I chose Bunk Brisbane as the accommodation for our ensemble for Nationals for two reasons: the first being that a Brisbane born friend suggested it when I asked her about accommodation in Qld and the second being that it was supposedly an award winning backpackers and had been on Getaway etc. But, wow, do I regret picking this place though! I'm bringing this subject up here on my blog because no site has the facility to review this place anywhere else.
I booked the accommodation for 8 people (thinking we would have 8 on our busiest night) 6 weeks before we left Adelaide. I had to change it a few weeks later to a 6 bed mixed dorm when our numbers declined and received a confirmation of our booking which was correct and stated that we had a 6 bed mixed dorm for 8 nights on Level 3 from Tuesday 18th to Tuesday 25th March. I asked for verbal confirmation also and received the same thing. All in all, I confirmed the booking 4 times. You'd think that'd be enough, right?
We arrived in Brisbane on Tuesday and 20 minutes after we landed in the state, I received a phone call from 'Kelly at Bunk Brisbane' stating that we hadn't shown up for our booking. I said to her 'the booking is for Tuesday night to Tuesday night, not Monday. I've confirmed this several times'. I told her we would be there in 10minutes and I'd sort it out then. I have a sneaking suspicion that during that time, she had to make adjustments to our booking in order to fix the mistake (I reckon she double booked our room) because when we arrived there, we were put in a downstairs room, right next to the communal laundry and cleaner's cupboard – the ass end of the complex. I didn't query it but I should have demanded we get our original room.
Turns out this room was pretty bad. In addition to having no reading lights as advertised (check out their website at http://www.bunkbrisbane.com.au/ for confirmation of this) - which was a problem as it was extremely dim, the room looked nothing like the pictures on the website. The beds had leather covers (anti-piss covers) so were extremely uncomfortable and if the person on the top bunk moved, you thought you were gonna be crushed by a falling bed. Not to mention that you were woken up from the squeaky beds. The room was fitted with an split system airconditioner set permanently to a rather warm 24ยบ. The room was stuffy and smelly with no windows to open, the toilet and shower reeked because of the lack of ventilation and the smell drifted into the sleeping areas, there were no curtains on the window so you were woken up at 5:30am to the morning sun. The room was noisy in the morning due to the cleaners and laundry. The so called 'squeaky clean' consisted of a two second mop with pine-o-cleen. I tested them out by leaving a small ball of hair in the shower. It was still there a week later. There was no real cleaning. The toilet was still gross and the toilet brush would just make it worse cos it was so old and grimy. The toilet door was broken and didn't lock. Bad luck if you were the first person to use the shower in the morning because the drain smelled so bad with the fan off all night. And bad luck if you were the last person too because the bathroom would be flooded due to the bad design of the shower so you'd come out wetter than you were when you were under the shower. The least they could have done is provide a rubber bathmat.
But the worst bit was being woken up three nights in the week in the wee hours of the morning (the first being 3:15am the night before my solo by a bunch of dickhead German backpackers having a foosball tournament in the reception area. I was so angry, I got up in my pjs to go to the reception to ask the front desk to tell them to shut up. The girl just looked at me blankly and said 'What, the TV'. I just said to her 'You are kidding me, right? You can't hear it?'. How bloody rude! And yet, they wouldn't let us put a movie on in the reception at 9pm to watch because of the noise, even though we would have been the only ones that would have been disturbed by it. Grrrr.... The reception staff were completely rude and useless. This happened three times. All it would have taken was a quick word to noisy people but they were just too damn lazy. I had particularly made an effort to tell them when I booked the accommodation that we were competing in a championships but they still put us in the noisiest room anyway. And probably all because someone was incompetent enough to stuff up our booking. The least they could have done is discount the room because of noise, like they had advertised that they did.
They closed the kitchen up at 10:30pm which is ridiculous considering that you could not have food in your rooms. The cleaning staff always seemed to do their cleaning of the kitchen at the busiest time so they just got in your way while you were trying to cook. We had a note left on our food saying 'label your food' to which I wrote back saying 'We already did. Open your eyes!'. It was quite clearly labeled. The kettle went missing on the Saturday morning but noone bothered to replace it the whole time we were there. A Tiffany kettle costs $17.00, the cheaparses. The tea towels were always soaking and the kitchen was so hot sometimes, it was almost unbearable. The microwave leaked (you could feel it cooking your insides if you stood next to it), the toaster burned your food even on the lowest setting and there were never enough cups or plates.
We asked for extra pillows as the ones on the bed were shocking and useless. They told us that they only had two extras but in their window around the corner, they had twenty new pillows on display. One of our party ended up using his quilt as a pillow. We asked for someone to fix our non-working airconditioner only to have the guy say 'I'll be there when I'm not so busy' and then stand around and flirt with some female backpackers for an hour.
We went to wash our clothes on Sunday, only to have the machine refuse to take our coins. One of our party went to get some more washing powder as ours was wasted in the non-working machine. It took him 20 minutes to explain to the clueless girl at reception what the problem was because she was too thick to get the point. And she was Australian. It wasn't like she was a temporary Swedish backpacker. Where do they find these people???
Finally, when we checked out, the girl took back our sheets and keys without even a smile or a thank you for the $1000 we had spent there that week, not to mention all the food and drink we had bought in the bar. The staff were unhelpful, rude and hopeless at their job. The place was overpriced for what it was. It was over-noisy, even for a backpackers and only because the front counter staff didn't do their jobs properly.
And yes, you'll probably say, well, it WAS a backpackers... you can't expect the Hilton. But no, I've stayed in backpackers for half the price that have been absolutely outstanding places to stay. The backpackers that we stayed in Melbourne was two dollars more a night but it was the Ritz in comparison and that was just the service alone. I stayed in a twin room in a backpackers in Launceston for $20 a night and it was better than a motel. We would have got a better sleep in a tent, I reckon, on the banks of the Brisbane river.
One of our party was quite keen to trash the room (you know, prawns in the curtains, if they had had any curtains; sour milk all over the carpet....that kind of thing) on our departure but we didn't for two reasons: One was that they had my credit card details and you know, I reckon they would be low enough to actually debit it without my permission. And the second would be that some poor bastard would have to stay in that room later because they would book it out anyway. The smell would NEVER go away and God forbid the Bunk staff would ever clean it properly. I wouldn't begrudge that on my worst enemy.
May I make a suggestion. Don't stay at Bunk Brisbane, even if you're broke and can't afford anywhere else. Stay in a caravan park if you're looking for accommodation because you'll get better quality there.
Anybody who reviews Bunk Brisbane as fantastic was obviously drunk the whole time they stayed there. And to the people at this hostel, let this be a lesson to you. A happy customer will tell one person. An unhappy one will tell 100.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Nix's Womad Wrap Up 2008
It had been quite a number of years since I had been to WOMAD for the whole weekend so last year, a friend and I vowed that we would go for the full length in 2008. And so when it came to buying tickets, I was sweating a little.At $200 a ticket, it was not cheap. But after the WOMAD weekend, I am pleased that I sacrified eating for two weeks to afford to go, regardless of the fact that the temperature was in the high 30s for the whole weekend. But I was all ready and prepared to face the nasal onslaught of B.O., incense and wacky tabacki...
Friday night introduced us to the beginning of an array of different musical cultures. The moment we got in the gate, we upheld our tradition of heading straight for the cider tent. After all, it is not WOMAD without the first pint of cider. K said that she needed the first cider in order to relax and not worry about all the things she had possibly forgotten. I just wanted cider, because I'm a pisshead.
Friday night promised us much musical variation. We chose the Joji Hirota Trio first over at the smaller Zoo stage – a Japanese Taiko percussionist trio which was a welcome beginning to the weekend, although it amazes me how physical the performance was still, regardless of the scorching heat, even in the early hours of the evening. They were full of spirit and life, although I'm not sure how that kind of performance could translate itself into a recorded performance. And it always amazes me how those percussionists can keep a steady beat but our concert band drummers can't. Damn drummers....
Following this, we decided to pick up some dinner at the Global Food area and head off to see Beirut, the first of a number of acts pre-planned to see. Beirut presented a miriad of cultures in the one band, the Lebanese influence clear in certain numbers. We were amazed to see just how many instruments one of the performers in this ensemble was able to play – we saw him play clarinet, saxophone, ukelele, euphonium, trumpet and trombone (amongst other instruments that we couldn't see because of people's big fat heads in front of us.
During this performance, we began our long winded search for Edgy's friends who were supposed to be at the same performance, although we were buggered if we could see them. But then again, when you have the instruction “We're sitting about 250m left of the sound booth, near a large tree”, I'm not surprised that we couldn't find them. What?? Trees?? In Botanic Park?? Never!
We decided to get dessert before John Butler Trio began on stage 2 but this turned out to not be the best idea. By the time we had managed to battle the long lines at the global food area, JBT had started and the crowd was MASSIVE. So we decided that it would be smarter to go find a good posi at Clube de Balanco's performance for the next hour. It was there that K decided that she was going to be the biggest nerd in history by blogging from the event, using the WiFi Internet linkup in the park. I thought I was a nerd for blogging at work, let alone at a music festival. :)
After Clube de Balanco, we decided to move over to Stage 1 so we could find a good spot to sit for Mavis Staples, the US soul singer (who I didn't know until a couple of weeks earlier when she was on the TV documentary Soul Deep on the ABC) . I have to say, by this point, I was suffering majorly from hayfever due to the dry grass and massive cloud of dust at stage 1. I was also exhausted, having worked all day in 38 degrees. The funniest part of this performance was hearing her try and pronounce Adelaide. She finally settled on Lemonade when it became too difficult. The crowd, luckily, was a very jovial, light hearted and relaxed one so didn't take it personally. I was beginning to sleep sitting down so I stood up but still couldn't see anything. I am such a short ass. This was the biggest mistake because we decided to walk home after this performance which took a lot longer than anticipated. Unfortunately I had a Witches of Eastwick rehearsal at 9am the next morning so as you can imagine, I was most enthusiastic showing up to that. Probably explains my less than tight playing...
We began our Saturday Womad experience with a spiritual journey through Indian ragas with Manjiri Kelkar. I found it amazing that her sitar player (or some similar instrument) was able to follow her improvised singing directly after she had sung a note, imitating her almost perfectly without written music. It was beautiful. After her understated, personal performance at the Speakers Corner, we travelled around the Global Art and Craft tents where K and Edgy kindly bought a dress for me that I'm not yet able to fit, but I will someday, dammit.
We then sat down on the grass ages away from stage 2 to listen to the Titi Robin Quartet, of which, I'm ashamed to say, I can't remember much. It clearly was not my favourite act as it has not ingrained much in my brain. I was more insistent on mentioning all the fantastic seed pod hats that I kept seeing and trying to convince Edgy that it would be a good couture investment.
We then headed back to the zoo to watch theJoseph Tawadros Trio, an Egyptian oud player with a percussionist and a funk jazz bass player. Very interesting indeed. I felt quite sorry for poor Joseph (without reference to Andrew Lloyd Webber....), though, as his oud kept going out of tune in the extreme heat so he probably had to cut down his set by a couple of numbers just to tune properly.
By now, it was scorchingly hot, so we were making the most of the cool down tent (a marquee with jet streams of water). We were going to watch Kutcha Edwards, for lack of a better option, but we didn't quite get there. Instead we were distracted by the wackiness of the Zic Zazou brass band musicians in a makeshift carousel. They played the most awesome version of my favourite hymn 'Abide with Me' which was like some kind of theme and variations. Their set consisted of hitting the side of the carousel like percussion, dancing around and singing songs like 'Up the Workers' which used every Aussie product icon they could think of in the lyrics. The funniest bit however was when K went up to one of the performers at the end to congratulate them on a great performance and he said to her 'We much prefer orgies”. Ha ha ha....
May I add, we still had not run into Edgy's friends, nor Nads or Anna or Steve, like we had hoped. We had however run into Nat, Big Al's daughter who came to Nationals with us. And we had run into Flexi.
We planned at this point to meet up with Edgy's friends D & D early so that we could have dinner with them. So we headed over to stage 2, determined to get a good position for John Butler Trio. We did. Right in front of the sound booth where we were easily found. Finally Edgy's friends met up with us. As expected, JBT were fantastic, with an amazing solo from the drummer and a gorgeous instrumental of which the name eludes me. But as usual, I couldn't see a bloody thing unless I stood on my real tip toes. But Edgy's friend D could see even less so I had a one up on her.
We then made the added mistake of going back to the Global Food tent where it was crazily busy with everyone deciding to eat at the same time. But the strawberry pancakes were worth the wait.
Later in the evening came the highlight of my weekend, I think. We headed over to the Moreton Bay stage under the plane trees to watch a solo act by Victor Valdes of the Mariachi band. I never thought that Mexican mariachi bands would work with a harp but it did. It was a gorgeous experience full of exuberance and poignancy. I thoroughly enjoyed it, as did the crowd around us. And it was the most friendly experience as well, the people sitting next to us engaging us in conversation (and accidently squirting K in the face...hehehehe) and had cooled down enough to be completely comfortable and relaxing. The amazing part about it was that the majority of his band was missing so it made it all the more enjoyable a performance with the harp playing multiple parts at once. Just beautiful.
Finally, we headed to the Speakers Corner where Nikodemus, the New York DJ, mixed multicultural sounds in a fantastic way. If I wasn't so tired, I would have insisted on staying longer to experience more of it. Paired with the really tasty iced chai and the even tastier guarana chocolate ball, it was a great end to a great day. And I am amazed that K still had the energy to dance heavily after the full day that we had had. But she was as pumped up as the Energizer bunny. I was, on the other hand, stuffed, like a roast rabbit. I was so glad Edgy drove that day. My own private taxi. :)
Sunday, we were luckily a little more energetic, having slept in a little after the night's events. Although we had every intention of getting there for Susanna Baca, it just didn't happen however. Come on, it was Sunday! We got there just before 1pm and completely by chance, ran into Anna and Steve who had got the great posi under some trees for the day. We watched Idan Raichel Project from the comfort of their very large picnic area next to stage 1. We caught up with our friend B and her friend M. It was B's first experience of Womad so I hope this weekend was a positive experience for her, despite the dodgy events that happened later on that night.
Since the Mariachi band were playing in full this time, we opted to go and see them instead of Watussi who also sounded really good. However, I think that the whole band playing made the performance less magical and we were slightly disappointed with the full band, opting to go to Watussi for the rest of their set. Watussi were great, a full energetic combination of rock, funk, afro cuban soul and hip hop. They were similar to many bands that I like and admire so it'll definitely be one band I'll be chasing up further in the future. I might have to spend my $20 voucher on their cd. :) And I might be checking them out if they have a gig when we're in Sydney in 2009.
It was now so hot, it was positively evil. We spent a great deal of time squirting each other with the spray bottle and recovering under the cooling-down tent. It was amusing to see the bog of mud where the water fountain had been (and apparently teenagers had been belly sliding through the mud earlier). We watched Toumani Diabate's Symmetric Orchestra from the comfort of the shade at stage 1, while I recovered from what felt like heat stroke. When we thought we had recovered sufficiently, we headed over to the shade by stage 2 to be treated to a jazz funk experience presented by Billy Cobham and his septet (featuring a saxophone member of the Daly Wilson Big Band). Although slightly lacking in the 'world music' factor, it was nevertheless a treat for lovers of modern jazz. It was dinner time and once again, we battled the crowds to get food.
The fact that the Samba Parade (featuring the familiar faces of the Billy Hyde Raider drummers that I know) went through just as we headed over to the All Star Gala didn't help my excruciating headache. I was actually quite disappointed with the All Star Gala – the best part of it was the part I had already seen. The immense skill and energy of the Joji Hirota was the only really impressive part of the gala. It was suggested by Edgy that the All Star Gala should be at the beginning of the event so you get a glimpse of what is to come and what you might like to experience in full at the festival. I totally agree. All that the All Star Gala achieved was to give people a taste of what, in a lot of cases, they had missed.
I was pleased, however, that my Sunday experience dramatically improved with my other highlight of the festival: The Terem Quartet. Consisting of an accordion, two lutes and a contra bass balalaika, the quartet were full of humour, energy and extremely impressive musicianship. They took us on a journey of Russian folk music, interspersed with humorous renditions of Bach's Toccata and Fugue and Lalo Schifrin's Mission: Impossible. The contrabass balalaika was incredible to watch and the quartet performed with tongue-in-cheek verve. They deserved the standing ovation that they received both for their music, their wacky costumes and the accordion player's funny hair.
As we returned from the Terem Quartet, I was amazed to see the massive energised crowd screaming for David D'Or on stage 1, who was entertaining the crowd with a pure Eurovision-esque performance. In hindsight, it would have been interesting to watch him earlier on in the festival but oh well, you can't watch it all. In amongst drunk dancing revellers, we took photos of the incredible work of the French pyros who decorated the Eastern part of the park with fireballs, engraved pipes and what looked to me like burning crosses. :/ When I grow up, I wanna be an arsonist like them.
We sat down at stage 3 to watch Cesaria Evora's band who were a bunch of troopers playing without their leading lady (who was in hospital in Sydney suffering from a mild stroke – I hope she has recovered okay). Despite missing their singer, the band played with great skill and musicianship, replacing the vocal line with a soprano saxophone. I thoroughly enjoyed their performance and will probably investigate a recording of this ensemble also. We then headed back via a much needed coffee fix (which I might add, succumbed to the same opinion of coffee retailers as I mentioned in my last blog post about the presence of 'large and jumbo' cups.) to the 'home base' where Anna and Steve were to get a comfortable position for Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Very Tower of Power-esque, the band were kick arse, only highlighted by the diva's presence. The crowd were very demanding of an encore but they sadly didn't get one as the band refused to reappear.
We trekked all the way to Speakers Corner to get some more iced chai for the final performance of the evening and the one I had been looking forward to: The Tibetan Monks. In 2001, I remember falling asleep to the harmonic singing as it echoed through the park air. It was beautiful.
However, several things changed this year. The first was that the beginning piece that Tenzin Choegyal and his monks performed used this kind of weird alp-horn like instrument that, I'm sorry to say, sounded quite dubious. I made the error of saying to K that one of the monks had clearly had a bad curry and it was called vindaloo for a reason. Well, that set her off pissing herself laughing and then, of course, every time it sounded, we were both in hysterics. Then, in addition, we had this guy behind us who insisted on squirting his spray bottle continually throughout the calming performance. I felt like turning around and shooting a jet stream directly in his face. But it was nevertheless a spiritual moving performance, despite these things. And was I pleased to get the damn wristicket band off my wrist!
And B, I hope you have recovered sufficiently from your nasty bout of asthma after the festival of dust and it hasn't prevented you from wanting to experience the festival next year. It would be a shame for you to miss out for that...
All in all, what makes WOMADelaide so special is that the crowds of people are amazingly relaxed, jovial and everyone is kind to everybody else. This woman who complained rudely about the food at the Indian curry place on Friday night should have been punched in the face by me – she has missed what the festival is all about. It s about cooperation ,acceptance, tolerance and world culture. Not about how a butter chicken recipe from a portable food outlet wasn't to her specifications, the stupid bitch. But she was a rarity.
It was a scorching weekend all three days and noone cared. People were dancing, screaming, jumping around and it still sold out. The park was a ball of dust, dry grass and tobacco enough to set anyone off sneezing. But noone cared.
Everybody is there purely for the music, not to cause trouble or fight or push people around. Noone complains and everyone prepares ahead of time, being sensible with sunscreen and plenty of water. SA Police and St John had hardly any real problems and that is almost unheard of in festivals. There is a remarkable lack of police (probably due to the fact that there was only one donut retailer) but there is an acceptable reason for it. Noone causes any trouble. Everyone is happy and co-operative. And always have been in the history of the festival. It is a wonderful atmosphere filled with culture and experience, a great place for young and old alike. I encourage anyone who has not experienced the festival to do their absolute best to get a ticket for next year's festival.
Even if it's just to get a fantastic pointy seed pod hat I finally got.
Best hat ever!
Friday night introduced us to the beginning of an array of different musical cultures. The moment we got in the gate, we upheld our tradition of heading straight for the cider tent. After all, it is not WOMAD without the first pint of cider. K said that she needed the first cider in order to relax and not worry about all the things she had possibly forgotten. I just wanted cider, because I'm a pisshead.
Friday night promised us much musical variation. We chose the Joji Hirota Trio first over at the smaller Zoo stage – a Japanese Taiko percussionist trio which was a welcome beginning to the weekend, although it amazes me how physical the performance was still, regardless of the scorching heat, even in the early hours of the evening. They were full of spirit and life, although I'm not sure how that kind of performance could translate itself into a recorded performance. And it always amazes me how those percussionists can keep a steady beat but our concert band drummers can't. Damn drummers....
Following this, we decided to pick up some dinner at the Global Food area and head off to see Beirut, the first of a number of acts pre-planned to see. Beirut presented a miriad of cultures in the one band, the Lebanese influence clear in certain numbers. We were amazed to see just how many instruments one of the performers in this ensemble was able to play – we saw him play clarinet, saxophone, ukelele, euphonium, trumpet and trombone (amongst other instruments that we couldn't see because of people's big fat heads in front of us.
During this performance, we began our long winded search for Edgy's friends who were supposed to be at the same performance, although we were buggered if we could see them. But then again, when you have the instruction “We're sitting about 250m left of the sound booth, near a large tree”, I'm not surprised that we couldn't find them. What?? Trees?? In Botanic Park?? Never!
We decided to get dessert before John Butler Trio began on stage 2 but this turned out to not be the best idea. By the time we had managed to battle the long lines at the global food area, JBT had started and the crowd was MASSIVE. So we decided that it would be smarter to go find a good posi at Clube de Balanco's performance for the next hour. It was there that K decided that she was going to be the biggest nerd in history by blogging from the event, using the WiFi Internet linkup in the park. I thought I was a nerd for blogging at work, let alone at a music festival. :)
After Clube de Balanco, we decided to move over to Stage 1 so we could find a good spot to sit for Mavis Staples, the US soul singer (who I didn't know until a couple of weeks earlier when she was on the TV documentary Soul Deep on the ABC) . I have to say, by this point, I was suffering majorly from hayfever due to the dry grass and massive cloud of dust at stage 1. I was also exhausted, having worked all day in 38 degrees. The funniest part of this performance was hearing her try and pronounce Adelaide. She finally settled on Lemonade when it became too difficult. The crowd, luckily, was a very jovial, light hearted and relaxed one so didn't take it personally. I was beginning to sleep sitting down so I stood up but still couldn't see anything. I am such a short ass. This was the biggest mistake because we decided to walk home after this performance which took a lot longer than anticipated. Unfortunately I had a Witches of Eastwick rehearsal at 9am the next morning so as you can imagine, I was most enthusiastic showing up to that. Probably explains my less than tight playing...
We began our Saturday Womad experience with a spiritual journey through Indian ragas with Manjiri Kelkar. I found it amazing that her sitar player (or some similar instrument) was able to follow her improvised singing directly after she had sung a note, imitating her almost perfectly without written music. It was beautiful. After her understated, personal performance at the Speakers Corner, we travelled around the Global Art and Craft tents where K and Edgy kindly bought a dress for me that I'm not yet able to fit, but I will someday, dammit.
We then sat down on the grass ages away from stage 2 to listen to the Titi Robin Quartet, of which, I'm ashamed to say, I can't remember much. It clearly was not my favourite act as it has not ingrained much in my brain. I was more insistent on mentioning all the fantastic seed pod hats that I kept seeing and trying to convince Edgy that it would be a good couture investment.
We then headed back to the zoo to watch theJoseph Tawadros Trio, an Egyptian oud player with a percussionist and a funk jazz bass player. Very interesting indeed. I felt quite sorry for poor Joseph (without reference to Andrew Lloyd Webber....), though, as his oud kept going out of tune in the extreme heat so he probably had to cut down his set by a couple of numbers just to tune properly.
By now, it was scorchingly hot, so we were making the most of the cool down tent (a marquee with jet streams of water). We were going to watch Kutcha Edwards, for lack of a better option, but we didn't quite get there. Instead we were distracted by the wackiness of the Zic Zazou brass band musicians in a makeshift carousel. They played the most awesome version of my favourite hymn 'Abide with Me' which was like some kind of theme and variations. Their set consisted of hitting the side of the carousel like percussion, dancing around and singing songs like 'Up the Workers' which used every Aussie product icon they could think of in the lyrics. The funniest bit however was when K went up to one of the performers at the end to congratulate them on a great performance and he said to her 'We much prefer orgies”. Ha ha ha....
May I add, we still had not run into Edgy's friends, nor Nads or Anna or Steve, like we had hoped. We had however run into Nat, Big Al's daughter who came to Nationals with us. And we had run into Flexi.
We planned at this point to meet up with Edgy's friends D & D early so that we could have dinner with them. So we headed over to stage 2, determined to get a good position for John Butler Trio. We did. Right in front of the sound booth where we were easily found. Finally Edgy's friends met up with us. As expected, JBT were fantastic, with an amazing solo from the drummer and a gorgeous instrumental of which the name eludes me. But as usual, I couldn't see a bloody thing unless I stood on my real tip toes. But Edgy's friend D could see even less so I had a one up on her.
We then made the added mistake of going back to the Global Food tent where it was crazily busy with everyone deciding to eat at the same time. But the strawberry pancakes were worth the wait.
Later in the evening came the highlight of my weekend, I think. We headed over to the Moreton Bay stage under the plane trees to watch a solo act by Victor Valdes of the Mariachi band. I never thought that Mexican mariachi bands would work with a harp but it did. It was a gorgeous experience full of exuberance and poignancy. I thoroughly enjoyed it, as did the crowd around us. And it was the most friendly experience as well, the people sitting next to us engaging us in conversation (and accidently squirting K in the face...hehehehe) and had cooled down enough to be completely comfortable and relaxing. The amazing part about it was that the majority of his band was missing so it made it all the more enjoyable a performance with the harp playing multiple parts at once. Just beautiful.
Finally, we headed to the Speakers Corner where Nikodemus, the New York DJ, mixed multicultural sounds in a fantastic way. If I wasn't so tired, I would have insisted on staying longer to experience more of it. Paired with the really tasty iced chai and the even tastier guarana chocolate ball, it was a great end to a great day. And I am amazed that K still had the energy to dance heavily after the full day that we had had. But she was as pumped up as the Energizer bunny. I was, on the other hand, stuffed, like a roast rabbit. I was so glad Edgy drove that day. My own private taxi. :)
Sunday, we were luckily a little more energetic, having slept in a little after the night's events. Although we had every intention of getting there for Susanna Baca, it just didn't happen however. Come on, it was Sunday! We got there just before 1pm and completely by chance, ran into Anna and Steve who had got the great posi under some trees for the day. We watched Idan Raichel Project from the comfort of their very large picnic area next to stage 1. We caught up with our friend B and her friend M. It was B's first experience of Womad so I hope this weekend was a positive experience for her, despite the dodgy events that happened later on that night.
Since the Mariachi band were playing in full this time, we opted to go and see them instead of Watussi who also sounded really good. However, I think that the whole band playing made the performance less magical and we were slightly disappointed with the full band, opting to go to Watussi for the rest of their set. Watussi were great, a full energetic combination of rock, funk, afro cuban soul and hip hop. They were similar to many bands that I like and admire so it'll definitely be one band I'll be chasing up further in the future. I might have to spend my $20 voucher on their cd. :) And I might be checking them out if they have a gig when we're in Sydney in 2009.
It was now so hot, it was positively evil. We spent a great deal of time squirting each other with the spray bottle and recovering under the cooling-down tent. It was amusing to see the bog of mud where the water fountain had been (and apparently teenagers had been belly sliding through the mud earlier). We watched Toumani Diabate's Symmetric Orchestra from the comfort of the shade at stage 1, while I recovered from what felt like heat stroke. When we thought we had recovered sufficiently, we headed over to the shade by stage 2 to be treated to a jazz funk experience presented by Billy Cobham and his septet (featuring a saxophone member of the Daly Wilson Big Band). Although slightly lacking in the 'world music' factor, it was nevertheless a treat for lovers of modern jazz. It was dinner time and once again, we battled the crowds to get food.
The fact that the Samba Parade (featuring the familiar faces of the Billy Hyde Raider drummers that I know) went through just as we headed over to the All Star Gala didn't help my excruciating headache. I was actually quite disappointed with the All Star Gala – the best part of it was the part I had already seen. The immense skill and energy of the Joji Hirota was the only really impressive part of the gala. It was suggested by Edgy that the All Star Gala should be at the beginning of the event so you get a glimpse of what is to come and what you might like to experience in full at the festival. I totally agree. All that the All Star Gala achieved was to give people a taste of what, in a lot of cases, they had missed.
I was pleased, however, that my Sunday experience dramatically improved with my other highlight of the festival: The Terem Quartet. Consisting of an accordion, two lutes and a contra bass balalaika, the quartet were full of humour, energy and extremely impressive musicianship. They took us on a journey of Russian folk music, interspersed with humorous renditions of Bach's Toccata and Fugue and Lalo Schifrin's Mission: Impossible. The contrabass balalaika was incredible to watch and the quartet performed with tongue-in-cheek verve. They deserved the standing ovation that they received both for their music, their wacky costumes and the accordion player's funny hair.
As we returned from the Terem Quartet, I was amazed to see the massive energised crowd screaming for David D'Or on stage 1, who was entertaining the crowd with a pure Eurovision-esque performance. In hindsight, it would have been interesting to watch him earlier on in the festival but oh well, you can't watch it all. In amongst drunk dancing revellers, we took photos of the incredible work of the French pyros who decorated the Eastern part of the park with fireballs, engraved pipes and what looked to me like burning crosses. :/ When I grow up, I wanna be an arsonist like them.
We sat down at stage 3 to watch Cesaria Evora's band who were a bunch of troopers playing without their leading lady (who was in hospital in Sydney suffering from a mild stroke – I hope she has recovered okay). Despite missing their singer, the band played with great skill and musicianship, replacing the vocal line with a soprano saxophone. I thoroughly enjoyed their performance and will probably investigate a recording of this ensemble also. We then headed back via a much needed coffee fix (which I might add, succumbed to the same opinion of coffee retailers as I mentioned in my last blog post about the presence of 'large and jumbo' cups.) to the 'home base' where Anna and Steve were to get a comfortable position for Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. Very Tower of Power-esque, the band were kick arse, only highlighted by the diva's presence. The crowd were very demanding of an encore but they sadly didn't get one as the band refused to reappear.
We trekked all the way to Speakers Corner to get some more iced chai for the final performance of the evening and the one I had been looking forward to: The Tibetan Monks. In 2001, I remember falling asleep to the harmonic singing as it echoed through the park air. It was beautiful.
However, several things changed this year. The first was that the beginning piece that Tenzin Choegyal and his monks performed used this kind of weird alp-horn like instrument that, I'm sorry to say, sounded quite dubious. I made the error of saying to K that one of the monks had clearly had a bad curry and it was called vindaloo for a reason. Well, that set her off pissing herself laughing and then, of course, every time it sounded, we were both in hysterics. Then, in addition, we had this guy behind us who insisted on squirting his spray bottle continually throughout the calming performance. I felt like turning around and shooting a jet stream directly in his face. But it was nevertheless a spiritual moving performance, despite these things. And was I pleased to get the damn wristicket band off my wrist!
And B, I hope you have recovered sufficiently from your nasty bout of asthma after the festival of dust and it hasn't prevented you from wanting to experience the festival next year. It would be a shame for you to miss out for that...
All in all, what makes WOMADelaide so special is that the crowds of people are amazingly relaxed, jovial and everyone is kind to everybody else. This woman who complained rudely about the food at the Indian curry place on Friday night should have been punched in the face by me – she has missed what the festival is all about. It s about cooperation ,acceptance, tolerance and world culture. Not about how a butter chicken recipe from a portable food outlet wasn't to her specifications, the stupid bitch. But she was a rarity.
It was a scorching weekend all three days and noone cared. People were dancing, screaming, jumping around and it still sold out. The park was a ball of dust, dry grass and tobacco enough to set anyone off sneezing. But noone cared.
Everybody is there purely for the music, not to cause trouble or fight or push people around. Noone complains and everyone prepares ahead of time, being sensible with sunscreen and plenty of water. SA Police and St John had hardly any real problems and that is almost unheard of in festivals. There is a remarkable lack of police (probably due to the fact that there was only one donut retailer) but there is an acceptable reason for it. Noone causes any trouble. Everyone is happy and co-operative. And always have been in the history of the festival. It is a wonderful atmosphere filled with culture and experience, a great place for young and old alike. I encourage anyone who has not experienced the festival to do their absolute best to get a ticket for next year's festival.
Even if it's just to get a fantastic pointy seed pod hat I finally got.
Best hat ever!
Monday, March 03, 2008
Nix's Whinge-A-Thon 2008
I've decided to get this all off my chest all in one go!
These are my pet peeves for 2008.
1. Teenage service attendants. Back in high school, I worked my ass off to try and get a part-time job, only to be turned down time and time again by the managers of McDonalds, Subway, Hungry Jacks, Crazy Horse..... I was a smart kid. I got good grades, had a good work ethic, I could articulate well enough and was well presented. But I never got past an interview.
But still, these days, it shits me to tears that I go into a supermarket and when I get to the counter, the 12 year old serving me says 'Hi, how are you?' WITHOUT EVEN LOOKING UP AT ME! GRRRR! I am so sick of the phony politeness that they are forced to do by their trainers, laced with insincerity. And I am fed up of having to repeat everything I say because they haven't listened the first time (even though it was them who asked the same written-out questions they ask everyone). There are so many people out there who are struggling to find work (adults particularly) who never get these jobs because the inarticulate morons they hire are cheaper to pay.
A fellow con student (who shall remain nameless) said to me a while back that at her franchised workplace, she is polite to the customers right up until about 4:45pm because it's the end of the day and then she just wants to go home because she's tired. I'm sorry but that pisses me off. The customer at 2 minutes to 5pm is just as important as the customer at 9am or at 1:30pm. Don't they teach that when they train their staff??????
The majority of teenage service attendants are rude, insincere and act like they don't want to be there. And yet, me, a willing polite and efficient kid, never got those jobs. It makes me angry. I stopped off at McDonalds a while back at Collinswood where this young girl served me at the drive through. She was gorgeous - she greeted me with a massive smile, got my order right without me having to repeat myself and was genuinely polite and helpful. What time was it, you might ask?
It was 3am. I felt like sending her a big bunch of flowers for being the first teenager to be polite to me ever in a fast food drive through.
2. Fast food restaurant lingo. Billy Connelly once said that it pisses him off when McDonalds won't understand that you want a chicken burger unless there's a Mc in front of it. He basically goes 'How about I stick a McFork in your McFucking McEyeball?'
Ay ay to that. The other morning, I stopped off at a BP On the Run to grab a coffee before work. I went up to the counter and ordered a large latte. Pretty simple order. And the girl looked at me blankly and said 'What size?'. So I said, "uh, the largest one". and she says "Do you mean the grande or the max"? I said to her, "the largest one". And it still took her 2 minutes to work it out. And even then, as she grabbed the wrong sized cup, I had to correct her.
Since when has 'small, medium, large and extra-large' become difficult to understand? Why the f**k do coffee franchises and fast food restaurants change the standard names on their products to make it difficult for their customers to order anything. They just DON'T understand if you don't order it in their stupid '"El Smallo, Regulatory and Gargantuan". I order a large latte just simply because it's even harder to order a medium one. I'm waiting for the day they name the size of the cups the same way they label tampons 'Mini, Regular and Super'.
3. People who mispronounce words (either deliberately or accidently). The use of the English language has become so lazy these days. If I hear one more person that says 'appree SEE ate' instead of appreeSHEEate', I will scream!!!!!! It gets my hackles up big time. That goes for 'vi-tamins' instead of VY-tamines. And HA-rassment instead of ha-RASS-ment.
South Australia is fast becoming New South Wales in their increasingly lazy pronunciation. We are fast becoming the state of 'Skew-uls' (instead of Skool) and 'Grafs' (instead of Grah-fs) and 'Ca-sel' (instead of Cah-sel). Oh and don't even get me started on people who say 'be-corrrs' instead of 'be-coz'.
4. People who diss Adelaide. The Adelaide vs Melbourne debate has been on everybody's lips lately. But have you noticed that there are no born-and-bred South Aussies dissing Adelaide? The only ones who are criticising Adelaide are people who have left our state now or have moved here from the eastern states. So all this stuff about how even South Aussies are criticising Adelaide is a load of bollocks. The majority of Adelaideans love Adelaide. They choose to live here because its a great city. It may not be the entertainment central of Australia or a great leader in innovation, architecture and business. But that's what makes it great. It's a sleepy little town that's friendly, warm and inviting.
It's the fact that we can walk from one side of the CBD to the other in 10 minutes. It's the fact that we don't have to pay $10 to get on public transport each day. It's the fact that visitors arrive through the Adelaide hills when driving in from Melbourne or Sydney- sure beats the shit heap that is Deer Park.
It's the fact that we don't have to buy interstate wine to get a nice drop to have with our dinner. It's the fact that the skyline hasn't been tainted yet by the ugliness of high rises. I don't live here because I want us to be a state that's moving forward in business, innovation and tourism. I live here because its my home and I never feel like I'm being overwhelmed by bustle and the architectural equivalent of a wet fart.
As far as I'm concerned, the people who don't like Adelaide can fuck off and stay away. Those who live here now (that were originally from other states) can go back where they came from and leave those of us who love our little city in peace.
5. Unqualified or illeducated instrumental music teachers. People who are attempting to make money out of teaching instruments, regardless of whether they are qualified to do so, really piss me off. I am so sick and tired of correcting terrible technique because the teachers my students have come from have not taught them the right way. There are generations of people who think that just because they can get a note out of the instrument, that gives them the skill to teach. WRONG! All it does is frustrate the students who, for the rest of their playing lives, struggle with certain things due to poor technique. Some just simply give up because it's all too hard for them to get over. Others unfortunately become teachers too and pass their bad habits on to their students.
I had a mature age student a while back who I charged $20 per half hour to teach. This is a standard rate - if not, a bit under the going rate these days. One day, suddenly, he said to me, I'm gonna learn from a lady next door who charges $10 a lesson. I asked him if she was a qualified teacher or a professional player. He said 'no, she was just a lady who had played clarinet for a while'. I later found out that the teacher he had gone to was a woman in a band that I had played in who had some of the worst technical habits I had ever seen. I just felt quite despondent that I was losing a good capable student to a woman who was, no doubt, going to destroy his potential. And all for the sake of $10. Besides the fact that people like that, giving substandard tuition, make it twice as hard for us qualified teachers to make a living because they are taking all our students by charging half our rate.
6. The Clipsal 500 and the dickhead drivers that it produces. This basically applies to anyone driving a Holden or Ford V6 and highter or turbo charged Nissan.
The Clipsal 500 is the bane of my existence. In addition to causing no end of traffic jams in the eastern suburbs (for which the residents should be compensated in their council rates), in turn causing a mass increase in greenhouse gases from idling cars, it produces a multitude of extra wankers on the road. The Clipsal 500 encourages every idiot with a V6 or higher to imitate the people they've just seen on the track for the next month. I am scared to be on the road in March for fear of being wiped out by some testosterone-charged bastard with a licence and a high powered (and might I add, ordinary) car.
The one major problem with working in the northern/north eastern suburbs are the dickhead drivers I face everyday. The other day I was driving in an 80 zone towards Mawson Lakes and this dangerous prick drove up behind me, got within 2 metres of me before changing lanes and sped past me at double my speed. When he went to cut in front of me, he lost control and spun out, narrowly missing me by a metre or so, before ending up on the side of the road next to me. I almost had a heart attack. If he had hit me, I would have been wiped out completely - my life would have been over. All because this fuckwit decided to exert his driving authority over me. I was so angry that I felt myself wishing that he'd rolled his car into a tree.
I am so sick of wankers in Commodores tailgating me all the time. The problem is, even if they don't change lanes to pass me, they sit behind so close that I find myself having to speed in order to get a safe distance away from them. Where the friggin' hell are the cops?????? I have yet to see a single police car monitoring this on the stretch between Montague Road and Mawson Lakes Boulevard. And yet, the radars are unfairly positioned 2 metres into the 60 zone as it drops from 80 at the tollgate on the South Eastern freeway, where drivers struggle to get their speed down enough without wearing out their brakes. Where's the equality?
Why the hell do we need cars that can go 200 kmph when the maximum speed is 110 anywhere in South Australia? Cars should be made to be speed limited by law. And no person under the age of 25 should be allowed the privilege of a high powered car of any sort (and not be allowed to travel with more than one passenger under the age of 25 also).
7. The fact that concert bands in Australia get no support. Basically, concert bands are treated like crap in Australia. We live in a very brass band orientated community and so those of us that play saxophone, clarinet, flute, oboe and bassoon, have very little opportunity for a musical outlet. The fact that there are 12 people in TOTAL in the concert solos this year in Brisbane is shameful (particularly since at least 2 of those are brass players). I am taking 3 days off work to compete against myself. How unfair is that? Where is the support and encouragement for concert bands? The possibilities that a concert band presents are much more versatile than a brass band (as much as I love the brass band sound). It is very different, rich in timbres and much easier to play a more versatile program.
If this was the US, it wouldn't be the case as there is a very large band community in the states but here, it's virtually non-existent. I'm worried that I will have to move interstate even to play for fun soon because the South Australian concert band community is struggling to maintain a decent standard.
Let's give some more support to our woodwind players who quite often present as high a standard of performance as brass players.
8. Rich people who assume that everyone is exactly like them. I have never had much money. Ever. We were always struggling as a family and now as I am independent, that is still the case. I work my ass off for much less than someone else doing the same hours (I can think of a few friends who are a good example of the latter). It's extremely frustrating. But what is more frustrating is the people who just assume that they are the most important thing to be paid and take no consideration to the fact that maybe they are not my highest priority. Take for example, the bank.
I hate the bank I'm with. I have been increasingly more disappointed with the substandard service they are offering their customers. And this last incident has taken the cake for me and has forced me to make the decision to move my money elsewhere after 29 years.
I have two accounts. One was overdrawn by $137. The other account - my business account - had over a thousand. On Monday last week, I transferred the thousand into another investment account with another financial institution. But of course, it doesn't happen for a day or so. So I was assuming the next morning that I would have $55 in the account still to pay for the petrol I put in my car. But no, my account bounced when I tried to pay for the petrol. How humiliating. So I left my mobile phone there as collateral and went to work. I called the bank and they told me that because one of my accounts was overdrawn, they had taken $137 out of my business account to pay the debt. So this had now overdrawn my business account by $80 (because of the $1000 that had come out at the same time).
Well I, to put it mildly, spat the dummy. How dare they take money out of an account that has nothing to do with the overdrawn one. Just because it's with the same bank doesn't give them the right to steal money out my account. Anyway, the collections guy I talked to at the bank recognised that what they had done was illegal and transferred $137 back into my business account.
Three days later I got home to find a letter stating that I had been charged a $38 fee for overdrawing that account. And it has now taken almost a week and I still have not been reimbursed for that money. How the HELL can they get away with this stuff? My account was NEVER overdrawn. There is no record of an overdrawn account on my transaction list and surely if they override their decision, the fees should be overriden too as it was not my fault. I'm so fed up. What makes them think that they are the most important people that I need to pay. They have received literally hundreds of dollars from me in the last couple of years in fees and charges. I have rent, electricity, food to buy. How dare they? So all because they decided to break the law, they've just lost a customer that has been with them since she was born. I've had enough.
Anyway, that's enough whinging for one day. Phew!
These are my pet peeves for 2008.
1. Teenage service attendants. Back in high school, I worked my ass off to try and get a part-time job, only to be turned down time and time again by the managers of McDonalds, Subway, Hungry Jacks, Crazy Horse..... I was a smart kid. I got good grades, had a good work ethic, I could articulate well enough and was well presented. But I never got past an interview.
But still, these days, it shits me to tears that I go into a supermarket and when I get to the counter, the 12 year old serving me says 'Hi, how are you?' WITHOUT EVEN LOOKING UP AT ME! GRRRR! I am so sick of the phony politeness that they are forced to do by their trainers, laced with insincerity. And I am fed up of having to repeat everything I say because they haven't listened the first time (even though it was them who asked the same written-out questions they ask everyone). There are so many people out there who are struggling to find work (adults particularly) who never get these jobs because the inarticulate morons they hire are cheaper to pay.
A fellow con student (who shall remain nameless) said to me a while back that at her franchised workplace, she is polite to the customers right up until about 4:45pm because it's the end of the day and then she just wants to go home because she's tired. I'm sorry but that pisses me off. The customer at 2 minutes to 5pm is just as important as the customer at 9am or at 1:30pm. Don't they teach that when they train their staff??????
The majority of teenage service attendants are rude, insincere and act like they don't want to be there. And yet, me, a willing polite and efficient kid, never got those jobs. It makes me angry. I stopped off at McDonalds a while back at Collinswood where this young girl served me at the drive through. She was gorgeous - she greeted me with a massive smile, got my order right without me having to repeat myself and was genuinely polite and helpful. What time was it, you might ask?
It was 3am. I felt like sending her a big bunch of flowers for being the first teenager to be polite to me ever in a fast food drive through.
2. Fast food restaurant lingo. Billy Connelly once said that it pisses him off when McDonalds won't understand that you want a chicken burger unless there's a Mc in front of it. He basically goes 'How about I stick a McFork in your McFucking McEyeball?'
Ay ay to that. The other morning, I stopped off at a BP On the Run to grab a coffee before work. I went up to the counter and ordered a large latte. Pretty simple order. And the girl looked at me blankly and said 'What size?'. So I said, "uh, the largest one". and she says "Do you mean the grande or the max"? I said to her, "the largest one". And it still took her 2 minutes to work it out. And even then, as she grabbed the wrong sized cup, I had to correct her.
Since when has 'small, medium, large and extra-large' become difficult to understand? Why the f**k do coffee franchises and fast food restaurants change the standard names on their products to make it difficult for their customers to order anything. They just DON'T understand if you don't order it in their stupid '"El Smallo, Regulatory and Gargantuan". I order a large latte just simply because it's even harder to order a medium one. I'm waiting for the day they name the size of the cups the same way they label tampons 'Mini, Regular and Super'.
3. People who mispronounce words (either deliberately or accidently). The use of the English language has become so lazy these days. If I hear one more person that says 'appree SEE ate' instead of appreeSHEEate', I will scream!!!!!! It gets my hackles up big time. That goes for 'vi-tamins' instead of VY-tamines. And HA-rassment instead of ha-RASS-ment.
South Australia is fast becoming New South Wales in their increasingly lazy pronunciation. We are fast becoming the state of 'Skew-uls' (instead of Skool) and 'Grafs' (instead of Grah-fs) and 'Ca-sel' (instead of Cah-sel). Oh and don't even get me started on people who say 'be-corrrs' instead of 'be-coz'.
4. People who diss Adelaide. The Adelaide vs Melbourne debate has been on everybody's lips lately. But have you noticed that there are no born-and-bred South Aussies dissing Adelaide? The only ones who are criticising Adelaide are people who have left our state now or have moved here from the eastern states. So all this stuff about how even South Aussies are criticising Adelaide is a load of bollocks. The majority of Adelaideans love Adelaide. They choose to live here because its a great city. It may not be the entertainment central of Australia or a great leader in innovation, architecture and business. But that's what makes it great. It's a sleepy little town that's friendly, warm and inviting.
It's the fact that we can walk from one side of the CBD to the other in 10 minutes. It's the fact that we don't have to pay $10 to get on public transport each day. It's the fact that visitors arrive through the Adelaide hills when driving in from Melbourne or Sydney- sure beats the shit heap that is Deer Park.
It's the fact that we don't have to buy interstate wine to get a nice drop to have with our dinner. It's the fact that the skyline hasn't been tainted yet by the ugliness of high rises. I don't live here because I want us to be a state that's moving forward in business, innovation and tourism. I live here because its my home and I never feel like I'm being overwhelmed by bustle and the architectural equivalent of a wet fart.
As far as I'm concerned, the people who don't like Adelaide can fuck off and stay away. Those who live here now (that were originally from other states) can go back where they came from and leave those of us who love our little city in peace.
5. Unqualified or illeducated instrumental music teachers. People who are attempting to make money out of teaching instruments, regardless of whether they are qualified to do so, really piss me off. I am so sick and tired of correcting terrible technique because the teachers my students have come from have not taught them the right way. There are generations of people who think that just because they can get a note out of the instrument, that gives them the skill to teach. WRONG! All it does is frustrate the students who, for the rest of their playing lives, struggle with certain things due to poor technique. Some just simply give up because it's all too hard for them to get over. Others unfortunately become teachers too and pass their bad habits on to their students.
I had a mature age student a while back who I charged $20 per half hour to teach. This is a standard rate - if not, a bit under the going rate these days. One day, suddenly, he said to me, I'm gonna learn from a lady next door who charges $10 a lesson. I asked him if she was a qualified teacher or a professional player. He said 'no, she was just a lady who had played clarinet for a while'. I later found out that the teacher he had gone to was a woman in a band that I had played in who had some of the worst technical habits I had ever seen. I just felt quite despondent that I was losing a good capable student to a woman who was, no doubt, going to destroy his potential. And all for the sake of $10. Besides the fact that people like that, giving substandard tuition, make it twice as hard for us qualified teachers to make a living because they are taking all our students by charging half our rate.
6. The Clipsal 500 and the dickhead drivers that it produces. This basically applies to anyone driving a Holden or Ford V6 and highter or turbo charged Nissan.
The Clipsal 500 is the bane of my existence. In addition to causing no end of traffic jams in the eastern suburbs (for which the residents should be compensated in their council rates), in turn causing a mass increase in greenhouse gases from idling cars, it produces a multitude of extra wankers on the road. The Clipsal 500 encourages every idiot with a V6 or higher to imitate the people they've just seen on the track for the next month. I am scared to be on the road in March for fear of being wiped out by some testosterone-charged bastard with a licence and a high powered (and might I add, ordinary) car.
The one major problem with working in the northern/north eastern suburbs are the dickhead drivers I face everyday. The other day I was driving in an 80 zone towards Mawson Lakes and this dangerous prick drove up behind me, got within 2 metres of me before changing lanes and sped past me at double my speed. When he went to cut in front of me, he lost control and spun out, narrowly missing me by a metre or so, before ending up on the side of the road next to me. I almost had a heart attack. If he had hit me, I would have been wiped out completely - my life would have been over. All because this fuckwit decided to exert his driving authority over me. I was so angry that I felt myself wishing that he'd rolled his car into a tree.
I am so sick of wankers in Commodores tailgating me all the time. The problem is, even if they don't change lanes to pass me, they sit behind so close that I find myself having to speed in order to get a safe distance away from them. Where the friggin' hell are the cops?????? I have yet to see a single police car monitoring this on the stretch between Montague Road and Mawson Lakes Boulevard. And yet, the radars are unfairly positioned 2 metres into the 60 zone as it drops from 80 at the tollgate on the South Eastern freeway, where drivers struggle to get their speed down enough without wearing out their brakes. Where's the equality?
Why the hell do we need cars that can go 200 kmph when the maximum speed is 110 anywhere in South Australia? Cars should be made to be speed limited by law. And no person under the age of 25 should be allowed the privilege of a high powered car of any sort (and not be allowed to travel with more than one passenger under the age of 25 also).
7. The fact that concert bands in Australia get no support. Basically, concert bands are treated like crap in Australia. We live in a very brass band orientated community and so those of us that play saxophone, clarinet, flute, oboe and bassoon, have very little opportunity for a musical outlet. The fact that there are 12 people in TOTAL in the concert solos this year in Brisbane is shameful (particularly since at least 2 of those are brass players). I am taking 3 days off work to compete against myself. How unfair is that? Where is the support and encouragement for concert bands? The possibilities that a concert band presents are much more versatile than a brass band (as much as I love the brass band sound). It is very different, rich in timbres and much easier to play a more versatile program.
If this was the US, it wouldn't be the case as there is a very large band community in the states but here, it's virtually non-existent. I'm worried that I will have to move interstate even to play for fun soon because the South Australian concert band community is struggling to maintain a decent standard.
Let's give some more support to our woodwind players who quite often present as high a standard of performance as brass players.
8. Rich people who assume that everyone is exactly like them. I have never had much money. Ever. We were always struggling as a family and now as I am independent, that is still the case. I work my ass off for much less than someone else doing the same hours (I can think of a few friends who are a good example of the latter). It's extremely frustrating. But what is more frustrating is the people who just assume that they are the most important thing to be paid and take no consideration to the fact that maybe they are not my highest priority. Take for example, the bank.
I hate the bank I'm with. I have been increasingly more disappointed with the substandard service they are offering their customers. And this last incident has taken the cake for me and has forced me to make the decision to move my money elsewhere after 29 years.
I have two accounts. One was overdrawn by $137. The other account - my business account - had over a thousand. On Monday last week, I transferred the thousand into another investment account with another financial institution. But of course, it doesn't happen for a day or so. So I was assuming the next morning that I would have $55 in the account still to pay for the petrol I put in my car. But no, my account bounced when I tried to pay for the petrol. How humiliating. So I left my mobile phone there as collateral and went to work. I called the bank and they told me that because one of my accounts was overdrawn, they had taken $137 out of my business account to pay the debt. So this had now overdrawn my business account by $80 (because of the $1000 that had come out at the same time).
Well I, to put it mildly, spat the dummy. How dare they take money out of an account that has nothing to do with the overdrawn one. Just because it's with the same bank doesn't give them the right to steal money out my account. Anyway, the collections guy I talked to at the bank recognised that what they had done was illegal and transferred $137 back into my business account.
Three days later I got home to find a letter stating that I had been charged a $38 fee for overdrawing that account. And it has now taken almost a week and I still have not been reimbursed for that money. How the HELL can they get away with this stuff? My account was NEVER overdrawn. There is no record of an overdrawn account on my transaction list and surely if they override their decision, the fees should be overriden too as it was not my fault. I'm so fed up. What makes them think that they are the most important people that I need to pay. They have received literally hundreds of dollars from me in the last couple of years in fees and charges. I have rent, electricity, food to buy. How dare they? So all because they decided to break the law, they've just lost a customer that has been with them since she was born. I've had enough.
Anyway, that's enough whinging for one day. Phew!
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