Category: Review

In the days before COVID 19: It’s market day…

We come from Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, and moved to Queensland about 32 years ago, leaving behind a large chuck of our family. For a while it was a good excuse for them to come up and stay in sunny Queenland, and others, we would make two or three trips back to Melbourne every year.

And, being AFL football fans of the club Hawthorn, those visits were more likely to be during winter, co-inciding with games our team were playing in.

Then, after about 20 years, when the whole city seemed to have changed, and not necessarily for the better, we started rediscovering places we used to go to as children, for the purpose of showing them to our grandchildren.

This is one of those occasions, written after a visit before COVID stopped tourism and interstate travel dead in its tracks.

…

These donuts are whole with jam injected into them and are delicious.  You cannot stop at one, which is why you get five.

There are like the donuts I used to get from the Dandenong market when I was a child.  Back then, nearly 60 years ago, I used to go every Tuesday to get fruit and vegetables, and sometimes clothes, because there were other stalls selling useful household items.

Back then we used to get donuts, and for a long time, I had never managed to get back when the market was open to relive those childhood memories.

This trip we do.

The Dandenong Market had changed considerably since the last time I remember it.  The building where my eldest son used to play basketball has been turned over to meat, fish, and food stalls.

It has spread to be about ten times the size it used to be, making it seem like a difficult task to find the donut van, but we entered by the right entrance and there it was.

And the donuts?

They were exactly as I remembered.

While we’re in the area we also make a trip to the Springvale market.  When I lived in Victoria there was no such market, this had only been around since the immigrant Vietnamese have made their home in Springvale, and in places, it reminds you of similar markets in Singapore, Hong Kong, or China.

It was a fascinating half-hour of wandering around almost feeling like you are somewhere in South East Asia.

With markets like these who would really need a supermarket?  And a bonus?  The street food.

I never thought it would be so difficult…

To get a decent cup of coffee.

Yes, something as simple as that.

We all have our favourite places, ours is a coffee franchise called Zaraffas. It has a giraffe as its logo, and an African motif to remind us of something, perhaps that they make good coffee, or the coffee comes from Africa.

Problem is, it’s been going downhill. It’s happened before, and I suspect it’s all in the name of making more money, and not being interested in the customer’s desire for a good cup of coffee.

It started out as being the best compared to a lot of other places, like Coffee Club, like Starbucks, and others. I never liked Starbucks, and my hate affair began in New York, and spread back home. Their coffee is far to weak for a double shot. Perhaps only in China does Starbucks shine, or the fact it was the only coffee franchise we could believe was safe.

But, back to Zaraffas, recently the coffee has been getting weaker, which for a double shot, is odd. You might put it down to the fact staff turnover was high, and some were still learning to be baristas, but then, the people we used to rely on made the coffee, and it was still weak.

A double shot went to a triple shot. Slight improvement, but it gradually got worse. There’s only two excuses, they changed coffee beans to a cheaper brand, or they’re not putting as much coffee in the strainer. That, I learned, when looking up the making of coffee, can be critical. It needs to be tamped down tightly to get a good brew.

So, we went elsewhere, a place called Merlo. It’s cheaper, but the results are completely different. A double shot is a true double shot, it tastes better, much better. Different beans.

There’s another place just around the corner, that had organic coffee. More expensive, but you can really taste the difference.

I’m sad, but we don’t go to our usual place unless it’s on the way home. Life’s too short to be compromising, especially where coffee is concerned.

And, just as a matter of interest, while in New York for a week, I went to the same coffee shop every morning, and never got the same cup of coffee for each of the days. A double shot, latte with two sugars had so many different connotations, by the third day, it became a game, until I realised they didn’t make coffee the same as we have in Australia. There they just push a button.

Perhaps that’s part of the coffee drinkers adventure there, you never know what you’re going to get. In the end, I settled for the brewed coffee and vanilla milk in the hotel’s breakfast bar.

Is it possible we can make a better world?

I’m not sure what started me off in pondering this almost imponderable question.

It was probably the endless bombardment of political advertising, leeching out of every form of media, and reaching saturation point.

Yes, down here in Australia, we have federal elections, where one of the two major parties are hoping to be in control, and all of the minor parties are hoping they will be in control.

You see, here, you don’t have to have a majority in the lower house, called the Representatives, you need to have the numbers in the upper house, called the Senate.

And the Senate is where the cunning voters make it so that no major party can go berserk and introduce a whole lot of policies that benefit one group or the other.  Sort of like sticking up for the rich, and keep the poor in their place, or sticking up for the poor and taxing the rich, who, apparently, don’t pay their fair share of tax.  That gem of information comes from one of the parties.  As if any of us didn’t know that to be the case anyway.

Only that doesn’t work out so well, because the leader of the splinter party gets a whole lot of stuff for his electorate, and we, the rest of the people, get shafted.

As for me, I’m sitting on the poverty line, neither rich nor poor enough for either party to help.  Me and about 65 per cent of the rest of the population.  We used to have a middle class, but tax and bad political management have slowly eroded the middle classes so that most are now living hand to mouth at best.

No one can afford to save, and when we do, the interest, what little of it there is, is taxed, so, no incentive to save.  Both parents have to work if they want to have any sort of life, and more so if they have children.  Childminding costs are horrendous, Medicare fees are equally so if you want to have adequate medical care, and the thought of owning one car, let alone two which is a necessity for families, costs a small fortune when you take into account buying the car, upkeep, petrol, and the governments grab for registration.  They say it’s for road maintenance, but let’s not talk about roads, but the maintenance of two Boeing 737’s just to ferry politicians around.

And instead of telling us what they intend to do to make our lives easier, the ads are about dredging up the opposite party’s previous mistakes.  We already know what they are, what we want to know is what they intend to do to fix all the problems.

Sorry, just being a grump.  I know my one person rant doesn’t matter one fig, but I had to get it out of my system.

I also have begun to believe my one vote doesn’t really matter much in the greater scheme of things but if I could just influence another 500,000 to vote with me, wow, think of what we could do.

Maybe I should run for parliament, or not.  I don’t think I could survive the evenings in the parliamentary bar, the free lunches, or being chauffeur driven.   And flying first class everywhere, I just might get used to it, and the retirement fund, that’s just too much money to think about.

I’ll just stick to being the poor, cynical voter that I am.

Is one vote worth anything these days?

Here’s another interesting question that seems to have been forgotten in the election.

The value of one vote.

Let’s forget about the 50 million or so so-called possible illegal postal ballots, and concentrate on just one.

Your vote.

Has any election of any candidate ever depended on one vote? Well, perhaps not, but I’m willing to bet that there have been occasions where the separation between winner and loser has been about 20 or so.

After a dozen legal challengers and recounts.

But…

The point here is, that one vote, your vote, could have been one of those 20. Or just one.

This year seems to be the year where one vote will make a difference.

Just think! That divine right given to you, that one vote, could change the very fabric of what happens in the future.

How often has it been where one person has changed the course of history, sometimes not for the better, but by and large, they have. I know, where we are, my one vote got the right man elected, and he has given us better roads, better sporting facilities to keep kids off the streets, better bus services.

We have learned not to expect miracles, but sometimes, after casting that one vote, miracles are possible. And what was more miraculous was that none of the candidates stooped to trashing the other.

We got policies, we got promises, and we got action.

Can politics get any messier?

Perhaps a question we should be asking is whether there are still any laws that cover libel or slander. I often mistake one for the other, whether oral or written.

But…

Shouldn’t someone wheel out the legal cart during elections, and put the brakes on some of the stuff being said about candidates?

And after it’s said, the media takes great joy in repeating the remarks, in as large a typeface as they can, perhaps proclaiming the Editor’s bias towards one party or the other.

I’m guessing that journalism standards have dropped to such a low point that even I could qualify to write for a news outlet, and that’s saying something.

My problem, I suspect, is that I have integrity, so I’d be the last person they’d hire.

Equally, I’m guessing, it’s these libellous and slanderous statements that make the best headlines, and, as they say in the circulation department, the trashier it is, the more papers they sell, or whatever it is that brings in revenue.

They’ll tell you that people don’t want the truth. The truth is too depressing, so they tend not to look under the covers and journalists are more interested in writing about whatever is contentious. The Police are a likely target for one side. Protesters (sorry, so-called communist agitators) is a target for the other.

Whatever happened to ‘no one will get left behind’?

It seemed to me to be a very good slogan at the time of the 2016 election. I bet a lot of people thought, hey, it’s about time we all got on the train, not just some of us.

What happened? Did the train leave, and we all failed to get to the station on time?

But you know what’s worst of all – it’s only going to get worse.

70 odd days to go and we are no doubt going to find out every horrible detail about all of the candidates that are up for election.

It’s not about the good they might do, or the policies the country’s crying out for, or the fact they might be decent, honest, family people. Forget that, that doesn’t sell papers, it’s the dirty laundry we want to hear about, about them, their family, anyone who can be trashed in a public forum without any filter.

Is it possible not to cast a vote, simply because you hate the lot of them?

Is there a middle line, an independent, someone who has no axe to grind, someone who doesn’t spew hate with every word they utter?

Or would it perhaps a better idea is to vote for ‘none of the above’, even if you have to write that on the ballot yourself and tick that box.

‘None of the above”…

Now, where have I heard that before?

Going home

Home has a great many different meanings, for me, and, I guess, a great many others.

Over a lifetime we have a lot of different homes, we tend not to stay in one place all our lives.

I know, for me, my first home was in Carrum, when I was very young, and I don’t remember much of it. My second home was Mordialloc, but, again, I don’t remember much of it either.

My next home was Dandenong, in not one house, but two, the first I spent my grade school years, the second, my secondary school years, and in between a short period in a country town called Berrigan.

Then, after getting married, I left that house where my parents continued to live for quite a few years, as we bounced around, from Burnley to North Dandenong, having been drawn back to where I used to live, then back home to my parents for a short period, and North Dandenong again.

It’s curious how we return to certain places to live, rather than consider another suburb say North or West.

Equally curious about how I tend to call going home, when traveling in Australia, not, as you would think, our home in Queensland, but where we used to live in Victoria. I guess that is because it’s my spiritual home.

People often ask if we would return to Victoria, and the answer, of course, is no. We might have most of our in-law families there, but it is not enough of a pull to return. We are content just to come back once or twice a year.

For us, Melbourne had become too large a city, with all the problems that go with it. Brisbane has and will be for the rest of my lifetime, have much fewer traffic problems and the feel of being less urbanized. One thing I don’t miss about being in Melbourne is the traffic. It is horrendous, any time of the day and night.

But what would be good in Brisbane is the markets like those at Queen Victoria and South Melbourne. We have nothing like it.

And something else, rather more frivolous, Brisbane doesn’t have the same fish and chips, donuts, or spring rolls and dim sims. Every time we come down, those are the first things we get, even if we have to go out of our way.

But if someone was to ask, off the cuff, where my home is, it always comes out as Melbourne, and I have no idea why.  When they ask where I live, which is supposedly the same, I tell them Brisbane.  I guess it has a lot to do with where you grow up, though I’m still trying to figure it out.

At least it’s easy when I’m overseas.  When they ask, the answer is, simply, Australia.

In a word: Pause

Yes, when you are going at it like a bat out of hell, it might be an idea to take a pause and regroup.

That being a pause as an interruption to an activity.

In music, it’s a mark over a note.

Perhaps it’s a good idea to pause recording a TV show while the ads are on.  Networks don’t like it, but it makes the show make more sense without the distractions of advertisements, sometimes quite inane, or annoying.

What I just said, might give pause to my opposite number in this debate.

Have you been in a conversation, someone says something quite odd, and there’s a pregnant pause?

How did the word pregnant get into the conversation?  That, of course, usually means something significant will follow, but rarely does.  But it can also be a conversation killer where no one says anything.

Is that a wide eye in awe moment?  You did WHAT?

Then there is the word pours, sounds the same but is completely different.

In this case, the man pours water from the bucket on the plants.

Or my brother pours cold water on my plans.  Not literally, but figuratively, making me think twice about whether it would work or not.  Usually not.

Or a confession pours out of a man with a guilty conscience.  AKA sings like a bird.  Don’t you just love these quaint expressions?  It reminded me of a gangster film back in Humphrey Bogart’s day.

It never rains but it pours?  Another expression, when everything goes wrong.  A bit like home renovations really.

Really, it means to flow quickly and in large quantities, ie. rain pours down.

And if that isn’t bad enough, what about paws?

Sounds the same again, but, yes it’s what an animal has as feet, especially cats, dogs, and bears.

One use of it, out of context, of course, is ‘get your paws off me!’

And one rabbit paw might be good luck, but having two rabbit pows, I might win the lottery.

If only….

 

 

I’m glad I’m not in America…

Sadly, it’s true.

The problem is, I don’t know what to believe.   Are there more cases of COVID 19 there than anywhere else in the world?  Are there more deaths?

I read some reports that say that everything that is reported about COVID 19 in the US is nothing but lies, I believe the actual term used is ‘fake news’.

What is fake news?

From another side, that of the fake news outlets, yes I tuned into one of President Trumps political speeches (sorry, COVID 19 updates), and discovered that CNN and the New York Times were the leading culprits of spreading fake news, it seems that everything is going to hell in a handbasket.

Democrat lies, I’m told.  The President, on the other hand, says the US is moving ahead incredibly, the economy is booming, everyone is going back to work, school is in, and COVID is just a distant memory.

Who is right?  How do you make an informed decision?

I’m confused.  I want to visit New York, but one side is telling me it’s not safe, that infections and death is not going away, and the other, come on over, everything is fine.

Why, then, does my government tell me I can’t go anywhere?

Have the Democrats invaded my country and now telling us what we can and can’t do?

Will they be forming a radical left movement here and start up the looting and destruction of our cities?  And move onto defunding the police?

That’s another thing I don’t understand.  If your police departments have been defunded, and all the police are quitting, who is in charge of law and order, for that matter, is there any law and order?

Can someone PLEASE tell me what’s going on?

In a word: lesson

I went to school and learned a lesson. We often hope that our children learn from these lessons, but sometimes the lesson learned was not the one intended.

This could be called a useful piece of practical wisdom, and for me that was, don’t get into fights at the back of the schoolyard.

The former lesson can be, on one hand, a section of school work, from a larger continuous topic, or, part of a book, which can be an exercise.

Then there’s the study of the past and the hope that we can learn from the lessons of the past.

Sadly, in a lot of cases, we don’t and are therefore doomed to repeat the past, only with far more devastating consequences.

A lesson can also be a passage from the bible.

Or is it lessen, where we reduce the costs.

So lessen means reduce, to make less.

It’s a cold snap, and a do or die playoff game for the Maple Leafs

It’s an interesting expression, a cold snap, which probably would be more suited to describing freezing vegetables than the state of the weather.

But, it’s a fitting description, made all the more miserable watching the Maple Leafs playing the fourth game in the series, vying for a chance to continue their campaign for the Stanley Cup.

It’s two goals to none and no prizes for guessing who is none, and as much as I hate to concede defeat, it doesn’t look good.

So, it’s back to the weather, currently a more interesting topic of conversation.

Usually in winter, in Brisbane, it’s a lot warmer, and it’s supposed to be 26 degrees Celcius today, which would imply blue skies and sunshine.

As usual, the meteorological department has not quite got it right. Right now, its just past midday, and the temperature is 22 degrees centigrade, but there’s no sunshine, so there’s a ‘feels like’ factor here, and my guess is it’s more like 12 or 13.

And, just as I stepped out to check the weather, and the Blue Jack scored another goal. It’s now 3-0.

It’s looking very grim looking in this direction which is towards the ocean.

Looking the other way, there’s a ray of hope with slivers of blue sky trying to break through the cloud cover.

Where are the Maple Leafs?  One gets the feeling right now, they’re just going through the motions.

Oh, well, back to the weather…

Meanwhile…

Hang on, we just scored a goal and it’s 3-1. Hope springs eternal? The player I follow, Nylander, scores.

Now we’re playing with an empty net, sometimes a dangerous thing to do. OK, I just managed to catch my breath, and we just scored another goal. The score is now 3-2.

How many players can you fit in a net, because everyone is in the Blue Jackets net? Attacking. Attacking.

Yes, another score. It’s now 3-3.

I can’t believe it, and neither can the commentators. I don’t think anyone can, but if there had been spectators, there’d almost be a riot right about now.

So, we now have over time.

So, time to calm down, get a drink and a snack, and get back in time for the fourth period.

Of course, we expected the Maple Leafs would continue with their late boost in momentum, but things sorts of evened up as the minutes’ tick by.

Thinking that it was bogged down, I left the room to do something else, and, lo and behold, Mathews gets a goal and we won.

Typical.

Then I went outside and the weather had changed, more along the lines of what the weather bureau predicted.

Or was it because the Maple Leafs won?

Let’s hope the sun keeps shining because there’s another game to go.