Australia Day and the beach

There’s nothing much planned here for Australia Day (aka Invasion Day) except a trip to the (doggie) beach and an evening neighbourhood gathering at a local park. You won’t find much flag-wearing/waving, lamb eating, dunny-racing, gumboot-tossing fervour in this essay, probably because I am among the 16% of Australians who think a national day of commemoration is unnecessary. (Robbie Burns’ birthday (today) being the exception to the rule – Ed). The headline item in a…

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Speed dating with Stan

Sometime in December, I signed up for a one-month free trial with a streaming service, just to see how it measured up. A week later I was telling a young friend, “I’ve been speed dating Stan.” He gave me that WTF look 30-somethings sometimes give their elders: “It’s called binge-watching, Dude.” And so it is. If you succumb to the marvels of being able to stream TV drama to your mobile phone, iPad, laptop and…

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Our Australian day of shame

We were on the road somewhere outside Sydney when a hotted-up Mazda zoomed up next to us at the lights, twin cams throbbing. From each rear window protruded an Australian flag, fluttering like when you accidently shut your frock in the door. We sat there, waiting for the green, making cynical old fart, iconoclastic noises about faux patriotism, Bogans and drivers who just cannot sit behind a caravan. Meanwhile, Australia Day has come and gone;…

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