most people, I've got out of the habit of touching people, It was so nice to be around people how appeared genuinely pleased to see me and who happily hug and hug back. 

2) Time near and in water is a tonic

Walking barefoot along a pristine beach, allowing the sand to slough off the dead skin on my feet - I wish I could do this every day. And don't get me started about the joys of running naked into the Southern Ocean with a number of equally naked, like-minded lunatics which is one of the most liberating feelings in the world. I could have spent more time in the water. I wanted to stay there and howl at the sea for a bit longer. The water was bracing, but not overly cold. I felt beautiful. I felt strong. I felt completely at one with nature. 

There should be more of it. 

3) Sharing experiences about menopause is liberating

I was a couple of gin and tonics down by this stage. I might have pilfered half a cigarette. I had a wonderful chat with a 'young'n' about the joys of menopause. We don't talk enough about menopause. 

I extolled the virtues of HRT, and finding a decent doctor who will listen and offer alternative. I bemoaned the 'joys' of this time. The horrendous hot flushes, the screaming psychos, the lack of sleep, the fact you vagina turns into a vice, the itches, the not feeling like yourself... Young'n has a bit of a way to go. She's approaching 40. 

The young'n said nobody told her about this. 

The young'n was told to talk to her mother, and if things got strange, talk to her naturopath, or doctor.

This was my public service activity for the weekend. 

And somehow I was given the new porn name of Rusty Flaps. Not sure what to do with this. 

4) Setting targets and having an accountability monitor is a good thing

I gave myself the goal of writing 5000 words this weekend. It let Dev know this was going to be my goal She said she'd be my accountability monitor. 

By the end of Saturday, I had the words down. Then the questions came - should I write more? Should I extend the goal. My answer to that was no. I did get a few more words down, and I got my Furious Fiction entry out, but my goal for the weekend was reached and that was good. 

It felt good to achieve - but not overacheive. 

I have to remember this more often. 

5) The cat should be left with Blarney and Barney more often

Lucifer went to stay with his uncle and aunt while I was away. Although they were kind and loving with him, he was an absolute ingrate. He hid in the base of a recliner rocker for most of the weekend, occasionally coming out to eat and use the litter tray. 

When I turned up on Sunday night, Blarney said she might have to cut him out of the chair. Whenever she went near him, he hissed. She went to get the shears. I lay down in front of the chair, stuck my hand in, gave him a pat and told him to stop being a goose. He crept out after two minutes. 

On getting him home and giving him some dinner (They fed him well, but he went on a bit of a hunger strike - oh and Barney slept in his room with him one night, to keep him company - daft animal cuddled up behind his knees) he seemed to settle down. 

Today, I've been receiving regular cuddles. As in very regular smooches, cuddles, purrs... you name it, he's dished it out. I was sitting in my editing class. He jumped up for a cuddle on my shoulder. I was sitting on the toilet, he jumped up for a smooch (choice). As I had the day off, I had a lie in. He was all over me like a rash. 

Appears he missed me. 

6) I should give the link to the song of the day, not just the clip

This came from three people on the retreat. Why can I sing the song of the day? Seems not everybody can see them, depending on the mode in which they are viewing the blog. I'm still amazed people read my blog. 

Anyway, the song of the day will be liked in the hyperlink from now. Gotta keep the readers happy. 

Today's song: 

Sunday Stealing: Family

I am with my tribe.

I am with my tribe down the Great Ocean Road this morning. In some ways, these people, who I have either never met, or only see a handful of times a year are my family. They are definitely my tribe. Good women (and men, but they are few and far between here) Bolshie, loud, big-hearted, fun, outspoken women. It's wonderful. 

Being the early riser, I was up to watch the sunrise. The ritual Bathing of the Lunatics, where a number of us run into the Southern Ocean buck naked will be occuring soon. 

It has once again been a phenomenal weekend. 

Sunrise, Seacroft, Apollo Bay

The Bathing of the Lunatics

I don't talk much about my family, but I will give it a go. Questions, as always, provided by Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

1. How big is your immediate family? Who are the members?

Immediate family consists of my mum, step-dad, and two sisters. One biological sister and one step-sister. My sister has a husband and I have two nieces, one here, one passed. My step-sister has a partner. This is the family unit. 

2. Who are you closest to in your family? What kind of relationship do you have with that person? Is it like friendship?

I am not terribly close to my family. We all get on. We all love each other, but wear aren't close. They live interstate, which doesn't help matters. I like that we're not in each other's pockets.

Of my Melbourne family, Blarney and Jonella are the ones I'm closest too. Blarney is a sister. Jonella a very good friend. 

3. Which day of the year are you most likely to spend with your family?

In the past it would be the second Sunday in February. Until COVID, mum used to have a big party on the front lawn. I used to go home for that, normally with a few friends in tow. 

4. As a child, did you go on family trips? What do you remember about those vacations?

As a family unit (Mum, dad, sister and me) went on the odd long car trip to faraway places. I remember being bored in the car and fighting with my sister. Isn't that what you do on long car trips?

5. Is there a black sheep in your family? What is different about them?

That would probably be me. I'm not a real black sheep - I just moved away, got an education, I'm big time into the Arts, never married, don't like property, don't have kids and generally go against my family's middle class bent and minor conservative traits. Ah well. 

6. Do you know your extended family? How many of them have you met?

I have 15 cousins. I've met all of them. Some of them I'm in semi-regular contact with - they visit me in Melbourne, I'll visit them in the far off places in which they live. They're nice people. Even the gun-toting, Trump supporting Christians are nice people - we just don't agree on some stuff, but that's people in general. 

7. Have you ever been to a family reunion? How was it?

We had a get together for my Aunt's 90th birthday with quite a few of the clan. My cousins and I sat around talking about the strength of our oestrogen patches and the fact that the women in our family have a hideous time during menopause. It was wonderful to see them all, in a group, with their adult kids. Their kids, now young adults, are nice people too. 

8. Who are you most proud of among your relatives? Who do you look up to?

I'm proud of all my cousins and family in their own way. I look up to the ones who have overcome great adversity. They are pretty amazing. My sister lost a child. I have absolutely no idea how she is still standing. But she is. 

9 What characteristics have you inherited from your parents? Do you look like them? Do you behave like they do?

I am a strange mix of mum and dad. I have dad's hair, and mum's eyes, hands and ankles. I'm what happens when you mix a wombat with a racehorse - round body, long legs. I got Mum's ability to rhyme and dad's ability to talk to anybody. But that's about it. I'm my own woman. 

10. Does your family have any heirlooms? Will you inherit anything that has been in the family a long time?

Not really and no. I have mum's original engagement ring, and dad's box brownie camera and 21st tankard. We're not a heirloom sort of family. 

11. What happens to old people in your family? Do they live with younger family members or move to a retirement home? How would you prefer to spend your old age?

The old people in my family tend to live happily in retirement homes until they shed this mortal coil. In the past, when it comes time to go, they don't tend to suffer. Unfortunately, my favourite aunt, aged 94, is in the process of departing. It is hard to hear about. It must be even worse for her. There is some good in passing without suffering. I will miss her terribly, but I wish her a peaceful passing. She's in Canberra. We reckon she's holding on to see everybody, but the state borders are still shut between South Australia and the ACT. It's hard. 

12. If you are married, how well do you get along with your in-laws?

I'm not married. I've never been married. I like to think I'm not that silly. 

13. What do people mean when they say, “you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family”?

Family are the people who will be there regardless - even if they don't like you that much. I don't think I would ever, volunarily choose my family for my family. They would probably say the same of me.  Your friends are your chosen family. They're good. And they, and you, can choose to stick around. 

14. If you live far away from some members of your family, how do you keep in touch? How often do you communicate?

My family are about 500 miles (800 kilometres) back in Adelaide. My Mum and I talk once a week on the phone. I'll probably give her a ring when I'm driving home today. I can go months without speaking my sisters, but we keep up with each other on Facebook. 

15. Are you so close to any of your friends that you consider them to be like family?

Yes. Blarney and Barney are definitely family. I put down Blarney as my next of kin when required. I've sprung her from hospital on a number of occasions - she can return the favour. Jonella is family too. Just is. 

Today's song: