Bondi beautiful

What is it about Bondi? Put the name in a TV show and it's guaranteed to attract attention: Bondi Rescue and Bondi Vet. Say you live in Bondi and people don't usually ask, "Where's that?" Choose to visit the beach on a hot summer's day and you share it with thousands of others who have decided it's the place to be. Bondi, what is your allure?

Simple. Bondi is full of beautiful, young people who flock to its shores from all around the world to bask in its sun. Young people that walk the streets bikini clad or in board shorts, with bronzed skin and perfect, toned butts and bods. So, for a society that worships at the shrine of youth and beauty, it's understandably one helluva popular place.

Not that it's all youth, beauty, pert tits and ripplin' torsos. I live here, after all, and I walk anonymously among the young, cool and hip shamelessly older, uncool and unhip. I'm a thorn among the roses and oh, it's sweet bliss. 

I wouldn't trade the wisdom of my years for youth and beauty. Oscar Wilde was not wrong when he said, "Youth is wasted on the young." Broody, moody and intense is how I'd describe my youth. I had a great bod but was too self-conscious to enjoy its beauty; I was too focused on its faults. It's only now, when I look back at photos of myself when I was in my 20s, that I think, "Shit! I was hot! I'd fuck me!"

Well, damn if I'm gonna look back at photos of myself in my 30s and 40s when I'm 80-year-old duck and think the same thing. When you reach my age, you realise that beauty has more to do with a healthy mind than a youthful body. At least that's the conclusion I've reached, and I'm gonna stick with it.

Not that I don't appreciate and admire the youth and beauty I see every day on the streets of Bondi. It's fresh, it's lovely, it's sexy...but I neither want it nor envy it. Unlike other people, I don't worship at the shrine of youth and beauty. I worship at the shrine of life and recognise that each life stage has its blessings and its challenges. 

Besides, the older people around Bondi ain't too harsh on the eyes either. Bondi beautiful...it's superficial, it's light, it's fun. Look under the surface...well, that's a topic for another time.

Just for the fun of it...

I was checking out the groups on Facebook today when I noticed one in particular that aroused my curiosity: I Secretly Want To Punch Slow Moving People In The Back Of The Head. I checked it out and realised it wasn't for me. 

In fact, I'm more likely to be the person these members want to punch in the back on the head, as I gingerly place one foot in front of the other in a mindful execution of precision that honours the quest to live in the moment. 

Okay, mostly it's not like that.

But I did do a meditation walk... once. The objective was to be present with every movement your body made as you took a step. It took me an hour to walk one metre. I might try it again one day to really piss these people off. There may be over 1,000,000 members, but they only want to secretly do it, so I think I'm safe.

Who loves the groups on Facebook? I do. Like this one: I Don't Care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like a Dumbass. I didn't join this group either in respect to the pair I got years ago when they first came out. They arrived in the office of the magazine I worked on back then. It took us a while to determine exactly what they were. Weird! Big! Ugly! A colleague suggested I try them on. 

Oh, yes, and comfy. 

I don't think I took them off for the next six months. I wore them everywhere, and then I started to notice that everyone else had a pair, too. Cheap replicas started to pop up all over the place. Then the accessories arrived to pretty 'em up a bit. People made millions. Streets around the world became a rainbow of colour.

By then, I was over the phenomenon. In summer, they would make my feet swelter and squeak. I finally got myself a full-length mirror and, crickey!, it hit home. Why would I want to get around in a pair of shoes that go with nothing and make my feet look like they belong in a Mickey Mouse cartoon?

I'll keep 'em though. For when I move to a country cottage by the river; they make great river shoes.   

Another that took my interest was I FLIP MY PILLOW OVER TO GET TO THE COLD SIDE. Wow! I didn't even know that people did this. And lots of people do, it seems. Over 700,000. I sleep with a foot on a cold wall in summer. Is it the same thing? 

I'm always amazed at the strange things people do, or admit they do. Like the group who love to look at themselves in mirrors and pictures (ie. photos, not picture frames, which is the meaning I first took). I don't often like to see myself in photos or mirrors – shit! do I really look like that? – but I'm always curious to see what I look like in shop windows. The image reflected seems so much more gentle and mysterious. Though, it's probably a good idea that I start to look in mirrors more often. Then I wouldn't have to hear others point out to me that my nostril hairs seem a bit long or that I have bits of food – usually burnt toast – stuck in my teeth.     

A group I did join was No, I Don't Care If I Die At 12AM, I Refuse To Pass On Your Chain Letter. Then, what do I do after I join the group? I send off a chain letter. Shit! What can I say? I was got in a moment of vulnerability. The letter promised riches, fame and undying love forever after... well, not really. But it did promise that my wish would come true in eight minutes if I sent it on. Well, those eight minutes are up and I'm still WAITING! But you knew that would happen, didn't you?

Unlike myself, you don't fall for crap like that... unlike myself, you wouldn't let a moment of vulnerability cloud your senses... unlike myself, you probably don't waste precious time checkin' out groups on Facebook.

Mother Nature wreaks havoc, Aussies unite in grief

On Saturday, 7 February 2009, Australia witnessed its worse every bushfire disaster, with 84 people already confirmed dead (numbers expected to rise) and over 700 homes razed. It's been described as Hell on Earth and for small community towns in Victoria, such as Merrysville and Kinglake, it is. Only charred buildings and scarred landscapes remain where small towns once stood.

Firestorms swept through the towns at speeds of up to 100km/h. One resident of Merrysville watched as his house was burnt down in five minutes. People had only moments to escape as the smoky darkness descended. Many didn't escape at all.  

As I write, firefighters still work tirelessly to try and contain Mother Nature's inferno.  

Grief has poured in from across the country and, indeed, the world, as Australians mourn for those affected. So many have reached out a hand in support. In fact, so many offered help on the ABC Melbourne web page, they had to close it so they could process the offers. The tender human heart has flourished... people offered homes and rooms, transport, handy man services, food, clothes, land for agistment and, of course, money.

Two days later...

A nation grieves as the full horror of the tragedy emerges and people recount the terror they experienced as the inferno indiscriminately engulfed towns and property, with 173 now confirmed dead. One family hugs relieved to be reunited after many anxious hours, while another huddles together and sobs after they learn three family members did not make it. Hospitals are full with burns and smoke inhalation patients.

In response, Australia mobilises. Governments, businesses and individuals send what they can to help those affected meet basic needs: food, water, shelter. Yet, it's clear that it will take time to rebuild houses, businesses and towns, and the Federal Government has promised to spend whatever is needed, with no cap. 

An aerial view of the ravaged land shows blackened twigs where trees once stood. The black and grey landscape is oblivious to the fire's devastation and does not mourn its loss...new sprouts will shoot in spring and the land will slowly start to rejuvenate.

Slowly, homes and towns will also start to rejuvenate, as the rebuild begins. But, unlike nature, humans must also live with the fear, terror, loss and injury. And that, too, will need time to heal. A long time.

And, unlike nature, we cannot simply accept the devastation without the questions why? and how? Why did it happen and how can we better control it next time?

Two days later...

Confirmed dead has risen to 181 and is expected to climb. 1033 homes have been destroyed. The shock has started to subside and the debates have started: it happened because of climate change/no, it happened because the green movement refused to allow "prescribed burning" in the cooler months. We should amend the stay-or-go bushfire policy/no, we should keep it. 

It's been a exhausting week trying to keep up with the media as it slowly disintegrates into a circus. I try to keep up with the news in an attempt to understand what happened and hopefully do whatever I can to help, but too many opinions start to spew forth, most disconcertedly from non-experts such as Miranda Devine.

Not all help is appreciated either, and mental health workers have been told to keep away. The help may be well-intentioned, but research suggests that immediately after a tragedy is not the time for a professional debriefing session.  

Instead, people need to connect with family and friends and have their basic needs met. At least in that regard, Aussies are on top of it. 

Sources: ABC News online

The Sydney Morning Herald

I'm not racist, but...

All may be quiet on the Pauline Hanson* front right now but ignorance is alive and well in Australia. Not that I doubted that; I was simply reminded of it again during the week. 

On Australia Day, 26 January, a Facebook friend updated her status with, "Happy invasion day to those celebrating." 

And, oh boy, didn't that gee some people up!  

[Note: all quotes are comments made in relation to my friend's status.]

"...the majority [of Aboriginal people] still choose to sniff petrol, drink metho and act like total idiots on the streets of Sydney."

The majority? For some communities petrol sniffing may indeed be a problem. (Not sure about the metho.) It's one of the many issues that confronts modern Aboriginal culture, and it shouldn't be derided. Instead, we should ask: why does it happen in our country? 

Total idiots on the streets of Sydney? Which streets? Not the streets I frequent.

What's that? 

"Times have changed and they gotta stop crying wolf."

Yes, times have changed for Aboriginal people since we arrived and took over. Surely we can understand and respect the effect such a radical adjustment would have, particularly since history paints a rather gloomy picture of how we treated our indigenous culture after we arrived.

Excuse me?

"Get a job and better yourself and your family...today they make their own beds, not us..."

Today they make their own beds, not us? Really? 

Well, as far as I can see a lot of Aboriginal people have made damn fine beds given the obstacles and radical change they've had to face in the past 220 years, and others, well, perhaps they're still trying to get outta the beds we made for 'em when 1) we came here just over 220 years ago and declared the land terra nullius, with total disregard for a way of life and culture we deemed backward and uncivilised, 2) round 'em up to put on reserves as though they were a pack of animals we could herd, contain and control, and 3) for a period of over 100 years, stole their children in the name of 'child protection' even though there was no evidence of abuse or neglect.

This last atrocity is now known as the Stolen Generation and the impact it had, and continues to have, on Aboriginal people, is well documented in the Bringing Them Home Report (April, 1997). The report recommended a National Sorry Day be held each year on 26 May, "to commemorate the history of the forcible removals and its effects".**

"I will not say sorry for something I didn't do and I believe no-one has the right to say sorry for me. ...and not wanting to say sorry is not racist. It is my right!"

Strange, an insistence on 'rights' from someone who has probably always taken them for granted. Is she aware that Aboriginal people didn't even have the right to vote until 1967, 179 years after we claimed their land for our own?

"I just don't believe that if I personally didn't do something that I should have to say sorry or Rudd should do it on behalf of all Australians. If the government decide that they should say sorry then it should be on the behalf of the government and not the Australian people!"

The Australian people elect the government, so everything it does is done on behalf of the Australian people, whether we agree with it or not. I had to sit back and watch as our former PM made decisions in the name of the Australian people that I was ashamed of. 

Now I'm not so ashamed and, rather, was particularly proud when the present government made a belated apology on 13 February 2008 to those who suffered as part of the Stolen Generation. It was the first time in years that I felt happy to call myself an Australian. 

"...we are a different generation and generations of the pasts are just that..." 

Generations of the past? And whom would they be? Many of the people who experienced the Stolen Generation atrocity are alive and kickin' today, and the patriarchal creed 'get over it and get on with it' doesn't cut the mustard. We still celebrate Anzac Day every year even though the last Anzac died in 2002. Lest we forget.

In the same spirit – lest we forget – I support the suggestion that National Sorry Day, 26 May, be made a public holiday. A public holiday in recognition of the apology and as a reminder that sorry is just the start. The start of a future whereby Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians can move forward in the spirit of forgiveness and respect. The first step: to listen. Perhaps then we can get a better idea of how we can help, rather than condemn...

...and begin to put the whole sorry business behind us.

* An Australian politician and founder of the One Nation Party in 1997. She resigned as leader in 2002 and subsequently spent time in prison after she was found guilty of fraud. The charge was later quashed on appeal. During her time in the political spotlight, Pauline was accused of being racist, which she denied. However, she would often  make off the cuff comments without much forethought. She believed Asians would take over Australia and Aboriginal people were not disadvantaged (despite the evidence).

** National Sorry Day Committee, www.nsdc.org.au