A Snog or a Durrie

How good is hearing one of your favourite songs played on the radio?

Even better when it is a long time favourite unearthed to tickle the airwaves once more.

Music has the ability to move your emotions. It can motivate you, take you places, make you laugh, or even cry, perhaps rejoin you with distant memories…

Or just make you sick!

Uh?

Recently TomO and I were driving along the freeway and one such song came on the radio…

Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy)” by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, a great Aussie rock-band.

I was growing up in Townsville, North Queensland and heading into puberty faster than warp speed just as this song was released.

Strewth, remember those free and easy days?

You could head off on your bike with your mates in the morning with strict instructions to be back for dinner.

In reality we were usually back by lunchtime. Food was required on a regular basis with all that testosterone sloshing around!

But testosterone and girls is for another time…

Anyway, TomO says…

“So Dad, you like this song, hey?

“It’s fitting ‘cause Mum and me think you are just a little bit crazy, that’s for sure.”

I reminded him that he was a chip off the old-block and he might just be a little crazy as well…

“Sure, it is one of my all time favourites” I said, “it takes me back to a time when I was around your age, maybe a touch older.”

“Were you going through puberty”, he asked?

“Yeah, sure mate, I love that song, but it makes me feel sick” Avoiding the puberty question…

“How could it make you feel sick if you like it?”

“See Dad, you are crazy.”

“How could you love a song and say that it makes you sick at the same time.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

I had aroused an interest that would have him hunting down an answer like a pit bull terrier nipping at your heels.

The song had finished and I vowed to find a quiet moment up in The Shed later in the day when I could crank it up on my iPod.

Humming along to myself I got to thinking this would be a good time to share a story from my younger days…

A good opportunity to reinforce the evils of smoking.

As I drove, he listened…

I’d heard some mates talking about how they had tried smoking, but I was shying away from these discussions as I was too scared to give it a go.

I wanted to, but didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my mates. I mean what if I threw up, or coughed, or whatever? I’d be the laughing stock of class 6E and maybe even risk being dropped from the footy team.

It was about mid-semester when that fateful day arrived, I just didn’t recognise it when I got out of bed that morning and headed to school, after all it was the same as any other day, at least I thought it was.

On the way home I passed Leong’s corner shop.

You’ll know the place, full of lollies, ice-creams, chips, stuff I didn’t usually have any money to spend on, but still I passed by most days.

I was hanging around outside on my bike, not sure what I was actually waiting for as I was still another year or so away from taking an  active interest in the girls that hung out there.

Anyway, I see this bloke pull up in a flash car. Well I thought it was flash anyway, a new Holden Kingswood sedan, and as he gets out he tossed a half-finished cigarette onto the ground.

The next couple of moments were a blur really, certainly impulsive!

And isn’t that the story of my life.

I swooped on that smouldering cigarette, durrie, as the older boys called them, with all the zest of two seagulls fighting over a lone chip, discarded uncaringly on a beach side promenade.

Quickly extinguishing it, I hid it in my pocket and was back on my bike.

Maybe that is where my athletic prowess started, if I can call it that, as I peddled faster and harder than I had ever done before and probably ever since.

I swore the whole world witnessed this event and the police would be on to me before I got home, sirens blaring, handcuffed and dragged before my parents.

Oh my gawd, the risk I was taking of being caught with this solitary piece of contraband.

Luck was seemingly on my side though, I got home unchallenged by the law.

But there was still Mum to navigate past as I headed for the kitchen cupboard that stored the matches.

Would she miss a box?

The mind was racing, but I needn’t have worried.

I should have been in the military as the task was completed with precision. I had the matches and the durrie, there was an air of subterfuge about the whole thing; a tinge of excitement…

I was now feeling like a fugitive running from the law as I headed down to the old sawmill a couple of kilometres from home.

In hindsight, I’m not sure why I didn’t do it the time old-fashioned way and light the bloody thing up behind the shed.

Anyway, I scaled an old sawdust pile and slid down the other side, careful to remain well out of sight.

Fumbling, I took that used durrie, yep the one covered in someone else’s spit and saliva, probably contaminated with all kinds of germs and put it in my mouth.

For crying out loud, this thing had been between the lips of someone I didn’t even know.

But it was far too late to contemplate now as the flame of the match was licking at my fingers like an out-of-control bush fire…

This was supposed to be a pleasant experience, or so they say.

I tried to be sophisticated about it…

Sophisticated?

Hell, who was I kidding?

Here I was covered in sawdust and sucking on a discarded fag…

Despite numerous advances from our next door neighbour, I still wasn’t willing to let her tongue loose in my mouth, mixing all those salvia juices together for fear of catching girl germs.

But here I was with someone’s used fag, durrie, whatever you want to call the damned thing, jammed between my lips…

Okay, so let’s just put it out there, it was gross!

But give me a break, I couldn’t even afford a packet of lollies from Leong’s store, let alone a packet of durries…

I coughed my way through that cigarette.

As I lay back in the sawdust dragging on that cigarette I got to thinking that snogging Debbie Kelly couldn’t possibly be this bad, and now I had ticked this off the “to do list” maybe I could take up her offer…

Just for a comparison!

I wasn’t feeling one way or the other on this smoking thing.

I was indifferent at best!

And about half-way home it hits me, my head started spinning and I felt the whole world was about to end.

I felt sick…

Man, I mean really sick.

To this day I’m sure Mum was wondering how I came to be covered in sawdust.

But she didn’t ask.

Perhaps she thought I was stealing a kiss from Debbie Kelly down at the old sawmill?

Having a good old snog as our tongues danced in a sea of saliva.

If only it had been the case maybe I would have a cheeky smile on my face each time I heard Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs belt out that song.

TomO listened on intently.

I did notice a bit of a wry smile coming out the corner of his mouth.

Perhaps he was weighing up what he would have done, a snog or the cigarette…

You see as I lay back on my bed, my head spinning faster than an out of control merry-go-round, Billy and the Boys were belting out that classic on the radio…

And I felt so sick, so very sick…

But I still love that song!

Baz – The Landy…

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Most People I Know Think that I’m Crazy (The evils of smoking)

There is nothing better than hearing one of your favourite songs played on the radio, even better when it is a long time favourite and one that you hadn’t heard in ages, unearthed to tickle the airwaves once more.

Music has the ability to move your emotions. It can motivate you, it can take you places, it can make you laugh, or even cry, it can sometimes rejoin you with distant memories…

The other day TomO and I were out driving and one such song came on the radio, Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy), by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, a great Aussie rock-band.

Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs
Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs

Initially formed in the 1960s, the band parted ways, but reformed again in 1971. It was during this second coming that I was growing up in Townsville, North Queensland, heading into puberty at the rate of knots and just as this song was released.

Geez, those days were free and easy.  You could head off on your bike with your mates in the morning, but with strict instructions to be back for dinner.

In reality we were usually back by lunchtime.

Food was required on a regular basis with all that testosterone sloshing around!

But I’m digressing from the story, testosterone and girls is for another time, much later…

Anyway, TomO says…

“So Dad, you like this song, hey?

“It’s fitting ‘cause Mum and me think you are just a little bit crazy, that’s for sure.”

I reminded him that he was a chip off the old-block and he might just be a little crazy as well…

“Sure, it is one of my all time favourites” I said, “it takes me back to a time when I was around your age, maybe a touch older.”

“Were you going through puberty”, he asked?

Adding...

“Things are a happening down there, Dad.”

Geez, I wasn’t long out of Sesame Street at his age and I was still struggling with the alphabet…

But moving along…the song now in full swing, I said,

“Yeah, sure mate, I love that song, but it makes me feel sick!”

“How could it make you feel sick if you like it?”

A fair question I thought as I gave myself a mental smack around the chops…

“See, Dad you are crazy.”

“How could you love a song and say that it makes you sick at the same time.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

Realising I had just aroused an interest that would have him hunting down an answer like a pit bull terrier nipping at your heels I now had to share a story that had been holed up inside that (little) brain of mine, never shared with anyone before that moment…

If I was Homer Simpson, I’d be slapping my forehead and saying, Doh!

The song had finished and I vowed to find a quiet moment up in The Shed later in the day when I could crank it back up on my iPod.

Yep, he was nipping away, so I thought this is a good opportunity to reinforce the evils of smoking.

I’m not sure I should be putting this in the adventure category, I’ll let you be the judge, but it was an adventure of sorts at the time.

I’d heard some mates talking about how they had tried smoking, but I was shying away from these discussions as I was too scared to give it a go and besides I wanted to avoid the peer pressure thing.

In reality, I did want to give it a go, but didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my mates, I mean what if I threw up, or coughed, or whatever, I’d be the laughing stock of class 6E and maybe even risk being dropped from the footy team.

It was about mid-semester when that fateful day arrived, I just didn’t recognise it when I got out of bed that morning and headed to school, after all it was the same as any other day, at least I thought it was.

On the way home I passed Leong’s corner shop. You’ll know the place, full of lollies, ice-creams, chips, stuff I didn’t usually have any money to spend on, but still I passed by most days.

I was hanging around outside on my bike, not sure what I was actually waiting for as I was still a couple of years away from taking a more active interest in the girls that hung out there.

And no I wasn’t looking at boys either, just on the off chance you’re wondering!

I see this bloke pull up in a flash car, well I thought it was flash anyway, a new Holden Kingswood sedan.  As he gets out he toss’s a half-finished cigarette onto the ground.

The next couple of moments were a blur really, certainly impulsive, and isn’t that the story of my life.

I swooped on that smouldering cigarette, or durrie, as the older boys called them, with all the zest of two seagulls fighting over a lone chip, discarded uncaringly on a beach side promenade.

Quickly extinguishing it, I hid it in my pocket and was back on my bike.

Maybe that is where my athletic prowess, if I can call it that, started as I peddled faster and harder than I had ever done before, and probably ever since.

I swore the whole world witnessed this event and the police would be on to me before I got home, sirens blaring, handcuffed and dragged before my parents. Oh my gawd, the risk I was taking of being caught with this solitary piece of contraband.

Luck was seemingly on my side, I got home, there was still Mum to navigate past as I headed for the kitchen cupboard that stored the matches.

Would she miss a box?

The mind was racing, but I needn’t have worried. I should have been in the military, the task was completed with precision, I had the matches and the cigarette, there was an air of subterfuge about the whole thing, a tinge of excitement…

By now I was feeling like a fugitive running from the law as I headed down to the old sawmill a couple of kilometres from home. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I didn’t do it the time old-fashioned way and light the bloody thing up behind the shed.

Anyway, I scaled an old sawdust pile and slid down the other side, careful to remain well out of sight.

Fumbling, I took that used cigarette, yep the one covered in someone else’s spit and saliva, probably contaminated with all kinds of germs and put it in my mouth.

For crying out loud, this thing had been between the lips of someone I didn’t know.

But it was far too late to contemplate now as the flame of the match was licking at my fingers like an out-of-control bush fire…

This was supposed to be a pleasant experience, or so they say. I tried to be sophisticated about it…

Sophisticated,

Hell, who was I kidding? I was covered in sawdust, sucking on a discarded fag, strewth what was I thinking…

As things stood I still wasn’t willing to kiss Debbie Kelly, our next door neighbour, despite her numerous advances for fear of catching girl germs. But I had someone’s used fag, durrie, whatever you want to call the damned thing between my lips…

I grew up with the Kelly girls and their father was a dentist, so surely they wouldn’t have too many girl germs swilling around in their saliva.

Okay, so let’s just put it out there…

It was gross, yep, let me say it again, gross, but seemingly he was ‘clean’ as I’m still around to tell the yarn…

But strewth, give me a break, I might have been all of thirteen, thinking I was going on twenty-one or something. I couldn’t even afford a packet of lollies from Leong’s store, let alone a packet of durries.

I coughed my way through that cigarette.

At one stage I was thinking that snogging Debbie Kelly couldn’t possibly be this bad, but as they say, the rest is history.

I got on my bike and headed towards home, I wasn’t feeling one way or the other on this smoking thing, I was indifferent at best, and maybe now I had gotten this out the way I could take Debbie Kelly up on her offer of a snog, just for comparison.

Crikey, about half-way home it hit me, my head started spinning and I felt the whole world was about to end.

I felt sick, man, I mean really sick.

I made it home and headed for the shower, I’m sure Mum was wondering how I came to be covered in sawdust, but she didn’t ask. Perhaps she thought I was stealing a kiss from Debbie Kelly down at the old sawmill?

If only that had been the case, maybe I would have a cheeky smile on my face each time I heard Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs belt out that song.

TomO listened on intently.

I did notice a bit of a wry smile coming out the corner of his mouth, I thought perhaps he was weighing up what he would have done, a snog or the cigarette…

You see as I lay back on my bed, my head spinning faster than an out of control merry-go-round, Billy and the Boys were belting out that classic on the radio, and I felt so sick, so very sick…

But crikey… I still love that song!

I’m a closet Devo (Are we not men?)

Whip it, whip it real good
Whip it, whip it real good

If you love music, wine, and being in the great outdoors then “A Day on the Green” would be just the thing for you.

 Yesterday afternoon, we headed to Bimbadgen Estate, a winery situated in the Hunter Valley, about a 2-hour drive to the north of Sydney for an afternoon and evening with some of the best musicians in the world today.

And apart from a couple of drops of rain, the weather was perfect.

Sunset over Bimbadgen Estate
Sunset over Bimbadgen Estate

 So what about the music, I hear you ask. 

Well, as many of you will know, I’m not a person too concerned about age or time, but this did take me back to days long ago, sitting in front of the telly watching Devo, yes Devo…

Strewth, don’t worry, it is okay if you don’t want to admit to ever knowing them, let alone bopping around the front living room with a funny little hat on your head, or maybe you just weren’t around back then.

But I have to say, it was a lot of fun and everyone was into it.

Remember those little hats
Remember those little hats
Fiona in Devo tee and floppy hat
Fiona in Devo tee and floppy hat

A good friend, Fiona, organised the best tickets for us, and she was there in her Devo tee shirt soaking it all up!

We were treated to a number of bands, and one of our favourites, a great Australian band, The Church, played some of their all-time classics. And if you have never heard Under the Milky Way, do yourself a favour and you-tube it!

The Church
The Church

And the evening culminated in Simple Minds taking the stage.

Now, let me simply say, Janet and I have grown up listening to this band, and we’ve taken every opportunity to see them live over the years, and last night as the sun was setting in the western sky we were once again mesmerized by the brilliance of the band’s music.

The always radiant Janet, and Baz
The always radiant Janet, and Baz
Simple Minds
Simple Minds
Ray and Leah
Ray and Leah

 And the evening, was a change of pace for my partner in all things adventure, and brother-in-law, Ray, but he had me hiking up a mountain Sunday morning, but more on that later…I’m plugging in the iPod to listen to some more of The Church

The Boys
The Boys

Hey, you wouldn’t be dead for quids…

And remember, if all else fails, remain out of control and see what develops!

Most People I Know (Think that I’m Crazy)

There is nothing better than hearing one of your favourite songs played on the radio, even better when it is a long time favourite and one that you hadn’t heard in ages, unearthed to tickle the airwaves once more.

Music has the ability to move your emotions. It can motivate you, it can take you places, it can make you laugh, or even cry, it can sometimes rejoin you with distant memories…

The other day TomO and I were out driving and one such song came on the radio, Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy), by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, a great Aussie rock-band.

 Initially formed in the 1960s, the band parted ways, but reformed again in 1971. It was during this second coming that I was growing up in Townsville, North Queensland, heading into puberty at the rate of knots and just as this song was released.

Geez, those days were free and easy.  You could head off on your bike with your mates in the morning, but with strict instructions to be back for dinner.

In reality we were usually back by lunchtime.

Food was required on a regular basis with all that testosterone sloshing around!

But I’m digressing from the story, testosterone and girls is for another time, much later…

Anyway, TomO says…

“So Dad, you like this song, hey?

“It’s fitting ‘cause Mum and me think you are just a little bit crazy, that’s for sure.”

I reminded him that he was a chip off the old-block and he might just be a little crazy as well…

“Sure, it is one of my all time favourites” I said, “it takes me back to a time when I was around your age, maybe a touch older.”

“Were you going through puberty”, he asked?

(We’re fielding a lot of these questions at the moment…)

TomO tells me he’s starting to get the ‘twinge’ every so often, not that he quite described it that way – but as he put it…

“Things are a happening down there, Dad.”

Geez, I wasn’t long out of Sesame Street at his age and I was still struggling with the alphabet…

But moving along…the song now in full swing, I said,

“Yeah, sure mate, I love that song, but it makes me feel sick!”

“How could it make you feel sick if you like it?”

A fair question I thought as I gave myself a mental smack around the chops…

“See, Dad you are crazy.”

“How could you love a song and say that it makes you sick at the same time.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

Realising I had just aroused an interest that would have him hunting down an answer like a pit bull terrier nipping at your heels I now had to share a story that had been holed up inside that (little) brain of mine, never shared with anyone before that moment…

If I was Homer Simpson, I’d be slapping my forehead and saying, DOH!

The song had finished and I vowed to find a quiet moment up in The Shed later in the day when I could crank it back up on my IPod.

Yep, he was nipping away, so I thought this is a good opportunity to reinforce the evils of smoking.

All due respect to smokers, your choice, but the evidence is out there.

Anyway…

I’m not sure I should be putting this in the adventure category, I’ll let you be the judge, but it was an adventure of sorts at the time.

I’d heard some mates talking about how they had tried smoking, but I was shying away from these discussions as I was too scared to give it a go and besides I wanted to avoid the peer pressure thing.

In reality, I did want to give it a go, but didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my mates, I mean what if I threw up, or coughed, or whatever, I’d be the laughing stock of class 6E and maybe even risk being dropped from the footy team.

It was about mid-semester when that fateful day arrived, I just didn’t recognise it when I got out of bed that morning and headed to school, after all it was the same as any other day, at least I thought it was.

On the way home I passed Leong’s corner shop. You’ll know the place, full of lollies, ice-creams, chips, stuff I didn’t usually have any money to spend on, but still I passed by most days.

I was hanging around outside on my bike, not sure what I was actually waiting for as I was still a couple of years away from taking a more active interest in the girls that hung out there. And no I wasn’t looking at boys either, just on the off chance you’re wondering!

I see this bloke pull up in a flash car, well I thought it was flash anyway, a new Holden Kingswood sedan.  As he gets out he toss’s a half-finished cigarette onto the ground.

The next couple of moments were a blur really, certainly impulsive, and isn’t that the story of my life.

I swooped on that smouldering cigarette, or durrie, as the older boys called them, with all the zest of two seagulls fighting over a lone chip, discarded uncaringly on a beach side promenade.

Quickly extinguishing it, I hid it in my pocket and was back on my bike.

Maybe that is where my athletic prowess, if I can call it that, started as I peddled faster and harder than I had ever done before, and probably ever since.

I swore the whole world witnessed this event and the police would be on to me before I got home, sirens blaring, handcuffed and dragged before my parents. Oh my gawd, the risk I was taking of being caught with this solitary piece of contraband.

Luck was seemingly on my side, I got home, there was still Mum to navigate past as I headed for the kitchen cupboard that stored the matches.

Would she miss a box?

The mind was racing, but I needn’t have worried. I should have been in the military, the task was completed with precision, I had the matches and the cigarette, there was an air of subterfuge about the whole thing, a tinge of excitement…

By now I was feeling like a fugitive running from the law as I headed down to the old sawmill a couple of kilometres from home. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I didn’t do it the time old-fashioned way and light the bloody thing up behind the shed.

Anyway, I scaled an old sawdust pile and slid down the other side, careful to remain well out of sight.

Fumbling, I took that used cigarette, yep the one covered in someone else’s spit and saliva, probably contaminated with all kinds of germs and put it in my mouth.

For crying out loud, this thing had been between the lips of someone I didn’t know.

But it was far too late to contemplate now as the flame of the match was licking at my fingers like an out-of-control bush fire…

This was supposed to be a pleasant experience, or so they say. I tried to be sophisticated about it…

Sophisticated, hell, who was I kidding? I was covered in sawdust, sucking on a discarded fag, strewth what was I thinking…

As things stood I still wasn’t willing to kiss Debbie Kelly, our next door neighbour, despite her numerous advances for fear of catching girl germs. But I had someone’s used fag, durrie, whatever you want to call the damned thing between my lips…

I grew up with the Kelly girls and their father was a dentist, so surely they wouldn’t have too many girl germs swilling around in their saliva.

Okay, so let’s just put it out there…

It was gross, yep, let me say it again, gross, but seemingly he was ‘clean’ as I’m still around to tell the yarn…

But hey, give me a break, I might have been all of thirteen, thinking I was going on twenty-one or something. I couldn’t even afford a packet of lollies from Leong’s store, let alone a packet of durries.

I coughed my way through that cigarette.

At one stage I was thinking that snogging Debbie Kelly couldn’t possibly be this bad, but as they say, the rest is history.

I got on my bike and headed towards home, I wasn’t feeling one way or the other on this smoking thing, I was indifferent at best, and maybe now I had gotten this out the way I could take Debbie Kelly up on her offer of a snog, just for comparison.

Crikey, about half-way home it hit me, my head started spinning and I felt the whole world was about to end.

I felt sick, man, I mean really sick.

I made it home and headed for the shower, I’m sure Mum was wondering how I came to be covered in sawdust, but she didn’t ask. Perhaps she thought I was stealing a kiss from Debbie Kelly down at the old sawmill?

If only that had been the case, maybe I would have a cheeky smile on my face each time I heard Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs belt out that song.

TomO listened on intently. I did notice a bit of a wry smile coming out the corner of his mouth, I thought perhaps he was weighing up what he would have done, a snog or the cigarette…

You see as I lay back on my bed, my head spinning faster than an out of control merry-go-round, Billy and the Boys were belting out that classic on the radio, and I felt so sick, so very sick…

But geez, I still love that song!