Australia Day in Enmore Park

Planes roaring overhead, a band with a woman lead singer doing Jimmy Barnes covers, people dancing with kids and babies, everyone with their picnic rugs, and dogs galore. Bats flapping powerfully against the breeze. Then the fireworks. It's quite a small park, and only about 50 square metres were cordoned off for the pyrotechnicians. Chrysanthemums, crackles, wagon wheels and strobes were bursting right above our heads and were incredibly close. There was no music while they were going off, which was wonderful because for the first time since I was a kid I could really hear them. They crack and crackle, screech, fizz and bang. Some sound like massive sparklers, others like surf breaking. Silver streaks wheezed their way upwards before turning into delicate stars.

David from Mount Druitt and Daniel from Marrickville

Boss, a Bull Mastiff cross Great Dane, and Beukannan, both from Marrickville

Dougall, a Boston Terrier, and Glen, both from Newtown

Sophia and Prince
"This is our local park, he's never seen so many people at his local park!"


Andrew and Grant, and their beloved Lily.


Gyoza and Sergei
"He's called Gyoza because he has ears like Japanese dumplings"


Leonie, Sunnai and Booty from Newtown


Bridge Andrews with Oscar and Bosie


Max and Marie


Mary and Lily.
Lily is half Papillon, half Chihuahua; she belongs to Mary's granddaughter Amy.


Standing, from left to right: J-me, Josh & Jika. Sitting, from left to right: Alex & Jermaine.
They all go to Marrickville High.


Margo and Sam from Enmore.


Glen Moss of Petersham and Charles Guarroch of Penrith.
They work for Marrickville Council.


Denny Burgess from Newtown

aowh... the day after

we are not well we have a headache there was partying and screaming and joyous whoops and the house was chockers and we ate a huge lebanese feast and people dressed up and someone vomited and the dog ate it before we could stop her and everyone was glued to the teve and maxine looked so radiant and delighted, and julia so pinkly pleased & modest. One of them will be Australian Prime Minister eventually but kevin will do for the time being.

Much more than a Michael Jackson impersonator

Late last year I had some emails & blogger interactions with Lucas of The Sham, about Richard Blackie, a Michael Jackson impersonator who ran a toyshop in Petersham until he died. Lucas wrote about Richard's death, then his funeral, here and here. Nobody seems to know what happened to Richard's dogs, and I wondered if one of them was Dero Dog (see links in my sidebar). Anyway, a film has been made about this remarkable character and it's showing tomorrow night. Sadly I can't go as I'm teaching, but I'll see it some other time. If you're interested, the Mu-Meson Archives venue is on the corner of Parramatta Rd & Trafalgar St Annandale at the end of the King Furniture building, up the steel staircase. Phone 9517-2010.
Thursday 30^th August
Directors Cut: Maya Newell -
RICHARD The Most Interestingest Person I've Ever Met

A stark, bittersweet, and, at times, humorous portrait of Richard Blackie - consummate eccentric, toy collector and former Michael Jackson impersonator - whose public obsessions and private torments are laid bare in this devastating portrayal of the last few months of his life. Seventeen year-old filmmaker, Maya Newell, enters the inner sanctum of Richard Blackie's extraordinary, utterly bizarre toyshop. Striking up a curious relationship with the 41-year-old toy dealer, collector and ex-Michael Jackson impersonator, Maya is given permission to document the life of this most private of private characters, and the obsessions that drive him. Maya will be live in the Archives to present her film and answerer questions about the production.

	Mu-Meson Archives
	Doors 7.30 for 8pm start
	$10 with supper

Shop of the Week - The Curry Tree

The Curry Tree isn't strictly a shop, but nor is it merely a market stall. It's a few bicycles with attitude and some passionate vegetarian curry makers. Paul customises the bicycles and tricycles (some are electric, some require pedal power) himself, adding trailers and trolleys and various cooking and serving attachments to them. A retired film caterer, he is now vehemently car-free and maintains his cooking passions with an exclusive market stall (he doesn't sell anywhere except the Addison Rd Markets). His partner Fiona, who works full time, and fourteen year old daughter Katlyn, work with him on Sundays.

Their little Jack Russell, Buster, waits patiently for things to start happening.

We tried their South Indian Banquet, for which the selection changes each week. Today they were serving a fresh chutney full of ginger and coconut, a gooey rich vegetable curry, a channa (chick pea) dhal and a nice dry potato masala with lots of curry leaves and mustard seeds, all topped with a superb yoghurt made here in Marrickville, some grilled roti and a handful of fresh rocket. This cost nine dollars and was heaps for me and Richard to share. We even accidentally dropped one quarter of the roti, which Sailor charmingly gobbled up, vomited, then re-ingested. This spectacle in no way put us off this beautiful meal.

Paul has osteo-arthritis and believes that keeping active is good for his health. He tells me that he serves "Rubies", not curries - this is English slang - Ruby Murray rhymes with curry - so if you feel like a curry you say "Anyone fancy a Ruby?"



You can also buy, for only six dollars, a paratha dosa - Indian bread topped with the channa dhal, the potato masala and a big dob of yoghurt - I dare you to compare that to any burger or kebab!

Empty Space

There's something very comforting about a spare room, don't you think? It's a place of possibility, a room unencumbered by the demands of lounging or sleeping, dining or cooking, washing, working, or even getting from one place to another, like the hallway. Since Hugh went back to live in the country I've reclaimed our spare room. I don't like to fill it up much - its appeal is in its emptiness. Teenagers crash there, my friend Zoe spends the occasional city-night, and I've set up a craft table. I've been going into the spare room lately to zone-out when there's too much going on in my brain. Like today, trying to write a piece about death & memory for Sarsaparilla, I wandered in and did this with the scissors & some glue. It's a card for Ruby, who's 17 tomorrow.

Dero Dog in with Poets

I've just received in the post a copy of Famous Reporter #34. Ralph Wessman, one of the editors of this Tasmanian literary magazine, emailed me a while back to ask if he could reprint Dero Dog in it. They've done a nice job of printing and arranging the photos. If you didn't keep on reading my posts on him you may not know that Dero Dog was eventually euthanised by the RSPCA.

I've been away, spending a few days at Mollymook with my dear friend Zoe, post the annual cultural studies association conference which this year was in Canberra. I'd convened a panel on Container Technologies, one of the areas of cultural/technological analysis that I'm interested in (and working on an edited collection about). My paper, about handbags, femininity and globalisation, was well-received and a lot of fun to write & present. I like that at many of my conference presentations members of the audience laugh... it is more flattering than you might think!

The sea at Mollymook was clear & not too cold. In the evenings - I tell a lie, usually from about 12.20pm onwards - the gin flowed, there were many girly chats & I started to read Clare Clarke's excellent The Great Stink, highly recommended by my mother who certainly knows a good book. I haven't finished it yet, but am very much hoping that the mongrel champion rat-killer dog Lady will be reunited with her beloved human Tom by the end. Their imminent parting is beautifully written, as finely calibrated as any tragic romance:

"There was a dark hole inside his chest that had already started to open. He knew it would make him dizzy when he stood up. So he stayed where he was, his knees ablaze with cramp, his arms wrapped around the dog. His hundred-guinea girl. The tears dropped on to the black velvet of her broken ear and quivered there, bright as diamonds."

I didn't take Sailor on the trip but we were accompanied by Zoe's very personable companion Toby, a rather distinguished-looking and intelligent miniature black poodle.



I returned home last night, after a week away in total, and noticed that Sailor seems to have lost some more of her wrinkles. This is what happens to pugs as they age - their face-folds reduce - the opposite of humans.



I liked this stanza of John Bird's "The Fence Rider, 1950 Australia", in Famous Reporter:

"southern cross -
sharing the universe
with dog"

My world is more like

"middle age -
sharing the old couch
with pug"

Farewell Dero Dog

The RSPCA rang this morning to tell me that Dero Dog has been assessed "not suitable for adoption" as he's shown signs of aggression. He will be put down today. I feel sad about that and will think of him all day. But I'm happy that he's been given antibiotics, pain medication and a warm place to sleep for the past few weeks. Perhaps he wouldn't agree? Maybe he'd rather be free and alive. When I put it that way there's really no question, is there?

The RSPCA is really wonderful. The people there did their best to find his owners - via a breeder's tattoo inside one of his ears - but with no luck. They spent a lot of money on medication and housing for an ancient dog that they knew would probably end up being euthanised. And they kept in touch with me and were very understanding about my feelings that they told me have a name - "rescuer's bond".

Good Dog.

Doggy Update

The German Shepherd we found wandering the streets of South Marrickville on the weekend is still alive, being cared for at the RSPCA. I've been ringing them each day and this morning spoke to a vet. She told me he's been prescribed antibiotics and pain relief and is doing well. Apparently his only serious health complaint is arthritis. He's not happy though - she said he's been agressive and "resenting handling". Although he wasn't microchipped they did find a tattoo on his ear indicating his breeder. So they've written to the breeder to find out who he was sold to - they might be able to locate his owner that way. I spoke to the vet about the possibility of adopting him if an owner can't be found. She said that I'd have to understand he will need ongoing medication for his arthritis, which will cost a bit (this in addition to the $220 adoption fee), but that I'd also have to be certain he wouldn't be a danger to the teenagers or Sailor. The RSPCA would also have to be satisfied that he wasn't too agressive before allowing him to be adopted - there's still a chance they will make a decision to euthanise him. They're giving it until 6 November to locate the owner.

Dero Dog

I set off yesterday to the Tempe Tip, otherwise known as the huge Salvation Army op-shop off the Princes Highway, planning to do a "Shop of the Week". But the daughter called as I arrived saying that she'd found a sick-looking stray dog on Illawarra Rd., so this is the blog you're getting instead.















The dog was a medium sized German Shepherd, very grizzled, thin, wolfish. He didn't look vicious but we kept our distance just in case, following him from the Liquorland down Warren Rd for a few blocks. A nice woman from Dulwich Hill & her young daughter came with us. Ruby then enticed him with a hastily purchased muffin & I slipped a lead over his neck. I thought it might be hard to get him in the car, but as soon as the back door opened he heaved himself in enthusiastically, then curled up and went to sleep!



His ears were all encrusted, his mouth raw with ulcers, his haunches covered in sores.


We drove to the RSPCA in Yagoona, only about a 20 minute trip, and signed him in. He was pretty reluctant to leave the car, poor old fella. He wasn't microchipped and the people at the desk said he looked like he'd been "out on his own" for quite a while. I rang this morning & he's still being assessed... it's likely he'll be put down, especially if he has some degenerative thing that Shepherds get where their back half slowly becomes paralysed. If he isn't euthanised, am I thinking of bringing him home to sleep out his old age? Yes. Is this sensible, financially or practically? No.

Comment-a-no-go?

Since I "upgraded" to beta blogger, not realising that "beta" means I'm a kind of guinea pig, people are having trouble commenting here. Is the problem that only beta people can communicate with other betas? Will the world be divided forever into betas and non-betas? Why can't I go back to being a non-beta? Oh oh oh. If you want to make a comment but can't, email me on meredith.r.jones@gmail.com & I'll post it for you.

Here's Sailor's take on the situation:

Dogs of Marrickville - Sailor

Sailor's full name is "Sailor the Wonderdog". She is a puppyish seven year old and quite blonde for a pug. Sailor's first couple of years were filled with surgical procedures to fix her breathing (she had her soft palate shortened and her nostrils enlarged) and also to mend a front-leg problem (she had fat taken from her butt & inserted in her wrists so she wouldn't end up bandy-legged & arthritic). To this day she hates the vet but otherwise enjoys life immensely. Despite the operation to improve breathing she is still a loud snorer even while awake. Some people find Sailor very attractive, others are grossed out by her goldfish-style eyes. Extremely food-focused, Sailor has an ongoing weight problem that is nowadays managed with a strict diet of two raw chicken wings a day. She is always on the lookout for crumbs and quickly hones in on unknowing visitors who are taken in by her woeful starved expressions. A veteran of the Cooks River circuit from Illawarra Rd to Tempe Station, Sailor meets-n-sniffs many Marrickville moggies who will be featured here in future. She is already famous because of a photo her friend Daniel took.




Baths are a terrible torture.









But rediscovering a smelly old bone makes it all better.