"Estoy Nada pero Un Estudiante"

Hoy el cielo es azul
No hay un solo nube
El sol es calor cuando tu puedes lo ver
Pero esta frio cuando no es radiante

Estoy nada pero un estudiante
De Musica, idiomas, amor y vida
Y yo tengo muchos cosas para apprender
yo pratico todos las dias

Mi comida favourita
es cuando yo comer con mi abulita
Juntos nos sentamos en su cocina
Y hablamos sobre todo
Yo sabe que elle es siempre conmigo
Pero yo la extraño mucho.

"I am nothing but a student"
Today the sky is blue
Not a single cloud
The sun is hot when you can see it
But is cold when not shining

I am nothing but a student
Music, language, love and life
And I have many things to learn
I practice every day

My favorite meal is when I eat with my little granny
Together we sat in her kitchen
And we talked about everything
I know that she is always with me
But I still her miss her a lot.

More Newcastle Hating

Well, it's not really hating. More an observation.

When I was a kid growing up here, a local bank produced a series of Pro-Newie TV ads that featured a catchy gang back up type chorus that went "Hey! This is Our Town!" You remember it right? In a very subtle way it ingrained into you a piece of Newcastle cultural brainwashing that Newcastle was a hard done by town that had fought back and was now a hidden secret that we didn't want anyone else to know about. That attitude still exists and if you can escape the mentality of "ya think ya so fucken good don't ya", you will go on to be happy and successful without ever having to justify yourself to some bogan you went to school with.

The other sentiment of the ad is "Hey, this is Our Town!" I was in the bus the other day coming home after work, driving down a crumbling Hunter St and wondering whose town this was because it certainly wasn't mine. Empty buildings litter the streets like corpses and the graffiti is a reminder to all the grown ups that there is still a generation of angry and bored kids here who have been forgotten.

But hey, it's not my town because my generation left years ago. There seems to be void of people between the ages of 22 and 35 in this town and as a result, shit is falling apart. This is the generation of people that actually get things done. We finished school or uni and then took off, both physically and in our careers and we went elsewhere to make changes. What we left behind were the Baby Boomers and their parents who stopped giving a fuck after the 70's and now just want to chill and not to be too challenged by anything. Newcastle City Council is full of these dinosaurs who still hold the balance of power and despite some cool people like Crackers and Nua coming in to disturb the peace they are still in the majority. Marcus is doing some great stuff with Renew Newcastle, TINA has always been a a good event although with a residual flakiness that is the signature of hessians and we all know the beaches are beautiful. But instead of being a vibrant coastal town with major tourism potential, the city is dying and what remains are small pockets of activity in an otherwise empty space.

Newcastle faces the challenge of completely reinventing itself and it's image in order to stay alive and one day flourish.

And me, I need to get the fuck out!

P.S.

If anyone else at my work sends me that youtube link to the stupid fucking americans dancing down the isle at their wedding I am leaving the building.

Weekend Preview

So my little brother is alive. After 10 days of no contact we were starting to get a bit worried about him and then he sent me an email saying he is in fact in a band in Germany and is playing with Madball and Agnostic Front. I said "Pffffft. Did that YEARS ago!" It was actually pretty funny at the time because Agnostic Front back then were about a thousand years old. How old are they now???

Last night I called my dad and my step mum and set them up on Skype so XbobX can call home for free. They haven't got a web cam yet but when they do I am going to get my dad to give me online guitar tuition since he is the best guitarist I know. I showed him my "on loan" guitar which is from the 1920's and he was impressed. It does have a nice sound I have to admit.

The weekends are coming round at a rate of knots. Not that I am complaining but I am going to Sydney this afternoon for what I know will be a massif night with Igs and Rocket on the balcony at the Penthouse and I have only had three sleeps since the last one ended. I am also taking the Beepster out for dinner for his 70th Birthday, going to my sisters engagement party and then to another birthday party where I am sure there will be lots of rack and bad music. That's ok. I shall sip a G and T like a lady while everyone goes b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

Blah blah

Wednesday night chillin at home eating cashews drinking a coopers packing a bag and getting psyched for the weekend listening to tunes having a strum contemplating having ice cream for dinner definate early night awaits missing you you're a sight for sore eyes!

Public Transport

Since I sold my car before I went overseas I have started taking the bus to work every day. I used to have massive Fear of Public Transport that comes with being a car owner. Once you get to cruise around in your own ride, listening to whatever you want, singing as loud as you want, busting out car dance moves, eating while driving and talking on the phone, it’s hard to go back to PT. But I did and it’s a massive eye opener. I would honestly say it’s worse than taking the chicken bus in Central America.

Firstly, in Newcastle, waiting for a bus can be decidedly dodge. Especially after work when it’s dark. There is always one or more of the following:

A drunk old man – generally harmless but has high tendencies towards inappropriateness

A bunch of little punk ass biatches – generally between the ages of 12-18 who wear Adidas trackies and do annoying shit like kick bottles, throw stones, swear loudly etc. Low to medium on the scale of dodge but annoying as hell and have potential to be random and unpredictable or roll you for your electronic devices.

Retards – now, don’t get me wrong. I love people with disabilities and am a qualified teacher of children with special needs. But there is something about Newcastle. You see heaps of retards on the bus. They’re generally cool. I say hello.

Single mothers – as above, I was the kid of a single mother and I know how hard it is to raise a kid on your own. But again, Newcastle has thousands of them. All 18 and lugging a pram on and off buses with no-one offering to help them. And the kids are always super cute which is even more interesting.

Dudes in cars – they cruise past, slow down and throw some kind of foul abuse at you either to do with tits, ass, or something else gender specific and derogatory. Sometimes they even stop and ask if you want a lift. I remember when my cousin was 18 her and her mates were at the Cambridge and after the gig they were all chillin on the footpath tossing up where to go next. A car pulled up, opened the back door, a guy pulled her into the backseat and the next day she was found raped and unconscious in bushland in Charlestown. That freaked the shit out of me cause I have stood outside the Cambridge a million times.

The good things about Public Transport are:

It's good for the environment. Sort of.

You can listen to music and use the time to get psyched for the day ahead

You can thank god that you have a job and don't fit into one of the above categories.

This was a very Un-PC post.

3.30 itis

I am tired and grumpy and sitting at my desk listening to sad songs and eating Vitamin C cause I feel like I am coming down with the flu. Yeah, the Wine Flu. Too many wines beers and "Cheers". It's an occupational hazard of working in the Wine Industry. I am very sensitive to alcohol and I put it down to not drinking until I was 27 or some ridiculous age like that. I can drink a fair bit but I can't handle being hungover and I get very depressed afterwards. I wouldn't say I am depressed now, just flat, tired and uninspired.

There is guy at my work who is building a house at the moment and it's one of those kit home things that you buy out of a catalogue. He spends most of his day ringing up about carpet and paint colours, consulting with the wife and generally being a suburban nightmare. Makes me want to do a Russell Crowe and throw my phone at him.

It's people like him who scare the shit out of me - not that I am worried about ever being like that - but if that's normal I want to be a complete hessian weirdo for the rest of my life. It's only now that I am older that I give my parents massive props for being hippies when we were kids. At the time I hated it and wanted to be nothing but normal but now I love the fact that I was raised really unconventionally, even if it was a bit extreme at times ie. me and my sisters sleeping in sleeping bags on the side of the stage while mum and dad rocked out in the band together.

Today is Iggy's birthday. She is 32. My favourite memory of Igs is when we lived together in Paddo she came downstairs one Sunday morning after a massive night clutching at her chest. She said "Call the ambulance I'm having a heart attack." After a few questions about symptoms however it turned out that she had drunk 8 vodka and red bulls the night before and was having heart palpitations/anxiety attack. It was pretty funny.

And that is the 3.3o Bulletin ya'll.