Dominate the pacem

I just ate almost an entire tin of mints. The tin looks like an old Nintendo controller and the mints taste like chalk. For some reason the appearance of the tin made me feel reassured about the distinctly un-minty taste of these mints. Nintendo would never lend itself to something harmful.

I feel slightly ill now and have a dull headache.

There is one mint lying in the streaked white powder at the bottom of the tin. I can see fingerprints where I have plucked a mint, oh hell, where I plucked two or sometimes three mints at the same time. My fingertips feel dusty.

I remember reading somewhere that mint helps you concentrate and that classical music makes you smarter. I feel wired and clamp on my headphones and play Symphony No. 1 ‘Da Pacem Domine’ by the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra.

By the end of the day I will be some kind of genius, I am sure.

I remember a drunken night when I lived in Canberra, when an unhinged man punched someone in the face and amongst the screams and shouts that carried in the night sky, fell a tooth. I remembered that you can save a tooth if you put it in milk and cover it with foil.

I searched for the tooth amongst the gravel and grit and found it. My fingertips felt dusty.

The hospital was called, a dental surgeon was on-call and would be waiting to receive this man and the cool vessel which contained what was once pride of place at the front of his mouth. The crowd drifted away into the cool night and someone turned to me and asked, ‘How did you know? How did you know how to save the tooth?’

I began my walk home, on a poorly lit path that ran alongside a sinister pine forest. I called back over my shoulder, the cool air the vessel for the answer to the question everyone now wanted to know, the answer which would save this man his smile, his pride.

‘Mal Meninga said it in the Daily Tele once.’.

The Boss.

On Monday night, I went with some of my best ladyfriends to see Bruce Springsteen.

My journey with Bruce started about five years ago, when I bought a box-set of his greatest hits. At that stage I mostly liked the big stadium hits like ‘Born in the USA’ and ‘Dancing in the Dark’.

About two years ago, I discovered Nebraska in a big bad way and suddenly I understood his music completely differently. For me it makes me feel alone, even in a crowd, or like sitting on a porch having a cigarette late at night and everything is impossibly silent, even in the middle of the city.

He became an obsession for a lot of us, the soundtrack to the road trip I went on the the US in 2011 and when he announced a tour here a group of us made a pact to buy the best tickets we could, regardless of the price.

And then we waited months and months for the big night.









I’m terrible at reviewing live music, but it was an amazing show, not perfect, but one of those ones that makes you feel like life is just beginning, and leaves you melancholic for a few days afterwards, when the carnival leaves town.

Billy Boy!

I found this old entry in a blog I used to keep back in the day. Bill was part-beagle, part-spaniel, 100% awesome.

Please ignore all spelling errors. I was in my early 20s when I wrote this and apparently had no idea how to use spell check.