Tag Archives: Love

sixteen kinds of hurt

When my Dad was mad he’d threaten me with sixteen kinds of hurt. There was the clip over the ear; the smack on the chops; the belt across my buttocks; the gut punch; the double fisted shirt grab; the single … Continue reading

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heaven knows

The day starts with Sex Machine. James Brown shouting his chorus to my sleeping children (Get up! get on up/Get up! get on up) and I feel Bootsy’s deep bass begin the snaking energy transfer from the cold airs to … Continue reading

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a sense of north

I’ve been to a couple of gigs lately, Don Walker and Bruce Springsteen. Both were supporting new albums that no-one is really that fussed about. Bruce played in front of one hundred thousand or so, and charged a couple of … Continue reading

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Allan Moffat

Some weeks ago I found myself at woollies looking at an aluminium rendering of my Father’s hero packaged with chocolate fudge. There he was, Allan Moffat, with forty eight cubes of something related to chocolatey-ness. I stared the first time … Continue reading

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Boo Radley’s house

Gentrification is old news, it’s been going on for a long time, but not in my neighbourhood, at least not until recently. I’m part of it, we got our place fixed up, and we’ve done the renovation thing. Nice kitchen, a cleanable … Continue reading

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faith no more

Some years ago I was a casual academic. I taught classes and marked essays. It was great fun. For a fellow as quiet as me, the enforced opportunity to speak about the stuff that I knew was tremendously rewarding. I … Continue reading

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not hungry anymore

It’s twenty years or thereabouts since I moved from the country to my Nanna’s fibro by the sea, ninety minutes by train from the city. I have been reflecting recently on how keen I was back then, how desperate to … Continue reading

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