Awards have recently been handed out in the local food and beverage caper. Who better to give the results their imprimatur than Sean and Co at Sydney Food Diary, along with their own winners. Plus reviews of quality locations supported by delightful images.
Otherwise I’m outta here today for a trip up north, only to realise it’s a long weekend. Except for Queenslanders, due to life up there being one big holiday. Or so the marketing mob would have us believe. No matter, if the North Queensland Cowboys win the NRL Grand Final plenty will take the day off anyway. Good luck to them.
(1) The scene yesterday afternoon in Rose Bay where the jaws-of-life were used to free a young bloke from an overturned car (2) Rose Bay seaplane, River Cat and Point Piper background (3) Possibly a Bondi-Bourke Basher-Dodge Rambler, I think (4) Water Taxi waiting at Watson's Bay, minimum fare to City $60 thence $10 for each extra passenger (5) Wasted shift for a cabbie and common pain for owner (6) Lambo at Star City casino (7) Sign of the times (8) Who's this 'girl', caught in a time zone performing on ABC TV? (images enlarge)
WHY HATE AMERICA ? This month, The Salon, Sydney's Monthly Arts & Debate night, gets up close and personal with USA and the American way of life...
The opening blurb to a regular debate night being held tomorrow, Thursday in Surry Hills involving Investigate editor and New Yorker James Morrow, local journo/blogger Antony Loewenstein and Assoc. Professor Neville Meaney. Promises to be a lively yet civilised debate with a moderator presiding. I'm hoping to drop in and catch the action.
In addition there's an art exhibition by Anthony Bennet, poets, short filums and free grog. Nah, just joking. There is however a modest cover charge. Everyone welcome.
From the Swan’s football flag proudly flying on the Harbour Bridge to the pink feature lighting of State Parliament House, Sydney’s looking just fabulous. Daarrrling.
Buildings on Macquarie Street last night were bathed in various shades of red and pink. Old Sydney Hospital got the Swan’s colour about right, whilst the Mitchell Library veered towards a reddish pink. However Parliament House had no hesitation in going full pink.
In fact so pink is the display, I’m left wondering if they're actually celebrating the entry this week of New South Wales first openly gay female MP, rather than the Swan’s momentous victory. Or maybe, in an admirable demonstration of cost saving, the Government is simply killing two birds with one stone, by dually toasting a gay and football milestone together.
Speaking of which, around 5 pm on Oxford Street I picked up two twenty-something fellas, one of whom seductively waved his leg at me on approach. Cute. I’ve had plenty of drunken females do this but never a bloke. Needless to say he was pissed as a fart. Fortunately his mate, resplendent in a red Swans’s jumper, was sober and acting as a chaperone.
Right from the start the drunk was out of control, trying to reach me around the security screen, yelling out the window and generally acting the goat. Within two blocks he was asking me to loan him $50, promising to, ‘pay you back tomorrow’. I was sorely tempted to suggest he get off at The Wall and earn it, but thought better of it. Indeed, by this stage I was thinking of the nearest police station, fully expecting trouble.
Suddenly the back seat went dead quite and I feared the idiot was about to throw up. Glancing around I was relieved to see the sober guy tenderly embracing the drunk. He was good, knowing exactly how to settle the drunk down. ‘Down’ being the operative word. The drunk spent the remainder of the journey with his head in his mate's lap.
Me, I didn’t care what they were doing back there, anything for some peace and quiet. So on approach to their street it was no surprise to hear the sound of a zipper being closed. That’s fabulous Sydney this week. A football town.
UPDATE : Bob in Comments has pointed out the pink lighting campaign is in honour of Breast Cancer Month. Silly me.
Old DD McNicholl in today's The Australian laments the underwhelming street vibe in Balmain, after Wests-Tigers made the rugby league grand final,
A couple of beer-drinking lads, resplendent in their Wests jerseys, are but a reminder of days gone by when the club's burly working class supporters drank beer in foaming pints. Today the blokes of Balmain are accountants or money market managers who drive BMWs or Mercedes 4WDs and whose favoured drink is a double skim latte.
Admittedly I didn't make it into Balmain proper over the weekend, though I did witness the excitement outside the Balmain Leagues Club at Rozelle, late on Saturday evening. To avoid the madness in the City after the dual wins of the Swans and the Wests-Tigers, I chose to work up and down Victoria Road instead.
Almost every other passing vehicle used their horn to salute the many fans congregating outside the club and spilling onto the roadway. Granted, these motorists didn't strike me as Balmain residents but rather had descended on the area from suburbs further out. Whatever, their excitement was not to be denied so good luck to them, they deserve it.
State Government minister Frank Sartor goes on Koori radio and takes some liberties with Koori language. In calling for Aboriginal Housing Company boss Mick Mundine to get 'his black arse' down to see him, Sartor stupidly, yet without malice, invoked a local familiarity which upset all and sundry.
Of course what Sartor should have said to Mundine was, 'Get your slack arse down to see me because the Aboriginal Housing Company couldn't organise sex in a brothel. Your mob has been workshopping a Master Plan for The Block for over 5 years and what have you got to show for it - zilch. Either you do the job, or I will'. Needless to say the AHC would strongly reject such a charge.
Given this appears to have been the implicit threat underlying Sartor's indiscreet comment, it's no wonder Mundine and his mates have now taken offence and decided to play the 'ol race card. Anything to deflect attention from the real issue of redeveloping The disgraceful Block.
International website Taxi-L is a comprehensive repository of all things cabs. I've only recently come across Taxi-L via a memorial page dedicated to slain cabbies. One image which really got to me was of Melbourne driver, Benu Prasad-Adhikari. Benu was murdered last year whilst talking to his son on the phone, shown here on the left. (image enlarges)
The case came to court on Wednesday with evidence detailing a pointless waste of life, for both the victim and the scumbag perpetrator.
One link from Taxi-L is to a Catholic website which nominates the patron saint of cabbies as St. Fiarce. Despite being a (small 'c') Catholic I've never heard of the bloke. But given he's also the patron saint of gardeners, my former profession, he'll do me. Cabbies will accept any protection available. Unfortunately it's too late for Benu Prasad-Adhikari. May he rest in peace.