Dec 10

An evening walk with Michael provokes memories of a blonde hair, freckle face boy from the country.

In the cool of the evening, we’re walking along the Gardiners Creek track in Glen Iris, listening to the bird life settling down for the night, the frogs starting to croak and the insects making their noises.

The crickets in particular cast my mind back to long hot summers day in Hamilton.  The day spent in the local swimming pool with little sun protection, getting sun-burned.  We would wander home and eat our dinner of limp lettuce and fresh home-grown tomatoes with whatever cold meat was on special that week.  As the cool of the night sets in Mum would take to watering the garden and grass.  In those days a sprinkler was left on for spraying its water everywhere, every now and then she’d wander out and drag it along the grass a little by pulling on the hose.  Those were the days, plenty of water, no thought for running the reservoir  dry.   We would be wearing only our togs on those balmy evenings.  The doors and windows of the old weatherboard house would be flung wide open hoping to catch any whisper of a cool breeze.  The big old water cooler would be regularly topped up with a bucket of water, pointed to Mum and Dad.  Mum in her light dress, dad in his white singlet and shorts.  He’d be drinking beer, pouring glass after glass from his long-necked bottle, Mum taking her time with her glass.  Him smoking, she knitting.

As darkness sets in the ground comes alive with the sounds of crickets.  Not cicadas, but the chirpy sounds of black crickets buried under the wet soil.

We’d rush outside when the chorus arose and jump up and down on the soggy lawn to silence then.  As quick as one would go silent under our earth tremor another would start and we’d dart about the lawn with laughter and a sense of duty to bring silence to the world.

Pepper Daisies along the Gardiners Creek track

Tonight as I walked along I heard those crickets under the lawn, in a flashback to my childhood I was about to turn around and jump on the spot when Michael walked over them and silenced them.

We walked on, my memory of a time long ago faded and a sense of relief that I didn’t have to explain to him why I was jumping up and down.   Still, I was left with a longing for a simpler time.

 

Sep 21

It was a simple request.

Did I know of any prominent Australian’s prepared to sign their name to a letter to stop the plebiscite.

Yes.  Yes, I do know some.  I began to make a mental list.

Then I started crying.

On a day when one of Australia’s newspapers publishes a derogatory cartoon depicting Nazi SS officers in ‘gay apparel’ and a day that saw the GLBTIQ radio station, Joy 94.9, receive a bomb threat, I was about to email people I know to ask for their support.

Ask?  Beg?  Feels like begging.

This is so deeply personal while the hate war rages around me I feel compelled to make a stand for a simple, basic, human right.

I have to ask others for their support.

Sometimes I’m not at all sure I’ll last the distance.  I will, of course.  It’s hard.

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Sep 20

I’m tired at the end of a long day, and as I sit down to read my daily emails and look for what the other side is saying, I come across Lyle Shelton’s latest blog on the ACL website.

It’s titled “SSM Leaders’ Failure To Condemn Violence Endangers Everyone’s Safety”

That should be enough to ward you off the rest of the blog, however, I need to call bullshit on this.  Turn away now…

OK, you’re still here, here goes:

Australians got a glimpse this week of what the ACL team has been living with for years.

Since some whacker wrote in the bible that I was worthy of death because I’m gay people like me have endured discrimination and vilification on a daily basis, and some of us continue to be the victims of hate crimes.  Up until quite recently GLBTIQ people have been incarcerated and some hanged for simply being gay.  So pardon me while I laugh at the claim of his religious sect being a little persecuted for a few years.  This pitching of the ACL and therefore Australian Christians as victims just doesn’t ring true for me.

They also got a glimpse of what will happen to their freedom of speech and freedom of association should marriage ever be redefined in law.

There is nothing to indicate that freedom of speech or freedom of association is at risk and this is nothing more than a standard scare tactic designed to make Lyle and his team seem like the real victims.

It simply will not be possible to publicly hold a dissenting view without facing demonisation at best and legal action at worst.

You do hold a dissenting view and you will continue to hold it after we have marriage equality.  What you won’t be able to do is to use your dissenting view to break the law.  You can’t do that now, I know this because I haven’t been stoned in a legal way.

The viscous intimidation of staff at the Sydney Airport Mercure Hotel brought to light one of the long-standing and key tactics of same-sex marriage advocates for shutting down debate.

He may have meant vicious, I’m not sure.

There has been no indication about the nature of the calls, and those expressing their disgust about the hotel allowing this meeting to be held on their premises is a legitimate way to protest.  I’m certain that there were plenty of calls, and some of them over the top.  The debate is not being shutdown, we get to voice our disgust, the same as you do Lyle when you go after organisations that display ads you don’t approve of or TV shows that you find reprehensible.  I’m pretty sure your side has its ratbags too.  You can’t have it both ways.  I’d also suggest that as we don’t know the names of the activists you alleged made the calls we have no way of verifying your information.  It’s also a stretch to imply that all activists are somehow connected.  We’re a diverse group and there’s no way for you or me to control the rage and anger for some.

The Mercure Hotel said that their staff were “rattled” by the phone calls and abuse they copped when activists started targeting them for hosting a pro-marriage event.

I’m sure that hotel staff often get rattled by nasty customers.  However, this seems to mostly be hearsay, mostly Lyle and his right-wing media buddies beating it up.

The Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Sydney, the Anglican Diocese of Sydney, the advocacy group Marriage Alliance and ACL had booked a meeting room to hold a campaign briefing for more than 100 coalition partner groups.

The meeting was scheduled for tonight and is going ahead at a different location.

Sadly, we have to meet in secret.

The world is a big place and yet you let everyone know that you and your mates will be meeting in a Sydney hotel, you’re surprised when that attracts attention and will result in the action that you’ve seen?  Why didn’t you hold it in secret in the first place?  Are you setting this up?

I don’t think this is the sort of Australia most people want created by the push to redefine marriage in law.

These tactics are not something new, it is the way the people protest to companies when they do something they don’t like.  Try and be a chicken farmer at the end of animal activists or a company providing pregnancy termination at the end of christian activists.

Australians feel uncomfortable with the situation where fellow Australians, who hold to the Millennia-old idea that marriage is between a man and a woman and that children, wherever possible, deserve their mum and dad, are having to meet in secret because of safety concerns.

Seriously, did you just make that appeal to mass approval without evidence?  Since when did you get to decide what Australians feel?  Aren’t those who oppose you also your fellow Australian?  The current version of marriage is not millennia-old.  The scurrilous claim that children ‘deserve’ something is emotive and a dirty play on words,  you don’t have to meet in secret, you could simply not advertise.  There is nothing to indicate that your safety was at risk.

ACL has, of course, faced this may times before but we have never lost a venue.

Until now.

People have often protested your venues, you know it and it was only a matter of time before one of your venues cancelled on you. This isn’t new or unusual.

The threats of violence have escalated and we were forced to leave the Mercure out of concern for the safety of staff and guests.

They are the innocent bystanders in this debate – simply doing their job in helping a client hold a meeting. Australia is now no longer safe, even for non-combatants.

Yep, threats of violence are not nice.  What were those threats and where are the records of them?  At times regretfully hotels make decisions based on credible threats.   This is probably more about the reputation of the hotel and less about you.

What the Mercure staff faced last week is what ACL’s staff face on a regular basis.

Our receptionist regularly fields threatening calls and has even had death threats and threats of physical violence.

We report these to the police.

I have no doubt that you do get those phone calls, you seem to think that you’re the only ones.  I recently was told that gay people should be rounded up and shot.

We also reported to the police instances of our female staff being emailed homosexual pornography.

One image contained what looked like a minor. The police have not been able to action this.

I was sent some pretty disturbing photos during the week.  I found the delete button.  Of course, you should report anything you find threatening, that’s common sense.  It doesn’t matter how hard any of us try, there will always be someone who doesn’t know how to behave.  Adding this to the ‘debate’ is a straw-man addition.

Last week a same-sex marriage activist, who is on a speaking tour for a same sex marriage organisation, entered our Canberra office and bizarrely made a mess in the women’s toilet.

The activist was peering through our downstairs windows.

With the memory of Senator Cory Bernardi’s Adelaide Office trashing fresh in our memories, our team was unnerved.

Why is this even in here?  It sounds like to me that you’re making an unsubstantiated accusation and equating that to all ‘same-sex marriage activist’ which is simply untrue and quite frankly pretty low.

Yesterday, when leaders of the same-sex marriage movement were asked by the media to condemn the activists who targeted the Mercure, they declined to do so.

In fact, they implied that groups like ACL had it coming.

When leaders fail to condemn this sort of activity, it only further emboldens the extremists in their movement.

*Yawn* You really are making this a bigger issue than it really is, and you know it.

Rodney Croome is quoted in the Australian:

Veteran marriage equality ­advocate Rodney Croome indicated his sympathy for the Christian groups was limited. “Threats, discrimination and refusal of service are painful, demeaning and completely unacceptable, as most LGBTI people know all too well, so I hope having had this experience the ACL will now reconsider its demand to roll back anti-­discrimination and anti-hate laws,” he said.

“The two sides of the marriage equality debate should be talking to each other to find common ground, but instead we face a divisive and unnecessary plebiscite that will only escalate these kinds of tensions and hostilities.”

So, his sympathy is limited, but not absent, he said that it was completely unacceptable and says that we’ve been putting up with it for years.  Also, this is The Australian, right-wing and one-sided.  Not sure why we have to take it at anything other than face value.

This has made me very worried for the safety of ACL office staff who bear the brunt of vitriol on a regular basis.

If people from our side were ringing the offices of Australian Marriage Equality or trying to shut down their events with threats of violence, I would be the first to condemn this.

Uhuh.  Aren’t you just the shining light of reasonableness!

Yet politicians like Labor’s Stephen Jones smear us by saying both sides are guilty of bad behaviour.

You are.

But he and others who lump us all in together provide no evidence.

It’s a bit rich that you would lump all ‘activists’ in the same bucket.  Has Rodney Croome ever called your office and been offensive?  No, I didn’t think so.  Has a christian who supports the ACL ever called a gay person and told them that they are scum and burn in hell forever?  Yes.

ACL is used to the double standards.

Of course you are.  You think somehow you are above this behaviour, but you have a history of abuse towards GLBTI people.

The rest of the nation is now beginning to wake up to this.

What exactly is it?  That people have double standards?  I’m pretty sure we’re used to that already.  Look at the mess we’re in now.  Malcolm Turnbull wants marriage equality but is taking us through this horrible process.   You’re also the picture of double standards, you bear false witness.  The reason you don’t want marriage equality has naught to do with children and everything to do with your belief that your version of god has said that marriage is between opposite sex couples and that sex should only happen inside marriage.  Why do you hide what you’re really after?  A world where women remain silent and simply provide babies inside marriage only.  Don’t you lecture us on double standards.

We will continue to speak about the consequences of taking gender out of marriage which lead to “Safe Schools”, where our children are taught their gender is fluid.

This has nothing to do with marriage equality.

We will continue to speak about the rights of children, wherever possible, to be loved and nurtured by their own mother and father – something same-sex marriage makes impossible.

This is simply naive and emotive.  Next you’ll be showing us pictures of Bambi.

We will continue to speak about the loss of freedom that same-sex marriage law creates.

There is no loss of freedom.

The same-sex marriage debate is a proxy for a radical re-ordering of our society’s understanding of gender and freedom of speech.

It’s not a proxy for anything.  It’s really very easy, I want to get married to the person I love, just like you.  Not that I want to marry you, well, I don’t.

I mentioned legal action earlier.

Hobart Archbishop Julian Porteous recently spent six months tied up in legal action before the Tasmanian Anti-Discrimination Tribunal simply for distributing Christian teaching on marriage.

This is serious folks.

Context?  You make it sound too simple, which it isn’t.

It is naïve to think it will get better once the law is changed and State-based Anti-Discrimination Law stands ready to condemn as hateful bigots any of us who publicly seek to teach our view of  marriage.

It will get better.  We function as a society a whole lot better when everyone is treated with respect and dignity.  This is lacking at present.  You won’t be prosecuted for being a bigot, in fact I’m confident that this won’t change your bigotry.  What you won’t be able to do is break the law.

We must not let intimidatory tactics stop us from participating in the debate.

Yes.  You’re not being intimidated really are you? You’re still out there participating in the debate.  You’re so big and brave.

Make no mistake, tonight’s meeting is going ahead. But I look forward to the day when we don’t have to meet in secret.

You don’t have to do it in secret.  It’s not like the Catholic Church hasn’t got space to host 100 people and not receive a single call of protest.  Stop going to businesses and thinking that we won’t complain.  I like to spend my money with supportive organisations and I will call and complain if they do something that I don’t like.  Then I’ll go somewhere else.   You need to do a proper risk assesment before picking a public venue to hold your secret society meetings.

To achieve this, we must persuade our fellow Australians to preserve marriage at the plebiscite or face continued persecution.

It is as simple as that.

You’ve made a convoluted argument where you’ve attempted to scare people into thinking that something really terrible is happening, overlooking that you regularly appear in the media and have political supporters who can and do speak openly and freely.  You will always be able to do that.

As someone said to me this week, if we are not allowed to have the debate we should not be making the change.

You are having the debate.  You and the ACL are leading the charge, as someone said to me this week, get over it.

 

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Sep 13

I reflect on the last week or so and ponder the huge cost this attention on me and my fellow queers across the nation is having. I get a sense of deep anger, resentment and bewilderment.

I am angry, resentful and bewildered by the actions of all of our politicians. It’s a constant barrage of political games as the to and fro between the Government and Opposition plays out.

I’m hurting, Michael is hurting, I’ve seen and read plenty of comments from my friends to see them hurting.

I’ve read the comments from parents about the impact that this is having on their children. Its distressing. I was in tears tonight reading about the school ground antics.

I’ve also see the community rally and support each other. I’ve got the support from allies who are stepping up and calling this for what it is.

There may not be evidence of an increase in self-harm and suicide, there is however evidence of emotional stress and mental health issues, and that’s just me.

This to me is really simple. My human rights may be voted on by the rest of the nation. That’s so wrong.

All I want is to marry Michael. That’s not so hard.

Thanks friends, be you straight or queer. I need you and your support, and I know that there are plenty of others that need it too.

I’ll continue to do my bit, I’m not sure how I’ll go as its overwhelming at times.

Now the wait while the plebiscite plays out.

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Sep 03

Just recently I re-connected with a fellow student from school.  We both grew up in Hamilton and went to St. Mary’s and Monivae College – I have no idea what happened to her after that.

The re-connection came about on Facebook when I found myself in a group for former students from Year 12.  I struggle to remember my school days and I struggle to remember most of my fellow students.  School for me was not a great experience.

As I sit here on a Saturday morning I’m reading this great article by Lane Sainty.  She is reporting on how difficult it is for non-straight kids in regional Australia to find support in their schools with all the bad press around the Safe School’s program.  In Queensland and NSW real queer kids are struggling with their sexual or gender identity.  The attacks on the program by the likes of the Australian Christian Lobby have made parents weary of the program.  So much so that those that most need the support are just not getting it.

One student who left the school was so distressed by the negative media that his mother was also referred to a psychologist as she struggled to support him.

“He believes the things he hears – he says ‘I’m a freak, nobody wants me’,” the student welfare worker said.

“He’s attempted suicide several times in the past few years.”

As I read this I recall my time in a small country town in the 1970’s.  I was at school and fighting with my re-connected friend.  I don’t recall the details, but the words she used I haven’t forgotten.

schooldoor

St. Mary’s school classroom corridor.

She was standing in the class room door – I was in the corridor.  The door was wooden with a frosted glass insert at head height.  The nun who was the principal used to knock on the glass with her ring.  I assume it was the wedding ring that meant she was married to Jesus.  He had quite the harem.

As my friend stood in the class room, she was trying to keep the door closed to prevent me from getting into the room.  I was crying and quite angry.  I was lashing out at her, hitting her arm I think, because she delivered this line, “Don’t let him in he’s a poof and we don’t want him in here”.

Memory is a tricky thing.  At this point I was stopped by one of the women teachers, that’d be Mrs Phillips or Mrs Peters and I got into trouble for hitting a girl.

No amount of my protesting would cut it.  It didn’t matter that I’d just been called a poof and that was why I was upset.  Nobody wanted to address why I found that upsetting, and indeed I had been hitting a girl.  That’s what the teacher saw.  I was then the bully.

There’s a lived lifetime between then and now.  I’m not looking for an apology, that isn’t needed.  We were both young and didn’t have a much of a clue about the words.  I don’t hold her responsible now, that’d be a crazy thing to do.  We’re both 50 something adults, that would be a long time to hold a grudge!  While at the time it was quite homophobic and I was quite violent, we’ve both changed.

You know what we both needed in the 1970’s?  A program that would help us understand each other.  I lashed out and caused physical harm to a girl.  She lashed out and caused emotional distress to a boy.  Very likely we both felt vindicated for our actions.   We needed the Safe Schools program.  Even in Grade 5 I knew I liked boys.  I knew I was different.  I don’t know whether she somehow knew or was simply calling me names.

After all these years, with all that we know as a society, we still have people trying to deny the reality of growing up.  Putting obstacles in the way to prevent kids just like me from getting help.

How different my life would have been if I didn’t have to contend with the negative images around my sexuality.  So much so that when I finally got to Form 6, Year 12, all I wanted to do was get out of there.  I was isolated and in despair because I carried with me the baggage from Grade 5 of lashing out and being identified as a poofter.

Those against the Safe Schools program think that the program will somehow be harmful to the kids.  It brings the issue of sexuality up before the child can cope with it.  That’s just a load of rubbish.  What I needed was a society that didn’t care if I was gay.  I had no positive words to describe the way I was.  I was surrounded by a world that used derogatory words to describe my sexuality.  I didn’t know what sex was, I had no idea about the mechanics of attraction, what I did know was that I wasn’t like the other boys and my fellow students knew this too.  I don’t think 40 years makes any difference to those now growing up.

At least now we can and do let our young people know that it’s ok to be yourself and to protect them from the phobias that other people have.

A footnote:  I did speak with my friend about this blog.  We agree that we need Safe Schools.  It strikes me that we just did what Safe School needs to do, a free exchange of thoughts communicated with humility and respect, we both came away with a better understanding of each other.

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Aug 23

The question for the proposed plebiscite on marriage equality was leaked over the weekend.

“Do you approve of a law that would permit two people of the same-sex to get married”

FFS.  Seriously.

There’s plenty written about this out there already, feel free to go and read it.

I don’t need the approval of anyone but the person I want to marry.  I don’t need the permission of my fellow citizens.  Oh, and he’s already said yes and we already did it.

I don’t need your permission or approval.  I’m not about to ask for it.  I didn’t ask the first time and I’m not asking the second time.

Yet, here I am feeling like my relationship needs the authorisation of every single citizen in the country.

A plebiscite is not a good idea.  The question sucks, and what about the rest of the queer community?   I won’t vote for my rights and have the rights of the trans and intersex communities ignored.  I’m standing for marriage equality not for whatever this is.

Marriage is about 2 people – who cares what their gender is.

I’m not sure I have enough left in me to fight this one.

It’s one thing to fight for equality, it’s another to fight against a plebiscite that is unjust, unneeded and outright stupid.

I don’t want a long drawn out campaign where I have to listen to others telling me that my relationship isn’t equal to theirs.  Having them pretend to justify their bigotry by hiding behind questionable research.  Having the No party pretending that it has nothing to do with their religion.

Already it isn’t nice.

I’m just… oh…

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Aug 01

In January 1944 fires swept through South Hamilton causing much destruction to property. It was something that my father spoke about many times over the years.  His family lost the house leaving his parents and their eight children homeless.

nan and pop-2In 1981, when my grandparents, Nell and Percy Storer were 81 years old, my brother Shane and his (now) wife Mary Lou, my little brother Craig and I sat down with Nan and Pop to talk about their lives.  We covered much in the afternoon, and here is a small snippet of the day my Nan watched her house burn to the ground.

I’m not sure it was on Friday January 13th 1944 as Friday was the 14th.  I think there is probably confusion with Black Friday fires in Victoria in 1939.

Anyway, have a listen and read along.

Nan: Just reading here where we sold our Portland Road home, it must’ve after the fires certainly, 1960.
Mary Lou: Were you married when you were burnt out?
Nan: Oh yes. Pat and Lo (Lois), Pat was about 7. 1944. Whatever Pat is now, and I remember Lo and Pat said to us, there after Christmas, Santa had been of course, at that age, and Pat had what she used to call a bunny rabbit thing, it was about that high and it was all fluffy, you know.
And that was one of her gifts with her Christmas stocking, and Lo had the doll and that’s the only things that they took with them.
Ray took us, our son Ray, they had the milk round at the time, he and Tom. They kept the cows over in another paddock and they sold them. They had a milk round for the town.
And Ray bundled us all into the float and Dad’s away fighting fires and Ray takes us away from the fires which began in the other direction you see.
It came roaring down the railway line out here at Portland Road and we could see it, we knew it was coming, and Ray got us all bundled into the float and we went down here right down here to the cutting. You know, down here at Digby Road and we stood up on the top there on the high part and we watched the house go and dad had a haystack, for once you had sowed something that was going to be feed for the cows anyway, what was it? wheat? Oats? Oats it would have been in those days, wouldn’t it?
And he had the stack and we saw that stack go up.
And first one we saw was Fyfe’s they, you know old Maurice Fyfe, they lived over near the Abattoirs, over there now, and they had quite a new house and we saw their house had … pine trees all around and the fire started in their cut, their, what do you call it? The spouting and it went all right around the top of the house and I said oh my god, look at Fyfe’s, and there it was, it went right around the top of the house first, we could see it from the cutting, you see. And way went their house and we knew ours wouldn’t be long. You couldn’t do anything you see, because you can’t fight fire.

Shane: And what year was that? That was in the 40’s?
Nan: That was 44.
Shane: 44
Nan: 44. We buried dad on the Monday, my dad, O’Connor, and … we were burnt out on the Friday.
Gregory: What month was that Nan?
Nan: That was January
Gregory: January 13?
Nan: 1944
Gregory: That was a Friday. That was Friday 13th
Nan: Yeah it was the 13th we all said that was unlucky day
Shane: So what did you get left with after the fires?
Nan: We didn’t have anything left but the chimneys and we had an iron kettle at the time and flat irons, you know, way back, and the old flat irons were still there and what was left of the stove wasn’t it. We had a wood stove and we had these flat irons. No electricity out there in the area then, it did come later didn’t it?
Shane: You must’ve been pretty disheartened?
Nan: Oh, so disheartening.
Shane: Did you cry for a week?
Nan: No, no you felt like a lump of lead in there.
Pop: You had to start again.
Nan: You did
Shane: No choice I suppose.
Nan: You knew you had your family there depending on you, you just had to pull yourself together.
Pop: Start from scratch
Craig: Did you rebuild a house or move to another place.
Nan: Tell you what, we moved into a little place and you thought you were going into the army or something. We moved into this tiny place. There were only two places and Glares, Dad’s sister, you see, they were burnt out at the same time opposite us and they got in before us and they got this big place that, they had the coffee shop use to be further down near the railways. They rented that. There were only about 2 places available by the time we got around to it, and we got this little place out near…
Pop: Scoresby St
Nan: Scoresby St, and we got Red Cross came to the aid of us all, everybody, not only us, all of us and and ‘coz you hadn’t anything, nothing, barely anything
Craig: And all the children were still at home where they? The 8 children?
Nan: We had the whole 8 of them, yes, Pat was only 7, and all home. And they brought us these, anything in emergency, you know the old iron beds? You fold the legs back, like that, and type of straw mattress and that and grey blankets. But they were good, they were clean in fact they were new, real new blankets that Red Cross kept for emergencies.
Pop: That was all army stuff
Nan: It’s what you call a real emergency you see, not only us, but we were happen to be bad luck.
Anyway all this army stuff came and we had the beds in this little house, they were lined up like this, the boys, Tom, Ray, Brian, I suppose Leon and Norman. I don’t know where we put them, oh no, our sister Stel took a couple of them and Julie Brebner she took them, John use to be friends with Ray and them you know she took Ray and gave, Tom and gave them a bed. Oh it was well, it was hell let loose, it really was. Because it just swept everything right from beneath your feet.

You can read some press clippings from the papers at the time on the Western District Families blog

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Jun 18

In my collections of cassette tapes I have some of my grandparents and parents telling stories.   I would have recorded these on my tape deck using a tiny little microphone.  The quality isn’t that great and there’s lots of background noise.

These are moments in time.

Percy

Percy, called Pop. 1980

This story is about 1938 when my paternal grandfather, Percy was out making roads at a place called Mooralla.  That’s just out of Hamilton, near Cavendish. As the story goes, my grandfather somehow pull a horse down on his leg and it broke his leg.  That’s my grandfathers leg, not the horse.

In 1980 Percy, my father, Brian and his eldest son, Daryl, were sitting around the dinning room table telling tales.  Shane, No. 5 son, the not-so-attractive-as-me, was also there and has a very minor role in the telling of the story.  Asking as he always does, the probing question.

I recall, or I imagine, it’s hard to tell this many years down the track, that it was a Sunday afternoon.  We would have been home from church.  Dad would have started the Sunday roast while we were at church.  My grandmother and mother would be in the kitchen talking about how to get the flour lumps out of the gravy, you can hear the sounds of the grand children in the back ground.  The tale unfolds.

Here’s the audio recording and the transcript below to help you make sense of what is being said.

Brian: What year did you break your leg?
Percy: 19… Pat was a baby..
Brian: Yeah, I know Pat was a baby
Percy: And that’s 42 years ago
Brian: 1936 or so?
Percy: 1938 it would’ve been
Brian: 38, 1938 when you put that little horse down on your leg
Percy: Yeah
Brian: And you know what he done? Lenny Presser’s father was bringing him home in the car, he had a motor bike helmet and he had to have a piddle so he piddled in the motor bike helmet and threw it out the window.
Daryl: [Laughs]
Brian: Now that, that thing that he threw out today.. was one of those you know…
Daryl: Yeah, leather type, yeah
Brian: Yeah, would be worth half a million bucks
Daryl: Yeah
Brian: Coz Percy pissed in it
Percy: We just started this road work up at Mooralla
Daryl: Oh yeah
Percy: I pulled this horse, young horse, I pulled on my leg and it just went [snap] just like that and he drove me to the hospital, the old hospital and he went in and seen Doctor O’Donnell and he came out, he said, you drive him back to the hospital he said, they’ll be there to meet you. And I got up to the hospital and they had a stretcher, put me on it. But they wouldn’t admit you in those days
Daryl: Without your doctor
Percy: Without going to your own doctor
Brian: That’s 1938, just before the war, you couldn’t work for 12 months. He was on crutches for a long time, then your arms give way under the crutches and I remember he finished up with a leg in plaster and an arm in plaster
Shane: Why did the arm give way?
Brian: Hey?
Shane: Why did the arm give way?
Brian: Nah, hey, with the use of the crutches
Percy: They were too long
Daryl: Your legs were too short
Brian: No, no. All that was wrong the crutches were, weren’t adjusted for him. And now there was Miller’s, Thompson’s, and ah, no, Miller, Miller’s, Laidlaw’s, Bullock’s, they all finished up knocking back credit.
Percy: That’s right. Yeah.
Brian: They all knocked back credit. Now. Father Edwards come out home, Port Fairy Road, ah, come out home and they ran a ball.
You or for us people and they ran a ball at the town hall here to help dad and family and this other bloke and his family, no I can’t either [remember who it was], I forget the other fellas name, but he was in the same… he had a big family too.
They put this ball on town hall for Pop and the family and this other bloke and his family. Now, it was a sell out.
Now I remember Father Edwards, now he come out home on the, it was on the Friday night, he come out home on the Saturday morning and we’d been eating rabbit for twelve months.
My mother when she cooked rabbit, nah, nah, she could cook them and we loved them.
He come out home then and he had all these left overs from the ball, you know,
lammingtons, sandwiches, chicken, you know, whatever might have been there, and he put them on the table.
By
jove, I can see myself and, I can still see myself and two bigger brothers, Tom and Ray, pushing others, yeah, it’s ours!
That’s it, we all had a good feed.
That was one of the things that the church and the town come to.

 

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Jun 14

handholding
Another mass shooting in the USA hardly seems surprising. Each one is horrific and I look at the senseless deaths and the grief of those who have lost their loved ones.

I am detached from the violence. I think the answer to end massacres like this is easy, putting it into action is proving somewhat harder for the USA.

The shooting in an Orlando gay night club is frightening for me because it specifically targeted the GLBTI community.

As I understand it, the murderer saw two men kissing and thought this an appropriate response.  That is simply beyond my comprehension.

Last night we had a minute’s silence at the Laird Hotel.  Michael and I went there for a karaoke night.  The pub is men only and it is crowded.  It was uncanny when the silence became real.  A noisy pub with loud music, singing, the sound of laughter, the loud conversations all ceased.

A poignant moment as the hush descends and my mind turns to the reality of what has happened.  A bunch of people, just like me, out for a good night’s entertainment.  Enjoying the company of our community, having a good time.  Then terror.  Tears roll down my cheeks.   I hug Michael in one of the few places where I feel safe to do so.  Now, for a moment that too seems dangerous, I have an irrational moment of angst.

In the sorting out that will follow my community will be sidelined.  Yet again the focus will shift away from the real reason for this and we will settle on the individual and hold him accountable.  Little focus will be on the root cause.  That root cause is what is loosely called holy texts.  The bible, the koran, the torah or whatever other ancient text.

In the version I grew up with it says this:

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall be put to death, their blood is upon them.

As much as this is down played with the notion that somehow I can be saved, the real issue is not addressed.  There it is in everyday English, ‘abomination’ , ‘death’ and ‘blood’.  The catholic church builds on this to claim that I am intrinsically disordered.

Want to fix it?  Get over your ‘sacred’ text and strike out those phrases.  Its time for a rewrite – we can call it the expurgated version.  It’s not the first time it’s been re-written.

People are dying.  That needs to stop.

We all need to feel secure in our world.  You know what, I want to personalise this.  I need to feel secure and I don’t.

The Premier of Victoria says that Victoria is a safe place.  He has encouraged couples like Michael and me to hold hands in public.  I feel mostly safe, but yet here again is a reason that makes me nervous.  There are organisations, politicians and the media who continue to exist to undermine my security and continue to want me to climb back into the closet and lock the door.

I want to feel safe.

Thank you to all my family and friends who provide that security.

Just maybe love will win.

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Apr 25

Here’s me in the kitchen again, this time cooking some ANZAC biscuits.

ANZAC biscuits trace back to the first world war and it’s said that the wives of soldiers sent boxes of them to the front line as they kept well.  Check out the history on the Wikipedia page.

In my family however, they are simply a quick and easy biscuit to make to feed the hungry masses.

 

ANZAC Biscuits

2 cups rolled oats
1 cup sugar
1 cup of flour
1 tablespoon golden syrup
1 teaspoon bi-carb soda
2 tablespoons boiling water
125g butter, melted

Oven 160c
cooking 18-20 minutes

Mix oats, sugar and flour in large bowl
Mix golden syrup, soda and boiling water in a small bowl. While frothing add melted butter and pour into dry ingredients, Mix thoroughly.

Drop in spoonfuls on tray and allow room for mixture to spread

Bake.

anzac biscuits

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