Tag Archives: memoir

TIME — IN QUAALUDES AND RED WINE

When you are in pain, time has the capacity for slowing to a torturous crawl. Such was the lot of your correspondent this week, as one of the Vinyl Connection bicuspids decided it was sick and tired of meekly sitting between ripping canine and grinding molar and transformed, Jekyll and Hyde-like, into a small white […]

FINGERS LIKE SPIDERS

Most of us can remember those family visits we were forced to endure as a child. The Uncle and Aunty who served the stale biscuits, Dad’s former work colleague and his wife whose own child, fully two years older, totally ignored the visiting juvenile, the Grandparents whose dusty, dim house imprisoned you for the mandatory […]

TOGETHER ALONE

On a Crowded House high after the televised concert last weekend, I was going to write about Together Alone. I thought to tell you of how, buying the album on release in 1993, its darker hues spoke strongly to my melancholic side, deep and rich like a chocolate cake made with 70% Lindt and a […]

CROWDED HOUSE RENEWAL

I joined the Crowded House Fan Club at the age of forty plus. The subscription was motivated—sadly, but not unpredictably—by greed. Frenz of the Enz was an umbrella organisation (if that word can be used for something so quaintly amateur) set up by long-term tour manager cum general factotum Peter Green to meet fans’ insatiable […]

7 STEAMIN’ ALBUM COVERS

When the boy was little we took an afternoon drive around the ring road to Altona, home of Victoria’s Railway museum. To me it seemed, on that Autumn afternoon, a windswept mausoleum, but the youngster enjoyed clambering up, through, and around the old steam engines. Despite their size (big to enormous), it seemed to make sense […]

WINNER TAKES IT ALL

Tomorrow I’m playing a third match in the Watsonia Tennis Club Championships. Lots of members enter multiple events; Open Singles and Doubles, A Grade Men’s, Parent and Child Doubles, Mixed. Given my level of fitness, I decided to enter just one event, especially as the boy was decidedly cool on the idea of playing competition tennis […]

TWISTING THE KNIFE AWAY

“We never do anything with my friends, it’s always yours,” she said. It was true. In fact I had not realised until this moment that Penny had friends. She’d appeared at the educational institution where I worked without any visible attachments and in the months we’d been seeing each other, none had been forthcoming. If that […]