4/5th Sept 2010
Singapore Airport.
11.19pm local time but 1.19am as far as my Sydney arse is concerned.
Back-Of-Seat Cinema has delivered two movies: Me and Orson Welles
and Iron Man 2 – it was
like watching the same film twice!
Nothing to do now but sit here at Boarding Gate 23C in the
middle of the Asian night and think of names for this new blog.
“London Calling” has
a clear flavour of The Clash and
a possible copyright infringement. “Back In The UK...KK”
gives a nod to another popular British collective but skirts the need
for a lawyer. “Return to Pick-a-Willy Circus” recalls yet another
British institution (the utter brilliance of Benny Hill), skirts the
need for taste, but sadly lacks the ring of fiction. Even from here I
can hear the sighs of “bloody hell here we go again with the
life-choice references” and I apologise. I did not mean to belittle
your literary needs so promptly.
But come on. It rhymes with Piccadilly. It doesn't get much better
than that. I was tempted to turn Leicester Square into Lesbian
Square but ultimately lacked both the art and the FlyBys.
The temptation to
explore this enormous airport taps me on the shoulder but I shrug
like a teenage girl and pretend it didn't happen.
So if not here, where to
explore? Perhaps the recent past...
My Australian Adventure
09/10 was, if viewed from a certain angle, a lengthy scene punctuated
by disappearances. First and foremost, my mother's bladder. Many of
you are aware of her surgical escapade, and I take my hat off to her
for getting through it with her usual resilience. Like a confusing
episode of Lost, it
is something we in the family would all rather have missed.
But she lives to wee another way. For this we are grateful...as well
as impressed by the modern plumbing techniques of the medical
fraternity. They think well outside the box and would reconstruct us
to pee out our ears and breathe through our eyes if they thought it
might help. For this I thank them and encourage them in their
outlandish musings. For one day I may need to crap through my knees.
Other losses were my
aunt's gall bladder (not something you expect at 92 years of age; "What?? Now??!"), my
dear friend Julie's thyroid (look up Thyroid Storm and send her
retroactive sympathy), my back tooth (its neighbour already
gone; that area of my mouth is now entirely redneck until I get
the partial denture), much-loved Gosford local Wilma Eagle who I'm
sure went sliding into the other side with champagne glass in hand and show tune on lips (RIP Wilma), and last but by no means least my dear cat Motley. Thank
you to Terry and Nicole and Sam, and then Wendy and Mark for taking
such good care of her in my absence. She gave us all joy and I'm sure
she healed us with her purring. Everything has its time - teeth,
thyroids, bladders, cats, and us – and if this was my lesson in
Australia....I fricking got
it! OK!! So back off!
And time for a song...
Thank you Col Joye for
that popular rendition of Oh Yeah Uh Huh. Always been a
favourite of mine.
I think I'm already
jet-lagged.
But yes, ten months in a
leaky boat that seemed to be bobbing about the Bermuda Triangle what
with all the random comings and goings minus the comings.
The leaky boat reference
makes it sounds like there was nothing positive during the Aussie
Adventure and of course there was. Many happy reunions over dinners
and bottles of wine. To all who welcomed me and fed me and wined me
and apricot chickened me, I say thank you. Darts, beers, bush walks,
parties, birthdays...many many excellent memories I will now destroy
and erase with English lager.
Kidding.
Tired.
Re-boarding...
