Cafe Bono Blog

Death of Firgal Adams

2011-06-09T15:14:00.000+10:00

RiP Firgal Adams

James Herd, media services manager for McGraw Hill, writes:

'The publishing industry lost one of its most endearing and larger than life characters recently when Firgal Adams passed away suddenly. Firgal enjoyed the most varied of publishing careers that saw him cross the divide from Trade to Education to Tax & Law and ultimately his own online retail business. He was variously, accountant, consultant, finance director, publisher, managing director and company director. He knew and understood the publishing business better than most. As one of those "finance" guys, he bucked the stereotypical image of spreadsheets and reference to the bottom line by first wanting to understand the how and why and what the opportunity on offer was.

'In the mid-80s Firgal worked at Angus & Robertson Publishers as the finance director at a time when the 100-year-old iconic house was at the crossroads. Shortly afterwards in 1989, A&R was merged with Rupert Murdoch's William Collins Publishers (as it was then). These were turbulent times as these two venerable houses were joined together. The next stop he made was at McGraw-Hill where he spent ten happy years, starting off as finance director and moving in due course to the managing director's chair. In 2003, he joined CCH Publishers as acting publishing director before moving internally back to his financial roots. Eventually, Firgal was ready to embark on a new and greater challenge, deciding to set up his own business, Book Margins.

'Firgal was the most patient of people, a mentor to many, who always had the time to listen and explain in his efforts to demystify the secrets of the finance department. He saw things differently to most and encouraged creativity and risk if there was money to be made. A gracious and humble man, he was an inspirational and caring leader who treated everyone equally and with respect. Wherever he went he made his mark and his love for publishing was there for all to see. He leaves behind an army of friends grateful to have known him while his ever-present grin will continue to light up the room he has left behind.
Rest in peace, Firgal--we will all miss you.'

Published: 16/03/2011rip

Changing rooms, jobs, titles and Portfolios in our Parliament

2010-09-21T08:16:00.000+10:00

One thing really puzzles me about the way Incumbent Political parties re-shuffle their Ministers Portfolios, as the Labor Party has just done, for reasons of Promotion,Demotion, Leaders personal favourites, payback for past favouretc etc.

Peter Garrett ( Arts etc) switches to Education, Penny Wong ( Climate Change) switches to Finance, Kate Ellis ( Sport)
switches to Status of Women etc etc etc.
In the NSW State Government, its worse.

I know it is the Leaders preogative, but here's my point.
Are they qualified to suddenly take on a completely new and different Portfolio?
If your degree is in Economics, what the hell is the use of you in Communications?
And if you have a background in Unions, what the hell do you know about the Transport Portfolio?

And how much time and money and staff resources are wasted while they get the hang of it?
Name any Minister from either Party and if they have been in Parliament at least two terms,they seem to have been given at least three or four different Portfolios.

In the private sector, Marketing Managers don't switch to Accounting and Finance, HR Consultants don't suddenly get demoted to Office Manager, Sales Managers don't suddenly get promoted to PR,so why does it happen in Parliament?

All leads to the Public believing that all the work is done by the Public servants and the Ministers just change hats every now and then.

It puzzles hell out of me.

Hungering and hung, waiting for good Government.

2010-08-24T09:42:00.000+10:00

Well we could hang the lot of 'em, but doubt that would achieve much..

The high number of informal votes recorded (5% -Thanks Mark ) and the rise of the Greens, combined with the public fear of returning Queen Joolia to the throne ,or replacing her with a Christian fundamentalist, are all saying the people are not happy.

Wasn't it that most reviled of all Liberal leaders, John Howard who said " The Australian voters always get it right " ?

Right on, Mr H.

They got it right in 2007, they got it right in 2010.

Don't you love the idea of those country Independants pulling the strings in Canberra, and putting rural Australia back on the world map?
After all, the bushie's built our prosperity in the first place didn't they ?? - wheat and sheep.
Okay let the people smugglers in, stick 'em out in the bush with no mobiles and no internet services and pretty soon they'll go out of business, let the migrants in, they are ready to rebuild a country and call it home because their own are destroyed by war, raise their self-esteem and their standing in the community and give them a JOB, not welfare.
Stop TALKING about it, and fix up the Murray Darling, and the Snowy, put a blanket ban on all imported rubbish food from overseas, and rubbish fabrics, and start wearing Merino wooland sleeping in Australian cotton, and eating locally grown food and coffee,that should cut the Health Bill in half.
Let the little Green men in, they'll make sure you recycle your rubbish and clean up the waste, and if they want to marry each other, so what ? its not going to affect you.
Get rid of the baby bonus, and there'll be a lot less abused ,neglected, and murdered babies.
Get rid of " Family Tax A & B " or whatever the hell its called. If you want to have kids, prepare to provide for them first.
And if that means you can't get a divorce this year, think more carefully before you get married again

And somebody send put Barnaby Joyce on a long cattle drive fora year or so.

There. Now that wasn't so hard was it ?
And it didn't take another election,focus groups, polls, or a "citizens assembly ".

2010-04-27T10:13:00.000+10:00

If I have to look at one more politician appearing on television to apologize to his wife and family for screwing around with other women I'll throw up.
Do they think they won't get caught, with the amount of scrutiny on politicians these days? Do they think their partners are not likely to turn into nasty vindictive opportunists and leak the info to the media?
And why do they think that the general Public are happy to hear them apologizing to us and their families for God's sake.
Bloody over it.

Are Aboriginal people Un-Economic ?

2009-07-05T09:38:00.006+10:00

The article in yesterdays Australian written by former Australian of the Year - Galarrwuy Yunupingu
defines Yunupingu as a very different kind of thinker from Noel Pearson.He is deliberate rather than quicksilver, solemn rather than combatitive, his voice is a rare one, has a proud tone,deeply political in its understanding of the Australian State, yet always steered by traditional beliefs.
He has four wives, feeds a wild crocodile by hand from the beach fringeing his outstation home each morning.
His views are aligned with no obvious political or ideological camp,other than the camp of Yolngu tradition.

Here's what he says;
"Aboriginal people in remote areas don't want to live like this, sitting there, getting handouts on our own land, while the land is used by other people, we want the good things of life too.
When I go to the Southern cities, Melbourne and Sydney, they dazzle me with their wealth and prestige, swimming pools, libraries, creches,stadiums,museums,art galleries,gardens and old buildings all done up and restored to great beauty.
It just amazes me.Billions of dollars being spent on internet connections, and not just that, but their speed.
Most outstation people just wish for a phone that works.

Each morning I listen to the radio news and during lunch, I watch the sessions of Parliament on TV. The Parliament is an institution of great power and tradition with respect for law and procedure.
Like a song cycle the parliament can unfold slowly before your eyes.
I like the ceremony, but it is the great debates and the content of ideas on the floor that hold my attention.

The Parliament concerns itself with the lives of the people and it is the future of the people that troubles and inspired the Members.
The debate is always about doing the right thing for the people, and one side says they will perform this task better than the Opposition, seeking to prove to the people that it knows their need.
The patten developing every day in the Parliament is the pattern of economics, not about anything else.
The Parliament in this country is built to look after the wealth of its people.

The question always arises in my mind as to whether my people are included in these great debates? Who speaks for us ? Where is our role? Are we also the ones they are fighting for, or do they speak only for those that have elected them?
I sometimes call out to our ancestral heroes that we should be included in these great debates, and represented in the Parliament.

In reality I know that we are out of this debate,of which the first theme is: ECONOMICS and the second theme:LEADERSHIP.

If we are in this debate,it is as a threat to economic development, or, we are a disappointing participant in this economy.

The reality for Aboriginal peopleis that we are Un-Economic.

It has become clear to me that to live life as we wish on our homelands, we must create economic activity and develop a real economy for ourselves.
So Our clan has established a number of small enterprises, the most important of which is a timber mill near Dhanaya, where a number of Gumatj men have taken up the work,working with Forestry Tasmania,we started to harvest some of the millions of stringybark trees that grow on our land, this timber when properly cut is some of the finest hard wood in the land.
With this timber we have built a dormitory for the workers who now number 18.
A building company has supported us,and local contractors have helped. Hearing of our effort, Rotary sent us support also.

We also have a cattle station nearby where 4 men are engaged in building new yards and fences and bringing our 400 head of cattle under control.
We have used the clan's royalty money to pay these men real wages, and they are working like real men. My sisters tell me they look like real men.
The next key is LEADERSHIP.
The way forward lies only with ourselves.

I wish for my people to cast off the layers of control and domination that we confront every day from Government, bureaucracies,local councils,shires,registrars,magistrates,police, inspectors who set themselves on us every day, smothering us.
The littlest person in the littlest office becomes a dominator and controller of our lives, dictating new methods of control, forgetting the real authorities who are left sitting under a tree, unable to use a phone or a computer.
The world of red tape has come to control us and block our ambitions.

I have observed that white people don't like being told they are not needed.
Yolngu interests come second to the interests of outsiders, and too many outsiders live off us and our special place in the world.
My solution is simple.

The Senior men and women of east Arnhem Land must be given power to lead, this is the power of the Yolngu Parliament, whose members are sworn to the future of the people.
We must be allowed to draw on the lands laid down by our ancestors that have forever balanced, nutured, and guided us.
There is a role for Government in partnership with us, with clear boundaries.
Our words must be listened to.
We want to develop our land, have security in our townships, education for our children ,a job for men and women, a home for their families. We want roads and bridges, schools, hospitals, sporting grounds and libraries as does every other working Australian.

We will seek the power to enforce our authority when it is questioned, and we want to make our own bargains over land, understanding that our people's benefits cannot be gained without being a part of the ecomonic trade of the outside world.
We understand that the bargain must run both ways if we are to achieve the future that we want, which will ensure that we survive and prosper with all our individuality and uniquesness intact."

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The sickening feeling of finding you don't exist

2009-07-05T09:23:00.002+10:00

Losing your own identity is on the increase as reported in yesterday paper, a young teacher had her identity stolen when she lost her Teachers Registration certificate, and her identity was stolen by, of all people, her ex-husbands girlfriend, who went on to take up a post teaching, at a Montessori School in her sister-in-laws name, and continued to do so for some time, before complaints from parents that she didn't know the first thing about teaching,started to be reported to the school, but the school did not believe them,and for many months continued to back the fake Teacher!!

Only when the real teacher went to police was it discovered that her idenity had been stolen, and the fake was convicted of deception and given a 3 month suspended jail term.
A great deterrent?
The fastest growing area of identity fraud is vis websites such as face-book.
74% of social networking users divulge personal information such as email addresses names and birthdays.

On Irony and Justice

2009-06-16T11:05:00.003+10:00

On Friday last the Organ recital at the Opera House was postponed, because the air inside was too cold and dry for the instrument to be played 'tunefully.'

On Australia Day last, an Aboriginal Elder was slowly boiled to death in the back of a van where the inside temperature was 56 degrees.
He had no water, food,toilet or air conditioning,and incurred third degree burns from the heat of the metal floor, before he died a slow and agonizing death whilst being transported the 400k's to Kalgoorlie.
The van was driven by two security guards, who had the air-conditioning turned on in the front of the van.
After the man's death,The CEO of the Company who supplied the van to the WA Dept of Corrective Services,and who had been repeatedely warned that the vans were not suitable to transport humans in, knelt in the grass and said he was sorry to the Aboriginal man's family.
The Minister for Corrective Services cried on TV, and said she had been aware of the problem for some time, but nobody in the Cabinet Room seemed interested in fixing it.

The grieving family of the dead Aboriginal man have asked for Justice.

Justice for this man's family, would be the Minister for Corrective Services, and the CEO of the Company employed by the WA Government to provide the vans,be placed in the back of the same van, and driven from Laverton to Kalgoorlie in forty degree heat with no water,food or breaks for toileting, and no means of communicating with the guards in the front of the van.

If by chance they survive the trip,the Minister would then be deemed fit to serve in Government, representing the majority of Australians, and the Owner of the van Company,would be fit to tender for transportation of prisoners.
If they don't survive, the family of the dead Aboriginal man could then kneel in the grass, and say sorry to their families, for their loss.

Injustice would be for either of them to remain in their present positions,continuing to collect fat pay packets from the WA government whilst carrying out their respective duties at the tax payers expense, in air-conditioned comfort, all for the price of an apology.

There have not been many times in my Life that I have felt blind rage, but this story did it for me.

Until this country gets decent people in Government, and gets our Human Rights issues in order, we are nothing.

Robyn Ritchie

Karl Marx - 1867

2009-02-04T13:26:00.000+11:00

"Owners of capital will stimulate the working class to buy more and more expensive goods, houses and technology, pushing them to take more and more expensive credits, until debt becomes unbearable.
The unpaid debt will lead to the bankruptcy of banks, which will have to be nationalized, and the State will have to take the road which will eventually lead to Communism. "

Karl Marx, 1867.

Dear Mr President

2009-01-13T19:41:00.001+11:00

Dear Barack,
Every room I have ever been in with you was a much easier room to be in because of your presence.
It’s rare to meet a person like you, where intellect and intuition make such a perfect rhyme.
Your intuition tells you that the well-being of the American people, spiritually as well as physically, is connected with America’s role in the world.
I know you know that the prosperity of your fellow Americans, though hard fought, is less fulfilling knowing there is so much more that can be done to alleviate poverty and suffering in the developing world.
You know that less than 1 percent of government income as a contribution from the world’s richest economy to the world’s poorest is not a fair tithe — even in times like these — which is why you have promised to double foreign assistance. As with our own personal sojourn, so it is with country and community -– we discover who we are in service to others.

I know your intellect — fashioned in the halls of Harvard and on the floor of the United States Senate — has weighed up the evidence on how effective American tax dollars are, when converted into smart, targeted, focused aid. Putting children into school where they can think freely of freedom. Giving farmers on the parched land seed varieties that double the size of their crop yields. Giving mothers 20 cent immunizations to protect their newborns from the deadly viruses that they pass on through childbirth. I know your intellect has taken in the data and seen the analysis on the transformative power of effective aid in places where the United States flag is currently not smiled at.
I know you know how much cheaper it is to make friends of potential enemies than to defend yourself at a later date. I know you know all this stuff.
My prayer for you is that your instinct and intellect stay in harmony in the difficult months and triumphant years ahead.

Love from Bono.

Bono is lead singer of U2 and co-founder of The ONE Campaign.

Happy New Year

2008-12-29T13:39:00.002+11:00

As we are nearing the end of 2008, I want to wish you all you bloggers a Happy new Year, and add my thanks to those who sent me all those emails during the past year........

My thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat shit in the glue on envelopes, because I now have to use a wet rag with every envelope that needs sealing....

I no longer have any savings, because I gave it to a sick girl who is about to die of Aids in Mozambique....

I no longer have any money at all in fact, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates at Microsoft is sending me for participating in their special e-mail program....

... And the senior bank clerk in Nigeria, who wants to split $7 million with me for pretending to be a long lost relative of a customer who died intestate......

I no longer worry about my soul remaining intact, because I have 3,214 angels looking out for me...

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants, even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day....

Thanks to your emails, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward these e-mails to seventeen of my friends, and make a wish within three minutes....

Because of your concern, I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it can remove urine stains from a toilet seat.....

I no longer can buy petrol without taking a friend along to stay in the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat, when I'm filling up......

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone might drug me with a perfume sample and rob me.....

I no longer answer the phone because someone will steal my number, and then I will get phone bill's from Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore and Uzbekistan..... .

Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine, because a red back spider may lurk under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my bum......

And thanks to your emailed advice, I won't ever pick up the $50 note someonedropped in the car park, because it was placed there by a sex molester, waiting behind my car.....

If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144 people in the next 10 minutes, a large dove with diarrhoea will shit on your head, and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump.

I know this will occur because it happened to a friend of my next door neighbour's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's.

By the way....a South American scientist after a lengthy study has discovered that people with low IQ, who have infrequent sexual activity, always read their e-mails with their hand on the mouse.

( Don't bother taking it off now, it's too late. )

Happy New Year!!

Small business being slowly squeezed out..

2008-09-02T09:24:00.003+10:00

If Four Corners investigation is right, the days of small businesses such as cafes, liquor shops and the rest are clearly numbered.

If a manufacturer of ice-cream can buy his milk more cheaply from a Coles or Woolies supermarket, than he can from a milk wholesaler, what hope for the guys at the Farmers gate ??

...or the small grog shop trying to compete with Dan Murphyy's ( owned by Woolies ) who pays 3 - 4 dollars more for his wholesale liquor, than Dan Murphy's sell it to their customers for for ?

Yes, great for the consumers, for now, but once the little guys are squeezed out, the big retailers will put their prices way up, don't ever doubt it.

The Pope

2008-07-16T19:42:00.002+10:00

Why is everyone chucking a wobbly because the Pope is in town ?

I like him.
Nice red shoes.

Stop bitching, and enjoy it.
Sydney could do with being blessed.

Might neutralize some of the angst you encounter in the streets everyday.

Canberra is dry-as-a-bone

2008-07-08T16:48:00.002+10:00

Visiting freezing Canberra last week, I was stunned by the effect of the drought there.

Canberra has always been beautiful in Autumn and Winter, but this time the trees don't look like they've lost their leaves, they just look dead, in fact the whole city looks parched and dying, except for the gardens around Parliament House, of course.

Here in Sydney where it rains often, and where we can now wash our cars with a hose again, we forget that drought still rages in other parts of Australia.
Talking to a farmer who farms just outside Canberra, he said he, and others like him, now owe hundreds of thousands of dollars to local feed stores.
They also owe the Banks.

And still no real rain in sight.

Aussie Carers

2008-05-13T07:54:00.002+10:00

For anyone who watched Four Corners on the ABC last night, on their segment on Carers,it probably left a lasting impression on you, as it did me.

I was interested in the comment made by one carer ,who has looked after her husband for the past six years, when 18 months after they married he was paralysed.

She said that being a "carer "had connotations. That people looked down on you, dismissed your work as not important .
Sometime ago I remarked to a friend that I might apply for a job as a " respite carer "

She looked at me aghast, and said "surely you are qualified to do something better than that ? "

Interesting attitude isn't it, that these amazing, brave, resilient, carers who battle on in their homes alone, sometimes around the clock, caring for their children ,partners and parents who are immobilized because the only other option is an aged Nursing Home, are looked down on ?
Not given credibility, recognition or support?

Most of them have no training, and receive none. Many of them get into debt because they can't work, or receive income support from Govts.

At the Summit, they asked for their carers allowance to be doubled, and to get superannuation, and reminded the Govt. of the fact that they save Govts hundreds of thousands of dollars whilst caring for their loved ones at home.

And they need somewhere for them to get respite once in awhile.

Kevin Rudd seems sympathetic to their plight.
I will be watching the Budget tonight, with interest.

In a country as rich as ours, time for the helpers to get some help.

Now I'm a Senior

2008-03-26T10:26:00.002+11:00

Today, a little card arrived in the mail, accompanied by a letter with a big photo of Morris Iemma on it .

My Seniors card.

Apparently you get one when you turn 60, and only work part-time.

On the front it says:

" The holder of this card is a Senior . Please treat them with courtesy and respect ".

So I scanned it and emailed it off to a couple of people I know, who needed to be reminded of that.

A Seniors card entitles you to discounts on stuff, like Hearing Aids, which is titled :

Aids for the Rock Generation .
" Baby Boomers are likely candidates for noise-induced hearing loss, particularly the kind that results from continuous loud noise over an extended period of time. Not surprising, given that this generation were the first to be subjected to 115-decibel Rock Concerts !"
Yeah.

They didn't mention husbands that shouted at you a lot, but its still really, really clever marketing.

The Tartan Terror still reigns

2008-02-27T09:27:00.002+11:00

Well, the 63 year proved once and for all last night, that age might be a hurdle at times, but it is not a barrier.

He never left the stage for two and a half hours of singing ,dancing, yelling, chatting and playing soccer with the audience.
As he said, our tickets were expensive, so we better enjoy it!

And we did.

Rod Stewart is a true entertainer and performer ... unlike many of today's so-called celebrities.
Being a celebrity is not entertaining. Don't get me started.

Cafe Bono is closed

2008-02-20T19:38:00.001+11:00

-----
For any of our Cafe Bono customers who may still be are under the impression that Cafe Bono has been closed since Xmas for renovations, and has just re-opened again this week:

The Cafe trading as Cafe Bono for the past six and a half years, closed on 31st December, 2007

The new cafe which opened this week at 451 Miller, Street Cammeray, named Cafe 451, is not owned by me, and has no association with me whatsoever.

Retail Tenancy

2008-02-20T07:59:00.002+11:00

There are many small business owners in NSW today, who in spite of the fact they have been good tenants, and have spent years building up good will in their businesses, are finding that they cannot secure a lease from Landlords who appear to have found a loophole.

According to the dept of Fair Trading, In the past, retailers purchased their businesses, usually mortgaging their houses to do it, worked to build it up, and re-sold for capital gain.

Now, some Landlords are waiting until their existing tenants lease expires, refuses to grant a new lease, then gets a new tenant in, who often renovates and improves their property,( with the money they saved in not having to purchase the business,)

The Landlord now has a renovated property, and a new tenant with instant cash flow, so in some cases, they then double the rent.
Both the new tenant, and the Landlord then capitalize on all the good will built up by the previous tenant.

Alternatively the Landlord grants a new Lease to the existing tenant, then doubles or triples the rent, based on the value of the good will built up by their tenant.

No wonder small business is disappearing.

There are good Landlords out there ,who look after their tenants, and are not obstructive to their trade, or their tenants desire to recoup their initial investment, but they seem to be in the minority.

Investment in Commercial property is necessary for the economy.

But the present mandatory Five year lease is totally inadequate for any small business owner , as it doesn't allow for enough time to build it up, and re-sell it.

I believe it should be altered to a mandatory five year by five year term.
There are plenty of avenues provided by the Retail Leases Act for Landlords to get rid of bad tenants.
But apart from a hearing at the Tribunal, or expensive legal fees,there are no avenues open for tenants who find themselves in the grasp of an unscrupulous Landlords, who can expediate their trip down the path to Bankruptcy.

A change in legislation is needed, addressing the concerns arising from the difficulties small business face in entering into Commercial Leases over which they feel they have little, or no control.

The Department of Fair Trading are already aware of this,and are holding an inquiry into it.

They have set up a Productivity Commission, where you can make a submission: at '
www.pc.gov.au

What it means to be an Australian in 2008

2008-01-30T13:51:00.000+11:00

Camden District Reporter Column for Australia Day

We know less about what it means to be Australian today, than at anytime in our history. This is due to the impact of unprecedented prosperity, unlimited access to anything and anyone via the internet, and an education system locked into dogma of the ‘60s.

Instead of saluting our past nation builders, our educational elite seeks to denigrate them .

What it means to be Australian today can depend very much on the lottery of your birth.

If you were born into a family of affluent baby boomers, it is highly likely you are living in the fast lane and have access to most things you want – now!
You are part of the Y generation.
You will never have experienced recession or adversity, and you will expect your future to be as easy as your past.

Y is the most educated, confident, individualistic, and discerning generation yet, in all that they choose to do and why. Some will inevitably squander the opportunities they have, but most will build on the successes of their baby boomer parents.
Our corporate, Community and Political leaders of the future, will come from the Y generation.

Being born in Rural Australia is a mixed blessing. You will miss out on the trappings of life in the fast lane ,but will be rewarded with the practical camaraderie of family, friends and community. You will confront and conquer adversity as it arises ,and be a better person for it. You will be the one the cameras focus on, when they want to capture the 'spirit of Australia.'

If you were born into a dysfunctional family, in a low income area, you risk a life of abuse. You could end up in a suitcase in a dam, or starved to death in a room of squalor ,as your welfare dependent parents sit stoned, in the kitchen.

But the lottery of life deals its crudest hand to those born in remote Aboriginal areas.

Traditional leaders of these communities have been stripped of their reason for being, and most will live their lives in an alcoholic haze without any concern for the physical and social damage they will inevitably wreak within their communities.

Being Australian today is not about celebrating our luck in the lottery of life.
It is about reflecting on how we can help break the cycle of dependence in disadvantaged and dysfunctional communities.
There is no greater role model in this area than Camden’s Australia Day Ambassador, Father Chris Riley. We are honoured to have him, and we salute him.

The Spirit of the Kimberley...

2008-01-30T13:21:00.000+11:00

This is a Spiritual and emotional journey, powerful in its meaning ..

The journey was developed by Mike Beckingham, who had to come to terms his share of adversity, when he lost his wife to cancer, and whilst supporting her during her battle, one of his teenage daughters was also diagnosed with cancer.

Mike had been appointed to head up the Australian Rural Leadership Program, which he developed into a world class program for rural leaders.An important part of the program was journey into the Kimberley's ,where he formed a close association with Aboriginal Elders and leaders.During his journeys into the Dreamtime ,he formed an association with an Aboriginal couple, Colin and Maria Morgan, who run Wundargoodie Aboriginal Tours.

Together they have developed The Kimberley Spirit; an experience for people with an interest in our indigenous history and culture.

So if the spirit of adventure still flickers in your soul , contact Mike by email : :jambiyindi@bigpond.com or phone him on : 0417 250 944....

and sign up for an unique experience!

Aboriginal people speak of every meaningful activity, event and life process, being connected with the earth

Only in states of raised consciousness can we be aware of this Dreaming.Who are we? Where have we come from? Where are we going?

...."They say we have been here for 60,000 years, but it is much longer. We have been here since the time, before time began. We have come directly out of the Dreamtime of the Creative Ancestors. We have lived and kept the Earth as it was on the First Day. ".....Tribal Elder.

ESSENTIAL INFORMATION:

The trip starts in Kununurra ,and heads west, stopping at beautiful places along the Gibb River Road as far as the Kalumbaru turn off. It then goes north to the King Edward River ,and the amazing Mitchell Plateau where you will spend 3 or 4 days, swim in beautiful unspoilt gorges, and sleep out under a billion stars.You will sit around a campfire at night and listen to dreamtime stories.While there is a plan, the itinerary is not rigidly fixed.

Arrange your own flights to Kununurra . Air North flies from Darwin or Broome to Kununurra - http://www.airnorth.com.au/

Wundargoodie will provide the food, and will transport you in a comfortable, air-conditioned, off road vehicle. You will sleep in swags and mozzie domes under the brilliant Kimberley stars .The weather will be hot by day (30s) and may be cold at night.Daily travel distances will be kept short and there will be opportunities to spend time alone and explore on foot - if you wish.

The cost is $2,950 ex- Kununurra - a non-refundable deposit of $650 is required.For

Bookings :Mike Beckingham : jambiyindi@bigpond.com

Postcard from Fiji

2008-01-11T12:53:00.002+11:00

This month Natasha went home to Fiji, for a couple of weeks holiday, after nine years working in Hospitality.
Tash was born in Sydney, but her Father is a Fijian National, born on the island of Monteriki, way down west of Suva in a village called Sevuna, near to Levuka, the old original capital of Fiji.

So Tash has an big extended family ,all over Fiji, and has been to visit them many times in the past 20 years, and she is well-versed in Fijian culture, tradition and family values.

Some hilarious stories have started to emerge,of her experiences staying in the village of Cuvu, near to the Fijian resort in the province of Nadroga.

At the village, the rent-a-van which they needed to travel through Fiji was being driven around the roads of the village, full of kids and probably chooks too, by a character called 'Too Much ".

Now I first encountered Too Much in 1997 when Tash and I were staying in her Dad's house in Lautoka.
At that time Too Much was about six years old, and never stopped rattling away at me in Fijian all day long, followed me everywhere.

One morning I got up with a Kava hang-over, and there he was outside in the hallway, blasting away at me.
I shouted "Too Much !! You're too bloody much !! "
The name stuck, from then on, he was called Too Much.

When we went over to Mana Island for a couple of days, he looked sad at being left behind.
Next morning he appeared in the doorway of our bure on the Island, grinning at me. I said "Too Much ! what are you doing here? "
He hung his head, and said one word only,softly, in English "Stowaway "

He did. Stowed away on the boat at Lautoka and took a trip to Mana island.
Six years old.
Now he's 17 years old, still called Too Much, and right now he's happily driving everyone around the village in a rent-a-car.

At Christmas Tash got an expensive pair of anti-glare sunglasses to take with her to Fiji.
At the village,her Uncle Seru admired them and tried them on, Everyone said they suited Uncle Seru, looked good on him. Bye Bye new sunglasses.

As Tash knows well, in Fiji there's no LEND, there's only GIVE !!

In 1979 I lived in the village of Sevuna, on Monteriki Island.
Somewhere in that village ,there is a woman who would be close to 60 years old now, and I often wonder if she's still wearing an eighteen carat, nine pointer diamond ring,valued at $5000AUD,which she admired, and which I let her try on.

I never liked it anyway.

Fiji. The way the World should be.

Cafe Bono is closing.....

2007-12-29T18:25:00.000+11:00

My dearest Robyn,

So, today's the big day - the day Cafe Bono closes forever!

..exciting, depressing, fearful, anticipatory, relieving ........ & so much more!

Thank you enormously for all your fabulous emails - you (& they) have kept my spirits up over the last few weeks.

I hope your last few weeks at Cafe Bono have filled you with pride & satisfaction, and, mostly, memories of the great people we get to meet on our journey...

Your last newsletter was a truly delightful piece - your thanks & comments were beautifully expressed.

Your book should be a tremendous success with your talent.

But it is also your honest & generous heart that reads through every line.

I can only wish you a most magnificent time ahead.

May all the birds of good fortune, well-being, positive thoughts & love fly your way.

Diane Scarr

www.bistroparis.com.au

One last time...

2007-12-27T18:38:00.000+11:00

If you really want us to dance for you one last time, click on this link.

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1710317809

On the great G.M. debate...

2007-12-01T17:45:00.000+11:00

Don't agree with it. We have grown some small one hectare blocks of non gmo mustard-canola crops for a specialist group from Wagga Wagga.
Seeing how far around our farm that seed went was ridiculous, it just grew every where; there is no way that you could contain a crop of gmo modified canola from contaminating non gmo crops.
Beside we don't know how all these modified things are going to affect our genetic make up in 10-15-30 years time.

Mandy Richardson
Orbost
Victoria

Postcard from The Kokoda Track

2007-11-28T19:18:00.001+11:00

Part-time writer, sailor, trekker and Cammeray Mum, Susie Ashton-Davies recently returned from the wilds of trekking the Kokoda Track.

Here's her story:

First let me say The Kokoda Track was an awesome experience, in the full sense of the word. It was an adventure in as much about its history and the wilderness as it was a personal journey.It was tough, very tough, and rough, steep and at times treacherous... I've never encountered so much mud and sweat.

Each morning my trekking buddy, Merri Mack, and I would be on the track at 7am and then keep going with a couple of breaks until about 5pm... long days ever climbing and descending.

But it was very achieveable and despite the challenges I never felt any regrets or reason why it should defeat me... and 10 days is a long time to be away in the wilds of that reckless tangle of relentless jungle.

In essence, the Inca Trail I hiked in South America in 2005 was a walk in the park !

The weather is rarely on your side in PNG. It's terminally hot and humid and so it was on the Track.

It rained the moment we ventured out of the Kokoda airport ...it poured... this set the scene for pretty much being constantly wet for the duration... except in the evenings when I managed to towel off in my tent and squeeze into dry clothes. Bliss!

Then, each morning we'd drag ourselves into damp and increasingly more filthy clothes and more often than not wet socks and boots. About every three days I'd celebrate with dry socks which would inevitably be wet within a few hours as we crossed creeks.

Surprisingly, despite the hardships, I was deliriously content ... the scenery was stunning, the company was vibrant, and there was always something to marvel at. My 26 trekking companions made a great team and despite the disparate ages (22-62) and backgrounds everyone found a common core.

There were of course many memorable moments. ...such as shooing hungry cows from our washing and boots at 3am , ...numerous incidents of slipping and sliding and arse- skidding down muddy tracks at great knots (usually to the cheers of onlookers).

Fresh bush showers in the villages ...greetings of little illuminated village childrens' faces ..and of course everything that comes with being only one of five women in the company of 25 blokes on a camping trip !

Much of the credit goes to our Trek Leaders Chad Sherron and Peter Davis from

Adventure Kokoda who made it their mission to enrich our lives with the history and culture of Kokoda ,and imbued us with a sense team spirit and the lore of the Kokoda Spirit: mateship sacrifice, courage and endurance.

Even if we faltered, as the misery metres were ticking and the grizzle sticks were out, they kept us motivated.

Of course there can never be enough praise for the kindness and humility of our personal porters. These are local PNG guys who regarded our safety as a matter of honour. They lugged our packs and were always there to lend a hand guiding us safely across the mountains and over raging torrents.

Those human handrails continue to honour the legacy of the Fuzzy Wuzzy angels who cared for our soldiers in 1942.

Then there were all those porters who set up our campsites, prepared meals ,made sure there was always a hot cup of tea and faithfully carted everything.

The insight into the hardships of the WW2 Kokoda Campaign, about which I learned a lot, have still to find a place in my soul. It is difficult to believe those untrained soldiers were able to survive for so long with so little ... it is truly a testimony to the human spirit which should be celebrated.
In comparison to those ragged bloody heroes I was travelling in 5 star comfort!

So I arrived 150km later at Owers Corner unscathed and stronger in spirit.

It seems very strange being back in the big bad city, and all too often I find myself pining for that jungle and the commaradie of the trekking.

Susie Ashton-Davies.

Cammeray NSW

28.11.2007

On Dementia

2007-11-28T18:56:00.001+11:00

-----Today during a very busý lunch-time in the cafe,which was packed with customers..all in a hurry.. a woman approached me.. about 40..a very pleasant face ..holding a long-stemmed yellow rose.
She was not a regular customer, and she wasn't familiar to me..I said..
"Can I help you ?
"She smiled and said :"You already did ......
My Father has died and his funeral was yesterday , he had Alcheimers Disease.

This rose is for you, its from his coffin. "

I didn't say anything, and she went on.....
"Because you kept him independant for two years. "

Afterwards, I remembered her Father.
It was about five years ago, that he first started coming in.

He always dressed in a suit, obviously a Professional, but impatient, abrasive and difficult to serve.
He would slam him money down on the counter top, and storm out, without waiting for the change.The staff were frightened of him, thought he was violent.
Slowly I made friends with him, and even more slowly got him to talk.

One day I asked him what he did for a living. He barked back "I'm an Engineer, what do you think I am ? "and I replied .. "A very clever man, with a good brain, that's what I think you are "

First time I'd seen him smile.
After awhile the suit disappeared.

He started coming in three times at day, sometimes at 6.30 am in the morning, looking dishevelled, and he was always hungry.

I would stop whatever I was doing, and hand him the food, and he would start eating it at the counter.
Sometimes he would leave without paying.
But he would always be back at lunch-time.
Once he left three hundred dollars on the counter, glared at me, and left.
Next day I handed him an envelope, with his change in it, and he just looked confused.

I started to wonder what he did for food on Sundays when we were closed, so when he came in late on Saturday afternoons ,I gave him extra food for the next day.

Monday morning at 6.30 a.m. he would be at the front door waiting to be let in.
He always made eye contact with me, and I could see recognition there, but he spoke less and less, his walking became difficult, he was turning up in his pyjamas, and he got so thin, his bones stuck out.
After a couple of years a lady turned up one day, and asked about him, said she was his ex-wife.

He was assessed, and put into Care in Northbridge ,where he died sometime later

He told his daughter that I was his friend, and I had been feeding him.

And so..the yellow rose..

Because we are all going to need some help one day, aren't we?

KEATING !

2007-11-11T14:19:00.000+11:00

Last night we watched enthralled..the magical musical on the tyke from Bankstown, who became a classical music lover, collector of antique clocks, wearer of Zegna suits, famous for his insults; and who as a school boy, liked jumping off ferries and swimming ashore, who left school at 15, joined the labor Party as soon as he was eligible, was mentored by Jack Lang, entered Parliament in 1969 aged 25, and became Prime Minister in 1991, then went on to win " the sweetest victory of all "

Of all the incredible actors, dancers and musicians in the theatre, it would be hard to single out the best.

Brilliant and multi-talented Mike McLeish as Paul Keating, was amazing, right down to the double-breasted suit, and the narrowed eyes, when he sang "I am a the Man, yes I am " and about his time in office at "The Arse End of the World "", his 1992 Redfern address, and his tribute to Eddie Mabo, the applause was deafening, we thought nothing could top that, until actor Eddie Perfect danced on stage as Alexander Downer in a bathing suit and fish net stockings.. and nearly caused a riot..

Dr Hewson demanded Keating call the election, a whole song devoted to Keating's response:" I want to do you slowly! "

Gareth sang a mournful lament to Chery "Chery I'm in peril " and she replied : "Gareth you are my Foreign Affair "

When you thought it couldn't get any funnier, actor, dancer and singer Terry Serio who's been around a long time,burst on stage as The Silver Bodgie personified, reading the Financial Times with the TAB form inside.

But his impersonation of John Howard on his morning walk.. "I'm a bloke.. just a bloke " come aboard the Mate ship " was even funnier

The show began in the Old Council Chambers of Trades Hall during the 2005 Melbourne International Comedy festival, and has since played to over 150,000 people in every State of Australia. In 2008 it will go on the road again.

The story has absolutely no dialogue, it is told purely through song, and the songs connect,because of their clarity of a time when politics was a hell of a lot livelier!

Paul Keating talked about the country' knowing itself better' and of 'making peace with the Aborigines' 'to get the place right '

He said ; 'We are the entrepreneurs of political life, and are the people who dream the big dreams. There are no bigger dreamers than in our office, a mixture of econocrats and bleeding hearts and together we make a powerful combination.If we win I reckon we'll do more things here than any other western govt. will do in the next three years.'

One of the things the Keating Govt did, was contribute to the Arts.
He said people needed to have imagination.

Love him or hate him , he was an original,like the musical named for him.

Small Business, and getting Smaller

2007-11-08T09:23:00.000+11:00

Well if Clover Moore can stand up to the AHA, and the State Labor Govt, who are funded by them, and start the process of legislating de-regulation of the present Liquor Licensing Laws, when is someone going to take a long hard look at the archaic Retail Leases Act which governs leases for small business in this State?

At present, we have a two year with a three year option in place for small business.
after that you go onto a monthly Lease, usually with a rent increase, which lawfully should be CPI indexed, but never is.

Show me a small business, any small business, clothing, cafe, fruit shop, liquor shop,music shop: that can start a business, and get it into profit within two years?

That usually takes at least five years, if you work hard and go without wages,whilst you battle GST tax, payroll tax, wage increases, high rents,and try and stay sane and keep a smile on your face for customers who are increasingly becoming aggressive rude and demanding, mostly because they are experiencing the same frustrations as you are, on a daily basis.

So you get it into profit after two years, and get it ready to sell, only to find that there are no buyers for a small busisines with only a three year option left.

Buyers want at least a three year lease, with a six year option, and rightly so.

Small Business is constantly being hailed as "the engine room of the economy "by politicians on both sides.
Bloody right we are.
We pay the bread and butter taxes, year in and year out, and don't governments depend on that.

The idea is, like residential property, you expect a Capital gain at the end of the hard slog, when you sell your business, because you sure as hell don't make a fortune in small business, whilst you are operating it.

In this city, like New York, if you stand still for five minutes, you get renovated or worse, re-developed.

Sydney is only two hundred years old. Why has everything got to be re-developed?
Most buildings that house retail businesses are around 80 years old. Why do they have to be torn down and turned into disgusting parodies of every other building in the city.
How about we start building in Sandstone like the old days, so they stay up forever, like they do in suburbs like Mcmahons Point ?

Why aren't the Landlords forced to do repairs, fix them up and retain their character,instead of taking the cash out year after year, letting their buildings fall down, with tenants trapped on short leases, paying their mortgages, whilst they wait for THE BIG OFFER ?

Why does the Retail Leases Act not allow for nine or ten year leases for small businesses?

Because everyone I know loves their small businesses in their suburbs, and don't want to lose them to a huge bloody mall, where you have to drive around in the dark underground, find a park, remember where the hell you parked, get in a lift, find the right floor, then enter a crowded complex packed with people, where you have to ask directions to find a Directory to find which floor the supermarket is on,

JUST SO YOU CAN BUY A CARTON OF BLOODY MILK FOR GOD'S SAKE !!!???

Corkage,Cakeage and Crummage

2007-10-10T17:31:00.000+10:00

Last night at dinner, the subject of corkage was discussed at length.
Can range from $8 to up to $70 at ( Tony Bilson's Place.)

The we discussed the subject of Cake-age..you know the charge you get at some restaurants when you bring the Birthday Cake, but they charge you for slicing and serving it.

When can I start to charge CRUMMAGE in the cafe ? To the parents of kids who leave a God-Almighty mess all over the chairs, the tables, and the floor??
$2 per head $5 per head ??

A BIG Birthday

2007-10-05T18:29:00.000+10:00

My 60th Birthday party was a bit like that ad for Beer..it was BLOODY BIG!!!

There was the cards, flowers, gifts, emails, phone calls, drinks, bottles of wine and champers, Birthday cake, kind words, tributes,Robyn stories, drinks on the night, drinks at the dinner, more drinks at the recovery lunch on Sunday.

Now for all those people to be there,trillions of drifting atoms had somehow to assemble in an intricate and curiously obliging manner to create them in the first place,an arrangement so specialized that it has never been tried before, and will only exist this once.

For many years to come these tiny particles will uncomplainingly engage in all the billions of deft co-operative efforts necessary to keep you intact, and let you experience the supremely agreeable but generally under-appreciated state known as your existence.

But atoms are fickle, and their time of devotion is fleeting.
Even a long human life adds up to only 650,000 hours.
And when that modest milestone flashes into view at some point, for reasons unknown your atoms will close you down, then silently dissemble and go off to others things.

....and that's it for you and me, baby.

So before that happens, remember to tell your families your stories, so they can share them with others,and pass them on down, before they get lost.
Remember too, to celebrate your own milestones, such as reaching 60, or whatever is important to you, and don't wait for other people to do it at your funeral, or you'll miss all the good stuff.

Two Thirds of the Way...

2007-09-26T18:15:00.000+10:00

Yesterday I turned 60.
...everyone keeps asking "How does it feel to be 60 ? "..because we all know that 60 is the new 50.
I don't know about that,I haven't got as much energy as I had at 50. Can't stay up and drink all night, and anyway, how I feel at 60, is not going to be the same as how others feel at 60, you know, depending on fitness, fags and other contributing factors such as stress, debt, number of radical kids you had,number of parking fines and divorces accumulated in your lifetime, ( I always lump the two in the same group, you weren't expecting it, cost you money, and left you feeling shitty for ages afterwards ) that sort of thing.

I resent the fact that I don't have more money, but then no-one has enough money do they? Not even Bill Gates, who just keeps on trying to make more.

Anyway I've made a note in my Journal of how I'm feeling today, having reached 60.

So when I turn 70, and everyone asks me how it feels to be 70, I can assume that 70 is the new 60, and then look up how I felt when I was 60, and tell them how I feel.

I think.

I also think this is turning into a blonde joke.

The Spirit of Kokoda

2007-08-28T10:51:00.000+10:00

What an inspiration to have dinner with 300 Kokoda Track Trekkers last Friday night in the dining room at Parliament House, hosted by Veteran Trek Leader, Charlie Lynn.

Now we all know Charlie used to be a Major in the Army, so getting three hundred trekkers together, feeding and watering them, and then keeping them quiet, wasn't too hard for him.

Dentists, doctors, pollies, truck-drivers, hairdressers, brickies,
bankers, farmers and journalists, they were all there.. all ages.. all walks of life..what a good feeling there was in that room, what a great group !

Due to the efforts of Charlie Lynn over the past fifteen years, we all now know the stories of the young diggers who fought along the Kokoda Track in 1942, and those heroic black angels,from the Koiari and Orokaiva tribes, who carried the wounded out on stretchers through the mud and the slush and the driving rain over the Owen Stanley Range, to the doctors at the bottom of the Track, something the Kokoda Trekkers of today, believe is the stuff of legend.

Since the end of the war, no Australian Government has ever recognized or honoured these wonderful people who are our neighbours, and whose descendants are still living in villages along the Kokoda Track.

In Charlie's words.. " Governments don't make things happen......People make things happen.. and Governments follow. "
So let's make it happen.

Charlie has set up The Kokoda Trust, and will join with fellow Trekkers, and others ,in becoming Kokoda Custodians to assist the descendants of the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels, whose needs include trained teachers and nurses to educate the young and care for the elderly, along with desks, chairs, books educational aids and medical supplies.
A program which was joyfully embraced by the 300 trekkers at last Friday nights dinner.

Many times in the past we have seen good people rush to donate to a cause which is dear to their heart.
Time and again we see those funds swallowed up by wages for Board Members, secretaries, General Managers, most of whom should have donated their time and skills free of charge, many of whom do it because it looks good on the C.V.some of whom have no real connection to the people they are raising money for.

Just ask Tim Costello head of World Vision, what percentage of donated funds ever get to the real recipients.

The Kokoda Trust has been set up and will be administered by Charlie Lynn, who visits the Kokoda Track several times a year, has relationships with the villagers, knows their needs, and is very well acquainted with corruption in Papua new Guinea.

He, better than anyone, knows that these programs need to be carefully monitored on a regular basis.
He will work in partnership with PNG Dept of Education to assess the needs of villagers.
His Trek Leaders from Adventure Kokoda will supervise delivery of supplies to schools and medical centres, and conduct ongoing inspections.
Charlie will ensure that ALL of your financial support goes straight to the villagers.

Charlie... the " Lead..Follow or get out of my bloody way," man.. doesn't have much time for sitting around board-rooms sipping Chardonnay and making sure someone is taking the minutes, he's more than happy to put his Army boots on and get up to the Track and slush through the mud, if that's what it takes to get the job done.

He knows what's needed in PNG, and he knows his way around that place.
He knows his way around that other place in MacQuarie Street too, but is usually wearing a suit, when he slushes through the mud there.

Over the years, Charlie has attracted many followers, ignited by his passion, inspired by his dedication,they wanted to be part of it.
Some of them got off the Track, but Charlie is a Marathon Runner, and he has kept going, always determined to see that all who fought on the Kokoda Track would be recognized and honoured, and their descendants given assistance.
The Kokoda Trust is the result of years and years of work.

If you have walked the Track and been inspired by what has gone before, if you had a family member who fought along the Track, or if like me, you just believe in helping people whose past courage has helped preserve our way of Life, you can become a Kokoda custodian for $10 $25 or $30 a month, or become part of a Kokoda Bursary program which will be given special recognition on a Kokoda Bursary Honour Board, to be erected at the school, and will carry the name of each donor.

Somewhere along the Kokoda Track right now, there is an eight year old girl with a toothache.
Her Grandfather and Great Grandfather fought like hell in appalling conditions, to preserve our way of life.

So whilst we are sitting in our air-conditioned offices and lounge-rooms wondering where we'll take our next holiday, it would be nice to know she could get a panadol.

The Kokoda Trust is the vehicle for you to do just that

Friday night's dinner ended with three thunderous cheers for Charlie Lynn.
The Kokoda Spirit.
Alive and well.
_________________________________________

If you would like to become a Kokoda custodian contact Charlie on :

charlielynn@veritel.com.au

www.kokodatreks.com

The story of Ralph and Edna

2007-07-07T17:42:00.000+10:00

Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to,
doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Ralph and Edna were both patients in a Mental hospital.

One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool,Ralph suddenly jumped into the deep end.
He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.
Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled him out.

When the Head Nurse became aware of Edna's heroic act she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable.
When she went to tell Edna the news she said, "Edna, I have good news and bad news."
The good news is you're being discharged, since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis, by jumping in and saving the life of theperson you love most.

I have concluded that your act displays soundness of mind.

The bad news is, Ralph, hung himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe belt, right after you saved him.
I am so sorry, he's dead

Edna replied, " He didn't hang himself - I put him there to dry

How soon can I go home ?"

Blogging

2007-06-19T09:57:00.000+10:00

Three things you will never read on this Blog :

"Its totally unnacceptable " ... meaning... It's really bad, but I'm not going to do anything about it.

"It's totally innappropriate "....meaning... It's way off the mark, but I'm still not going to do anything about it

"On the advice I have "... meaning... it's not my problem, never was, and I'm not going to waste time trying to fix it.

"I have a conflict of interest "... meaning... and now that I've declared it, that absolves me from all blame, and all future responsibility for my own self-interested actions.

"I'm Sorry "... meaning I was suffering stress at the time, I was drunk at the time, I own up, I've taken responsibility, and no-one can ever again point the finger at me, or expect me to fix the damage I've caused.

Fortunes of War

2007-06-13T17:25:00.000+10:00

Watching an Artist on the ABC pondering the mysteries of suburbia in Australia, which he described as 'lonely 'and 'wistful'... he finally came up with this..

"In this country we live in the First World, and our lifestyle is based on the Fortunes of War "

Had to stop and think about that one.

Happy Australia Day !

2007-01-29T18:49:00.000+11:00

Happy Birthday Australia – Happy Anniversary Jethro
by Charlie Lynn

Forty days before he woke from a landmine that blew his right leg into the Niu Dat minefield, blasted his right arm off, shattered his left arm, ripped his stomach to shreds, and peppered his body with shrapnel, Sapper John ‘Jethro’ Thompson mumbled to me: ‘I’m not getting out of the army mate - they’re gunna have to build a special dozer I can drive’. ‘No worries Jethro’, I said ‘they’ll do that!’

He was a handsome 21 year old regular soldier who had already seen active service in Borneo during confrontation. I was a 21 year old raw nasho. We were on exercise in North Queensland in late ‘66 when the call came for volunteers to go to Vietnam. Within 24 hours we were on our way to the jungle warfare school at Canungra and a month later we touched down in Saigon on the 4th January 1967 – a day before my first wedding anniversary!

Jethro was assigned to the minefield at Nui Dat. I was operating bulldozers constructing our logistic base at Vung Tau. The helipad near the US Army field hospital was one of our early tasks.

It was just four months after the crucial battle of Long Tan and Australian commanders were driving our sappers to lay a protective minefield around the Task Force base. It was hot, sweaty, dangerous work.

Nobody knows what happened that day. Jethro was arming land-mines when they were hit. An explosion lifted him in the air and threw him onto his back. His mates in the squad were blasted but Jethro took the full brunt of the deadly mix of explosive powder and jagged shrapnel.

As I raced to the helipad the bloodied bodies had just arrived and were carried by desperate medics into the field hospital. Surgical teams went into immediate action and six hours later Jethro, his body swathed in bloody bandages, was wheeled into the ward. Stumps stuck out where his arms used to be. Another stump where his leg used to be. Huge clamps held his stomach together. Shrapnel fragments peppered his face.

Within a couple of days two sappers in the squad died of their wounds. Jethro defied the odds - his subconscious mind was already planning what he was going to do when he got better – not if. He has no conscious memory of his first 40 days in that ward full of young limbless soldiers. I recall many conversations with him – all of them positive.

During my vigil at his bedside I received news that one of my five brothers had been killed in a car accident at home. It took two weeks to find out which one. A far cry from the ‘embedded’ communications we have in army units today.

Six months later Jethro was a patient at Heidelberg Repat Hospital - I was a student at the Officer Cadet School, Portsea. It was a dramatic upgrade for both of us. During a weekend visit he looked down at his healing stumps and mused, ‘this is all I’ve got left mate - I’ve got to make the best use of it’.

He did just that.

Fitted with a new arm complete with a shining chrome hook, and a mechanical leg, he settled into a new job with the Public Service. Soon after he met Judy, a Vietnam war widow with two children, Justine and Dominic. After a brief courtship they married and soon Danielle, Diedre and Judith joined the family roll. He boasted that he didn’t lose everything in that fateful land-mine blast.

The bliss of family life was soon shattered when Judy was diagnosed with terminal cancer. She was just 31. How could life be so cruel to one so beautiful? He nursed her until the day she died.

Now a single dad with 5 children he learned that changing nappies was not easy for a bloke with only a reconstructed thumb and finger. He joked that the babies got more pinpricks than the shrapnel pellets he got from the land-mine explosion! Simple chores were major challenges but Jethro was a sapper – and sappers are trained to find ways around obstacles. The role of the Royal Australian Engineers is to enhance the mobility of our troops and impede the mobility of the enemy. It often requires a high degree of ‘sappernuity’.

Hanging nappies on the Hills Hoist was just one of the daily challenges he faced. How we take things for granted!

Jethro was not alone in his struggle. His army mates and Legacy kept a watchful eye on the family and were ever ready to help. But as time went by he noticed some of them were starting to fall apart.

He met Perle at a Legacy function. They chatted. She was an army widow with two young boys, Ian and Anthony. They married soon after.

The plight of Vietnam Veterans was recognised amongst peers but ignored by government and the RSL at the time. An association of Vietnam Veterans was established and Jethro left his job to become a full time advocate for his mates. He joined Legacy to help other service widows and their children. It was the least he could for them.

During our bicentennial year in 1988 he received the ‘RSL Achiever of the Year Award’ for his selfless service to veterans.

In 2006 he was made a member of the Order of Australia.

It has been a remarkable journey for the skinny 11 year old immigrant who arrived in Australia on 26 January 1956. Flags were not an issue in those days. Australia had fought off the Japanese just eleven years before. We knew who and what we were.

But forty years on Jethro’s war injuries are creeping up on him. His left shoulder needed major surgery because of the years supporting his large frame on crutches. His left arm, the only one he has, is now useless. Excruciating lower back pain keeps him immobile for days on end. Last year open heart surgery was required to replace a faulty mitral valve.

A later keyhole operation resulted in an infection that attacked his new valve. A blood clot broke off and lodged in his spleen. Repat surgeons decided there was no option but to replace the valve with a mechanical device – immediately!

As the sun rose on the 50th anniversary of Jethro's arrival in his adopted country an emergency team scrubbed up for a marathon operation at Greenslopes Repatriation Hospital. Jethro had just one request. He wanted to see an Australian flag on the end of his bed when he woke up.

I was lucky to get a late flight to Brisbane on the eve of Australia Day. I met Perle who had little sleep from the night before. We expected a three hour operation. Four hours went by – we pretended not to notice the time. Five hours. It was getting harder to maintain the pretence. Perle picked up the phone in the intensive care waiting room. He was OK. The valve had ulcerated and it took them an additional couple of hours to work through the complications.

The call ended but Perle held the phone for a few seconds as the relief washed through her. We were told he would take a few hours to come round. Perle had time for a quiet rest at home.

I waited because I was the first bloke Jethro saw when he came out of the operating theatre in Vung Tau 40 years ago. I thought it might be a good omen to be around when he woke up this time as we all feared the worst.

I will never forget the moment. He reached out with his stump and I grabbed it – his eyes expressed an urgency I had never seen before. We stayed gripped together for the next hour while he dozed in and out of consciousness. As he came to he began to grin and squeeze my hand between his stump and his side.

He was in good care. A charming, attractive nurse maintained an attentive vigil at the end of his bed. A young doctor hovered around. High tech instruments monitored every bodily function – a far cry from the pressurized ward in that army field hospital 40 years ago!

This time he opened his eyes a little further and his face lit up – he sighted the Australian flag on the end of his bed!

Australia Day has different meanings for different people. For Jethro’s family –his wife Perle, their seven children and 12 grandchildren, and to all the mates who know of his plight, it is the celebration of the survival of a young immigrant digger who has given his all for his adopted country.

Jethro's laconic wit has never left him.
Before Christmas he wanted to go to a show in the city. His mate, Peter Ferguson, called him to say the prices were outrageous – it would cost an arm and a leg. ‘I’ll send Perle then’, Jethro said, ‘I can’t afford to go’.

Jethro is an inspiration to us all.

Charlie Lynn.

On being the only Cafe open in Cammeray after Xmas..

2007-01-19T20:40:00.000+11:00

Hi Rob,

On behalf of the coffee addicts and those (like me) too lazy to pack their
lunches over the 'Xmas break, a belated thank you to you and your staff for
weathering the storm for those three weeks.

It was hell behind that counter, Im sure, with tabouli and felafal balls
flying everywhere, and lattes dripping from the saucers as they were being
thrown across the cafe (to save time serving), but you all pulled together
and got us through.

A job well done, and I know if there was a war which cafe Id like to have
next to me in the trenches.

Tally Ho!

_________________________________________________________________

on the greatest Horse Race in the World

2006-11-07T17:11:00.000+11:00

....so when my fruit and vege man arrived fresh from the markets early this morning.. I said to him.. "I know you are a devout muslim, and you don't gamble....... and he replied 'Put fifty bucks each way on Delta Blues, Robyn '

..my Mother was right.. I never bloody listen.

On Anger

2006-10-25T19:23:00.000+10:00

The BEST I've heard this week :

" He who angers you, conquers you "

On Democracy

2006-07-26T16:47:00.000+10:00

Democracy, from the Greek words demos (people) and kratos (rule) was born at the end of the Archaic Period where some Greek Cities overthrew their tyrants and replaced them with this radical new form of government.

Unlike modern democracies only citizens had a say.
Women, slaves and men born outside the City were all excluded. The Athenian system was introduced in 506BC by an aristocrat named Cleisthenes. He set up an assembly where every citizen could speak and vote.
It met every 10 days on a hill called the Pnyx and debated proposals made by the Council which was made up of 500 citizens – 50 elected from each of the 10 tribes.

The tribes took turns running the Council and the daily affairs of the state. The Assembly required 600 citizens for a meeting to take place. If there were too few people police were sent to round up more. Under the democratic system the most important officials were the strategoi; 10 military commanders elected annually, one from each tribe. Popular strategoi, like Pericles, a favourite Mayor, were re-elected many times.
Pericles was Mayor of Athens in a very complex time when the war against the feuding states of Greece threatened the very safety of the City. His funeral speech for a friend, should be read at every citizenship ceremony and every politician that needs reassurance about doing the right thing, should have it under his or her pillow.

The Athenians had an interesting system for getting rid of unpopular politicians.
A vote was held once a year, at which any citizen could write down the name of a politician he wished to see banished on a piece of broken pot.

If more than 600 votes were cast against someone that person would have to leave Athens for 10 years. This procedure was known as ostracism, after the pot on which the name was written.
And young people these days think the Survivor television concept is new and modern!

On African Cuisine

2006-07-17T18:31:00.000+10:00

If you are looking for something different for your next Dinner party, Birthday party or event, and want to surprise and delight your guests,look no further than authentic African cuisine.

Chef Bathie ( pronounced Bajie ) is from Senegal in Africa, and worked as a Chef for us for some time.

Try his African Wild curry, Beef Kyinkyinga, or Moy Moy with vegetable confit in piri piri broth, and many more.
Simple, good, wholesome food, some of the recipes which have been handed to him from generations of African cooks.

This is an experience not to be missed.
Believe me, this man knows his food!!

To purchase ingredients and recipes : go to www.shieldandspear.com.au
and let's have some comments, please !!

On Schizophrenia Research

2006-07-02T12:17:00.000+10:00

Every year about 2000 more young Australians are struck down by Schizophrenia.
NISAD - Schizophrenia Research - has a vision to discover the means to prevent and cure this devastating illness.
In an ideal world, schizophrenia research would be supported by unlimited resources.
In reality, NISAD must compete for whatever funding is available from the government, corporations and the community.
There are a number of methods in which individuals and organisations can support NISAD, and become a part of something really important in the prevention and eventual cure of one of the world's major diseases.
NISAD does not run expensive advertising campaigns, instead they ask you as a supporter to open new doors for NISAD any way you can.
Whether you have schizophrenia or not, you can contribute to research by putting your name down on the schizophrenia research register, a volunteer database of people who want to contribute to research.
As a NSID supporter, some of the things you can do include:
NISAD has a strong relationship with Tyrrell’s Wines dating back to the late Murray Tyrrell, and are delighted that the Tyrrell’s family have offered to continue this tradition. As a NISAD supporter you will have the opportunity to purchase their wines either as a one off delivery, or a regular delivery, two or four times per year, and Tyrrell’s will donate 10% of the per case price back to NISAD.
You receive great wines, and NISAD receive a donation every time you buy.
The more wine sold, the more donated to NISAD Schizophrenia Research.

For more information about research into schizophrenia and other related illnesses, and the great work being done by NISAD go to http://www.nisad.org.au/
and if you have had personal experience of this disease, please write to me, I would love to chat.

Still a Top Drop

2006-06-06T21:09:00.000+10:00

History of Coffee.

Have you ever sat in Café Bono, looked down at your coffee, and wondered about its history, or how it ended up in your cup ? well, we love our coffee, and our coffee roaster, Dave Kennedy, so we are a bit biased about the taste and quality of ours.
We never really thought about how coffee got started though, until now...read on....

It is believed that coffee plants were first discovered in the Ethiopian province of Kaffa, and legend has it, that a Sheep herder named Kaldi, noticed that the sheep he was taking care of would become hyperactive after eating red berries from a native plant .

Deciding to see what the effects of these berries would have on him, Kaldi soon noticed that he also became hyperactive, after eating them .

A passing monk, ( monks were always passing in those days )scalded Kaldi for his actions.
Ironically, it would be monks of this period that would be among the first coffee enthusiasts, because they found that the stimulant qualities of coffee allowed them to stay awake for long periods of time, which was useful during periods of meditation, whereas now, we just find it useful for staying awake at work.

Anyway, coffee received its name from the Ethiopian province of Kaffa, which continues to be a major coffee growing region in the world today, so the early history of coffee takes place in the African – Arabian, parts of the world.
It was around the year 1000 A.D. that coffee plants were transported from Ethiopia to Arabia, where they began to be cultivated for the first time on plantations.
So up to the Seventeenth century, coffee was a treat that could only be found in Arabia, and coffee production was protected vigorously in the region, and it was prohibited for coffee plants to be transported outside of any Moslem nations, probably fuelled by the Islamic prohibition against alcoholic beverages.

The first coffee shop in the world was opened in Constantinople in 1475, and was known as Kiva Han.
Funny name for a café, but there you go.

And this bit’s interesting.. In 1453, Turkish law was changed, to make it legal for a woman to divorce her husband on the grounds that he was unable to provide her with her daily quota of coffee !

Sounds civilized to me.

While coffee was a jealously guarded secret in Arabia and Africa, it soon spread to other parts of the world, during the Seventeenth century.

The discovery of Mocha coffee beans made coffee a desired drink in Europe, and coffee production began to take place in different parts of the world. With the rise of colonialism, major European powers introduced coffee production to subtropical colonies.

Companies like Dutch East India, introduced coffee plants to Indonesia, a country that would later become one the largest coffee producers in the world .
Coffee however, was not introduced, without controversy.

Italian imports of coffee were met with early skepticism from the Vatican.
Early Christians viewed it as the devil's drink.
Upon hearing these claims, Pope Vincent III decided that he needed to taste it before banishing it, and promptly fell in love with it, bless him.

During the seventeenth century, coffee houses begin to appear throughout Europe, and soon became centers of commercial, political and social activity, just like our cafes are today.

So enjoy your cup of coffee, its come a long way, since the little goat herder in Ethiopia first discovered it, and thank God he did!!!!!

.. and remember, if it grows in the ground, its good for you!

Birthday Congratulations

2006-05-20T16:58:00.000+10:00

My wife got your email address from the Café Bono web site, so we could write to say how much we have enjoyed patronising your café in the past five years .
We noticed last week, your sign saying it was your fifth Birthday celebration,
We have been residents of Cammeray for almost thirty years now, and remember when your Café was a butchers shop called Parkers.
It was empty for a couple of years and there were no cafes in Cammeray then just the Milk Bar, near the corner.

When the English chappie took it over, and made it into a café, my wife said to me, we must get up there and have a look !
And we did. He was cheerful and willing, and we always enjoyed our coffee there, although previous to that we had been tea drinkers .
At first we didn’t know he had sold it to you, until we gradually noticed changes, especially to the back room, where we always sit and have our smoked salmon sandwich. My wife loves it there and loves looking at your books and candles too.

Just wanted to say congratulations as I know cafes are very hard work long hours for not that much return.
Its nice to have somewhere to go where we often see old friends, and where we are always made to feel welcome.

Happy Birthday Cafe Buono!

2006-05-20T16:25:00.000+10:00

We are in Italy, where everywhere the coffee is good, except in the hotels.

Love the Italian style! They have little bars everywhere where you can pop in for a coffee or a wine .

It costs less to stand at the counter and drink coffee, than to sit down and drink coffee.

Can you imagine Cafe Bono ?? with half a dozen people standing at the counter, chatting with Jime and Tash and drinking espresso?

I can. Plus, they'd be selecting food from the Deli counter, and eating it while standing up.

Everyone is so calm in these little bars. I just love the atmosphere here, and drink more coffee than I need to, because it is so much fun!

I don't think I've seen a Juice Bar in Italy. They sell a lot of bottled drinks in the bars, though.

Best Wishes to all at Café Bono... and congratulations on your FIFTH Anniversary.!!

Postcard from Italy

2006-05-09T18:37:00.000+10:00

So where's the garlic?
Been in Italy for a week and a half, and we've only had garlic in one meal!
In every Italian restaurant in Australia ,there is the wonderful aroma of garlic but here in Italy, the smells are more varied, and the garlic has been surprisingly absent.Discovering so many wonderful things in Sicily. There is so much ancient Greek history here, which is unexpected. Have discovered a tiny little Enoteca (wine bar) specialising in Sicilian wine and have enjoyed several glasses.
The bar owner didn’t speak any English, but we got by on limited Italian and a lot of pointing. One of the things most like about Italy is the lack of regulation. People here are still responsible for their own actions.
Accidents are still allowed to happen.
I think Australia has become such a ‘ Nanny State ‘ that no matter what happens someone else can always be blamed.
I've come to realise how tightly we are governed and controlled. How there are signs on every corner, allowing this or disallowing that.
Italy seems to function beautifully, without too many rules.Any Street sign is considered a suggestion, at best.
At first I was terrified as a pedestrian, but now I've learnt to step out into the traffic…. and it stops !!…. - and the drivers all smile ! There are very few traffic lights - even in Roma - but the traffic still flows. I have yet to witness an accident - athough we've been in some near misses.Back to the Greek architecture - How did they build these amazing towns clinging to the sides and tops of mountains?All through Southern Italy, almost every hill seems to have a Norman castle defending a hill-clinging town.
It looks like it would be impossible to build these towns now, let alone centuries ago.We've enjoyed Sorrento (clinging to a cliff of course), Positano (clinging to a cliff of course), Capri (clinging to a cliff of course), Taormin in Sicily (clinging to a cliff of course), and now Syracuse (no cliff but some magnificent Roman and Greek ruins) and, of course, the little Enoteca that is responsibly for tonight's ramblings.
(I still don't know where the garlic's gone, but the red onions are fantastic, and so is the coffee - almost every bar can make good coffee. I love the idea of going to a bar for coffee and an Enoteca for wine!
Viva Italia !!

House Sitting

2006-05-04T15:04:00.001+10:00

So cheerily volunteered to house-sit for friends who would be in Europe for six weeks.
Seemed like a great idea, nice house, a couple of very old dogs who just sleep and eat all day, a pond filled with carp who just swim and eat all day,and a garden which seemed fairly self-sufficient, once you figured out how to regulate the intricate technicalities of the watering system.
All went well for the first couple of weeks, and we happily assured our friends in Italy that all was well back at their home.
Then disaster struck.
On inspection of the pond one morning, found one of the carp had grown a huge tumour on both sides of his tummy, and was rolling around the bottom of the pond.
All of his mates were looking decidedly ill, and all activity in the pond had come to a halt.
We immediately called in a number of Consultants ( mostly Big Game Fisherman and Helicopter Pilots ) and they said to get it out quick smart, ( the nearly dead fish that is ) or it would poison all the others.

Right. So I was elected to fish it out, if you'll excuse the pun, my daughter not being born in the bush like me, is a bit of a wimp about dead things, not to mention superstitious about things dying whilst in her care.

So I fished him out with the long BBQ tongs, and up he came, but he started wriggling which gave me a shock and I dropped him back in. After three goes, I finally got him out,and dropped him into the plastic bucket, where he immediately came back to life, and started flicking about, which I hopefully took to be his last death throes, because if not, what the hell was I going to do with him now?
After an hour,and careful inspection, decided he was really dead, wrapped him in plastic and disposed of him.
Filled the tank with fresh water, and added the de-tox stuff ( and some Holy Water ) blessed the lot of them, and prayed they would be all be swimming happily around by the next morning.
So far, so good.
That afternoon, the Cleaner came , and informed us that Jessie the dog has been sleeping on the couch, which she is NOT allowed to do, and there is dog hair on it. The couch that is.
Well I haven't a clue where the dog sleeps, whilst she roams the house all night.
Thought she slept on her mat.

We think she is fretting for her owners, and has taken to sleeping on the couch, as she can smell them there, but how to stop her, and anyway, we are more concerned with Jessie, than the couch.
Don't want her dying before her owners return, if you know what I mean.
Meanwhile, back at my own house, the arch between the kitchen and the living room ( which I've been trying to get rid of for years ) has finally been knocked out.. all fine except part of the roof came down with it, so had to call in an expert, who is of the opinion, that if we don't get a metal strut across the top of the bloody great hole in the wall quick smart, our upstairs neighbours will soon be dining with us in our kitchen. Lovely.
Round about then I decided it was time to have a nice big glass of red,which I promptly did, and received a cheerful email from my friends in Italy who were very philosophical about their fish's demise and said : " it was just a matter of time before Fatty went to the giant fish pond in the sky, and they'd be raising their glasses of G&T to their departed friend tonight as the sun slowly sinks on Taormina.
Great.

Back to the house-sitting, where my daughter phones me in hysterics because she says Jessie the dog, has been lying down on the deck for hours, not moving. I said is her stomach going up and down ? " Answer " NO "
But a quick prod proved otherwise, and Jessie slowly rose again like Phoenix from the Ashes.
Only a month to go.
I've started drinking heavily

Kokoda.The Spirit Lives !

2006-04-25T10:42:00.001+10:00

Charlie Lynn :
My interest in the Kokoda campaign goes back to early childhood readings of the 'Khaki and Green' a series of books produced at the end of the Pacific War. These books featured short stories, poems and illustrations of diggers who fought in the battles that saved Australia.
One of these was my late father, Private Keith (Charlie) Lynn who served in Milne Bay, Lae and Finschafen in New Guinea.

The stories I read were etched in my mind from an early age as were my memories of Anzac Day parades and reunions in our small Gippsland town of Orbost, Victoria.

When I first walked the track in 1991 I was sadly disappointed to find that this important icon had been ignored by successive governments since the end of the war - the jungle had reclaimed the battlesites; no monuments or memorials had been erected by Government along the track; the legendary 'fuzzy-wuzzy angels' had never been issued with a medal; the study of the campaign is not part of our education systems; and no feature film had ever been produced.

Since then I have led 40 expeditions involving Australians from all walks of life across the track. During this time we have identified the battlesites of Mission Ridge, Brigade Hill, Isurava, Eora Creek and Deniki. We have encouraged the Federal Government to erect a magnificient memorial at Isurava and have established The Kokoda Track Foundation to have the track proclaimed as a National Memorial Park.

Our aim is to ensure that trekkers can complete the journey safely and that it is both an educative and a commemorative experience for them.
On this Anzac Day 2006, and for the future, together we will ensure the spirit of Kokoda is never forgotten.

When the war came to PNG in 1942, Ovuru Indiki was in Port Moresby, but went back to his village.
It was a long way, and he was very frightened, with no idea what was happening.
He started carrying supplies back along the Track for the Aussie soldiers, and along the way came across many wounded .
Ovuru and his friends built stretchers and carried the Diggers back to the Medics at Owers Corner, a slow ,dangerous, and torturous journey, along a Track called ' the Devil's own design ' thus earning their name :
" Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels "

60 years later, Charlie Lynn brought Ovuru Indiki to Sydney , and one afternoon,they dropped into my Cafe in Cammeray.

The sight of that old man, his beauty and his dignity, sitting in front of my Cafe , grinning at me whilst he ate his chocolate cake and drank his tea, is not something I will ever forget.
To this day, he has never been awarded a medal for Bravery ,from the Australian Government.

Saturday Night Fever

2006-04-17T13:28:00.000+10:00

So dining with Wine Buff Christopher Miley and his wife Alison , I am watching Chris de-cork and decanter and finally slurp the wine back into the freshly washed bottle, as he loudly proclaims…

“ We’ll start with the Seppelts Sparkling Shiraz, intelligent and alluring with soft spices.. then we’ll move onto the St Hugo Coonawarra Cab. Sav…a very sexy little Cab. Sav. and “ we’ll finish with the Orlando Jacaranda Ridge 96. “

Fine. By now I was starving, and more interested in the food than the wine.
Meanwhile Christopher has poured the wine, but as yet hasn’t drunk any.

First the sniffing, and then the rhetoric, while we watch and listen.

Finally, the great moment arrives, and we take a sip.
Tastes like sparkling red to me, but Christopher is yelling “ input please, input, input !!! “ with pen and paper poised, as we go on slurping and swishing and sipping and smelling .
Meanwhile the rare Roast Beef is going cold, and I’m trying to think of more adjectives, so piped up with wistful ?? but nobody took any notice.

At first I thought I was back in High School in my English class, and Miss Gilbert was demanding that we describe the thing better.. but no I was still at the dinner table, and it was just the red liquid they were talking about. and it continued.. “ deep, intense sexy, spicy, alluring, powerful, hint of vanilla, peppercorns, cigar box and oak. “

And the nose…
( said with his nose in the glass ) a “ power-packed cacopheny of aromas that take some sorting “
“ Firm, grippy tannins, maybe a little tomato leaf “ ?

“ Intelligent and voluptuous.” Voluptuous ? How can a wine be voluptuous ?

Were the grapes curvy and fat, did they wiggle as they were being squashed to make the wine.??
“Superb structure and balance with controlled power,” ( is it a Mercedes he’s talking about ? )
…”.a lovely long finish “
No, he’s talking about sex, that’s it.

Well round about then, I decided either I was on another planet, or everybody was discussing a subject that I had missed
when I was outside having a cigarette,( and ruining my palate.)
But no, it was the red stuff in the bottle they were still talking about.

As the night wore on, and the beef cold rarer and colder, I became even more fascinated, and l started to looked forward to the “ long and dreamlike finish “

Which eventually came of course, but by then I was so drunk from too much wine and lack of food ,I think I missed it.

But honestly, how CAN a wine be “ intelligent “ ?
Where are its brain cells stored ?

Cheers, Chris.
Love your work.

Postcard from Buenos Aires

2006-04-14T10:55:00.000+10:00

2005...So.. my 23 year old daughter takes off to back pack around South America, and I prepare to travel vicariously through her emails and graphic photos, which start arriving soon after, the contents of which are not for the feint-hearted.

Dear Mum, that's me just sailing down the Amazon River on a tyre.
Yes, there are alligators, but they are way over the other side of the river.

Dear Mum : this one’s of me, hang gliding off the coast of Lima, those rocks way down below are not really that jagged .

Dear Mum : that's me waving to you, from horseback up the side of Maccu Pichu.
It's a bit hard to see me, because the mountain is vertical, the white stuff is snow, the rocks are a bit slippery, and the horse has lost its footing a couple of times, but I'm having a great time Mum !

Dear Mum : that's just me with my friend in the back of a ute with a dead chook in a sugar bag beside me on our way to a village in the jungle.

The chook was a gift for the head of the village, but it has died on the way because its taking a long time to get there, almost 3 days so far, so I'm not sure when we will arrive ,because the driver doesn't speak English, drives very fast on the dirt road around hair-pin bends with 300 ft drops beside them, and also, I think he's been smoking Coca leaf, but I'll email you when we arrive.

Oh, might not be an Internet cafe there, never mind, we are somewhere in the Amazon Jungle on the way to the Peruvian border.
Yes Mum, I know people sometimes disappear under these circumstances, but right now I'm more worried about the dead chook, which is starting to smell, and also I haven't eaten for 2 days.

And finally,,,
Dear Mum : Have arrived safely in Lima,Peru, and my friend and I have just been dispersed with tear gas by Riot Police in the street, during a demonstrationbut we're okay, and have got something to eat at last.

Oh, by the way.. there's an envelope in the drawer of your dressing table, inside you'll find a ticket for Argentina, see you there on 25th !

Your kids can be a pain in the arse sometimes, but hang in there, they grow up and buy you airline tickets!!

So I phoned the Tax man and told him to take stress leave for two weeks, informed my staff that they had just become part of that wonderful Aussie Institution, the volunteer work force !! packed my placards in the suitcase, just in case there were any really GOOD demonstrations, and boarded Aerolineas Argentinas, for that long, long flight across the Pacific Ocean, and let me tell you it was a long time between fags, 23 hours in fact.

Sat next to a lovely Brazilian woman who couldn't speak a word of English, I don't speak Portugese ,so naturally we found a way to communicate.

I told her I might have a heart attack.
( Well everyone told me I probably would, because I was too old, smoked too much, Third World planes fall out of the sky, the usual cheery stuff)

Maria said something like " No worries Senora, I know what to do, just go to sleep now “
So I took her advice. Later I discovered she was a Doctor.

Picked up my 23 year old Aussie backpacker at Buenos Aires airport, she had just flown in from Bolivia, and looked a bit skinny.

Her first remark..….
' How come you’re walking around this airport looking so at home amongst total strangers in a foreign country where you don't speak a word of the bloody language ?? "
This Y generation, no idea of the Baby Boomers.
Don't they know we are at home anywhere ?

After a joyful reunion with her,mostly in a pile of legs and luggage and backpacks on the floor of the airport, we hit Buenos Aires, and arrived at our B & B the Hotel Frossard on Tucaman Street, once owned by the family of Che Guevera.

Why do all the really successful revolutionaries always come from wealthy families.?

What a town. Streets so wide you can fit six cars across, Spanish architecture everywhere, beautiful bread, beautiful looking people.
Public toilets everywhere, in dress shops, leather shops, even the corner Tobacconist, with CLEANERS in and out every half an hour!!

No graffiti in this city. Only saw it once, on the side of a Bank,
.. in Spanish…. BANKS ARE SHIT!!"
Mmmm .Must be Universal.

God, if only we'd be discovered by the Spaniards instead of the"bloody Poms, we'd be able to smoke everywhere,find a Loo, and Tango in Sydney streets at 9.00 a.m. in the morning, without getting booked by a Council Ranger for being outside the white lines or something.

The Black economy is alive and well in Buenos Aires.
We had our favourite place, and went there each night.
The old bloke behind the till was whacking the cash into his pocket, the drawer was always open, and the till read 20 pesos.
I think it had read 20 pesos for the last eight years. Very informal, their Economy.

Putting my key card into the ATM, imagine my delight to find there were thousands and thousands of dollars in there,( so I thought, ) well they are doing okay back in the Cafe ,I'll keep on spending.... but uh oh.. the balance in pesos, not Oz dollars.
Only one third that much.
Never mind, I still bought ten pairs of shoes back with me.

Beautiful looking people, the Argentines ,and they have great style,all wear gorgeous clothes and shoes. The shops are wonderful, all the great Designer Houses are there. Beautiful Alpaca woollen goods.
Argentine leather, in the latest European style, very reasonable at about $110 AUD. We shopped for coats at Only Leather on the Mall, and Carlo looked after us.

My Aussie backpacker couldn’t decide, so bought the lot!

We went to the Eva Peron’s Museum in Palermo.. which houses all of Argentina’s most famous daughter’s stuff in a beautiful old home, which was originally one of the houses she set up for the street children of Buenos Aires in the 1930’s.
Her dresses,suits,hats,and jewellery, and lots of photos of her, are all on display.

Last week was the fiftieth anniverary of her death from cancer at age 33. Not sure I approved of her husband Juan´s fascist politics but I guess he did his best for the "cabecitas negras which is how the rich disdainfully referred to the poor, dark-skinned "peronistas" in those times, or shirtless workers " which is what I’ll be when I get back home.

My Aussie backpacker shops a lot, and eats a lot.

Evita’s body was kidnapped when she died in 1955, and taken to Spain, but was returned in the 70´s, and we also visited the crypt in Ricoletta where she is buried.($ 20,000 US if you want to be buried there! )
What a beautiful, peaceful place for her last resting place.

Seems she is still remembered either with passionate adoration, or vehement hatred.
Maybe she was a Scorpio.

Also went to a demonstration in the main square near Govt house, which was very orderly, although there were a lot of Policia standing by.

In 2001 when the Argentine economy was very bad, there were riots in the Plaza De Mayo, and 27 people were shot and killed.
Twice I have been to an ATM, and the screen says ¨sorry no pesos today ¨ so you just try another one., until you get one that’s got cash in it.
The Argentines need the Touriste dollar.

Every Thursday afternoon at 3.30 pm there is a March in the Plaza by the Madres of Plaza de Mayo, some of whom are now in their eighties.
It was very moving to see parents, brothers, sisters and other family members holding photos of their children who disappeared in the late 70´s during the Dirty War..30,000 of them, taken by the Military Regime and never seen again.
They have never given up, and they still march, every Thursday.

Spent the afternoon sitting on a park bench talking to Guillermo Pesce ; a 71 year old half-Spanish half-Italian writer, whose brother disappeared all those years ago. The soldiers and police just came intohis house one night, and took his brother, whilst his pregnant sister-in-law watched, helplessly.

He was never seen or heard of again, and Guillermo still marches along with the others, every Thursday afternoon.

There are police, watchmen, security guards everywhere, every few feet, in the street, all night
No Asian people. Haven’t seen a single one.
Its strange to be in a country inhabited only by its natives, after living in multi-cultural Oz.

Not many indiginous people here, I think its too far south. But some playing the pipes in the Street.

You also see children begging in the streets which looks incongrous next to Argentine shoppers hurrying by carrying 6 or 7 designer label shopping bags.

Apparently the beggars are from Bosnia, and ex-USSR mostly Ukraine.
They are well organized, and arrive by bus to the city each day.

I´ve seen a boy around two and a half sitting alone in the street, filthy and begging. Of course I gave him money.
Of course, the Aussie Backpacker warned me against it ( She’d been in South America for three months )
Of course, the next day as I was walking along she said "Look behind you, Mum " and there they were,all following me in a long, long line.!!

Of course there is poverty. Extreme poverty. Of course some of the ads on Argentina TV warn viewers that child Prostitution is illegal.

But it’s a beautiful, vibrant city, this "Paris of South America "

Shopping is a dream. We could all take a lesson in Customer Service from the Argentines.
On arrival, they greet you, then leave you alone, only approach again if you obviously want help, and then they are charming and helpful, but not pushy.

Real Estate prices are very cheap, compared to Sydney. A nice little apartment in a good suburb like Palermo,( like Woolahra ) around $30,000 – to $57,000 US. With a maid’s room.

You have to speak some Spanish. English is spoken, but not frequently, so you will
need your Lonely Planet guide book with you.

One unusual occupation in Buenos Aires is professional dog-walkers.
For a few pesos they walk your dog each day. Only trouble with that, they take up to twenty dogs on leads at a time, so a bit hard to negotiate the foot path, sometimes.

The people here always think I am American. When I say Australia, they shoot straight back "g’day mate "

The cafe con leche ( coffee with milk ) arrives with a tiny glass of mineral water. Nice touch.

Each night the chefs in their big hats from the restaurants and cafes pace up and down outside their place, and spruik.
Competition is fierce. They hand out the menu to passers by, and get them in.
They do this by saying the food at the other restaurants is crap, and theirs is better.
We could try that in Sydney ( as opposed to just gossiping about it )

Last week went to a cafe along the wharf, and I went to the toilet. Signs all in Spanish so I took a guess, and went in.
Six pairs of brown MALE eyes looked up at me.????
I said ¨Perdon, no Espanol !! ¨and backed out quick smart.
Terribly funny, for them.

We went to a Tango Club. Huge stage, rows of balcony seats, plush red velvet chairs, white linen tableclothes and candelabra... like an old theatre straight out of the 50´s, it was full of Columbians, Mexicans and Brazilians all dressed up in furs and diamonds .. fabulous Tango dancers singers and orchestra.. wonderful food and wine.
We rocked up in our thongs, but none of them have a clue where Australia is anyway.

Have also visited a Candle Factory in Buenos Aires.

The Australian Trade Commission gave me some names here in Buenos Aires, so we were picked up from the Hotel by car and off we went.
Diego Casada from Casadovelas, is a an Argentine Engineer,in business for 13 years here ,with German candle making machinery, and the most beautiful candles, which he exports all over the world.
He gave us coffee and cigarettes, two boxes of samples, and the history of Argentine politics

Everyone talks politics here, endlessly.

Went to the Antique markets, and to La Boca, which is like The Cross in Sydney, dangerous at night, but beautiful in the day.
Spanish guitar players ,street stalls and all the houses painted different colours... Tango dancers everywhere in the sun at 9.00 a.m. in the morning on cobbled streets.

Visited the Café Tortoni, one of the most famous cafes in the world, where all the Presidents and all the movie stars frequent whenever they are in B.A.. Beautiful stained glass ceilings,food was average and overpriced, and I thought the waiters were a bit snooty.
Argentine men are very nice looking, fair skin, black hair,their women are beautiful…. and the children !!!
I want to take them all home with me.

If you look at Sydney and Buenos Aires on a world map, the line running between them is dead straight.
Maybe that’s why we feel so at home here, because both countries are aligned, both down the bottom of the World.

I'll never forget these two weeks in beautiful, brave Argentina.

Buenos Aires Rocks.
Robyn Ritchie
October, 2005

The Ultimate Bono

2006-03-15T18:11:00.000+11:00

So the Boy’s in Sydney town,and for those of you who missed his interview on the ABC with Andrew Denton, (what on Earth could you possibly have to do that was more important?)

... here’s some of what he said:

On Himself : "I’m a spoilt-rotten rock star. Celebrity is currency, and I’m going to spend it while the spotlight is on me , and use it to get access to Leaders, because I can’t enjoy it while 3,000 children a day are dying in Africa from a mosquito bite, which you can cure with medicine from the corner shop.
If we really believed that Africans are equal to us we wouldn’t be letting them die."

On his faith : "I’ve broken nearly all the commandments, and the ones I haven’t broken, I wanted to. People are the problem with the World, God just gets bad press"

On Pollies : "I’ve been surprised to find that most politicians are hard-working, and most are ok. I have learned respect for the Conservatives. I even liked George Bush. Well he can be very funny. Sometimes our conversations got heated, and once he said "I am the President, do you mind if I finish my sentence?" "Well I have to phone him now and then to make sure the 68 Billion keeps coming, you know, sometimes it’s a bit slow."

"I am a pest to World Leaders, but they can’t afford to ignore me.
I have the 18 to 36 year old vote, and Pollies all over the world are most scared of the Soccer Mums."

On his Music : "I try not to dish out crap."

Well, in a tiny little suburb on the North Shore of Sydney in Australia, down the arse end of the World, there’s a little café named after him, mainly because he doesn’t dish out crap, but mostly because he’s probably the most powerful person of the Millenium.

Go Patrick.
In this 21st Century, no child should be dying of hunger.

Robyn Ritchie
Cafe Bono
Sydney Australia