RADelaide

Had organised a 6 week holiday beginning this month, only to find out that Kris Kristofferson is touring the country. The lone Australian date he had scheduled before I was due to fly out is in the goddam city of churches itself, Adelaide. Realising he’s pretty old (83, I think) and probably won’t be touring again, I figured it’s really now or never if I want to see him perform live. He’s one of my favourite songwriters ever. While he might never be described as a vocal powerhouse, his limited singing ability is aspirational for me. Plus the gig is at Thebarton Theatre, which I’d heard of and had a vague desire to visit. This is a two for one, So I bit the bullet and booked an overnight in Adelaide the night before I’m flying out to The Europe.

I’m typing this having just got in from the show/a quick nightcap at the pub (Prancing Pony do a very agreeable amber ale, almost make you think you were in Middle Earth or some shit). Mixed feelings, I wanted to see him play, and I did. He was better in the second half, the crowd got into it a bit more; still very subdued, it was very much an older crowd. For me ally his stereotypical country breakup songs he has, took a different meaning. Like he was saying goodbye in a much more definite, final and mortal way. Particularly when he played For the Good Times near the end of the whole show, I got a little teary. It felt like an old man at the end of his powers almost playing his own last rites.

Scott Joss (check spelling) as part of the backing band was brilliant. He mostly played fiddle, including one blistering solo that left his bow trailing a few hairs, but also some guitar and took lead vocals on a few tunes. Vocally was much more at the height of his powers. Not quite the bass of Kristofferson, but had an almost Nelsonesque warble, clear and commanding. I could’ve probably quite happily listened to more of him, if it weren’t for the fact the Kris was the man I’d come to see, and see him I did.

I could go on, but I’d just be rambling. If you have the opportunity to see him on the rest of the tour, then do it. And if you find yourself daring to think that maybe he’s over the hill, then make believe you love him one more time...for the good times.

My phone died while I was waiting to board the plane in Brisbane, but luckily I found a potato in the gutter out side the theatre. Please enjoy these spuds eye views of the concert

Rosebud

After posting this I’m going to and shop online for something to wear for next month’s “Funky Sock Friday.” I may work 9 to 5 in an office, but I still have a personality dammit! I prove it by joining half the office in wearing colourful socks on the first Friday of every month. Send through pics of your favourite funky sock! I will decide may favourite. 

Socks will be judged on the following criteria:

• Theme
• Use of colour and movement
• Funkiness
• Danceability
• Lighting and mood
• Sockervescence

Winner of favourite funky sock will get a message notifying them of their victory. An unframed, A5 sized “Best Taste in Funky Socks” certificate available on request, but can only to ship to Australian addresses. Winner will be announced at some point, probably. All judgements are final, unless there’s an official protest or I change my mind.

The below wasn’t the piece I was intending to finish today, but it is about as appropriate to my current mood. I guess if I was in the mind to make it heart-warming or inspiring, I’d try and finish it by saying something like - “the time is now, roll up the sleeves and get on with the job. You put yourself here and it’s up to you to pull yourself out.” But all I can say to that right now is, if you want that, go watch Dead Poets Society, or read some Walt Whitman and carpe diem or whatever. Go get uplifted someplace else. The best you’re getting here this week is a hokey totally genuine sock competition.

Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May
John William Waterhouse - 1909

Rosebud

I used to have the time,

All the time in the world.

To sit and ponder nothing,

Or dream of pretty girls.

To line all my tomorrow’s,

With wonders yet to come.

Or lay back and reminisce fondly,

On wild parties, and good fun.

I’ll get to it next week,

Next month, or even next year.

“Hey slow down what’s the rush?

Let’s relax with another beer.”

I miss those times of ease,

When life slipped by so slow.

Now I’m in a rush,

Everywhere I have to go.

Losing touch with childhood friends,

And best mates with a hundred bills.

No more room for late nights, or late starts,

No more room for Sunday thrills.

They tell me it is maturing,

Getting responsible, growing older.

I find all it ever does,

Is make the world seem a little colder.

A place so full of promise,

Full of wonderment and lust,

I find now to be hollow,

Empty, meaningless dust.

No more ‘next year’s

Only yesterdays.

A life once full of ‘what if?’s

No place now for ‘maybe someday.’

Still the seasons continue to pass,

And the years they slip on by.

I can’t help but now think,

Did I ever even try?

Seriously though. Life is never quite so bad when you’re equipped with a really solid functional pair of socks, no matter what they look like.

Abstinence Now

Abstinence Now 

Capt. Benjamin Willard: Toowong… Shit... I’m still only in Toowong… Every time I think I’m gonna wake up back in the bottle. When I was sober after my first month it was worse. I’d wake up and there’d be nothing. I hardly said a word to my flatmate until I said yes to moving out. When I was there I wanted to be here. When I was here, all I could think of was getting back into the bottle. I’m here a week now, waiting for a drink, getting softer. Every minute I stay in sobriety I get weaker. And every minute Charlie holds up the bar he gets stronger. Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter…

Nearly two weeks into my annual “No Drinking Between New Years and Australia Health Kick.” Leaning on sobriety to try and coax my body’s vital organs into hanging on for another 12 months. I’ve taken to walking to pass time. Just this morning I was rambling through the park, coming up behind a lady with this heavy duty looking double shoulder brace contraption. I was trying not to stare while I wondered what sort of horrible life changing accident she’d been through to have to wear such a thing.

As I passed I realised it was a baby carrier containing an infant.

 
That’s some sort of life changing accident right there…

Chief: Captain. You’re giving away our Fourex for a Playmate of the Month?

Capt. Benjamin Willard: Nope… Playmate of the year. 

Colonel Kurtz: I watched a worm drowning in a bottle of tequila. That’s my dream; that’s my nightmare. Drowning, choking, in a bottle of tequila… and surviving.

As you can see the Bin Chicken Ballet is in town
I passed by this danseuse in the park
displaying a textbook first Ar-Ibis-que

Lt. Col. Kilgore: I love the smell of Bloody Mary’s in the morning.  

Smells like… Victory… 

I probably need to take more water next time I go for a walk.
Think the sun got to me and I might’ve got a little dehydrated there…

Capt. Benjamin Willard: Every man gets everything he wants. I wanted a drink. And for my sins they gave me one. Brought it up to me like room service...