you took my heart in 1979

I bumped into an old friend on the tram this morning. I haven’t seen him since I moved from Brunswick about 9 months ago. This isn’t to say that I haven’t thought about him. In my less cluttered and flustered moments I have found myself thinking about him, hoping that he is well, warm and safe from harm. A couple of months ago, a comedian with appalling facial hair wrote an article about my friend in a Saturday paper which upset me greatly, it’s one thing to make an unjudging comment about someone’s slightly eccentric behaviour which I am aware I am doing now – it’s another to blatantly poke fun at my friend to entertain readers. As fate would have it, a few weeks later I had the opportunity to give this comedian a piece of my mind and did so – full of glee.

My friend is noisy, warm, and obnoxious. He cares little for what others think of him and I revel in his open displays of disdain and happiness and this morning he was at his finest. I sat opposite him and looked up – I was happy to see him, and see him looking quite well. I have no way of contacting him so these fated sightings bring me peace of mind. He looked directly at me, smiled and asked me “where have you been?” I said to him “Hello, I’ve been around, where have you been?” He replied with a cheeky smile and said “you know where I have been! Fixing my time machine!” Of course he has! Where else would my friend be?

He filled me in on the latest modifications to his time machine whilst the man in the suit sitting next to me sniggered into his coffee. My friend remembered something and became very animated, he proclaimed “That’s right! You took my heart in 1979! You took it! With the key! You took my heart in 1979!” Anyone who knows me away from the ramblings of this blog will know that this is not possible for I am a child of the excessive eighties… Nevermind fact- my friend was convinced that I took his heart in 1979, and told everyone on the tram.

I’m sure by now you have probably worked out that my friend is quite mentally unwell and when I do see him, it is in between his admissions to psychiatric wards and hostels. He has been a victim of the overstretched mental health system for the four years that I have “known” him and at times, I find his situation very hard to cope with. Sometimes my friend is clean, sometimes my friend is dirty, sometimes he looks a little more unsettled than usual but he always has a smile on his face… After his great announcement, my friend lept from the tram and wandered off. The man in the suit turned to me and said sarcastically “Must be your lucky day eh?” and I replied with a smile “well, it must be. It’s not everyday a gentleman accuses you of taking his heart and key.”

cmx

one month later

Today (unless I have lost count which is likely) is the one month anniversary of my quitting smoking... how about that?! Apart from that first week, I can't really say that I miss them or that I am feeling the supposed benefits of quitting the cigs. I should be feeling better, my lungs and skin should be clearing and according to all of the pamphlets I have read, I should have a new lease on life. I can run a bit longer at the gym and that is about it... I probably smell better too.

I'm still waiting for all of the benefits to kick in, but I am pretty happy that it's over. I said that if I get to day 31 without smoking i would feel confident enough to call myself a non-smoker and here I am... a non-smoker.

let's call this the comeback.

Recently, my friend Jacqui and I went and saw the movie Sexdrive. Not becuase we wanted to, but becuase Jacqui, being the competition superstar that she is, won us some free tickets. Half way through the movie and most of the way through our popcorn Jacqui turned to me and said "Case, I think that might be Dieter Brummer!" My eyes grew very wide and I turned to her and whispered "holy hell, you're right!" and for the rest of the movie we sniggered like teenage girls everytime "Dieter" came on the big screen.

It turned out that it wasn't dearest Dieter afterall, it was James Marsden but it got Jacqui and I thinking... where is Dieter now? Jacqui did some research and found that Dieter had recently been spotted cleaning some windows in Flemington which prompted repeated calls for a road trip from me.

This morning post-gym I was reading the paper and noticed that Dieter has landed a role in Underbelly II. I texted Jacqui in shock - she is yet to reply which I am taking as an obvious sign that she is in shock too. We spoke of him and he has returned. Magic really. Good work Dieter... I'm looking forward to seeing your cut abs on my telly once more, hell... I may even put your poster back up on my wall.

cmx

close corners.

I have been tapped by a car on a few occasions, nothing too serious which is surprising given just how accident prone I am, but the close call I had last night was enough to really piss me off. I don't drive becuase I have the common sense to know that I would be a terrible driver. I lack focus, I lack 20/20 vision and I lack the responsibility to handle a two tonne killing machine seriously.

Last night I was walking up Nicholson St from the gym and was about to cross over Moor St. Moor St is exit only from Nicholson St - for those of you that don't know what this means it means that you can not enter Moor St from Nicholson St. NO ENTRY. I checked both ways and proceeded to cross the road when quite literally out of nowhere a very expensive cars bumper bar came heading towards my shins. I looked up in horror, jumped back onto the kerb and watched the car turn from Nicholson St into Moor St, straigh past the no entry sign.

This really shocked and angered me, and my immediate response was to throw my drink bottle at the car- which I did, whilst hurling a torrent of abuse. The man pulled his very expensive car over and yelled out the window "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" I walked up to his car and said "Well, I threw my drink bottle at you for nearly hitting me with your car and followed it up with some abuse. What do you think you're doing?" He looked a little shocked that I questioned him. He said "I'm going to have you charged with Assault!" I laughed at this and said "Go ahead, When the police ask me as to why I threw a bottle at your car I will happily explain to them that you drove the wrong way down a one way street and nearly hit me with you car. How about we pop down to the Police Station right now and sort this out?" Again, he looked at me with shock, called me a "fucking idiot" and drove off. I stood and waved until he turned off Moor St, picked up my drink bottle, put my earphones in again and wandered up Nicholson St.

As my darling friend said "Cm, when you know you're right. you are a force to be reckoned with. You gotta fight for your right.... to pedestrian safety" and that is exactly what I plan to do, projectile water bottles and all.

cmx

Saturday Morning

I was sitting in the window of Vegie Bar and the sun was shining. I had an endless supply of coffee within reach, The Age in front of me and Nina Simone as the soundtrack. On the bench seat next to me was the hand of someone I am quite smitten with... occasionally this hand would reach out for mine, brush my leg or stroke my hair- all in a comfortable silence.

It's not too often that I feel like the cat who got the cream - but meow indeed.

Open Letter

Dear Matty from the Bronx,

Your show last year was one of the highlights of what was an exceptional year of gigs for me. My ears rang, my body ached and my throat was torn to shreds for weeks afterwards. I ranted and raved about how awesome that show was for months and when it was announced that you were touring again - let’s be honest my knickers became very damp for two reasons…

Last year you broke the news that you had “replaced” half of the band, and basically amalgamated The Drips & The Bronx to form some kind of ‘White Drugs’ supergroup. I was far from happy about this news, but decided to hold off on making an opinion until I heard The Bronx III. I like The Drips enough, I adore The Bronx, I thought it might work out okay.

I’m currently listening to The Bronx III and I am so disappointed that I ache. This album fucking sucks and I’ll only be coming to your stupid show to hear your old stuff.

Matty, Fuck you for breaking up the band.

Cmx

p.s. are you curious about how much this album sucks? http://www.muchmusic.com/music/firstspin/thebronx/