I'm nearly ready to head to the airport to go back to Darwin. I've got nearly everything ready for Liam, my house sitter.
I've known Liam since he was two-days old. He's now 18.
Yes, I'm letting an 18-year-old look after my flat and cat for a week.
He's a good lad. Quiet. Responsible. At university, but on a break, so he reckons he'll make the most of having a television to himself for the week, while feeding my ratbag cat.
I've done everything a good host should do. I've cleaned the toilet and bathroom. The kitchen is in order. I've made the bed with fresh linen, and there are clean towels for the bathroom sitting on the bed. My vibrator has been hidden away out of sight. I've even done a bit of dusting.
And of course, I asked if I could get any food in, after all, he's used to living with his Mum and Dad and I'm pretty sure they keep him fed. He also got told that he was welcome to anything he found in the cupboard or fridge - with the exception of the bottle of French Champagne - if that gets drunk, that needs to be replaced.
It seems 18-year-old boys have very simple needs.
He asked for a loaf of light rye bread (because when he came over he noticed my KMart special sandwich press) That and six litres of lite milk.
SIX LITRES OF MILK!
What the?
Sorry, I buy one to two litres of almond milk a week. I don't really drink milk, haven't done for years - I run better on limited dairy.
But SIX LITRES?!
I've never had a teenage boy of my own, but many of my friends possess one of two of them. They seem to improve with age. Liam is definitely out of the grunty stage and is well on his way to being a fully formed human being.
But SIX LITRES OF MILK!
What's he going to do? Bathe in it? Is this normal?
It's Saturday night and I'm getting ready to go to Darwin once again. So, as is the tradition, I'm going to do a job and do a question to get both things out of the way. I have my house sitter coming just before I go to the airport tomorrow night.
1. If you like art, who is your favourite artist and why?
Yes, I love art - I seek out art. I go to art galleries as a regular occurrence. I love that art makes you feel things, though this is not all art.
As for my favourite artists, I have many, but the one that comes to mind tonight is Francis Bacon. I love the sensitivity and brutality of his paintings. Irish, gay, an alcoholic, an iconoclast, his paintings speak to me. I hunt him out in major galleries.
Job: The dishes.
2. If you were able to learn any three skills or talents instantly and with success, what would they be?
I would love to be able to play the piano - I should look into lessons.
I'd love to be able to sing better - I can carry a tune, just not that well.
And I wish I had neat handwriting. I have a doctor's or serial killer's handwriting. It would be good to have better penmanship.
Job: Scrub down the stovetop.
3. If you were to live in Ancient Times, where - in what country - would you want to live in?
What do you describe as ancient. I don't think I'd like to live anywhere before the 1500s - even then, it's pretty hairy. At least in the times of say the Tudor court people are somewhat literate.
Then again, ancient Rome had running water... but then they had Caligula. No thanks.
Job: Put the dishes away.
4. What is something you’re embarrassed to admit to liking? Whether it be a guilty pleasure show, or unusual hobby, etc.
Phil Collins. The Channel Nine News (the only way I get in half palatable right wing news). Beans on toast - best quick dinner ever.
Job: Torment the cat - he was tormented enough, he went from his spot on the bed to his spot on the cushion on the couch.
5. What is the worst job you’ve ever had?
That would probably be my first proper job. I've had a lot of dodgy jobs, but spending eight hours a day putting price tags on things at a department store at the end of university was not a great thing.
Job: Set up the ironing board.
6. What is something that you wanted to do as a child that you would still like to do now?
Learn how to play the piano. I'm quite musical. I used to play the flute. I'd like to think I'd get the hang of it pretty quickly.
Job: Plug in the iron.
7. What do you hate being judged for more than anything else?
My size and weight. I've had this all my life. Unfortunately, it's the one thing I wish I didn't judge myself for - years of being judged as a child has made it's mark.
Job: Pack underwear for Darwin.
8. What is your life’s mission?
To be happy. It's as simple as that and it is a mission every day.
Job: Iron one item of clothing.
9. If everyone walked around wearing warning labels, what would yours say?
"Mad, bad and dangerous to know." That is what I was once told I was.
I think now I'd probably have something like "Sensitive and would like to stay that way." It reads better than, "Gently neurodiverse. Intermittent filter settings. "
Job: Iron something else.
10. At what age did you first feel like you were an adult?
About 27. I'd been living in London on my own for a few years and had to make some pretty big decision. It was then that I knew I could do this adulting lark.
Job: Pack cereal for Darwin (so I have something for breakfast ready on Monday morning.)
11. When did you not speak up, but wish you had?
I tend not to make mention of conflicts on my socials - whether that be Palestine or Ukraine or wherever these awful atrocities take place. I don't feel like it's my place to speak out, though many would disagree. I know that the standard you walk past is the standard you accept, but there are some things I'd rather talk about in private.
Job: Get clothes ready for tomorrow.
12. What is something that makes your skin crawl?
People who are rude to service staff. And men who wear clothes that got left in the washing machine for too long, then dried them and they smell musty. Ick.
Job: Put away the clothes horse.
13. What was the last thing to give you butterflies in your stomach?
Oh, I can't remember. Maybe walking into the first session of the Faber Academy at the offices of Allen and Unwin. That was a strange feeling.
Job: Iron another piece of clothing.
14. What's your favorite type of media to work with? (Paint, clay, pens etc.)
They keyboard. I'm a writer - though I enjoy painting even though I'm not good at it.
Job: Iron another piece of clothing.
15. What question do you hate answering?
Tell me about your family / love life. I prefer to keep this one mostly under wraps.
The Movie: The Three Musketeers: Part 1: D'Argtagnan
The Cinema: Palace Cinema, Balwyn.
Stars: 4
And now for something a little different. With all of the decent looking new films coming out in the next few weeks, Jay and I were looking for something to watch. Jay wasn't interested in the John Galliano documentary, but we found this. A French action film. Who knew?
And yes, the film is in French, with subtitles, but, as a lover of French cinema, it was a change to see an action film, in French, with elite French actors, having a lot of fun. And of course, it was set in the 1600s.
Such fun.
The story starts with D'Artagnan (Francois Civil) on his way to Paris to become a musketeer. On the way he gets into a skirmish, is buried for dead - but he's really okay. He finally gets to Paris to find out that all is not as it seems. Becoming a musketeer is a process, and in this process he managed to piss of Athos (Vincent Cassel), Portos (Pio Marmai) and Aramis (Romain Duris) who are after his blood, but he manages to save, so D'Artangnan is taken on as their mascot.
In the background, the Queen (Vicky Kreips) is having an affair with the Duke of Buckingham, the King (Louis Garrel) is suspecting something, and the Cardinal de Richelieu wants to take over the country by bringing the king to decide on war.
Oh, yes, and there is some romance as D'Artagnan fall for the queen's maid, Constance (Lyna Khouri), which doesn't make much sense as the maid is always found in places she shouldn't be seen, but hey,. it's the 1600s - maybe maids got to go all over the place. Okay, this bit didn't ring true, but the actress is so pretty, she'll be forgiven anything.
And then there's the mysterious Milady, played by Eva Green
This is a really enjoyable film. The action scenes, which involve lots of things blowing up and sword fights are wonderfully done. Martin Bourboulon's direction is fast paced, fun and on the mark. I also loved the cinematography and settings, showing a very different Paris to what we are used to seeing. Although sumptuous, it's dirty and grimy and rough around the edges - probably a lot more like it actually was in the day.
In all, this is a fast paced, well-acted, enjoyable film, and as Jay pointed out, the subtitles were clear and easy, and as a fledgling French speaker, I could understand a good proportion of the dialogue.
And even better - there's a second part to this entitled The Three Musketeers: Milady, which is also out, you just have to find it. I'll ignore the fact that Milady did a swan dive from the White Cliffs at Dover near the end of the film.
It's not my favourite thing to do, but it I'm powering through it, answering queries about joining Freemasonry, getting some insurance docs up to date.... you name it, I've done it tonight.
But I've come to the end of it, as always, breaking up the drudgery with the odd chore, some tormenting of the cat and the odd line of knitting.
And I'm sitting here wondering how it was, years ago, I used to do a tenfold of what I am doing at the moment, and it seemed easy.
Is this because work is pretty full on at the moment? Or because I'd lost some interest in doing other people's admin. (Big yes)
But I used to be able to sit and do this until the cows come home. Now, I'm really not that interested.
Yet I've done it, and I feel better for it.
Okay, I'm meeting a friend for breakfast. Best stop admining before I got even more loopy.
I've had this song in my head all day. Grrr. Maybe I needed the admin to settle it down.
At The Forum 28-30 May (Sold out so good luck getting a ticket)
4.5 stars
I went to this on spec after being introduced to Angie McMahon through friends a while back. I love her song Slow Mover. I love her voice. I love that she’s a woman singing about all sorts of stuff – often feminine issues, other times, more universal themes such as the environment, Palestine and other things.
And though they be little, they be fierce.
I was lucky to score a ticket to this, buying the tickets off a friend who was laid up with COVID, so I was able to join my friend El in going along. I wanted to get tickets earlier, but she had sold out all three nights – which is saying something for an artist who thought she’d never fill the Forum.
The crowd was mellow – wonderfully chill. I mentioned to El that I’d never been in a room with so many wolf cuts in my life. Wolf cut? This haircut. Billie Eilish wears it well. As seen on Sydney Road in Brunswick. It was like somebody had transported the population of Brunswick into the 2000 person capacity auditorium.
A wolf cut, as worn by Fitzroy and Brunswick's finest.
El and I made it in to see Ruby Gill play - I was keen to see her having looked her up online.
She didn't disappoint. That wonderful fun, slightly melancholic, rather folky music from this young woman with the heart of a poet. I really enjoyed her set and would hunt her out again. Her song about a room full of white male politicians was particularly apt. I really enjoyed her sense of humour.
After a short break between sets, Angie McMahon came on.
She was brilliant.
Starting with her song about Fireball Whisky, it was clear to see she way playing to an adoring crowd who knew her work.
As a novice, I just loved her sound. If I'm honest I was there because I love her song Slow Mover, but she is SOOOOOOOO much more.
She played for an hour and half and wonderfully nuanced set of alternative, folk and rock, with intelligent, thoughtful lyric with her soulful voice, it was just magic. El and I had different experiences. Feeling rather claustrophobic on the floor, I moved to the back of the auditorium and listened in the comfort of a bit of space. El stayed near the stage and loved being in with the crowd.
The highlights for me were two moments where she did covers.
Firstly, she reworked Australian Crawl's Reckless, giving it an environmental bent. It was brilliant. (See link) (Those who know me well know that Reckless has been my favourite song for forty years).
She then called Ruby Gill back to the stage where they did a stripped back duet of Bob Dylan's Blowing in the Wind. I had tears streaming down my face. It was sublime.
More songs were play to her adoring audience before finishing off with El's favourite song, Pasta. (See Today's Song.)
I would happily go and see her again. Angie McMahon is a living treasure.
It was worth the aches and tiredness that came the next day from going out on a school night.
We made arrangements to meet at 6.30 p.m. This gave me time to put my face on, change my clothes and pack my banana bag ready for tonight after work.
Then the text came in, "Can I meet you later? I'm starving. Meet at the venue at say 7.45."
Suits me.
I've had dinner.
I've done my face.
Packed my bag to go into the office tomorrow.
Put out clothes to wear to the office tomorrow.
I've done another odd job or two, including this blog.
It's strange. We used to go out on a weeknight regularly, now it feels foreign.
I had a similar conversation with Dave the tradie this morning at the temple - he comes over every six months to check the fire extinguishers. I told him I was going out tonight. I told him who I was seeing.
"Off to the Forum to see Angie McMahon."
"Who."
"Look her up. Alternative rock. Melodic. Edgy. You might enjoy her."
"At The Forum, you say. I'm going to see the Hoodoo Gurus there in November."
"I'll be there too."
"On a Thursday night."
"Not looking forward to the next day," he said.
"Me either. The trick is to pace yourself. And remember if you dance too hard you might do a hip."
"At least tonight will be a bit more mellow."
"But it's a school night."
"When did we get old?" asked Dave.
"I don't know, Dave."
"But it's the Hoodoo Gurus. It has to be done."
"I know, Dave."
We bid each other farewell, knowing that we may meet up in the general admission section at the Forum in November.
Tomorrow night I'm off to see Angie McMahon at The Forum. On a school night.
She's being supported by somebody called Rubie Gill, who listening to her music on Youtube this afternoon, is just up my alley.
This is all happening on a school night.
I'm 55-year-old and I'm going to a gig at The Forum, and I'm thinking about what will I put on my feet, and how am I going to get home (easy - Uber/cab or tram, depending on the timing) and what am I going to feel like after standing for two hours in a crowded hall (She's sold out over three nights at the Forum) and will I have more than one drink and... and... and...
Why is it such a big deal to be going out on a school night? I used to be second nature.
It's going to be a long day. I'm letting in a tradie at the temple at 8 a.m. Then there's a full day's work, then I'll leave around 6, meet El, have a drink before we get to the Forum for around eight, as I'd really like to see Rubie Gill - I've been looking her up on YouTube, and she's great too.
But as much as I'm looking forward to this jaunt tomorrow night, and as much as my work colleagues rib me for being out a lot during the week, there is also something in me which thinks that being at home, talking to the cat having a cup of tea.
