Thursday, November 5, 2020

Beyond a joke – surviving troubled times

We live in troubled times – but then can anyone ever say that they lived in times that weren’t troubled? For most of my life Australia has suffered mediocre politicians and politics – with the odd brief exceptions – and it seems our current times are no different. Australia has never really managed to realise its potential. As a nation it seems to be two different countries going in opposite directions – one into the future and the other into the past. It looks as though we’ll be mired in this latest stretch of mediocrity for some time and the only consolation will be creativity, gardens and humour.

A land of bushfires and choking smoke, drought and floods – and plague
Over the last 12 months we have endured bushfires and choking smoke, plague, drought and floods. Australia’s creativity and culture and the whole creative sector have been hammered and it will be the last thing to recover as we move into the new post-pandemic world. At times like this there are a few things you can rely on for consolation – the pleasure of creativity and gardens and the distractions of humour.

Fire-ravaged landscape in the Snowy Mountains.

Over the last decade I seem to have spent most of my writing career producing articles about Australian creativity and culture. Lately some of it has been a bit grim, given the way the current Coalition Government has largely abandoned the creative sector and the higher education sector. Together they comprise much of the clean and clever economy which should underpin a bright global future for Australia. The creative sector has responded to being sidelined by generously sharing a huge amount of advice and experience about how to survive behind enemy lines. Some days I think I should have been an economist, but instead I intend to focus on being a humourist. After all, it’s a bit like those who have written endless reams about Trump in America – at some stage you have to think ‘what more can you say?’ 

Sunday, May 17, 2020

Holed up in the mountains

In a time of pandemic, if you can't be on a small island off another island, then being holed up in the mountains might just be the next best thing. While there are some daily things I miss - coffee sitting down in cafes, a quite drink or meal out - in many ways life in lockdown is not all that different to how I lived before. Perhaps I need to take a closer look at what I really miss.

When Australia’s capital was established it was deliberately tucked away in the mountains, far from the coast and any likely threats, such as a Russian invasion – or possibly undue control from the two warring states of the time, Melbourne and Sydney. A recent walk one morning round the foothills of Mt Majura, on the edge of Canberra, underlined that Canberra is indeed sited amongst the mountains, with views of the looming Brindabella Ranges in the chilly distance.

Brindabella Ranges, looking South from National Arboretum.

Now that we are under siege from a new threat – this time an invisible virus – this location seems somehow apt. If we didn’t have flights of politicians regularly materialising here we’d be insulated from most of the worst aspects of what passes for daily life in the rest of the nation, while still able to remember when we travelled elsewhere and what we liked most.

Saturday, April 25, 2020

Raiding the pantry

A few weeks back I returned from a two and a half week regional road trip through Victoria to Adelaide and Kangaroo Island. When we left, people were being encouraged to visit fire-ravaged regional centres to help boost local economies. By the time we were on the way back everyone was being urged to stay home to help reduce the spread of pestilence. We had heard about hoarding and food shortages and we had seen the empty shelves, usually filled with toilet paper, everywhere we passed. As we headed home, I pondered exactly how long we could survive on what was already in our pantry – how many meals we were already sitting on as a result of routine shopping before that time of hoarding and excess.

A few weeks back my fellow traveller and I returned from a two and a half week regional road trip through Victoria to Adelaide and Kangaroo Island – all the good places, Strathalbyn, Penola, Dunkeld, Daylesford and Beechworth. How the world turns. When we left, people were being encouraged to visit fire-ravaged regional centres to help boost local economies. By the time we were on the way back everyone was being urged to stay home to help reduce the spread of pestilence. My favourite towns all rapidly emptied as we passed though – ghost towns of takeaways and hand sanitiser.

 At Daylesford, Victoria shut down - ghost towns of takeaways and hand sanitiser.

We had heard about hoarding and food shortages and we had seen the empty shelves, usually filled with toilet paper, everywhere we passed. One commentator asked if we were facing a coronavirus – or a moronavirus. As we headed home, I pondered exactly how long we could survive on what was already in our pantry – how many meals we were already sitting as a result of routine shopping before that time of hoarding and excess. Supplemented with what was still alive in the tiny vegetable garden, who knew how long we could survive.