The Banal Chew

Gelukkig Nieuwjaar!

We're off to camp at Tropical Fruits for a few days to relax and party. 

I hope everyone has a wonderful turn of the year!  Be safe and enjoy!

See you next week.

Oh no really, help yourself!

New Year's Resolution #7:

Teach these kitties some table manners.

Questions and Answers

Boxing Day is a major public holiday in Australia, among other places.  We don't have this holiday in the U.S.  It is based on a centuries-old tradition of employers giving Christmas boxes to their employees...or receiving said gifts, depending on your fortune. 

To my knowledge, this tradition isn't honored anymore in Australia, but they certainly make use of the holiday.  Everything, aside from a handful of major department stores across the country, basic necessities and a few over-crowded restaurants, shuts down for the day.  So, coupled with Christmas Day, we have two days of nearly complete shut-down.  If, for example, you find yourself having forgotten to buy a carton of whipping cream, you'd better pray to Saint Someone that you'll be able to find an open supermarket.

The weather is pretty awesome today, thus far anyway.  After taking Roger for a nice morning walk, I went to late breakfast with Deano, Blair, Aron and James at one of the aforementioned, painfully scarce open local cafes.  They all bundled into a car and headed for the beach while I came back home to do a little work.  (Remember, there's no Boxing Day holiday in the U.S., and since my p/t job as a medical lexicographer is for a U.S.-based company, that means no free day for me...nor any employer presents.)

Sydney has had a comparatively cool and rainy summer so far.  Fortunately, the rain is also falling in the catchment areas...good news for the overall drought conditions.  Does everyone know that Australia is firmly in the grip of the worst countrywide drought in nearly a century, and well over a century in some individual regions?  No global warming, eh?

Anyway, all the recent rain has made Sydney the greenest many have seen in it in many years.  I took a few photos of our immediate neighborhood as I walked to and from the restaurant.  I love our area and will miss it dearly when I do have to move.

As I made the trek home, I walked past a car bearing an advertising logo that seemed to have special meaning today.  I think we should always celebrate what we have now. 

Yes, there's a lot of grief and drama in the world, both at home and away, but I always want to realize a lion's share of the enjoyment I experience in my own life is based on my friendships.  I am lucky in many ways.  I don't need gifts from my employer to recognize the benefit of holidays.  Although I wouldn't kick a healthy year-end bonus out of bed.

--------------------------------------

As Brian says in his blog header:
Happy whatever the hell you celebrate!

Don't ask about my Christmas.

--------------------------------------

Answers to Friday's Flashback Quiz:

1. B
2. E
3. H
4. I
5. J
6. A
7. C
8. G
9. F
10. D

Love, Joy, Pie & Spew

What interesting days the last couple have been.

We have a houseful, what with Zane's mum in town for the holidays.  We've all been busy as beavers getting our last-minute shopping done and gathering items/foodstuffs for the lunch we are hosting on Christmas Day.

Mark and I had about $150 in David Jones gift certificates burning a hole in our pockets, so we braved the crowds at Bondi Junction yesterday and took some time to go shopping for ourselves, something we hardly ever do.

We looked at clothing first, as I'd like a new pair of low-sitting boot-cut jeans for the New Year's Eve party up in Lismore that a bunch of us are going to, but I abso-friggin'-lutely refuse to pay Australian prices for them.  (For my U.S. readers, can you believe they want $90 for a pair of basic Wranglers?!  Not that I'd wear Wranglers, but it gives you an idea of the mark-ups on this big island continent.  You should see how much they want for Luckys.)  I should have bought some in the U.S. while I was just there, but I was too busy shopping for Mark and Zane and simply ran out of time.  Ah well, I'll manage.

We ended up buying practical stuff from the homewares section, eg, a heavy-duty grill brush, kitchen scale and a flash fogless mirror for the shower.  We also looked at some new blinds for our townhouse.  We really have to get rid of these heavy, dark wooden ones that we inherited when we bought the place.  Some day.

From the David Jones Foodhall (which is amazing), we bought some cheeses and gourmet sausages for our Christmas BBQ.  Oh, and some Crisco shortening, which is bloody hard to find in Sydney, and for which I paid way too much money but needed for the homemade pies I am making.  Yes, for the pies, you skanky gutter-brains who just giggled pruriently. <typed with love>

Speaking of those pies, I just pulled them out of the oven, one pumpkin and one apple.  I had a minor panic attack, as the crust I made was a bit tender and fragile, what with the heat and humidity...even after refrigeration, but I took the ol' where-there's-a will-there's-a-way approach and  made it work.  We'll see how they turned out at tomorrow's lunch, but they don't look half bad.

Mark's mother came over last night and had a sleepover, too.  Little did we know she had awakened in the middle of the night, sick as a dog, repeatedly emptying the contents of her stomach and feebly calling out to us for help.  Our bedroom is two floors up from the living room, where she always insists on sleeping when she stays over, and with the door closed and our heavy sleeping habits, there was no way we could hear her.  Poor thing didn't have the strength to climb all those stairs, so she waited until Zane, only one floor up, got up for a wee around 6:00am and called to him to come fetch us.  Mark immediately took her to the emergency room, and it seems she has picked up a nasty stomach virus.  She's better now, thankfully, resting at Mark's sister's home in Wollongong.

To top it off, a couple of hours ago the neighbors behind us began screaming at each other in one of the worst domestic arguments I've heard.  Their dog started growling and barking viciously, too, and I actually thought it was attacking someone or something (like our cat, Bonnee, who is getting increasingly braver and worrying us all that she'll actually work up the nerve to jump off our 8-foot back wall).  I freaked out, imagining Bonnee being gruesomely dissected by the dog.  Mark nearly had to work some of Cher's Moonstruck magic on me to get me to snap out of it.  Anyway, the neighbors burned themselves out within a few minutes, and a Valium later, I felt the warm glow of palliative mental relief. 

It just wouldn't be the holidays without a little stress and strain, now would it?

Flashback Friday

Boys and girls, we haven't had a pop quiz for a while. 
Get out your pencils and tie on your thinking caps!

Match the quotations with the correct U.S. President or Vice-President. 
(No fair Googling!  Answers on Tuesday.)

 

1. It is wonderful to be back here in the great state of Chicago.
2. I favor the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and it must be enforced at gunpoint, if necessary.
3. I hope I stand for anti-bigotry, anti-Semitism, anti-racism.
4. I want real loyalty. I want someone who will kiss my ass in Macy's window and say it smells like roses.
5. There will be no whitewash in the White House.
6. Always be sincere, even if you don't mean it.
7. It's clearly a budget; it's got a lot of numbers in it.
8. A zebra does not change its spots.
9. If Lincoln was alive today, he'd roll over in his grave.
10. You know, if I were a single man, I might ask that mummy out. That's a good-looking mummy.

A. Harry S. Truman
B. Dan Quayle
C. George W. Bush
D. Bill Clinton
E. Ronald Reagan
F. Gerald R. Ford
G. Al Gore
H. George H. W. Bush
I. Lyndon B. Johnson
J. Richard Nixon

Live and Misgive

I'm sickened. 

This from a resident of Camden NSW (a bedroom community in Sydney's far southwest), in response to a proposal to build a 1200-student Islamic school in the rural enclave:   

If it does get approved, every ragger that walks up the street is going to get smashed up the arse by about 30 Aussies.  (source here)

If that's not offensive enough, consider the fact that currently in Camden there are the Macarthur Anglican School, St. Paul's Catholic Primary School and Mater Dei Catholic Co-educational School.  To my knowledge, no one raised objections to them when they were founded, the Anglican School as recently as 1984. 

Last month, someone dumped a number of severed pig heads on the site of the proposed school. 

Of the thousands of angry Camden residents, some raise (scapegoat) claims of overdevelopment and inappropriateness, the former due to the very rural setting and the latter to the lack of a substantial Islamic neighborhood in Camden itself.  Most critics of the dissenters agree it is really underlying racism and bigotry fueling the outcry.

We have a word for this in the U.S., nimbyism.  Actually, it's more of an acronym:

Not
In
My
Back-
Yard

I hated the attitude there, and as an outsider here (albeit extremely Anglo in appearance and therefore with a comparatively easier time acclimating), I hate it even more in Australia.  It's the age-old fear of difference raising its wretched head.

What is it with humankind?

Budgees be damned

I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I just watched the aussieBum "fashion parade" on the Kerri-Anne Kennerly show. 

Sean Ashby, the man behind aussieBum, experienced one of those fabelhaft rags to riches stories.  Destitute and unemployed a number of years ago, he sank every penny he had into creating a new line of undergear and was invited on Kerri-Anne's show to introduce his products.  A million or so in the bank later, he's humble and offered his deep gratitude to her on the show today.  I wonder how many folks took their eyes off the models long enough to catch that story. 

I didn't know that the, um, technology behind the undies is similar to that of the Wonder Bra...lift and separate!  Okay, maybe not "separate" (ouch), but definitely lift and push out...so much so that I'm surprised they didn't pixelate the crotch close-ups during the modeling.  They would have in the U.S., no doubt.

At any rate, you'll not see my hairy, flabby corpus sporting these tiny togs anytime soon.  Just run a Google image search on the brand and see how many "average" blokes you see.  I know, sex sells and the majority rules.  But marketers need to remember that there are some of us out there who don't only find the über-Anglo, waxed, sculpted and 20-somethings sexy.

There are so many gay Aussie blogs that feature ubiquitous pictures of aussieBum undies and swimwear that I decided only to include a couple of my favorites...that is until Ben Cohen decides to model the products.

Culture Shlock

From Wikipedia:

Intercultural competence is the ability of successful communication with people of other cultures. This ability can exist in someone at a young age, or may be developed and improved due to willpower and competence. The bases for a successful intercultural communication are emotional competence, together with intercultural sensitivity.

Interculturally competent is a person who captures and understands, in interaction with people from foreign cultures, their specific concepts in perception, thinking, feeling and acting. Earlier experiences are considered, free from prejudices; there is an interest and motivation to continue learning.

I'm stuck.  Finding my place in this world is no easy task.

When I first arrived back in the U.S. a few weeks ago, the first thing that struck me was an overwhelming sense of my own intercultural incompetence...with people of my own homeland.  I remember in particular sitting in the Ontario (California) airport, waiting to board a flight to the Midwest, and listening to a loud woman with big hips and hair explaining to her husband...in the minutest of details...how the cashier at Hudson's bookshop had shorted her 10 cents, and how she had to stand and give the dispassionate teenager a math lesson, in order to get back her correct change.  It was like Seinfeld from hell.

On the flight back to Sydney I sat next to a really nice man from Brisbane, roughly my age and also parent to a 10-year-old.  We had some great conversation, that is before the Valium took effect and I went down like a sack of dirt.  Anyway, when he found out that Mark and I are same-sex partners and parents, he didn't bat an eye.  In fact, he thought it was fantastic and said (to him) it doesn't matter if you're black, white, gay or straight.  We're all in this together and trying to achieve what's best for our children and for each other. 

One thing he asked me is why Americans (U.S. ones, that is) are so closed-minded and wrapped up in their own immediate surroundings.  I didn't have a good answer, but then I'm not a sociologist.  My best guess was that it's difficult for many Americans to look past their front yard, simply because global issues are not targeted in the media.  While I was in the U.S., I was starved for world news.  I would tune into CNN, but they only have the periodic 2 or 3-minute segment on world news.  I had to log on to the Internet to find out was was happening with the Australian election.  The other guess I gave him was that the U.S. has such a relatively large population that it's easy for folks to lock themselves away.  The impact of explosive commerce cannot be overlooked either.  With a Starbucks, McDonalds, Home Depot and Wal-Mart within nearly every 10-block radius nowadays, people don't need to stray too far from home for anything...physically or mentally.  Scary.

So we're left with some questions.

Why do so many people from the U.S. insist on

1. being so loud,
2. complaining about everything,
3. thinking first that everyone else is wrong,
4. locking themselves in their own little worlds, and
5. miring themselves in the inane?

Now before you rush to flame me, understand that I try very hard to resist the urge to paint everyone with the same brush.  What I recounted at the Ontario airport was a fairly initial impression that I gained shortly after arriving back in the country.  Unfortunately, subsequent experiences led me to the same questions.  I did, however, find a lot to celebrate.  I'm not anti-American; I'm simply pro-Global.

D & G

Despite how good it is to be in Sydney again, I'm feeling down today. 

It's probably a mix of things, including some really intense jet-lag combined with a substantial amount of general fatigue.  Plus, I'm now broke as a peg-legged hobo.  Some job had better come through; that's all I can say.

Not much else to write...just that I'm back safely.

Hurry up and wait

The situation with the "national" U.S. train system is dire. I was scheduled to leave the Palm Springs station for LA Union Station at 6:37 a.m.  The train finally rolled into the train station at 8:51.  It was around 45 degrees and there was no indoor waiting room.  Shameful.

The train lumbered toward Los Angeles at something much worse than a snail's pace.  Because this route shares the Union Pacific freight line, there were frequent stoppages while we waited for the high-priority cargo trains to clear the tracks...a signpost of a commerce-driven society.   We finally arrived at Los Angeles Union Station at 12:30pm, nearly 2 and half hours late.  Then I had to catch the 45-minute Flyaway bus from Union Station to the LA airport. I finally arrived at LAX at nearly 2 p.m.  Mind you, it takes roughly an hour and a half to drive from Palm Springs to LAX.  I learned my lesson.  Thankfully, I have an evening flight. 

The Palm Springs Amtrak station is located in the middle of nowhere the San Gorgonio Pass Wind Farm.  It's a fairly impressive landscape.

One final day

My last day in the U.S. for a while.  It's been a good one.

I met up with my good friend, M*, for a coffee this afternoon, and we had a nice long chat.  It was just like old times, discussing life, relationships...and now parenting!  I met M while I was living in Tucson about five years ago.  He was visiting from Germany, having quit his job there and spending a number of months sojourning throughout the U.S.  We struck up a friendship, and soon thereafter he met his current partner at roughly the same time I met Mark.  M and his partner have been together in Palm Springs ever since.  Before they met, M's partner had fathered twin girls via surrogacy.  So M was an instant stepfather, just like I was with Zane.  It is great to sit and chat about the joys and vagaries of international relationships and how great it is to be parents. 

*I'm protecting names for now, as M is only weeks away from getting his green card, and I don't want to risk anything getting in the way of that.  So no pictures either, although I took a really great one of him.  Let's just say he's a handsome one. 

This evening, a very exciting thing happened.  I had dinner with Kim, a former high-school friend of mine who now lives in the greater Palm Springs area.  Kim and I were part of a larger group of kids known as, for lack of a more creative moniker, the Gang.  (Pam was also a member of that group.)  It was swell reconnecting with Kim after all these years.  Like me, she's been a lot of places and done many things.  She seems happy and healthy.  I really hope we are able to keep in touch.

Tomorrow, I board a train, bus and two planes to eke my way back to Sydney.  I'm not looking forward to the journey, but I sure can't wait to see my hubby and boy again.  Not to mention all my friends, too.  It has been a terrific visit.  I have had the chance to, among other things, interview for a (potentially) wonderful job, spend my dad's birthday with him, be with my (not so) little brothers, reconnect with old friends and revisit old haunts.  It has been reaffirming and restorative, but I'm ready to be with my Australian family and friends again.  I'm a lucky man to have so many good people in my life, and in so many different places. 

Adios, Tucson

I'm leaving the Arizona desert in a few hours.  It's been a great visit.  Tucson will always be a special place to me. 

Homer's annual Holiday Party last night was good fun.  I met a number of swell guys, including a few Southwestern bloggers.  What a treat. 

Cobban, Homer, Brian, Sandy, Frank, Jim  (l to r)

Frank and Cobban horsing around.  (Frank actually picked me all the way up for a different photo.  He must be a strong man, considering how much food I've eaten this trip and how little exercise I've gotten to boot.)

Decorating cookies was also a great time.  Many of us got über-creative.  I didn't know I had it in me.  I wonder if others did.

Next up is a couple more days with friends in Palm Springs and then it's back to Sydney.  I am looking forward to seeing Mark, Zane, Roger and the kitties again. 

The Old Haunts

Two and a half weeks into my 2007 winter journey to the U.S., and I'm now in Tucson.  I lived in the Old Pueblo for a total of seven years while in various stages of graduate school. 

Like the desert seems to be for many others tired of frenzy and searching for solace, Tucson first served as a transitional place to drop out and regroup.  That was in 1995.  I moved here with my former partner from Washington DC, where I had worked in a 50+ hour a week job and was busy nearly every night of the week with singing gigs.  Life was crazed, and when my ex was accepted in graduate school at the University of Arizona, I decided to come with him.  I also decided to return for more schooling, and explored the idea of gaining post-Bacc teaching certification in theatre education and German studies. 

A year into the program, my advisors convinced me that, while I would make a good teacher, they could tell that my heart was in performance and encouraged me to consider an M.F.A. in acting.  Although I had had early designs to become a professional actor but turned to music at the very last minute for my undergraduate degree, the nagging voice of realism screamed to me that the last thing I needed was yet another performance degree.  So while my ex decided to extend our Tucson stay for a few more years, in order to get his doctorate, I got a job as Data Manager at the Southern Arizona AIDS Foundation and worked as much as possible as a singer.

As I neared 35, I soon discovered that it was harder and harder for me to continue to split my focus between music and whatever other breadwinning job I had.  I loved working for SAAF, but I needed to move on with what I was intended to do...work in music full time. 

By this time, I had gained extensive experience as a singer, both as soloist and ensemble artist, so I decided that it was a natural progression to return to university and get a graduate degree in conducting.  I was ready to share what I'd learned and experienced with others.  A year and half later, I completed a Masters in Music, at which time my ex was offered a job at the University of Vermont.  I followed again, and once again I found myself splitting my energies between music and another job.  A few failed attempts at gaining a choral conducting position at various colleges taught me that in order to get a tenure-track job, I really had to return for my doctorate in music.  I chose to return to Tucson and do just that.

Those latter three years in Tucson changed my life.  I turned 40, grew by leaps and bounds professionally, formed some wonderful friendships, completed my doctorate (except for the document, which I finished after moving to Sydney), and most importantly I met Mark. 

Two of the friends I made during my doctoral studies in Tucson were Lani and Homer.

Lani was a fellow choral grad student, and like me, returning for her terminal degrees later in life.  We've become great friends, and I enjoyed visiting with her this trip.  She and her husband live in a beautiful home in eastern Tucson.  Their yard is full of textbook examples of the wonderfully strange flora that thrive in the Sonoran Desert.  I couldn't resist taking a few photos.  Unfortunately, the wireless in this coffeeshop is making uploads interminable.  The pictures don't capture the true essence of the plants anyway, but maybe I'll post them in the future.

Currently, I'm staying at Homer's.  He's having his annual holiday-tree and cookie decorating party tonight.  Apparently it will be scaled down from previous years, but I still look forward to meeting some of his many friends! 

R&R

Well, after two weeks of shuffling from guestbed to guestbed with various friends and family, I decided I needed some time to myself.  [NOTE: No offense is intended to any of you with whom I've stayed over the past couple of weeks and who might be reading this post.]  I'm the kind of person who needs a day or two of solitude now and again to chill, be quiet and reenergize. 

After leaving my mom's place in the Kansas City area, I flew to Arizona and found a nice, fairly inexpensive hotel in Phoenix and booked myself in for a couple of nights.  The place was fairly unoccupied, so I had the pool and big jacuzzi to myself.  I lived in the desert for seven years on and off, and I never tire of how wonderful it feels to sit in a hot spa in the chilly winter desert air.  It was just what the doctor ordered, this doctor that is.  I am Dr. Glass after all.  I have to keep reminding myself.  And I must admit it felt very strange when folks called me that during my recent interview.

In order to keep myself from being a total recluse and to continue my outreach to fellow bloggers, I contacted Brian to see if he had any time and inclination to meet up while I was in town.  Well, he did!  Not only that, but he took me to one of his favorite Middle Eastern restaurants for dinner last night.  Swell guy.  As it turns out, I'll also see him on Saturday night at the party Homer is throwing in Tucson.

Tonight I'm staying at the home of my good friend and colleague, Lani, and her husband in the far eastern outskirts of Tucson.  I hope I see some critters.  It would be good fodder for the next (overdue) Critter Matters Gabcast!

Trippin'

It's the 1st of December (in the U.S.), and I'm halfway through my journey back "home."

The first week was a blur, what with the jet-lag, culture shock and tryptophan.  Then there were the two days of non-stop meetings, meals, rehearsals and teaching demonstrations during my interview. 

All I can say is thank you Jesus for the "Teaching Music in Higher Education" course that formed part of the curriculum of my doctoral studies.  While you can never predict the myriad nuances of the academic interview process, considering the assorted personalities and expectations of the individual committee members, the course prepared me well for much of the process I was to encounter during those two days.  It was a positive experience, and whatever the outcome, I'm happy to have gone through it.

Currently, I'm in Fayetteville, Arkansas.  Today is my father's 67th birthday.  It's been a long, long time since I've been anywhere near his zipcode on his birthday.  I'm happy to spend the day with him.  I do wish he'd get high-speed internet, however.  While the folks at this downtown coffeeshop have some great food and coffee, I wonder if they are beginning to grow weary of me sapping their bandwidth.

A high point was stopping over for dinner with my high-school friend, Pam (and her husband Lee & two beautiful daughters) on my drive south from the Kansas City airport to Fayetteville. Pam and I had lost touch for many years, both focused on etching our marks on life and fiercely devoted to our crafts, hers acting and mine music.  A few years ago we reconnected and have grown close again.  I couldn't be happier about that.