sel-fish

it was nearly twenny yeers agothe cherch made that record in l.a.that one with that songthat song about the whatsisnamethe song that got used in that tv showyeah ya know the one i mean1987out of nowhereafter being dropped by warmer brothersand capitol punishmentwe were signed up by a-wrister records n tapeswho insisted that we come to l.a.so they could keep an eye on usthey say why dontcha work with waddsy wok-telland grog lady-aniwe thoughtokwhy not?that sounds ridiculousso we turn up in laand we get put in the oakwood apts on sepulveda, west laploog n i in one aptmwp n pk in anotherswimming poolbarbequeunderground carparklocked gatesthe whole dealfirst time i heard rap musici lying in bed the 1st morningi hear this ‘orrible ‘orrible loud noise coming up the streeti thought it was the end of the worlda car pumping out rap at a mighty volumea revoltin’ way to wake upwe go down the studio to meet our pro-ducersgrog is a rude talentless macho buffoonhe owns the complexthe studio we’re recording inhe thinks we’re small fishand he dont bother hiding his contempthes “worked” on jackson brownedand dong hen-leeso boy hes a big-headed turkeywaddsy is a lot nicer n friendlierthey both snorting cokey-dokey like fiends, fiendssall the timeit dont seem to affect ww too muchhes pretty affablehe can see we aint too badgrog on the other hand is a messwhen hes just hadda snorthes clammy n enthusiastic …for about 5 minuteshe wants to listen to everything at top volumethru these huge speakersi cant even bear to be in control roomits louder than a gig!so anyway we go to this soundstagein santa monicawhere we rehearse all the life outta the songsfor 4 tedious weeksthey start wearing down ploogys confidence immediatelythey try to start picking on me bout my voicebut im untouchable in my self-confidencebut […]

it was nearly twenny yeers ago
the cherch made that record in l.a.
that one with that song
that song about the whatsisname
the song that got used in that tv show
yeah ya know the one i mean
1987
out of nowhere
after being dropped by warmer brothers
and capitol punishment
we were signed up by a-wrister records n tapes
who insisted that we come to l.a.
so they could keep an eye on us
they say why dontcha work with waddsy wok-tell
and grog lady-ani
we thought
ok
why not?
that sounds ridiculous
so we turn up in la
and we get put in the oakwood apts on sepulveda, west la
ploog n i in one apt
mwp n pk in another
swimming pool
barbeque
underground carpark
locked gates
the whole deal
first time i heard rap music
i lying in bed the 1st morning
i hear this ‘orrible ‘orrible loud noise coming up the street
i thought it was the end of the world
a car pumping out rap at a mighty volume
a revoltin’ way to wake up
we go down the studio to meet our pro-ducers
grog is a rude talentless macho buffoon
he owns the complex
the studio we’re recording in
he thinks we’re small fish
and he dont bother hiding his contempt
hes “worked” on jackson browned
and dong hen-lee
so boy hes a big-headed turkey
waddsy is a lot nicer n friendlier
they both snorting cokey-dokey like fiends, fiendss
all the time
it dont seem to affect ww too much
hes pretty affable
he can see we aint too bad
grog on the other hand is a mess
when hes just hadda snort
hes clammy n enthusiastic …for about 5 minutes
he wants to listen to everything at top volume
thru these huge speakers
i cant even bear to be in control room
its louder than a gig!
so anyway we go to this soundstage
in santa monica
where we rehearse all the life outta the songs
for 4 tedious weeks
they start wearing down ploogys confidence immediately
they try to start picking on me bout my voice
but im untouchable in my self-confidence
but they hurt pks n ploogs feelings all the time
grog especially treats us like second rate time-wasters
“look at this” he screams out to ww one day
“that fucking blah blah got a gig doing springsteen..”
“and youre stuck here with these useless australian nobodies”
i said….
grog looked at me searchingly and he cracked an ugly smirk
“thats right…..thats fucking right…!”
grog n waddsy didnae think much of u.t.m.w. neither
it was a kind of addendum to the rest of the album
i did most of it on my own
in a little programming studio
ploogy didnt play on it
they didnt wanna waste their time putting real drums on it
waddsy even tried to dissuade me from putting it second on the record
“you want em to hear some good ones before they get to that one!”
he said…
meanwhile we all had our own cars
and were getting into our own adventures
particularly ploogy who brought a constant stream
of hippies, druggies, ratbags n rastas round our apt.
we ate mexican food a lot
and roamed venice beach
grog sent me n pk for singing lessons in hollywood
we hadda crazy singing teacher
a guy whod played hercules n sampson in some b-grade flicks
he talked about sex non stop between singing instructions
hey steve do the girls in australia like to give head?
he would ask every week between la la la la las
hey steve i had a girl in here last week
she said ” im the queen of head jobs”
i said get down on yer knees and win the title
etc etc etc
in the middle of a c scale
he’d interrupt to tell me
of his latest conquest
and then straight back to the lesson as if nothin’ had happened
i didnt learn nothin’
but grog insisted the lessons were helping my hopeless voice
he hated pks voice even worse than mine
and made him feel real bad about it
one day waddsy stumbled on a huge cache of very very cheap cocaine
the boys bought a small mountain of it and started sniffin’
i had one line of that stuff n i felt sick for 3 days
grog made a pig of himself with it the first day
and stayed home for a (blessed) week
when he finally reappeared his skin was grey
and he lay on the couch softly moanin’
but not saying much
gee i didnt have a lotta sympathy for the olde wanker
waddsy on the other hand just piled in harder
he seemed fucking indestructible
with his diet of coke, winston ciggies, hamburgers, n sodapop
he was always alert n on the ball
3 months we were there
spending so much money that we’d never recoup
(we still probably havent)
day in day out of insults n abuse from these 2
driving round la scoring pot n getting into trouble
ploogy screaming out at the merry barbequers at our apts
“i dont dig your fucking altar!”
arista pouring money into the record
hey its sold almost a million in u.s. alone
but we’ll never see any money
cos it cost so much to make
days n days wasted buggering about
moving all over l.a. to other money eating studios
our stupid manager dont care
hes already commissioned the huge recording advance
now he dont care or know …
if you listen to the record
its actually flat lifeless n sterile
great songs, sure
but the performance, the sounds are ordinary
we coulda got that in australia in a week or 2
for a 20th of the money we spent
but what did we know
these were the ex-spurts
big shot american hard-assed turkeys
they knew best!
anyway
the rest is history
utmw accidentally became a hit
and everyone said
“whatta great record!”
is it really?
it aint a patch on heyday or priest
it was successful despite of grog n waddsy
not because of….
so there ya go
dont expect me to be all excited about sel-fish
it was purgatory having to cope with grog
waddsy i gotta bit of a soft spot for
he does know a bit about music i guess
not the kinda music i like, mind ya..
you dont hear much about grog these days
i mean i dont think his “producing” career went much further
he turned up at a gig after utmw wassa bit of a hit
trying half-heartedly to ameliorate it with me
but i just fucking smiled at him like
are you fucking serious… i fucking hate ya!
waddsy we worked with again
that was gaf
ha ha
lets all sing it now
“i shoulda known better!”
anyway
theres the short sordid history about our big one
too much money…tho none for us
too much cocaine
too much argy-bargy
just too much
can ya believe it was almost 20 years ago?
seems like only last century…
more tails tomorrow!
sk

mother? yes,son? i want to…………

they say everyones in showbiz…if yer in the kilbey familyit could be true…my dad as you knowwas a wonderful boogie woogie pianist(interestingly he always pronounced the g inboogie woogie as a soft g like a j)he entertained his mates all over europeback in the forties when he was away from his other jobkilling the enemy…you could whistle a song to my dador he could hear a new beatles songand he could sit right down n play itchords n bass n allit always sounded a bit “daddish” to meit wasnt quite right…these days i realise dad had a couple of standard progressionsand hed bend any song you gave him to fit into themlike a backdrop hed previously prepareddad loved his 7th chords n his flourishesit was always the same couple of flourishes tooit lent all his renditions a slightly comical airbut it was very much himinstantly recognizable after a few barsits an accomplishment in itself, fiendssto stamp your own sound on an instrumenthave ya ever sat down n banged around on a piano?can you imagine how much time n love one has to invest to have yer own style n soundthat people can pick instantly?the day i met tom verlaine in 1988he walked in my roompicked up an acoustic guitarplayed 2 notesn i could hear it was him immediatelyhis relationship with the guitarwas totally unlike anybody else i’d ever seenand i seen a few…well in his own way my dad was kinda like thatmy motheron the other handhas just written a book…yes thats rightand it aint no jokeandit will be for sale soon tooso watch out!no i aint read it…!ive complained n complainedto olde juicy joycie but i aint been allowed to read itcould it be she wants it safely in printbefore i spot the errors anachronisms n bloopers?anyway guess what?thats […]

they say everyones in showbiz…
if yer in the kilbey family
it could be true…
my dad as you know
was a wonderful boogie woogie pianist
(interestingly he always pronounced the g in
boogie woogie as a soft g like a j)
he entertained his mates all over europe
back in the forties
when he was away from his other job
killing the enemy…
you could whistle a song to my dad
or he could hear a new beatles song
and he could sit right down n play it
chords n bass n all
it always sounded a bit “daddish” to me
it wasnt quite right…
these days i realise dad had a couple of standard progressions
and hed bend any song you gave him to fit into them
like a backdrop hed previously prepared
dad loved his 7th chords n his flourishes
it was always the same couple of flourishes too
it lent all his renditions a slightly comical air
but it was very much him
instantly recognizable after a few bars
its an accomplishment in itself, fiendss
to stamp your own sound on an instrument
have ya ever sat down n banged around on a piano?
can you imagine how much time n love
one has to invest to have yer own style n sound
that people can pick instantly?
the day i met tom verlaine in 1988
he walked in my room
picked up an acoustic guitar
played 2 notes
n i could hear it was him immediately
his relationship with the guitar
was totally unlike anybody else i’d ever seen
and i seen a few…
well in his own way my dad was kinda like that
my mother
on the other hand
has just written a book…
yes thats right
and it aint no joke
and
it will be for sale soon too
so watch out!
no i aint read it…!
ive complained n complained
to olde juicy joycie but i aint been allowed to read it
could it be she wants it safely in print
before i spot the errors anachronisms n bloopers?
anyway guess what?
thats my chrismas present this year
the book
its called
the tale of the old iron pot
is this same oblique nod to marijuana?
(joyce :NO!)
who is the old iron pot? auntie lu-lu?
surely not you mother dear?
tho sometimes i thought you were made of iron…
my mum kinda kept me on a short leash
both literally n figuratively
i found out just recently
she used to take me out with reins on
a child harness
you dont see them too much these days
but imagine
my mum walking the infant steven
thru the supermarket
and im chomping at the bit
and straining at the leash…
it was the leasht i could do
down boy she says
im always leaning forward
trying to get away
trying to chat up all the girl babies
and “bop” all the boys
bopping was what i called hitting
another baby paul: mum, steven keeps bopping me!
i was a big little bastard n i liked to throw my weight around
so my mums just lived thru all that bombing
and she comes from a family of 8
who were workingmans working class
so she aint full of no hi-falutin’ dr spock
namby pamby pscychological bullshit
she yer olde fashioned mum
the true weilder of the power
if my mum said jump
i jumped
i did
partly cos i loved ‘er
partly cos i was afraid of ‘er
and partly cos it was the 1950s
and some assumptions had not yet been questioned
eg you did what yer mum n dad said!
despite being a precocious n cheeky rude sod
i always did what they said
my trespass was verbal
hardly ever physical
occaisionally my mum gave me a “flippin’ backhander”
but it was never undeserved
if my mother said go to bed
i went to fucking bed
not like the doodles
standing around arguing the toss
and all their delaying tactics
sometimes i feel like ive gotten a double whammy
i mean
when i grew up
ya did as ya were told
ok i thought back then
if thats the system
i’ll benefit when i get kids o’ my own
but hey
the system went n changed sometime
just when i was getting ready to have my turn
kids had to go n get emancipated
hey joycie
id like to see ya under todays conditions…
when evies having a meltdown in the soopa markit
or elli n minna are clobberin’ each other!
or auroras chucked everything she owns everywhere
and is now sobbing
cos youve gently “suggested” she might like to pick it up
or when baby bumpers crawling all over ya
in the middle of the night…
yeah so you can kinda see
how i got it at both ends
childhood and parenthood
nevermind all that
the book only goes up to the year my father died
so no cherch
my mother will brook no favouritism
so i am not apparently
a major player in this book
its not about me!
i just happen to be a son in it!
maybe best supporting role
i must say im looking forward to reading it
i hope it doesnt end up in court though joyce
i mean neither of us could afford lawyers for a start
and itd be pandemonium in the courtroom
if you start mispronouncing words and getting mixed up
and you may force me to call up surprise witnesses
like that spy (!??)….
(you know who i mean!)
so i better come off good or else
well well well
i have another day of work (WORK!) ahead of me
singing writing mixing
goofing off at the patisserie round the corner
(amazing veggie pie n soy chai tea)
so im gonna split this scene
take my bat n ball
n piss off
home!

an automatic charge on yer mind

im sitting upstairs in an office above the studiooh yeahit wassa late night n an early startfor this fellow herewriting this to youwherever n whoever you arethank you for donations all you donorsfor the rest of ya….yeah you FREELOADER!nah im just kiddingwe’re in here working on whatisnameyeah that one i told ya bout befourthe weather is blusterythis morning bondi was enveloped in a thick fogthat suddenly was burned away by a scorching suna clear blue sky appearedthen just as suddenlythe fog rolled back in againnow its windy n wildbeen doing some singingplaying a little bassgenerally carrying onif you know what i mean…and how could you?and then,why not?type type type go my finglersmy thrumbs never typemy stereo typesyour my type baybeeand im writing this blog to youn i hope it gets throughi really doscarlet likes the song moon riverwhen i sing it she joins in and flashes her eyesive been trying to figure out how she flashes her eyesnone of my other kids nor me nor nk have flashed their eyeswhat is it exactly?its like for a split second her whole absolute attentionis focussed on youand the flash says im with youi understandi know what these lyrics mean…all in that one little almost imperceptible flashive seen annie lennox do it…i guess only females can get away with it successfullyit cant be overdone eitherscarlet does it effortlesslyshe doesnt think oh im gonna flash my eyes in a minuteif youre thinkin’ about itor tryin’ to do ityou already failed childebut if you got itah……that look can conquer empiresim sure olde cleo-patchrahad some tricks up her sleeve, steevethose olde latino generals caeser sees hercaesar saladantony sees herantony dont seize her! caesar!caesar will mark antonyoh mighty caesar we have laid waste gauland we await your biddingthe emperor of the republic and the kingdomsaiddont bring me […]

im sitting upstairs in an office
above the studio
oh yeah
it wassa late night n an early start
for this fellow here
writing this to you
wherever n whoever you are
thank you for donations all you donors
for the rest of ya….
yeah you
FREELOADER!
nah im just kidding
we’re in here working on whatisname
yeah that one i told ya bout befour
the weather is blustery
this morning bondi was enveloped in a thick fog
that suddenly was burned away by a scorching sun
a clear blue sky appeared
then just as suddenly
the fog rolled back in again
now its windy n wild
been doing some singing
playing a little bass
generally carrying on
if you know what i mean…
and how could you?
and then,
why not?
type type type go my finglers
my thrumbs never type
my stereo types
your my type baybee
and im writing this blog to you
n i hope it gets through
i really do
scarlet likes the song moon river
when i sing it she joins in and flashes her eyes
ive been trying to figure out how she flashes her eyes
none of my other kids nor me nor nk have flashed their eyes
what is it exactly?
its like for a split second her whole absolute attention
is focussed on you
and the flash says im with you
i understand
i know what these lyrics mean…
all in that one little almost imperceptible flash
ive seen annie lennox do it…
i guess only females can get away with it successfully
it cant be overdone either
scarlet does it effortlessly
she doesnt think oh im gonna flash my eyes in a minute
if youre thinkin’ about it
or tryin’ to do it
you already failed childe
but if you got it
ah……
that look can conquer empires
im sure olde cleo-patchra
had some tricks up her sleeve, steeve
those olde latino generals
caeser sees her
caesar salad
antony sees her
antony dont seize her! caesar!
caesar will mark antony
oh mighty caesar we have laid waste gaul
and we await your bidding
the emperor of the republic and the kingdom
said
dont bring me white tigers balls
or the tongues of hummingbirds
neither do i crave alligator leather
or ostrich meat…
i need tickets to the churchy space cake
vegetarian xmas knees up + schpeshal grests
at the basement sydney 23rd dec
its gonna be a space rock singalong earspitting racket
perfect for calibrating yooltyde
and being mary during the knackativity
or whatever you choose
christmas with the olde time being this year
you wont be lonely wherever you are
olde scrooge yeblik is gonna get a visit
from the spirit of xmas yet to come
+ the twillies
+ the doodles
+ the bumper
a joyous watchalong scmaltzy seasonal baloney-fest
from the gang who gave ya christmas at easter
and christmas on the moon
hey i gotta go n work now
can i have an early bird mark?
and what of the early worm?
if he should turn
turn out to be
a tiny
tiny
snake?

neville the devil

neville the devilwas a hell of a manhe worked for old b.el.z.bubdelivering sneezesand straightening out speed bumpsneville the devil had a dog named xand a cat called pussyhe liked to walk backwardsand he smoked liquid cigaretteshe never wrote anything downand he didnt have a mottohis mother called him geraldhis father called him reghe often drank but seldomlyand then hardly everneville the devilhad a mirror it reflected someone elses facethe previous owners in factmany people thought it was impossiblebut many others didnt think at allthe street where he lived was one waythe wrong waythere was no chance of approaching himneville the devil was collecting soulshe needed another 3 million or sobefore his master would let him have his long service leavein a delicious stygian pit full of she-devilswith big red breasts n slinky tailshe polished his trident and dreamedhe dreamed of all the wickednessthe bribes n the fixesthe theft n the cheatingthe larceny n forgerythe rubber cheques n the phony cigars3 million souls eh?well it would take some doing…neville the deviltook the bus into towngee its hot in here today thought the driverwhats that smell of brimstone? said mrs gwen mc donaldas she straightened out her respectabilityneville the deviljumped off outside the high n low courtshe walked into the cafe and snatched a barristers soul n 2 crooked jurors who were having muesli barshe moved into the judges chambersand removed chief justice witherspoons immortal essencebah! he said small change!i need something bigger fasterhe thought of those she-devilsand the lovely temperatures down in the darkest pitshe needed something bighe needed a caper to set up his retirementneville the devilswept thru the streetsevery now n then he would stop to extract some juicy souluh ohhere comes that greedy dentistthe one who drilled perfectly healthy teethn then recommended you to his brother in lawthe […]

neville the devil
was a hell of a man
he worked for old b.el.z.bub
delivering sneezes
and straightening out speed bumps
neville the devil
had a dog named x
and a cat called pussy
he liked to walk backwards
and he smoked liquid cigarettes
he never wrote anything down
and he didnt have a motto
his mother called him gerald
his father called him reg
he often drank but seldomly
and then hardly ever
neville the devil
had a mirror
it reflected someone elses face
the previous owners in fact
many people thought it was impossible
but many others didnt think at all
the street where he lived was one way
the wrong way
there was no chance of approaching him
neville the devil was collecting souls
he needed another 3 million or so
before his master would let him
have his long service leave
in a delicious stygian pit full of she-devils
with big red breasts n slinky tails
he polished his trident and dreamed
he dreamed of all the wickedness
the bribes n the fixes
the theft n the cheating
the larceny n forgery
the rubber cheques n the phony cigars
3 million souls eh?
well it would take some doing…
neville the devil
took the bus into town
gee its hot in here today thought the driver
whats that smell of brimstone? said mrs gwen mc donald
as she straightened out her respectability
neville the devil
jumped off outside the high n low courts
he walked into the cafe and snatched a barristers soul
n 2 crooked jurors who were having muesli bars
he moved into the judges chambers
and removed chief justice witherspoons immortal essence
bah! he said
small change!
i need something bigger faster
he thought of those she-devils
and the lovely temperatures down in the darkest pits
he needed something big
he needed a caper to set up his retirement
neville the devil
swept thru the streets
every now n then
he would stop to extract some juicy soul
uh oh
here comes that greedy dentist
the one who drilled perfectly healthy teeth
n then recommended you to his brother in law
the bent orthodontist, stanley silverstone
who charged an arm n a leg
neville the devil
quickly purloined his soul
ha! he’ll never miss it chuckled our little demon
he drifted thru parliament house
helping himself to a smorgasbord of souls
one from the left
one from the right
one from the left…
oh this was too easy
besides he only got half points on politicians
so what? b.el.z.bub said
when he had delivered up the souls
formerly belonging to the leaders of the free world
what can i do with all this junk?
neville the devil
slunk down the big end of town
where the entertainment corporations towered
skyscrapers full of salon tanned ,gold jewellry wearing
podgy, comb-over ,bmw suv driving, key to the vip pissoir
talentless, wine swilling, coke snorting, meat eating
sinners
ah said n the d
mmmmm
the aromatic odour of evil….!
neville the devil
could already see his holiday villa
perched above hills of magma
while lightning lit up the darkest recess of hell
he sighed
he could almost feel the she-devils tongues of flame
and their agonizing caresses
boom boom boom
he snatched 3 black souls just like that
mmm thats quite filling he thought
as the former executive producers n ad men
squirmed round in his belly
he trawled the typing pool n the art departments
reeling in his grim harvest of spirits
something big was just around the corner
some big bad bastard so evil….
neville the devil
knew he was onto the big one
some mega-nasty soul that could set him up
with a nice hades address and his own chariot of fire…
on the thirteenth floor
was a suite of offices
the private suites of sir dennis swine-browne
the head of the music biz for the entire world
you see the big 3 had become the big 2
and then sir dennis had acquisitioned the remaining one
and now
he
and he alone
arrogant, tasteless, macho
a big hairy chest with a “leo” pendant
hours n hours of dull anecdotes
his employees had to listen to n smile
big noting name dropping
callous, rotten , useless alpha male
sir dennis hated music n musicians
he was a fucking philistine n proud of it
he didnt want no namby pamby indy bullshit
on his label….the only label now
fuck!
sir dennis thought chrissy ugly-learer was too damn artsy
sir dennis thought justin timberflake was too “bohemian”
he was looking for someone big
just like
neville the devil
who
at that moment
burst into sir dennis office
i want your soul
neville the devil said
touche
said sir dennis
have i gotta deal for you?!
neville the devil
pricked up his little red ears
whats that you say?
sir dennis laughed n lit a cigar
ha ha ma boy, i can putcha name up in lights
suddenly those she-devils n hades seemed a long long way down
can ya play guitar? asked sir dennis
nope
can ya sing or write songs?
nope!
can ya dance and move?
nope nope!
great! said sir dennis
you’ll be perfect!
and he rushed
neville the devil
into a studio….
max martin had just got a new song ready
a sizzling summer hit
for the hot one hundred
a scorching remix too
it was produced by r. mcgeddon
sir dennis right hand man
who made sure nothing good would fuck the songs chances up
the tune shot up the charts like
a bat out of..er…hell
safely ensconced at the top of the charts
neville the devil
partied with marilyn manson
“an idiot”
ozzy osbourne
“didnt say much”
and keithy urbane
“boy , he likes to part-eee!’
he visited paris
and entered the hilton by the back door
(he was so famous)
he hung out with prez bush
(“reminds me of my old boss, but stupider”)
and he did a gig in baghdad
(“my kinda place”)
in the end tho
people got sick of satanic rock
im sorry my boy but yer career is over
sir dennis texted him one day
neville the devil was finished
he looked in his mirror
and crossed n uncrossed his cloven hooves
damn
he said
damn
damn
damn

unexpected journey

a new weekan open bookwe move into summernorth moves into winteroh roll out those hazy crazy lazy days of summerand let the good times roll too….hot tropical nights w/ rain beating downromancecelebrationbeautiful music swelling upthe memories all crowd inparties break out up n down the streetsin bedrooms lovers mergechampagne mixing with the delugetropical fish tank throws green lightflesh flows n dipsnew life beginsblack cat in darknesswitches familiargentle knock knock knock at dooryou stand there unchangedbroad palm leaves collect waterclouds hurry on bywine and rosesbamboo n chinese shrubssleek cars pull awaythe mysteries enfold each othergodangelwomanchildnothingeverything reducedeverything must gothe storm renders all black n greenthe outside is a blurvaguely hear voicessomeone somewhere laughingsomeone else singingthe night stretches on for milesit squeezes the cityit squats down over the coastand envelopes the housesit fools around with golf courses n playgroundsit slides under the doorsit drips outside the windowsnightflowers bloomnightfriends arriveall around us the arms of the nightrain increasing steadilythunder a deep rumble out to seagive ingive upgive way to itsuccumbgo underlose yourselfloose yourselflet the thoughtsroll to the back of your mindrestlet it all gosleep

a new week
an open book
we move into summer
north moves into winter
oh roll out those hazy crazy lazy days of summer
and let the good times roll too….
hot tropical nights w/ rain beating down
romance
celebration
beautiful music swelling up
the memories all crowd in
parties break out up n down the streets
in bedrooms lovers merge
champagne mixing with the deluge
tropical fish tank throws green light
flesh flows n dips
new life begins
black cat in darkness
witches familiar
gentle knock knock knock at door
you stand there unchanged
broad palm leaves collect water
clouds hurry on by
wine and roses
bamboo n chinese shrubs
sleek cars pull away
the mysteries enfold each other
god
angel
woman
child
nothing
everything reduced
everything must go
the storm renders all black n green
the outside is a blur
vaguely hear voices
someone somewhere laughing
someone else singing
the night stretches on for miles
it squeezes the city
it squats down over the coast
and envelopes the houses
it fools around with golf courses n playgrounds
it slides under the doors
it drips outside the windows
nightflowers bloom
nightfriends arrive
all around us the arms of the night
rain increasing steadily
thunder a deep rumble out to sea
give in
give up
give way to it
succumb
go under
lose yourself
loose yourself
let the thoughts
roll to the back of your mind
rest
let it all go
sleep

yesterday

although the memories of 100 years agofall out so easilyi think about yesterday and the images are blurryso this was my day yesterdayas a memory exercisewelli woke up earlyalthough i cant remember waking up yesterdayi guess at the time it was pretty vividisnt it strange that something that was so important a few hours agonow cannot even be rememberedhmmm…a metaphor for humanity perhapsanyway i got upmeditated read my blogge of yessadayread the commentschecked my emailssteVieKILbey@GEE-spotmail. org.iesgood lordan avalanche of stuffthey say computers make things easierbut i got pages of unread messagesi feel guiltyi always have a niggling feeling i can never get everything doneeverymorning another hundred appeardid you read my email about…says mwpurr ahh well not exactly….yet….but soon, soonhe squints at meyou know steve, that one was important…christ but by the time i track that one downanother hundred have landed on topi try to wade thru emmy answers (if any) are perfunctory or rudeone syllabic blah to someone who wrote a long personalised missivei hate email!it sucks up yer timemakes yer head hurtanywayi do my emailsi do my bloggethe doodles get up n start up their carry-ondad….she blah blah blahno dad she took my blah and blah blahed it..but dad, she kicked me in the blahbut she kicked my blah firstdoodles shuttup!im plumbing the depths of my memriesim diving for my own memoryit takes detachmentbut the doodles bloody rabbitting on makes it harddid fucking lord tennyson write under these conditions?doodles im gonna take ya to the pool soon as i finish thisbut thats a mistakecos the doodles kep sayinghave ya finished?have ya finished?HAVE YA FINISHED?when will ya be finished?eventually i do finishafter threatening the doodlesa hundred times…we do the usual performance offind the swimmersyou see the doodles just casually chuck their clothes willy nillyso this can be a painful procedurenk […]

although the memories of 100 years ago
fall out so easily
i think about yesterday
and the images are blurry
so this was my day yesterday
as a memory exercise
well
i woke up early
although i cant remember waking up yesterday
i guess at the time it was pretty vivid
isnt it strange that something that was so important a few hours ago
now cannot even be remembered
hmmm…a metaphor for humanity perhaps
anyway i got up
meditated
read my blogge of yessaday
read the comments
checked my emails
steVieKILbey@GEE-spotmail. org.ies
good lord
an avalanche of stuff
they say computers make things easier
but i got pages of unread messages
i feel guilty
i always have a niggling feeling i can never get everything done
everymorning another hundred appear
did you read my email about…says mwp
urr ahh well not exactly….yet….but soon, soon
he squints at me
you know steve, that one was important…
christ but by the time i track that one down
another hundred have landed on top
i try to wade thru em
my answers (if any) are perfunctory or rude
one syllabic blah to someone
who wrote a long personalised missive
i hate email!
it sucks up yer time
makes yer head hurt
anyway
i do my emails
i do my blogge
the doodles get up n start up their carry-on
dad….she blah blah blah
no dad she took my blah and blah blahed it..
but dad, she kicked me in the blah
but she kicked my blah first
doodles shuttup!
im plumbing the depths of my memries
im diving for my own memory
it takes detachment
but the doodles bloody rabbitting on makes it hard
did fucking lord tennyson write under these conditions?
doodles im gonna take ya to the pool soon as i finish this
but thats a mistake
cos the doodles kep saying
have ya finished?
have ya finished?
HAVE YA FINISHED?
when will ya be finished?
eventually i do finish
after threatening the doodles
a hundred times…
we do the usual performance of
find the swimmers
you see the doodles just casually chuck their clothes willy nilly
so this can be a painful procedure
nk n the bumper join in the hunt
we all retrace auroras footsteps from the previous day
and we come up with the eloosive swimming costume
itsa nice day
and we have a nice walk to the pool
i stop in and buy a lime mizone sports drink
with the 1 dollar coin change
i buy 2 gumballs from the machine
blue n green
the doodles have brought their own 1 dollars
and they both buy their own gum
(but is it cruel to the gum trees?
and where does all the old gum end up?)
then they haggle
trying to swap colours etc
we get to the pool at 9.30
and theres some kinda bloody races going on
and theres only one lane available for lapp swimming
and its got about 20 swimmers
some hurtling thru the water doing butterfly
others are feeble olde codgers and great fat russian ladies
everyone crashing into the others
and kids diving in n out in the laplanes
as it werent bad enuff before…
the doodles don their gear and jump in the baby pool
which is quite deep at one end
the doodles can swim
evies got that otter thing like russell
then a voice says in my ear
in a broad aussie accent
ya cant swim in there today steve
i turn round
its my friend sean the fireman
a big muscly aussie sorta guy
time you conquered your fears n did the bay swim
he says
i never swim across the bay
im frightened of the sharks
and im frightened of being out there
n running unexpectedly outta puff
i mean i do a kilometre every day
but there again i know i can stop whenever i like
anyway before i getta chance to think about it
im following sean the fireman
who is a real fireman
down the steps into the ocean itself
we walk over a shelf a marine green swaying carpet
so soft underfoot
a few biggish waves come in
dont worry
sean says
im fuckin’ afraid of em too
and theyll probably get me first
i follow him
we leave the shelf
and it drops away
to a sandy bottom
20 or 30 feet away
we begin our swim
hes a much better swimmer than me
and he takes off
of course i been body surfing in the ocean a million times
but ive never been right out here in the open sea
the water is real undulating up n down like green liquid hills
its frightening
the ocean dont fuckin’ care if youre a hipster genius
or the prime minister
its gonna swallow you under if you lose yer confidence
after about ten minutes
seans white swimming cap is a point in the distance
truthfully fiendsss i felt a wave of panic building up
i was out in the middle on my own in this huge ocean
my ego was suddenly dwarfed by confronting
the most uncaring unfeeling hugeness of the sea
i fought the feeling down with detachment
and i swam towards sean who had stopped
and was waiting for me
am i going too fast?
are you enjoying it?
oh yeah its…..beautiful i say
treading water out there
imaging my lovely muscled legs from a jaws point of view
lets keep going he says n hes off
i swim after him
each stroke a mini-eternity
despite the anxiety my lungs are handling the pressure
i been swimming hard in the pool
and im suddenly grateful for my fitness
and despite having already smoked a joint this morning
(before writing blogge)
im pushing away thru the water with no fatigue
its quite marvellous
5 or 6 years ago
i couldnt have done this for all the tea in china
now after all that lapswimming everyday..
i look up
seans off in the distance again
sean! i feebly call out
sean! sean!
he eventually hears me over the churning ocean
he stops n waits
thats enuff aint it? i say
nah lets keep going he says n i watch as he swims right down
to the bottom
its a long way down he says as he comes up n gasps for air
eventually we swim back
as i do the last few yards the term noahs arks comes into my head
noahs arks is rhyming slang for sharks
as i climb up the ladder from the ocean
back to the pool
an old aussie woman blasted brown by the sun
leans over n says
didja see any noahs?
afterwards eve n aurora get in the showers in the ladies change room
and wont come out
im standing outside ladies changerooms telling em
they better come out or…or…
and all the time girls n women coming in n out
giving me bemused looks
the doodles were in the showers for like 15 minutes
while i stood out there like a ninny
calling to em
and only half hearing their laughing shower-muffled replies
finally they come out
they look so shiny n new i cant be mad at ’em for long
we hit the fruit shop n i buy some pears n dates
we pick up a flat white for nk at a cafe
the doodles are all over the cafe
trying out different seats n tables
embarrassing i guess
but most people here know the doodles
and they just about get away with it
we get home
i make poached pears
i get a saucepan
put about two inches of water in
i add a handful of oats
i chop a bit of ginger
some sultanas n dates
three cut up pears
then you let em all get poached
keep the lid on the saucepan
dont let it dry up or out
everyone liked the pears
baby bumper wolfed hers down
i had mine with tahini
nk had honey n tahini
evie came back for more
i get a call from lucien who directed
merchant of venice, the musical i was in
last year
we’re thinking of doing zoo story
a 2 man play
about an aggressive younger bloke
who meets this kinda more timid upperclass guy
in central park in 1960,nyc
i play the older guy
n lucien has this actor sebastian goldspink
to play the nutty ratbag
hes an amazing actor …we hadda read already
so i take eve n aurora n bumper (in her stroller)
down to see the possible venue for our play
its behind this roller door in bondi
we knock on the door
inside is an amazing half gallery-half junkyard
full of paintings tools canvases plants empty wine bottles
wow says scarlet as we wheel her into the darkness
theres some great possibilities here
the kids are really well behaved while we look around
sebastian points to scarlet sitting in her stroller
singing a little song to herself
hows this kid? he asks…she hasnt complained once
yeah …we like her
i say
our stock standard reply
for fielding the bumpers numerous compliments
of course they dont see the tempestuous side of the bumper
when shes wriggling like an eeel backwards outta yer arms
while ya going up the steps
or the one doing her block
if you want let her have something thats too hot
anyway we decide to try the play there once
maybe round 20th of jan
but its all very tentative….
me n doodlies n yon bumper walk home again
i do yoga
at about five
nk n i n d’s n b
all jump in falcon
now named tibor after tibor hegyi my latin teacher
tibor beep actually
aurora thought beep was as good as tibor so we used em both
we drive outta bondi
thru eastern subs n kings cross
over hubba bridge n look!
theres the oppa house!
over to mosman n balmoral beach
cos nk likes fishnchips especially there
and the whole place is wonderful
a harbour beach , a pavillion
netted swimming between boardwalks
oh dear
silly daddy misses turn off to manly n mosman
this is the second time its happened
i go off
sailing away in the fast lane to gosford n newcastle
im effing n blinding in the drivers seat
as we are swept inexorably along by the wave-like traffic
the rest of the family are calm
during the welter of my invective
im in no hurry offers nk tentatively
the bumpers utters a oh wow
after ive finished cursing
the doodles just go on as if nothing has happened
theyve seen this film before…
eventually i turn back and make for neutral bay
nk is very relaxed and i feel silly getting all jumped up
about losing my way
we wind thru the backstreets of neutral bay towards mosman
beautiful luxurious houses i couldnt dream
of even affording their ornate letterboxes..
look at that one nk n i say to each other
we dont wanna leave our school yell out the doodles
naively thinking we are planning to move here…
finally to balmoral
we snag a carpark almost immediately
thank you vishnu
oh its wonderful here
calm warm romantic night
oh dear tho
the fishnchip shop is closed for renovations
like basil fawlty i start flagellating myself
oh no oh god oh no
nevermind says nk n we find a nice little cafe
sitting out on the water
she has battered flathead with chips
i have a veggie burger
except it contained eggplant (blechh!) n cheese(vomit!)
i nick many of nks chips
then we walk on a grassy oval
hundreds of white cockatoos fill the sky
and scarlet stumbles round saying “bird”
we sit on a bench as it grows darker
watching boats bob upndown on the sea
the drive home across the bridge is exhilarating
xmas parties seem to be exploding all over sydney
and the mood was a festive saturday night
come home
put doodles to bed
read em a bit of the silver chair
a bit of visualisation for auroras tooth
me n nk watching rock wiz when it starts up outside
look
even i aint gonna print the language this lady was using
but she was telling her boyfriend that he was some very rude things
implying that his parents werent married (b******
that he was overfond of his mum (m******-********
that he was varius bits of anatomy
you c****, you a*******
all preceded by the adjective f*******
anyway it was right out the front of our place
a guy n girl who live next door
shes screaming at him
beating n kicking his big black truck-van-thing
hes saying in the dopiest voice you can imagine
aw kelly no no dont kick my truck kelly
dont throw my phone kelly
now dont throw my keys at me kelly
ouch fuck kelly
that really fucking hurt me kelly
kellys attacking and kicking
go to fucking maroubra you c she says
go on go to fucking maroubra go on !
why dontcha come wiv me kelly?
f you f you f you shes screaming at the top o’ her lungs
ooh shes a nasty type too
out there dressed in a towel only
the guys sitting in his car
theres much incoherent swearing and arguing
i turn off the telly
i say say to nk
this is much better than rock wiz
she smiles n agrees
baby bumper hears em screaming n carry on
oh wow she says
the couple go back in side
its quiet for a while
then they come back out
more expletives
shes dressed now
seems theyre both goin to maroubra now
(whats there? drugs?)
but when she goes to get in
he tricks her starts up car n tries to leave
but the bomb stalls n she starts kicking it again
dont fucking kick my car kelly!
kick kick kick
by now man over the road has come out n hes watching
the whole thing very dubiously
shes screaming n cursing like a banshee
they drive off
and its silent again
10 minutes later they reappear
and the screaming recommences
you f c m-f b piece o ‘shit! she poetically declaims
she gets out n sticks her hands in thru his window
he grunts n moans then she starts squealing like a stabbed pig
a horrible embarrassing nauseatingly caterwauling
as he does whatever hes doing to her hands
leggo my hands she screams
this is enuff for man o’er the road
he calls the fucking cops
but just before they arrive
the charming young lovers drive off
in the nick of time
the cops come and walk around with torches
but exhibit a have scarpered off to maroubra
the cops leave and…
i dinnae fuckin’ believe it
kelly n co are back again!
jesus what a night!
oh i wish you coulda been there!
ha ha ha
sob sob sob
i dont know what to feel
i hate seeing men n women doing that to each other!
but
jesus
it was better than anything on the telly..
that was that
all my yesterday
have good sunday, fiendsss
sk

fairy meadow n dapto days

when we 1 st arrived in australiai was 2 or 3 but i was already mewe at first stayed in a caravanout the back of uncle chas n aunty ivys placein unanderraaunty ivy was uncle erns sisteruncle ern was married to the infamous aunty lu-lumy dads sister as y’all rememberit seemed that everyone i mingled with was englishnext door to ivy n chas was uncle fred n aunty mayn next door to them were uncle harold n aunty doriswith their 2 teenage daughters sheila n christine(who i thought were very pretty)in fact i used to sit under the table n gaze at their feetwhich i thought were slim n tanned n perfectmy dad arrived in australia with 30 pounds to start his new lifebut things were flourishing in the 50she quickly got a job working at hg palmersa kinda white goods sales n service chainmy mum was a secretary tooand she could type hundreds of words a momentand she spoke fluent shorthandhey up n hey down mother!so she gotta job too i guesswe were living in fairy meadowin a little bungalowwe had only a couple of recordsfrank sinatra sings for only the lonely+a doris day recordand later a stereo demonstration record“let me see (sound of mans footsteps going left to right)how can i best describe the sound of stereo?”i listened to frank n doris along with my parentsoh the lyrics on frankies album were sublimeso i jumped in at a good placei puzzled over angel eyes that ole devil sentwhen frankie implored the willow to weepi knew just the willow, i could see it in my minds eyewhen the sea rushed in to plant a kiss on the shorei could feel the thrill of real adult romancemy teeth were pretty badand i had to have an op to pull some […]

when we 1 st arrived in australia
i was 2 or 3 but i was already me
we at first stayed in a caravan
out the back of uncle chas n aunty ivys place
in unanderra
aunty ivy was uncle erns sister
uncle ern was married to the infamous aunty lu-lu
my dads sister as y’all remember
it seemed that everyone i mingled with was english
next door to ivy n chas was uncle fred n aunty may
n next door to them were uncle harold n aunty doris
with their 2 teenage daughters sheila n christine
(who i thought were very pretty)
in fact i used to sit under the table n gaze at their feet
which i thought were slim n tanned n perfect
my dad arrived in australia with 30 pounds to start his new life
but things were flourishing in the 50s
he quickly got a job working at hg palmers
a kinda white goods sales n service chain
my mum was a secretary too
and she could type hundreds of words a moment
and she spoke fluent shorthand
hey up n hey down mother!
so she gotta job too i guess
we were living in fairy meadow
in a little bungalow
we had only a couple of records
frank sinatra sings for only the lonely
+a doris day record
and later a stereo demonstration record
“let me see (sound of mans footsteps going left to right)
how can i best describe the sound of stereo?”
i listened to frank n doris along with my parents
oh the lyrics on frankies album were sublime
so i jumped in at a good place
i puzzled over angel eyes that ole devil sent
when frankie implored the willow to weep
i knew just the willow, i could see it in my minds eye
when the sea rushed in to plant a kiss on the shore
i could feel the thrill of real adult romance
my teeth were pretty bad
and i had to have an op to pull some of em out
they hadda put me under n everything
maybe i’d turned four by this stage
and they did it in hospital
i can still remember them taking me home afterwards
it was night
i think my mum n dad were quite relieved i made it thru
anaesthesia was a bit more hit n miss in those days
and they bought me a white rabbit n 2 white guinea pigs
we let em runaround the garden n they were quite tame
one day my mum n me came home
and my mum said
someones dipped cotton wool in red paint
and they thrown it all over the garden
unfortunately it was the beloved rabbit n g. pigs
that had been ripped to shreds by the vicious dogs over the fence
whod jumped over in our yard….
when my mumndad went to work
i stayed either with aunty may (another one)
she was the one i liked , remember?
or sometimes
i hung out with aunty lu-lu!
gulp!
anyway one day at lu-lus i ran thru a doorway
as i did the door swung open
and i “split my head open” on the edge of the door
i had 3 stitches in my forehead, crikey , did that hurt…
and a jelly bean from the quack
gee thanks , doc!
i still have the scar there on my forehead
a little white indentation
that will never tan
i like it, actually…
after a while
my mum n dad bought a block of land in dapto
5 billabong avenue…its still there today
and we had a little fibro house built on the edge of the bush
there were frogs n lizards n birds that attacked
snakes n skinks n trees to climb
a bunch of kids to run wild with
barry, glen and neil harvey
the whittets, the maltese family called the briffas
they had a hundred kids all with names like emmanuel
which sounded strange to me
we roamed the bush getting into misadventures
chased by farmers
a gang of kids
falling out of trees, pursued by dogs
hiding from the bigger kids
stumbling across abandoned cemeteries
a real mark twain childhood
of course i was always the most timid of the bunch
the last to cross the stream n the first to run off home
a lot of houses were being built in the area
and we climbed around inside their wooden skeletons
jumping from the roofs into sand
an ice cream van
and a sweet -van came around on saturdays
i loved my licorice cigarettes
and my polar bear vanilla ice creams
after i turned 5 i started school
my 1st teacher was mrs allen
who was a little olde n cranky
on my first day i cried
and i got sent outside to cry on my own
i was crying cos i had convinced myself
that my mother would not come by
to pick me up for lunch
i was standing outside crying
when i saw her drive up
i started to laugh hysterically
half-laughing, half-crying
i wassa real playground mess
aurora has the the same trait
and i often recognize myself in her
when shes laughing/crying
i was not a popular lad
neither was i unpopular
pretty neutral in many respects
at least half the kids were english
or had english parents
it was pretty working class
i visited kids houses afterschool
that shocked me
and we were by no means livin’ it large
i saw people sitting on fruitboxes on bare floorboards
most families had dunny cans for lavatories
which were just metal buckets in an outhouse
once a week a truck came round
and blokes dressed in blue singlets
went in the yard
picked up the dunny can
and took it out to the street and emptied it in the truck
no we had a regular toilet im thankful to say
but most of em didnt
and my dad was always joking about the time
the dunny can man tried to take our next doors dunny can away
with mrs peyton still on it!
(am i blowing my mystique?)
another incident that remains etched
on my mind with razorlike clarity
was walking in the woods with my usual gang
when we met this older girl
who asked us if we’d like to see her “do a wee”
we all said yes, by all means
and lo n behold she did
and we all got an eyeful
and i went home that afternoon
feeling quite guilty n strange
our gang was ruthlessly cruel to creatures
and i remember once when we walked all the way
to kanahooka which was then wilderness
some of the older boys had these whip kinda things
and they would whip these huge one foot skinks clean in half
being the most naive n timid of the gang
i was often the butt of their pranks n jokes
i was the only one without a brother in the gang
and blood was thicker than water
when it came to a good bully
auntie lu-lu lived just round the corner
and she rained down hard on little stevens parade
i never understood how my dad had a sister like that
everything i said made her snort or go tut-tut
i wish i could have ‘er on as i am now….
she was always sayin’ how disappointed they were with me
christ, what effect was that bloody having on my infant psyche?
my “disobedience” shocked her…what was i, a german shepard?
it reminds of a school report i got from mr ferguson in 5th grade
“steven often interrupts the class with a comment
which he regards as smart,
but which is usually immature”
would ya credit that, an immature 10 year old?
actually my comments were very fucking funny, gang
if only you’d been there
i know you woulda laughed
but the kinda turkeys around in them days
just couldnt see my latent geniushood
in those dapto days it was already decided
that brian jarratt was the best fighter
and wendy fuller was the prettiest girl
i thought it only logical that they should be “together”
but wendy fuller was going for the second best fighter, gary simpson
i was secretely enamored of shirley urban
who was the second prettiest girl
but i had no rank as a fighter
and therefore my status was indeterminable
sometimes we danced together
and i nearly swooned
i really loved christmas time
and i got a crush on an older girl of seven
who played an angel in the second years nativity play
she would for years n years define how an angel looked
in my imagination
when i sang hark the herald angels sing
i thought of her
in her cotton wool wings
soon i would turn six
the future was out there waiting
beware!

memories of our holiday

in december of 1970when i was 16russell was 8john 3my father decided we would drive to surfers paradisefor christmas n new yeara big slap bang proper gee whizz holidaywe were gonna stay in ten the esplanadea new ultra modern hotel directly across from the beachin the heart of surfers paradisewhich at that time had still not undergone its transformationinto the hideous thing it is nowten the esplanade was then one of the tallest buildingsbut it was only about 5 or 6 storeysmost of s.p. was still a low level warren of little motelscoffee shops, bongo joints, amusement arcadesand kinda sleazy/bohemianit was a long long way from canberra2 days driveand my dad had bought a new car, a holden (GM)a holden premier no lesswith automatic transmission n a hazelnutwood dashboardit was my fathers first australian car..up till then hed preferred british carswe had a wolsely which we thought was the bees kneesbut our family were getting biggerso dad went and bought a holdendark green n sleek n modern it lookedthe day he turned up with iti said goodbye to my girlfriendwho lived opposite the high schoolone afternooni’d bought her a christmas present toosome mary quant make-up in a white bagwith black flowersi was very fond of my girlfriendbut i realised latershe was just having me onit all seemed so important at the timelooking back at it nowi could think she may have had another boy on the sideat any rate she was getting ready to chuck me ini just hadnt had enough experience with gurls to realise that…i can still remember her phone number…..anywaywe set off for sunny queensland shortly before christmastalk about global warming..it was pretty hot that yearand just the otherside of syddleyour brand new car broke downthe engine just seized upn that was thatour green bomb got towed […]

in december of 1970
when i was 16
russell was 8
john 3
my father decided we would drive to surfers paradise
for christmas n new year
a big slap bang proper gee whizz holiday
we were gonna stay in ten the esplanade
a new ultra modern hotel directly across from the beach
in the heart of surfers paradise
which at that time
had still not undergone its transformation
into the hideous thing it is now
ten the esplanade was then one of the tallest buildings
but it was only about 5 or 6 storeys
most of s.p. was still a low level warren of little motels
coffee shops, bongo joints, amusement arcades
and kinda sleazy/bohemian
it was a long long way from canberra
2 days drive
and my dad had bought a new car, a holden (GM)
a holden premier no less
with automatic transmission n a hazelnutwood dashboard
it was my fathers first australian car..
up till then hed preferred british cars
we had a wolsely which we thought was the bees knees
but our family were getting bigger
so dad went and bought a holden
dark green n sleek n modern it looked
the day he turned up with it
i said goodbye to my girlfriend
who lived opposite the high school
one afternoon
i’d bought her a christmas present too
some mary quant make-up in a white bag
with black flowers
i was very fond of my girlfriend
but i realised later
she was just having me on
it all seemed so important at the time
looking back at it now
i could think she may have had another boy on the side
at any rate she was getting ready to chuck me in
i just hadnt had enough experience with gurls
to realise that…
i can still remember her phone number…..
anyway
we set off for sunny queensland shortly before christmas
talk about global warming..
it was pretty hot that year
and just the otherside of syddley
our brand new car broke down
the engine just seized up
n that was that
our green bomb got towed away
and we ended up at a motel on the outskirts of gosford
for an unexpected delay of 3 or 4 days
when my dad shook the motel mans hand
they both found out they were masons
its alright said my dad
jocks a mason n hes gonna look after us
my dad called every scotsman he met jock
regardless of whatever their real name was
i wonder now if this ever irritated all the scottish “jocks” we knew
i guess it was some kind of ww11 thing…
anyway we were ensconsed in this motel in nowheresville
but i didnt care cos it hadda pool
oh chlorine n blue water
nightswimming too
down in those cool depths during that hot australian night
oh how i loved swimming pools
but always packed with people
but here at this motel
russell n i had a pool almost to ourselves
they practically hadda drag russell outta there
at the end of the day
his fingers all wrinkled from 10 straight hours in the water
the sun n the chlorine bleaching his blonde hair white
i can still see his white hair waving around in the blue water
down at the bottom
he was always suntanned too
he didnt have freckly skin like me…
he was like an otter in the water
one day i listened to the radio in our room
one after another it played 2 songs
that were maybe one n two on the charts in england then
my sweet lord by georgie h
and
ride a white swan by t-rex
wow
changes were afoot in the world
this was georges first single since the beatles
and i thought it was gorgeous
i still do
it seemed like a milestone
ride a white swan was a weird hit too
under two minutes long
ride a white swan like the people of beltane
you didnt hear lyrics like that too often in the top forty
my dad was pretty angry that his new car had blown up
and he starting smoking again
at first these wine dipped cigars with little white plastic tips
he let me try them
actually he let me smoke cigarettes too if i wanted
i guess people still hadnt got the message in 1970
and lotsa kids started smoking at home when they turned 16
my dad always smoked between 20 – 40 cigs a day
for most of his life
at first rothmans
then at the end benson n hedges special filter
eventually we got our car back with a new engine
but dad was miffed and i guess it was hard to let it go
we’d spent some time walking around gosford
smoking wine dipped cigars
dad was starting to treat me like a bloke n a friend
and i was always amazed at how mesmerising it was
to hang around with him n listen to him joke n carry on
he was a very charismatic guy n everyone liked him
i studied his ways n tried to figure out how he had this effect
and i began unravelling his modus operandis
we eventually reached surfers paradise
without further incident
our hotel WAS amazing
well i’d never seen anything like it
up on the top floor
a view of the ocean across the road
individual bedrooms
a breakfast bar with stools
mood lighting
a dishwasher!
in the courtyard was a big blue pool
in the whole time we were there
i probably only once
walked thru the gate
across the road
and swam in the sea
no i was a devoted pool addict
and i was in the pool day n nite
i started to wander round the town
and i spent my time playing pool
in the amusement arcades n feeding the juke box
3 singles for ten cents
i actually got good at pool for a while
i bought my self a green t-shirt with 3 buttons
and a pair of board shorts
my hair was long in a kinda prince valiant look
i guess i thought i was pretty cool
desperate for company
i met a bunch of jewish kids from melbourne
their parents were all billionaires in the rag trade
and they all knew each other n came up every year
the boys all had ultra short hair n “straight” clothes
the girls i cant even remember
except that they were dark
and completely ignored me
all but one of the boys called me “the christian”
and the parents were dismayed when i turned up
at their hoity toity hotel one day
i was a victim of racial discrimination!
i cut myself loose from the israelites
n i met a boy who could not have been more opposite
he had long blond hair
his mother was the cleaner at ten the esplanade
him n his mum lived together in the flat opposite our hotel
we used to go there
his mum never seemed to be home
he had an electric organ
and the bass notes were black with the sharps n flats white!
he could play all the keyboard riffs of the day
and he played me led zepplin 3
and johnny winter
and vanilla fudge
and all of inna gadda da vida by iron butterfly
i thought the bass solo was ace!
on christmas day
instead of going to auntie lu-lus house
i absconded with my pal
n played pool n roamed the arcades of s.p.
i felt deliciously grown up n independent
the next day lu-lu turned up in tears at our motel
and her husband lambasted me for not coming on xmas
“i think youd better apologise to yer aunty” he hissed at me
but lu-lu was too distraught to hear my mumbled apology
god what a fucking carry-on
she didnt like me anyway
why the hell did she care if i was there or not
another amusing incident too
which revealed that sometimes my dads sense of humour
was not infallible
my mothers brothers wifes sister turned up
with her new husband
my father made some joke about how he’d never met her before
only seen her..ha ha..dancing at last card louies…
he was just making this up in an ill guided effort to amuse
however instant pandemonium broke out…
it seems that the lady HAD been some sort of stripper
AND
the new hubby was pretty fucking sensitive about it
nice one dad
did that unleash chaos n mayhem….
on new years eve i snuck off with my friend
and he n i n a buncha his friends
bought a bottle of tequila
and went down the beach where
all
but me
drunk the tequila n then threw up
then we roamed the bars n parties
searching for “chicks”
but came away empty handed
the ladies werent falling over emselves
for our drunken n vomity crew
so we joined in a rampage
which has since mutated into “schoolies week”
where teenagers go on a bender on the gold coast
random destruction n silly behaviour
at midnight a grown women kissed me
insinuating her cigarette n champagne tongue into my mouth
wow
it was by far the most exciting night of my life so far
i took one last swim in the pool
and got to sleep just as the sun was rising over the ocean
i was pretty sad to leave this wondrous place
but we got back to canberra without incident
although my dad always hated that car
when i got back to canberra
i went down to the dry cleaners at the dickson shops
where my girlfriend worked
when i walked in she gave me a very distant
oh hello….
and those were the last words she spoke to me
that day
i hung around for a while
but i’d been exiled from her realm
for reasons i didnt understand
i slunk home dejected
ouch!
that love stuff burns!
nevermind
i had my bass guitar
and
i reapplied myself too it
doubly so because of that stupid girl
who’d crushed my stupid heart
boom boom boom

time, being to go…

i was gonna ask ya…now that y’all paying me to write thisum, well you seei need conditions6 weeks leave full pay6 weeks sick leave full pay6 weeks paternity leave full pay (backdatable 7 years)(fiendss you already owe me 3×6, 18 weeks full pay!)then miscellaneous leave 3 weeks full payfeeling a little tiddly leave kinda sad n blue leaveshore leavenot so sure leaveplease leaveby all means leaveand when youve gotten yer heads round thati need clothing allowance(hey this bricklayer gear aint cheap!)i need entertainment allowancei meanwe do a lot of entertaining herewhy, the other dayi was entertaining the idea of being an entertaining entertainer!cos every body needs to be entertained right?its what bobby d calledletting someone else get their kicks for youi mean out hereits in our constitutionwe the ozziesdemand the right to be entertainedand the wurst things getthe more entertainment we wantso fiendssya see it aint all beer n skittlesentertainment is a serious thing…you gotta fork out big time for itand then theres travel allowancenow my falcon guzzla wagondrinks petrol for brekky just standing stilleverytime i switch on that car50 acres of brazil disappearsand the oh-zone layer gasps over antarctica(wouldnt you?)so moving around to get my t.b. paraphenaliais gonna cost ya!i need “p.d.s” toothat stands for something latinand it means a little bit of extra cashon top of yer meagre wageso i dunnoa few hundred bucks n hour p.d.sfor my time n trubble beingmy laptop needs a loada upgradesn a new coat of plasticmy screen is bedimmedby the blood sweat n tears i produce each daytrying desperately to breadwin(king breadwin the 13th of brokeland)of course i got my consultancy feesmy mer-feesmy school-feesmy parking feesmy n/a feesmy geogra-feesmy etc etc etc feesare you getting the picture fiendss?you got a genius on yer leash nowyoure paying me…you can have me do anythingre-write […]

i was gonna ask ya…
now that y’all paying me to write this
um, well you see
i need conditions
6 weeks leave full pay
6 weeks sick leave full pay
6 weeks paternity leave full pay (backdatable 7 years)
(fiendss you already owe me 3×6, 18 weeks full pay!)
then miscellaneous leave 3 weeks full pay
feeling a little tiddly leave
kinda sad n blue leave
shore leave
not so sure leave
please leave
by all means leave
and when youve gotten yer heads round that
i need clothing allowance
(hey this bricklayer gear aint cheap!)
i need entertainment allowance
i mean
we do a lot of entertaining here
why, the other day
i was entertaining the idea of being
an entertaining entertainer!
cos every body needs to be entertained right?
its what bobby d called
letting someone else get their kicks for you
i mean out here
its in our constitution
we the ozzies
demand the right to be entertained
and the wurst things get
the more entertainment we want
so fiendss
ya see it aint all beer n skittles
entertainment is a serious thing…
you gotta fork out big time for it
and then theres travel allowance
now my falcon guzzla wagon
drinks petrol for brekky just standing still
everytime i switch on that car
50 acres of brazil disappears
and the oh-zone layer gasps over antarctica
(wouldnt you?)
so moving around to get my t.b. paraphenalia
is gonna cost ya!
i need “p.d.s” too
that stands for something latin
and it means a little bit of extra cash
on top of yer meagre wage
so i dunno
a few hundred bucks n hour p.d.s
for my time n trubble being
my laptop needs a loada upgrades
n a new coat of plastic
my screen is bedimmed
by the blood sweat n tears
i produce each day
trying desperately to breadwin
(king breadwin the 13th of brokeland)
of course i got my consultancy fees
my mer-fees
my school-fees
my parking fees
my n/a fees
my geogra-fees
my etc etc etc fees
are you getting the picture fiendss?
you got a genius on yer leash now
youre paying me…
you can have me do anything
re-write the bible in sk-speak?
no problem, i’ll get it done tomorra
the entire second by second account
of the chorchs 1st ever gig in pentameter n rhyme?
ok, ive already got it ready
heartbreaking sadness n chuckle provoking froth?
you want that with fries, sir?
its a big commitment being a genius patron
i’ll come running to ya
with esoteric concepts that have got me all in a blather
but which seem neither hare nor there to you
i’ll insist on doing strange things at strange times
and you’ll just have to look around embarrassed n say
heh heh im just his patron…
if we offend the vatican or the eye-a-tolla
you could get yer whatnots excommunicated
or a fat-wah
which could do some of you anorexics a bitta good
ha
you thought it was easy sponsoring a genius didnt ya?
you could whip me out at dinner parties n say
“really darling, to me rogers a fuckin’ anathema”
and then feel smug
knowing you helped pay me to write those words
if youre running round saying
baybee or vermillion or quotin’ whole chunks
and someone calls ya on it
simply produce yer paypal receipt
n say
i pay that mothers ass!
or something like that
or
why gentlemen ,
the t.b. works for ME!!
jesus
you heard of soap on a rope
im blogga on a leash
you have power of life n death
already i have received this letter
dear t. being
we, the undersigned
represent a conglomerate of subcribers
we wish to inform you
that if we dont have more
(fill in blank)
then we will cast you adrift
in the sea of poverty
and read the spanked bottom girl instead
just one of her bum cheeks pulls more punters
than you
so get to it
or yeblik ‘ll never see 53
and the t.b. ll never see one and a half
tell peter fuckin podcaste if he wants in on this scam
hes gotta get cracking
a bit of elbow grease, podcaste
you look rusty to me…
malcom turnbull donated a million bucks last nite
you think you bought me with that malcom, sir?
(what time is your yacht picking me up?)
so for those sponsors con-serned that
that bastard yeblik was gonna spend all their
hard-eked shekels on drugs
you see
malcom(sir) has now provided a budget
freeing up funds for other projects
like getting some bread n water for the flowers
and feeding the meteor
in fact
i got mah olde buddy wil-o
giving me fynancy advice
direct from mild brisbane
and he says
spend the bloody lot!
pam n perry have just opened a accountants business
for each bag o dope you buy
you get some superannuation advice free
or each taxs return scores you a free roach
out of their legendary bag of butts!
so im looking good
im thinking of investing some of this in
real fine estate
remember
its location location location
ha ha
or maybe
if nevets
or sk
or the being himself
is feeling lucky
we’ll just go down the casino
put the fuckin lot on black 13
if i win, i’ll abscond to south america
if i lose, i’ll come crying poor to ya
and youll probably “refinance” me
wouldnt ya?
i mean
we’re practically financees
engaged but not free!
any way
i do thank you for all your loot
look
i gotta go now
my attorneys out there waiting in the limo
my afghans need to be at the grooming salon
ellies pranged her lexus
minnas bringing peat docherty round for tea
so i need to get some things in
eve n auroras fees for june dally-watkins finishing skool
are due
(and its nearly finished em!)
and baby bumpers minks need cleaning
as for my self
now im rich ive taught my self to eat
lobster thermidore
i hate it like crazy
but it IS the most expensive thing on the menu
and i dont know about bombe alaska
mightnt that hurt the penguins or something?
i know what yer thinking
gee the time beings losing touch with his constituency
but thats the problem with being loaded like i am now
since this morning
im just waiting for my bank to open
im gonna light a cigar with hundred dollar note
and pelt the bag ladies with 2 dollar coins
im gonna get some cool threads n strut my stuff
me n me yappy dogs pooing all over the boardwalk
excuse me mister
i aint gonna clean that up…its art!
me in mah jewellry n rings
tommy hillfigure t-shirt
calvin klooney jockstrap
my stoned -wash genes
my white rhino leather boots
my albino tiger skin hat
my plutonium wristwatch
see the time glow being
each second a burst of fresh minty radiation
my fuck ecology, lets use it up! badge
my 10, 000 gb I!-pod
churning out a shuffle of elton n rod!
ho ho ho
im financially indy-pendant!
by enslavement have i found freedom
you, my new masters have released me
like a jeannie out of a bottle
here i stand at yer bidding
at your beck n caul
what was it you wanted again?
what?
look
hold that thought
im sorry
we’re outta time!

the dry roots crackle, the smouldering sun

summer arrives finallywarmdays82 F in my kitchenoh dear falcon is a bit of a boilerdisnae enjoy idling at lightstemper goes thru the roofi cruise out to botanyyessadaythe temp gauge goin’ up n downlike the bridesmaids knickersi praying for redlights to change their mindah sweet relief we open up on the eastern distributori got my stereo pumpin’ some ambient somethingoh noanother problem i forgot to mention1st of all the aircond hates hot days2nd it only comes out the demister vents onto windowscreenbut hardly makes any diff in ye olde cabinit was nearly a hundred yessaday out therei swelteringopen/close window nowturn off/on aircond nowoh well gives me something to do….then we do gig at san-doenot so many peopleit was okthe manager of hotel in audiencesaid play on past the curfew cos he was enjoying himselfwhatta lovely manne!!i dunnoit suddenly occurred to me on stagethat it was the same buncha tunes againthats my fault not mwpsi was too buzy/lazy to ree-hursetut tut tutif ya wanted to hear how the cherch soundswhen you take away the other 2i guess you kinda haddit therei promise 2 learn a few differents for neckst weakstill trying to be all things to all peoplesorry if i aint answered yer emails letters cards or packagesim snowed underim behindi got people chasin’ me left rite n centrewheres my fucking portrait you olde swindler/wheres my bio?wheres my lyric sheet?wheres my tax return?wheres my money?wheres my invoice?wheres my gst n my vat n my 666?wheres my thirteenth flaw n other storeys?wheres it at?whats it for?kilbey, what are you thinking, man?kilbey, what? are you thinkingman?kilbey ? what are you? thinking, man!so thats my nutshell in a lifethis blogge is one year olde!a year in life of timey bee.almost every day thru thick n thin n thick againbye bye beingbye bye

summer arrives finally
warmdays
82 F in my kitchen
oh dear
falcon is a bit of a boiler
disnae enjoy idling at lights
temper goes thru the roof
i cruise out to botany
yessaday
the temp gauge goin’ up n down
like the bridesmaids knickers
i praying for redlights to change their mind
ah sweet relief
we open up on the eastern distributor
i got my stereo pumpin’ some ambient something
oh no
another problem i forgot to mention
1st of all
the aircond hates hot days
2nd it only comes out the demister vents onto windowscreen
but hardly makes any diff in ye olde cabin
it was nearly a hundred yessaday out there
i sweltering
open/close window now
turn off/on aircond now
oh well gives me something to do….
then we do gig at san-doe
not so many people
it was ok
the manager of hotel in audience
said play on past the curfew cos he was enjoying himself
whatta lovely manne!!
i dunno
it suddenly occurred to me on stage
that it was the same buncha tunes again
thats my fault not mwps
i was too buzy/lazy to ree-hurse
tut tut tut
if ya wanted to hear how the cherch sounds
when you take away the other 2
i guess you kinda haddit there
i promise 2 learn a few differents for neckst weak
still trying to be all things to all people
sorry if i aint answered yer emails letters cards or packages
im snowed under
im behind
i got people chasin’ me left rite n centre
wheres my fucking portrait you olde swindler/
wheres my bio?
wheres my lyric sheet?
wheres my tax return?
wheres my money?
wheres my invoice?
wheres my gst n my vat n my 666?
wheres my thirteenth flaw n other storeys?
wheres it at?
whats it for?
kilbey, what are you thinking, man?
kilbey, what? are you thinkingman?
kilbey ? what are you? thinking, man!
so thats my nutshell in a life
this blogge is one year olde!
a year in life of timey bee.
almost every day thru thick n thin n thick again
bye bye being
bye bye