Email to:In Praise Of The Self-Taught
STOP PRESS!
****ON LOCATION ON LOCATION ON LOCATION ON LOCATION****
THERE’S A NEW (INTERACTIVE!) THE GINGER MAN ADVENTURE UNFOLDING IN LEETON. THE ACTION IS UNDERWAY IN THE COMMENTS SECTION.
ASTOUNDING! UNMISSABLE! (These pics? Appetite whetters….KJ)
ON LOCATION Trailer: cr: garethjmsaunders:flickr
Road near Leeton (Western?) cr:iBASECAMP:flickr
Road near Whitton (Mystery?) cr: yewenyi:flickr
Thriller? cr:yewenyi: flickr
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Heart warming stories from another time……to make you feel better when you go broke and have to be self-reliant (and you surely will) some time this year…..
Hec (1914-1997) like millions of bright working-class men back then, had a far more impressive skills set than the monied twerps who spent their time at universities pushing each other’s head down toilets and anally smoking cigarettes.
Just for starters, Hec was a SELF-TAUGHT RAAF navigator in the Pacific. He never talked about it. But Gwennie told me that in fitful, sweaty sleeps, he’d yell: Shit, SHIT, we’ve just lobbed a big one on DARWIN….shit, shit….Hail Mary full of grace….(or words to that effect).
And Gwennie knew how to calm things down - she’d just nuzzle in, all the while whispering: But it wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your fault – afterall, you were SELF-TAUGHT…..
Try Do! Cr: vaedri1: fkickr
Hec was also a brilliant SELF-TAUGHT master of the art of deaf signing. It was part of his skills cluster long before access and equity had ever been invented. His original aim? To get to know his deaf St Joseph’s Primary School classmate, Kevin Watson.
Decades later, they were still at it.
There we’d be in Mass - Hec’s five lovely girls BEHAVING ourselves. And there HE was….turning his back on The Sacrament, eyeballing Mr Watson across the aisle. Both signing wildly with big grins on their faces. The nature of the communications would forever remain secret….
But, it was in the field of blood sports, that Hec’s SELF-TAUGHT skills surpassed all other. He was a duck shooter extraordinaire. I was only rarely allowed to share quality blood sport time at Tuckerbill or Fivebough Swamps. On one such occasion, Hec was shooting, shooting, SHOOTING – with NO results. Suddenly he turned to me:
It’s your bloody red jumper KJ……it’s makin’ the ducks crazy. I can’t get a fix on them…..
And so, I spent the remainder of that day’s quality blood sport time out of sight, wedged in the hollow of a gum tree. It was raining ducks all around me. Our gun-dog Cobber (cocker spaniel, plushest paws in town) occasionally checked in to see if I was all right. A couple of face licks and then it was back to work….
***Gwennie told me that if ever I talked about Hec and duck shooting, could I please make sure to pass this info on: she was not a supporter. She wasn’t and so I am…..
Quite the contrary, Gwennie is a self-taught flora and fauna lover. BUT (she probably would like me to pass this on as well) DON’T get the impression she’s ever voted Green……
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So….under discussion? Our experiences of the self-taught……I’ll throw in mine after you get the ball rolling…..Is self-taught more fulfilling than having some smartarse TELL you what’s what? Have there been balls-ups in your self-taught endeavours? Does putting together an IKEA wardrobe count as self-taught acumen? Is the Geriatric Chick Magnet a great example of the self-taught genre? Anything else?
….first time self-taught posters DON’T be shy…..
Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the ‘website’ space – not necessary!
Prawn Cutlet Award
March 2nd, 2009 at 12:41 pm
You can’t teach a man how to marry
Nor can you teach him to die
Top-down teaching just isn’t working
From here to the sweet bye and bye.
You cannot teach him to be generous
How to give, to love or drink and to sing
It must come through personal effort
Not HECS but Hec’s kind of thing.
March 2nd, 2009 at 4:01 pm
Heartfelt thanks to our poet-in-residence. There’s not a dry eye in this house….KJ
Roma Street, you’d be well aware that Fivebough Swamp (in line with Gwennie’s thinking) is now a highly protected bird watchers’ paradise?
March 3rd, 2009 at 7:38 am
While “studying” to become a teacher, I fell in with a group of self-taught drinkers.
In no time at all, their skills had rubbed off on me and I found myself in the winning boat race (drinking competition) team.
We were so good we knocked off the kegs and had to finish the day at The Turvey Tavern (Wagga).
I also attended lectures infrequently, finding out about lecturers (and assignments) in a haphazard manner.
The comment on one was: Meg, if you attended lectures you would be aware of my name. A+.
Self-taught.
Now if my class did that……….
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:04 am
Dear Megsy,
Were you a beneficiary of Mr Whitlam’s tertiary education ‘open door’ policy?
I’m not sure he had the likes of you in mind…….
KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:05 am
Hello all,
I’m a self-taught SLOB – with high standards!
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:27 am
Meg,
Gotta say it: your posts never fail to provide a Stimulatin’ Package.
Your latest made me wonder if there is a National Association of Self-Taught Drinkers….
Second thought: Why do people call getting off their faces getting high?
If so, they should Come Down From There Immediately!
You never disappoint, Megsy.
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:33 am
I am a self-taught psychic.
I always know what to say to a woman:
What’s ya name?
None of ya business! KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:42 am
When I was a gung-ho News Ltd reporter, I discovered that Rupert Murdoch is a self-taught housekeeper.
I always knew when he had visited during the night because everything on all desks had been binned.
Every desk was bare and shining like Peter Garrett’s skull.
Fascinating! Sure it wasn’t Rupert’s way of saying: Your services are NO longer required? KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 11:51 am
KJ – Yes, I’m aware of that landmark’s elevated status in the world of twitchery.
If you’d told me during my Leeton heyday that people would one day flock from all over Australia and the world to hang around at Fivebough Swamp, I would have said you were a very poor man’s Nostradamus.
There is a very interesting dwelling fairly near the swamp which warrants a viewing in its own right, in the form of a two-storey New England-type house of the type familiar to us from the movies.
It was built (my information may be faulty here) by a prominent local musician.
Hello there Roma Street,
I know the residence you’re talking about….BLOODY BIG HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE! My info is that is was the dream of a local medico. KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 1:03 pm
Rupert Murdoch is a self-taught housekeeper…..
And to think the ABC let him blather on in the Boyer Lectures……
(Little bit left out here – we don’t wanna a lawsuit, oh no we don’t! KJ)
‘Self-taught’ is a tautology: who else is going to do the job?
However, you may be sufficiently humble to realise that your own ‘deliberations’ may be slightly faulty and to seek guidance from experts in the field – thus avoiding the ‘bombs on Darwin’ scenario.
Also, the mangement is not happy Jan with the lack of gravitas.
March 3rd, 2009 at 1:49 pm
KJ,
It had nothing to do with threat of the sack.
It was just that Rupert believed in a clean desk in a clean office in a clean building of a clean newspaper – in direct contrast to the building’s previous owner, Ezra Norton.
Once the pay office by mistake paid me a copy boy’s salary.
The kid could not understand why he had so much money. But that’s another tale.
March 3rd, 2009 at 2:03 pm
I am a self-taught doona user.
Came downstairs in an act of courage, but I have gone back.
Dear White Knuckle – you are self-medicating with a doona…..
Come down again, come down from there immediately!
KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 2:40 pm
For our troubled friend, White Knuckle….
I’m going back to the doona
(My non-imaginary friend )
For hours of solitary magic
In a paralysis that never ends
I’m going back to the doona….
*If all the birds had doonas they could sleep upon the ground…..
And sleepless birds nowhere could ever be found…..
For they’d be snoozin’ safe without a sound: chirpzzzz, chirpzzz…..
That’s the Tennessee Sleep Walk…..chirpzzzz, chirpzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
March 3rd, 2009 at 2:45 pm
Hi Bill,
Not gravitas but gravatars.
And please note, tidiness was not covered in the Boyer Lectures.
March 3rd, 2009 at 3:05 pm
Thank you TBL,
I hope your words are of some comfort to White Knuckle.
I am worried about him.
Self-medicating with a doona can be a useful short-term strategy in winter.
Not so in the warmer months. I’ve ended up looking like a braised chop…..
** ** I’ve just read (in reference to woman being brought low by a bereavement) that she had the DON’T CARES.
March 3rd, 2009 at 3:29 pm
Yes, KJ.
Those were great years…scholarships that paid all fees, money for accommodation AND a little left over for The Turvey Tavern.
You were, of course, bonded to teach for three years. Never thought I’d make it! Haven’t left yet. A never-ending passing parade of primary school boys with pilots’ licences……all self-taught: Come down immediately!!!!
The Dude…I believe that association is known as Alcoholics Anonymous. Once you reach that stage you have well and truly mastered (A)bsinthe to (Z)Vodka.
Trouble would be in having to attend group meetings – SELF-TAUGHT principles NO longer apply.
My goodness Megsy – Experiments in Socialism can be very dangerous indeed! KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 5:11 pm
Yeah sorry The Dude – I meant cavitus.
You literally types get me every time.
Mental tidiness is the on-going subject of the Boyers. That’s a self-tautology. And KJ what about my comment about Dim Kalton? Surely that’s covered by fair usage.
И далее к социализму!
Fair enough Bill – fair enough! KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 6:16 pm
Perhaps it was a doctor who built the joint, KJ.
In any case, I’m always heartened to see any signs of domiciliary eccentricity in country town building, when 99% of new dwellings seem to be one of two types – either the bloody great big brick veneer, or the outright huge brick veneer.
My all-time favourite Leeton house was the double storey wooden Addams Family job on the avenue opposite Number 2 Oval, but it burned down.
Hello again Roma Street – ya always make me feel HOMELY….
I have a favourite GENRE of Leeton residence – though most examples of it are gone – or have been ‘renoed’ out of contention…..
I speak of the old WC&IC (Water Conservation & Irrigation Commission) houses. Functional, beautiful……
Now everyone…..imagine this.
A long weatherboard home with big verandahs.
The weatherboards extend to the interior walls. High, high ceilings with fans.
Generously proportioned rooms with double-glass doors.
And Yes, there’s pink flamingos etched in them!
Would you like to check out the kitchen? Again, generous proportions. Huge slow combustion stove (I know, I know: how hot would that make the place in an already stinking summer?)
Simple cupboards all the way up the walls and a REAL walk-in panty.
Let’s just pop out to the front yard – just grass and ONE (two max) ghost gum(s).
*You did NOT have to dress up one of Australia’s few true ‘regional styles’ of splendid domestic architecture.
March 3rd, 2009 at 6:23 pm
WK has left the doona for a bath.
Please alert the media.
And Amnesty International? KJ.
March 3rd, 2009 at 6:49 pm
KJ,
Thank you. (No braised chop) A steamed pork bun would be more like it.
The Ginger Man – WHERE ARE YOU? Our dear White Knuckle has a big case of the DON’T CARES. You always manage to come good. Any advice for WK? KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 7:00 pm
I taught myself to drink
Then I taught myself to smoke
I learned myself to play with cards
And talk footy with the blokes.
To talk to girls and learn their mystery.
I was a self-appointed teacher,
And I was just, just turned Three.
March 3rd, 2009 at 7:47 pm
I never learned, no how never
To ever cry or wail
At the tender age of Four years
I was in the county jail.
I am a self-taught guy
I know that I’ll go far…..yesirreebob !
Drinking Granny’s brandy
And driving Daddy’s car.
March 3rd, 2009 at 8:23 pm
How about the SELF-TORTURED?
YES! I would like to think that the self-tortured find succour in here…..KJ
March 3rd, 2009 at 9:03 pm
I have mentioned my horrific history involving plumbing.
Have a look at this.
Some self-taught plumbers in Italy made a mistake:
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/europe/article4899830.ece
March 4th, 2009 at 6:23 am
Hello poor old White Knuckle……
Everyone is relieved – you’ve done your ablutions and now you’re READING! News of the ingestion of a snack or two would be most heartening…..(Hec’s nutritional solution when I got nervy? Go the Egg Flip)
You’re just having a little episode of the DON’T CARES.
…..The Lonely Scholar’s latest musings?
March 4th, 2009 at 9:08 am
Hey KJ Is there any proof in the rumour that you are performing backstage with Big Swifty at the Melbourne Comedy Festival?
March 4th, 2009 at 9:13 am
Hello Greek and loving it…..
I LOVE rumours……
What do ya mean BACKSTAGE?
Haven’t you heard about the big boys from the Myer Music Bowl being in touch?
We’re also talking MOOMBA – BAROOMBA!
March 4th, 2009 at 10:59 am
I have eaten.
Please notify Sixty Minutes.
March 4th, 2009 at 11:11 am
I have had doona therapy, slept, bathed, eaten and come downstairs as an act of courage, but I cannot Go Out There.
Remember the act of Gelato Terrorism at Coogee?
Then we had the frightening missive from The Vermillion Letter, concerning the gastrointestinal effects of consumption of beetroot.
It’s getting worse:
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/03/04/2506809.htm
I CANNOT Go Out There.
March 4th, 2009 at 11:47 am
Have you ever considered becoming a self-taught economist or investor?
http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2009/03/those-brilliant.html
March 4th, 2009 at 3:24 pm
Like every kid in Leeton, I’ve performed at the Roxy Theatre on many occasions…..mainly reciting Hilaire Belloc’s Tarantella in eisteddfords.
However, my most memorable Roxy moment was during a Leeton High School rehearsal of The Summer of the Seventeeth Doll.
I played Olive.
It came time for the fight bit. Roo, played by an ex-boyfriend, knocked me clean into the musicians’ pit. (Roma Street would be pleased)
KJ, no BACKSTAGE acts for you. We’d love to hear about the rehearsals (presuming you’ll have them) as well.
March 4th, 2009 at 4:29 pm
Ex-Leetonite,
Could this be the most dangerous piece of casting in Australian theatrical history?
To cast your real life EX-boyfriend as Roo was madness…….
That ‘big fight’ happens after Olive knocks back his marriage proposal.
Your EX-boyfriend was being forced as Roo to re-live YOUR knockback (NO, I will NEVER again go to the pictures with you….) over and over…….
Your EX should have been assigned to props from the start…….
March 4th, 2009 at 5:49 pm
You’d be aware, KJ, that the Leeton tourist information centre is now located in the absolute plum example of the buildings you are talking about, namely the old Water Conservation & Irrigation Commission manager’s house on Yanco Avenue, right near the Soldiers Club tennis courts.
A delightful structure to house such an important function, but surely too far from the guts of the town. There is a statue outside it which commemorates the cannery women.
Hello again Roma Street – Yes, it’s the jewel! When it was still been used as the WC&IC manager’s residence I think I remember a major buzz around town because a minor Royal was bedding down there for the night. So minor I can’t remember who it was!
There was also a shitfight over where the statue of the cannery lady should be positioned. My two bobs worth? Surely, she should have been put close to the main street near the old cannery site. Then, everyone could have seen her all the time – and fallen in love. She doesn’t belong in the manicured lawns of the BIG HOUSE. KJ
March 4th, 2009 at 6:19 pm
I should have been assigned to make-up!
KJ: Quite! And what was it with Leeton nuns and Tarantella? Their ALL-TIME time eisteddford favourite. What on earth was going on (after hours) at the convent?
Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda? (Sr so-and-so?)
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the spreading
Of the straw for a bedding,
And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,
And the wine that tasted of tar?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
(Under the vine of the dark verandah)
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda, (Sr so-and-so?)
Do you remember an Inn?
March 4th, 2009 at 9:17 pm
Yes, yes, YES!
I have turned on the Television, hoping for Air Crash Investigation.
Nothing on…..
Instead:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xJSey8HRUhU
We’re all gonna die!
Poor old White Knuckle…..so now you’re again able to enjoy a little laugh. Well done you!
Today’s task? – leave the house, go to the corner shop. Count out exact change. KJ
March 5th, 2009 at 2:01 pm
Dear KJ,
The hotpants story encouraged this one…
Picture this….
It’s the 1970’s. Fourth form high school Drama class. Each student has to act out a scene from a groovy contemporary take on a biblical epic (Jesus Christ Superstar type of thing without the singing).
Cutting edge, ‘out-there’ English teacher.
I can see an opportunity – so I select Phillip, the best looking chap in the class to perform one of the scenes – me slave girl, him Pharoah being massaged on the table.
Maybe you can guess what happens next……
On the day of the performance, good-looking Phillip doesn’t show.
A stand-in is needed. Roger, the nerdiest, creepiest, ugliest, acne-covered chap is selected.
What can I do?
Have a sudden attack of nausea and run screaming from the room?
No. I come from a family of stalwarts – whatever happens THE SHOW MUST GO ON.
Roger lies across two desks facing me naked from the waist up, a towel slung across his thighs.
I touch his shoulders, staring intently at the back wall trying to replace his body (at least in my head) with that of Phillip.
It’s not working – at least it’s not working for ME. But it is, it seems, working for Roger.
The teacher’s voice from side stage breaks into the scene. Roger, I think you should roll over onto your stomach.
Thus ended a life destined for the stage.
Dear davo – (she of the electric touch!!!) quite a post, quite a post! I wonder what ever happened to poor Roger. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent himself broke going to New Age massage practitioners. KJ
March 5th, 2009 at 3:56 pm
KJ,
Hec and Kevin Watson were talking footy and urging the priest on as trips had to be made as soon as mass was over to exotic locations such as Coolamon, Grong Grong, Ganmain or God help them, Whitton. (Their canteen ladies were worse than the players)
In the summer months the signing would involve lewd remarks on the pious in the communion line.
More than likely, eh?
Dear Ex-Leetonite – you appear to have inside information of the highest order…. Are you deaf? KJ
March 5th, 2009 at 6:49 pm
Been to the beach.
A Victoria Cross?
White Knuckle – it just so happens that I keep a couple of spare VCs in my special occasions knickers drawer. One coming your way. Well done. KJ.
March 5th, 2009 at 7:29 pm
Earlier in the day……….
On bus.
Girl: Would you like a seat?
WK: I am OK, thanks……
TRANSLATION:I could be your lover were I not married and a Christian. I have not had a bypass. I am fit and about to swim despite the Great Whites. I have just signed a writing contract. Have you ever considered becoming an Emerging Writer?
No question ’bout it, you ARE a man made whole again…..KJ
March 5th, 2009 at 7:57 pm
KJ – yes indeed, the ideal spot for the statue would indeed have been down that Lanham’s/M.I.D (car yard/old rural co-op now shopping centre) end of the main street.
Failing that, in Mountford Park – jewel in the crown of NSW town parks.
Our own verse-speaking coach at Leeton Primary favoured a jaunty little piece called Danse Macabre, teamed with an onomatopaiec thing featuring an anthropomorphised train, the name of which escapes me.
Hello Roma Street,
I have mixed feelings about Mountford Park – it is beautiful BUT also the scene of one of my public disgraces. I intend to speak of this at a later date – when I feel stronger. KJ.
March 5th, 2009 at 10:01 pm
That’s the total teen nightmare davo.
I bet you’re still receiving treatment for it.
I won’t ask how the school interpreted all this.
Shudder.
And KJ, you stop identifying talent. The only talent around here is you.
More gravitas thank you.
Mr O’Slatter….
In our supportive cyber community we have many talented people.
They share a common value:
TALENT IS FOR BURNIN’.
And…..THE GINGER MAN has just reported in – he’s BURNIN’ – here he comes……
March 5th, 2009 at 10:15 pm
Hello and Hi, or Hi and Hello,
I have a Light Meter.
I am ON LOCATION.
More later.
March 5th, 2009 at 10:26 pm
The film is:
The Man Whom God Sued.
I’m supposed to be the star.
KJ…I am suing Mary Magdalene – on the grounds of identity theft…
March 6th, 2009 at 6:23 am
My saviour – TGM – returneth…..
March 6th, 2009 at 6:31 am
Until recently I thought The Great White was from the Barossa Valley.
March 6th, 2009 at 6:52 am
Rang O’Toole who has played the Almighty several times.
Richard Harris unavailable during to a drinking engagement in heaven with Finch who has also died by way of demur.
Similarly Dave Allen.
Trevor Howard is chatting to his brother Leslie somewhere in a Black Hole out there.
They are all Gone with the Booze.
O’Toole said: Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous three hundred times in support of the film but he is reluctant to take the gig because he believes the role of the Creator has been done to death, particularly by Mel Gibson whom he loathes.
Instead, O’Toole says the movie should be called The Ginger Man, and he’s prepared to take the lead provided his trailer is stocked with Absinthe.
What do people think?
Can KJ contact the ABC movie boffins?
I have a light meter and a pocket of dreams, plus Breakfast who is acting very cute in the hope of getting a role and meeting O’Toole.
March 6th, 2009 at 7:11 am
The Big Bang Theory is correct.
Fuse blown.
Horrors in the small hours.
You do not have to go to Afghanistan to be terrified.
Water, gas…boom! = no hot water.
Now electricity and barbecue…boom! = no power.
Must fix because electrician will obviously say:
I CANNOT WORK HERE.
March 6th, 2009 at 7:33 am
I said to O’Toole: Burton would have been marvellous, simply bloody marvellous to coin a phrase unfamiliar to you, but he has karked it too. You have a lot to answer for, Peter Seamas O’Toole, of Connemara/Leeds.
O’Toole said: Perhaps I could play a nun? Always wanted to do that.
Sister Menopausilis of the Sisters of the Divine and Perpetrual Wrath?
O’Toole becomes irrational when he talks about nuns.
He was evacuated from Leeds early in World War II and went to a Catholic School for seven or eight years, where he was implored to become right-handed. (read into the word implored what you will.)
Peter once told me at Trinity:
I used to be scared stiff of the nuns: their whole denial of womanhood—the black dresses and the shaving of the hair—was so horrible, so terrifying.
Of course, that’s all been stopped. They’re sipping gin and tonic in the Dublin pubs now, and a couple of them flashed their pretty ankles at me just the other day…….
Could O’Toole play The Ginger Man?
What do people think of that?
March 6th, 2009 at 10:24 am
ON LOCATION
The Scene: A trailer in a small park in Leeton, New South Wales.
The trailer’s contents: five cases of Absinthe and two Irishmen, The Ginger Man, author and director, and Peter O’Toole, actor, raconteur and champagne aficionado.
The Director and O’Toole are preparing a submission to Film Australia for funding.
They have erased with white out the name Babe from a copied previous successful application and written in The Ginger Man as the title.
TGM has signed as Rory MacAbsinthe.
O’Toole, who is looking slightly worse for wear, has signed under his Irish name: Peadar Seán ó Tuathail.
TGM tosses the addressed envelope to Breakfast the Dog.
Go Post Office, go boy.
Breakfast wags tail, licks O’Toole and departs with a woof.
O’T: Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
TGM: Ready to go. All we have to do is demolish Leeton and build back lots for Bletchley and Trinity and hire a few immigrant Nazis, call girls with imagination, get a Spider Man outfit and that girl, Megsy, to do the ‘Come on Down Immediately’ voiceovers.
O’T: We could still make it religious, you know. I am related to Saint Laurence O’Toole and Tuathal Mac Augaire, King of Leinster and James O’Toole, the American mobster from the Twenties.
TGM: And a sheep shagger from Galway?
O’T: Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
Do we have any film?
TGM: Do you think we want to waste money at this stage?
Have another Absinthe….
O’T: Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
Here we are ON LOCATION. A medical marvel, a filleted actor and The Spy who Never Was. Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous. Must ring Omar and tell him Lawrence of Leeton calling.
March 6th, 2009 at 11:05 am
KJ do I detect that you swing towards the school of the self taught, evidenced in your intro: …more fulfilling than having some smart arse TELL you what’s what?
If you do not show cognitive genius in the Ikea Assembly Test (IKT), KJ your IIKT may merely reflect that your brain cells are now no longer as interested as your bum was on the day you purchased a kit chair in a whimiscal moment.
NO KJ, I have NEVER made a balls up in the area of self tuition. I merely say: Cerebrum, Hippocampus my DARLINGS, please give Fanny THE ANSWER.
March 6th, 2009 at 3:54 pm
Oh TGM!
Thank you for choosing me above Nancy Cartwright to do COME DOWN IMMEDIATELY!
Nancy does have plenty of Scientology pals who would jump at a chance to play God in a film directed by you.
Throw in Peter O’T as a sister of the Divine and Perpetual Wrath, funding by Film Australia and Leeton as the shoot location and MIRACLES WILL HAPPEN…..
Now where’s the contract?
No rehearsals required.
COME DOWN AT ONCE! is also fine by me.
March 6th, 2009 at 5:39 pm
ON LOCATION
Peter and I have had to get a coat hanger and go to the Post Office to recover the application because he has misspelled his name in Irish.
Dear boy, I am a self-taught Gaelic speaker, he confessed.
With my legs on his shoulders, I was able to retrieve the letter along with some money orders which might come in handy, you never know.
More white out and we changed it to the correct monicker,
Peadar Seámus ó Tuathail. (not Peadar Seán ó Tuathail).
Breakfast thought it was lovely, barking and dancing around, and I thought the cops might come, but No.
Back in the trailer for a refreshing Absinthe, I recalled how once he had been in a village pub in Galway when he encountered a lad wearing motorcycle leathers, Nazi Iron Crosses, Thule Society tattoos – the lot.
To top it off the galoot was wearing an imitation Viking helmet with giant cow’s (or bull’s?) horns sticking out.
At the end of the night, O’Toole asked him if he was a local.
He said no, whereupon O’Toole said: Thank heavens, I thought you might be the son of the sheep I shagged here twenty years ago.
I think Peter might be just right for the part of The Ginger Man.
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
Back to the trailer ON LOCATION.
March 6th, 2009 at 6:12 pm
Fixed fuses.
Practical demonstration that you have to turn off BOTH SWITCHES before doing anything.
Otherwise, as I have discovered:
Zzzzzzzzzzpopswizzlezzzzzzbangxxxxxxflashwhrrrrrrzzzzzzzzzzboomfer!
I can, however, work here!
Dear White Knuckle – how’s ya carbon footprint lookin’? KJ
March 6th, 2009 at 10:42 pm
Megsy,
A message from my ON LOCATION Trailer Companion, Peter O’Toole:
A Chara,
It is obvious that it is the intervention of Le Dia, God Himself, that you have agreed to join our splendid cast of strolling players.
I have poured a libation in your honour.
I am charmed beyond belief that you will be soon in our caravanserai of culture in Leeton, ‘Athens of the Bidgee’, to which I am gradually climatising myself in a manner similar to when we shot Lawrence of Arabia.
We’ll settle all the details in the Trailer.
I think the accent should be on COME DOWN…
Your fellow strolling player,
Peter O’Toole.
PS. Any plot/script ideas/drafts most welcome…such as:
A young teacher is tortured by guilt and secret longings…
At the moment we have neither script nor money.
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous!
P O’T.
March 7th, 2009 at 9:40 am
ON LOCATION
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous what a pair of Lawrence of Arabia blue eyes will do even if they were made in 1932.
We have obtained a massive loan from the Cannery Bank of Leeton thanks to a visit by Peter O’Toole, my ON LOCATION trailer companion.
He invited the manageress – a svelte little number – back to the Trailer, and after numerous Absinthe and creme de menthe cocktails she signed a pile of loan documents.
As a result, Leeton awoke this morning to the sound of giant bulldozers tearing down large portions of the town to make way for sound stages and the sets of Bletchley Park and Trinity College.
We have no script and no film, but we have finance – a highly stimulatin’ package that will have Leeton on the go while the rest of Australia goes to hell in a handbasket.
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous said O’Toole as he gave the good sort from the Cannery bank his headress from Lawrence (actually he has hundreds of them, all made in Mumbai).
March 7th, 2009 at 11:59 am
FOR THE ATTENTION OF TGM & MR O’TOOLE
ON LOCATION
Dear Sirs,
Thank you for coming to our town.
I know Mr O’Toole is used to working in difficult climates – and we have much to offer in this area – for free.
If you are thinking along the lines of another blockbuster of Biblical proportions you will need NO special effects for:
*Dust storms
*Locust/mosquito plagues
*Crippling drought
* Salt pans
We also have many former Rice Bowl Princesses still living in our town.
They ARE a comely bunch – and some are well-known for enjoying having their bodices ripped.
Auditions can be arranged.
Simply terrific, bloody terrific……
Civic Father…..
March 7th, 2009 at 12:12 pm
Just dropped in, to see what Location my Location was in……
ON LOCATION:
TGM and O’Toole together, tearin’ their minds on a jagged sky,
In the Trailer of Dreams eatin’ whiskey and absinthe bye and bye.
Coding the codeine along Cannery Row,
Gettin’ an opener for the culture can.
Hibernian heaven, a Gaelic dream, biggest turkey for the silvery screen,
These are the Irish makers of drama,
Biggest thing since Barack Obama,
(Who) just might like to join ‘em for a bit of Jolson in cinemarama.
I’d like to join you ON LOCATION, gettin’ high on Creation and Ideation.
Just dropped in, to see what Location my Location was in…
Yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, to see what Location my Location was in.
March 7th, 2009 at 12:50 pm
ON LOCATION
O’Toole has received a Visitation.
A Visitation not from the Almighty, though he has been acting strangely, but from the Civic Father bearing another very large loan, this time from the Leeton Creative Arts bank account.
He is a Lawrence of Arabia film tragic.
We have not left the ON LOCATION TRAILER yet, but the O’Toole creative magic is working.
O’Toole placed a checked tea towel on the head of the Civic Father and asked him to walk up and down outside the LT.
Said O’T: Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous. Such natural talent! How does he do it? Is it Yasser Arafat?
No, don’t bite him, Breakfast, he’s our FRIEND !
Yessir, that’s Yasser!
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
I said to O’Toole: Mother Teresa had a tea towel on her head, didn’t she?
O’Toole: That’s it! Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
Civic Father, would you mind walking back again?
Please put your hands together and look up at the sky. Yes, that’s it. Mother Teresa of Leeton!
Natural talent or my name is not Peadar Seámus ó Tuathail.
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous. Let us pour a libation together, Mr Civic Father, to celebrate your entry into the World of Thespis.
March 7th, 2009 at 2:36 pm
TGM,
I’m getting right in to this project – early retirement beckons.
Send one of those bulldozers to Daalbata Rd and have the floorboards of Henry Lawson’s cottage ripped up.
You may need your light meter. You may need Breakfast.
Old Henry wasn’t particularly fond of Leeton – being forced to travel some miles to get a drink during his relatively short stint there. He was writing up progress on the irrigation works.
Could you imagine TGM…….residing in a ‘dry town?
Henry is sure to have written as yet undiscovered volumes on the topic -a movie script?
If Breakfast can’t sniff out dusty tomes reeking of smuggled liquor then maybe you’d better try The Big Lebowski.
How many words rhyme with IMMEDIATELY and ONCE?
See you ON LOCATION….
Dear Megsy, poor old Henry – a case of: Tavern, Too Far Away….
March 7th, 2009 at 2:40 pm
………….and yet I like the theme of a young teacher tortured by guilt and secret longings…………
Just where in Leeton is your van located?
Are dogs allowed?
March 7th, 2009 at 4:52 pm
ON LOCATION
Poste restante
Leeton.
The Trailer.
Dear Meg,
I have sent Breakfast to town with a note to Mr Civic Father that you are to have a stretch limo, bodyguard of Leeton Aussie Rules footballers, and marching girls with fife and drum bands to take you to the Creative Trailer, where Mr O’Toole and I are at the moment in deep creative discussion, a tense situation that requires some calming libations.
Our script discussions have taken all night and morning and have centred on the question of whether your line should be COME DOWN IMMEDIATELY or COME DOWN AT ONCE!
Either way, O’T is convinced that you’ll be marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
Our title is a working title, and perhaps it will be:
TORTURED TEACHER
or….
LUST AND LEARNING
or…..
LEETON LIBIDO
Then again, the funders need to be recognized:
HIGHLY STIMULATIN’ PACKAGE: Two men transform life in a country town.
Yes, dogs are allowed on set. As a matter of fact Breakfast has fathered a litter already.
I think Breakfast is stage-struck. He cannot take his eyes off O’Toole.
Hs doggy brain probably wants an animal flick:
BREAKFAST – The Dog That Got Away from The Wok.
The bulldozers are hard at work.
We have not been outside the trailer yet, but we have glanced out.
I said to Peter today: Two men transform a country town. Good story board.
Peter said: Not too much of it left now to be transformed! Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
March 7th, 2009 at 5:05 pm
ON LOCATION
Try Do arrived today.
Breakfast knocked him down, and sat with his teeth at his throat for an hour.
He let him in after I convinced him that Try Do is vegetarian.
Breakfast sniffed his breath to make sure.
O’Toole has appointed Try Do Chief Camerman, Lighting and Special Effects Director.
Best boy is Mr B.R.E.A.K Fast.
O’Toole: Mr Try Do, do you have a camera?
Try Do: No.
O’Toole: If you had one would you use it?
Try Do: I Try Do.
O’Toole: Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous…..
March 7th, 2009 at 5:24 pm
ON LOCATION
To KJ, Ex-Leetonite, Roma Street…..everybody,
Be grateful if you could do some historical research on Henry Lawson and Leeton.
BENEATH THE FLOORBOARDS
or
HENRY IN THE HORRORS
or
RING BARKED LAWSON
or
HENRY LAWSON AND THE GOMBEEN MEN
or
DRY AS A NUN’S TIT- ONE MAN’S DROUGHT
or
PICNIC AT DRINKING ROCK
As you can see we are flexible on title and content.
I wonder if someone out there would consider doubling as Spider Man?
Or perhaps Meg could do the role as well as the Come Down voiceovers.
I have communicated with the Australian Broadcasting Corporation and SBS Independent TV explaining we are having production difficulties due to insufficient funding.
People in this country have to think big!
Bollywood?
We have ‘Bidgeewood on the go!
TGM – ON LOCATION
KJ: Henry lived in Leeton from January, 1916 to August, 1917. It was not a happy stay though he did find some peace of mind in his writings.
I clearly remember one of my last outings with Hec, before dementia ravaged a fine mind: Let’s go down to Daalabata road and take another look at Henry’s joint KJ.
March 7th, 2009 at 7:54 pm
I am sure that much will be learned by TGM and Mr O’Toole from the ABC Screening 8.30 Sunday night of Lost in Austen.
Oh, to be able to step through the portals of imagination into Pride and Prejudice.
Oh, Oh, Oh!
March 7th, 2009 at 7:57 pm
Dear Pandora,
Did you know that O’Toole has relations called Darcy?
You can take Peter out of the O’Toole…….
But you can’t take the Toole out of Peter.
March 8th, 2009 at 4:43 am
The Ginger Man,
I have a bodice – and it is a RIPPER!
I’ve just beeen into Countrylink – and booked a ticket to Leeton.
Consider me an extra………
See you soon………
March 8th, 2009 at 8:58 am
Henry Lawson wrote that Leeton is so hot that you could wash your trousers, put them on, then walk once around the house….and by the time you completed the circuit, your strides would be dry.
KJ: Quite! In summer, Gwennie puts the sheets out. Has a cuppa. And puts them back on the bed…..(naturally bleached!!!)
What about when you walk up the street in thongs – and get stuck in the bitumen?
March 8th, 2009 at 9:10 am
KJ – re: Mountford Park.
I have been a semi-public laughing stock at that venue myself.
When we used to drink on Fridays at the Leeton Hotel, our tradition was for one of the group to form an advance party some 20 or so minutes before departure to strike out for the Calabria pizza joint, secure a table……and put in an order so that the pizzas would be ready when the rest of the party showed up.
One night – when I had drawn the short straw – I never made it to the Calabria, but instead fell asleep on the crackerdust path near the bird enclosure in Mountford Park, with my head resting on the kerb…….
I was to awaken some space of time later with a tolerably large semi-circle of pub patrons, some known to me, some not, standing around me pointing, laughing and generally making merry.
One of my own siblings was among the group.
KJ: What vulgar behaviour Roma Street, simply vulgar AND wildly inappropriate for a resident of a NATIONAL Tidy Towns winner.
March 8th, 2009 at 9:12 am
ON LOCATION
WHERE LEETON ONCE WAS
Dear Marry Me,
There are no extras here, only stars, and you, m’dear are one of them in this STAR-STUDDED PRODUCTION.
We have ordered ten thousand dollars worth of Highly Stimulatin’ Package Bodices and an equal amount of Rippers.
NIDA has been asked to commence Ripping classes.
The title is still a Work in Progress:
LOVERS OF LEETON?
or
MR DARCY’S SECRET LOVES
or
WHEN CODPIECE MET BODICE
Peter and I can see that we will have a treasure chest of talent here.
Davo and Fanny are marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
Pandora’s historical interest simply marvellous too.
Come on down and be ON LOCATION.
KJ: A highlight of my more cerebral activities was attending a lecture by a visiting scholar titled: The History Of The Codpiece.em> (Sydney University) Great overhead projections. Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous!
March 8th, 2009 at 9:51 am
Roma Street,
I have the highest honour in appointing you Historical Director.
Do you know the location of Henry Lawson’s Underpants?
They are a vital prop, and TGM and I are running short in that department.
New working title:
HENRY LAWSON’S UNDERPANTS: GONE WITH THE WIND
Sincerely and with great affection,
P.S.O’Toole
ON LOCATION
Trailer
March 8th, 2009 at 10:02 am
Ex-Leetonite,
I am sending you a picture of me when I was Lawrence of Arabia in the fervent hope that – as Restoration and Makeup Artist -you can assist our Production.
I am now in my mid-seventies, but I am sure you can work wonders.
I am scripting you also as:
LETONA -MYSTERY GIRL FROM THE PLAINS
Sincerely,
P.S. O’Toole
ON LOCATION
Trailer
March 8th, 2009 at 10:05 am
Bill O’Slatter,
A Chara,
As a fellow Irishman, would you care to accept the role of Stuntman in our production?
P.S. O’Toole
ON LOCATION
Trailer
March 8th, 2009 at 10:21 am
TGM,
Sorry. I’m a naturally very careful person (don’t know how I ever got caught up in KJ’s blog).
I can’t possibly just walk out on my class of beautiful girls and boys and the occasional self-taught pilot.
YES the limo, footy team bodyguards and dancing girls would be most appreciated.
…..YES, I’m terribly excited about finally getting to see you in your Trinity scarf and mackintosh BUT I NEED TO KNOW you and Peter O’T will actually get out of that ON LOCATION trailer and start filming.
Security of the Education Dept and a job at Radio National are on a par in these troubled times.
PS: Keep those bulldozers away from Gwennie’s part of town or KJ won’t be impressed!
March 8th, 2009 at 11:07 am
Mr O’T…….Make up Artist? I think not!
I’m currently in an ebay bidding war for Nicole Kidman’s Moulin Rouge bustier.
I don’t intend being anything but UP FRONT!
Sorry sweetheart – I’m also in on the bustier bidding war. My strategy: WHATEVER IT TAKES! Oven mit as talking point! KJ
March 8th, 2009 at 11:39 am
Not so much treading the boards but treading the boards of a moving vehicle nevertheless.
That about sums up two important periods of my life – strapper then strapped, both self-taught. I tried film making and living in caravans in the Riverina….ahhh!!!!!!
You try living with a half blind and totally deaf, senile incontinent blue heeler and a vegetarian truck driver in a small space! (no offence to you TGM).
I’m not going near anything that looks like a caravan in that or any other district!
Here’s where I’m at for all those more interested in post production -a ‘post mardi-gras blues’ checklist for girls from 4F.
*stare out window
*sharpener
*check mobile
*scissors
*irrigate blocked sinuses (I blame my years in the Riverina for this one)
*empty compost (where the action is around here)
*give husband a hard time
*smoke
*dance to Freeway – Aimee Mann.
PLEASE JOIN ME:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQF5CXV9cos
Dear Greek and loving it – I enjoyed Aimee very much and had a little dance. HOWEVER, I am devastated! The Ginger Man WILL be devastated. Such negative experiences of the Riverina (particularly while living in caravans) are rare indeed. IF (just IF) we take the incontinent blue heeler and the vegetarian truck driver out of the picture, would things look different? KJ
March 8th, 2009 at 7:01 pm
Nope.
March 8th, 2009 at 7:17 pm
Now I feel like a spoil sport……
I tell you what, usually I try things at least TWICE before I decide whether it’s for me.
Like when my best friend at boarding school told me that she was bisexual. Furthermore that everyone was naturally so. She proceeded to challenge me to test out her theory.
After telling her over and over again that I was definitely NOT bisexual she threatened to sever our friendship.
This would never do as she was an expert on Lou Reed and I fancied her brother so I took her up on the challenge to prove her wrong.
Surviving the initial experiment (torches, prefects, twelve other sleeping girls and squeaky springs) she asked whether I could now support her hypothesis.
Well, I said, I wasn’t sure that once was a legitimate sample – we would have to repeat the experiment for me to be absolutely sure.
This is not soft porn (all you dirty-minded men who write in this blog) but a symptom of the mardi gras blues!
It will pass and our blood pressures will all collectively return to normal.
But, you will understand that I can never go back to the Riverina and live in a caravan.
Unless, of course, there is a bridle and saddle involved in the story somewhere……
Greek and loving it….. Phew! Just give me a sec and I’ll reach over and switch on my desk fan…..
Terrific, bloody terrific……..
Mr O’T can play the torch……
The Ginger Man, get out of that trailer – YOU HAVE A STORYLINE…! KJ
March 8th, 2009 at 10:58 pm
ON LOCATION
My dear Greek and loving it,
How could we have a drama without a Greek chorus, or at least one Greek?
You must come, and Breakast will love you.
New working titles:
DORA THE GREEK
RETSINA RIVERINA RAPTURE
ODYSSEOS SCALLOPOS, POTATO VOYAGES
DIONYSSOS DOWN UNDER
THE SINUS REBELLION
You must come dear because you’d be:
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous…..
Slainte,
P.S. O’Toole
March 9th, 2009 at 8:18 am
Waxed or unwaxed?
March 9th, 2009 at 8:49 am
What am I saying? I will NEVER go to Leeton and stay in a caravan or trailer or anything on wheels. Marry Me, think again!
Dear Greek and loving it – Over the years I have heard hundreds of people say: I will NEVER go to (or go back to) Leeton.
Guess what? They turn up. I see them frollicking at the Rice Bowl Festival or enjoying time out in Country Target.
And that sweetie is REAL PULL! KJ
March 9th, 2009 at 10:58 am
ON LOCATION
TRAILER CONFERENCE
ON THE EXCAVATED SITE
OF ANCIENT LEETON
TGM is in (what I might call) a creative coma at the moment, so I thought I might discuss this project with our marvellous, simply marvellous cast.
What do we have here? Well, we have Two Men in a Trailer.
We also have a well-muscled Steve McQueen type stuntman in Bill (Daredevil) O’Slatter, and a bevy of beauty, a plethora of pulchitrude, bursting with talent.
We have a poet-singer, The Big L, and an array of artistic talent.
Our cup runneth over…oops….sorry spilled a bit there.
And we have Breakfast the Wonder Dog, and his new friend Mr Try Do, world renowned camerman, so renowned that he does not even need a camera.
We do not have a plot, nor do we have a camera, nor film, but these are mere bagatelles, barriers to the creative imagination.
It’ll be all right on the night.
Marvellous, simply bloody marvellous.
At the moment I am toying with the notion of a largely Female Musical:
Sexy, you know……
GIRLS GO WILD IN THE BUSH.
SONGS THAT SENT MUMMY MAD
HOT PANTS IN LEETON
IRRIGATIN’ AND ROOTIN’ – THE MUSICAL
CAN CAN GIRLS SING TO A HARVEST MOON
Be grateful for any songs, plots, scenarios you may offer.
P.S.O’T