top ten things that make it worthwhile

Amateur boxing – went to a fight night recently with the kid to see some boys from back in the country in their first fights. Four boys made the journey up and three of them won, one of the boys even got fighter of the night. Watch out for the name Adam McLaren, if he keeps it up he’s gonna be something good. I’m more of a pro fan usually but this was good. So good in fact that I’ve volunteered my services as newsletter editor for SA Boxing. May as well do something with my time.

Psy/opsogist – Suffused With Static. Downloaded this from Psy/op’s site and its pretty damn neat. Slow, sliding seamless grooves, relaxed and chilled and perfect with an ice cold beer in a big frosty glass. He does the beats and moves for Solaris Earth Pipeline and he knows a lot about the muzak which makes for a great stew of sound and styles that come together so well and so relaxed. It ain’t frantic teenboy, lets impress the girls with my computerized glitch and homeboy rap, hell no, it’s a different beast altogether. Jazz licks and piano rolls, drum beats that just roll off yr speaker, this is just so cool even an old fart like me can dig it. www.myspace.com/psyopsogist

Etchings #4 – an Australian journal of words and pics. I went to the launch of #4 to look at the girls and drink but I also bought the mag (just for a change) Ryan O’Neill’s story Grieve made it all worthwhile. There were a couple of other good stories but that one struck a chord. Worth the money just for that. If you see it in yr bookshop (if there are any decent bookshops left) buy it.

Seven Inches To Freedom zine – no, not my autobiography but a really cool little zine out o’ Florida with a hardcore/punk vibe from a guy who considers himself old at 25!! Joe loves his music, that’s pretty damn obvious and he’s really laid down the words here with reviews, interviews and views on all that is punk or hardcore or whatever it is these days. I’ll admit I don’t know half/three quarter of the bands mentioned but that’s cos I am an old fart but there’s some great writing here in – especially the guide to dollar bin record buying and Diego’s piece on Mexico plus columns on music and lifestyle and the regular “my first record” stories that really made me feel old! A coupla bucks or trade to Joe Lachult 2163 Hoople St. Ft. Myers FL 33901 US of A will get you in the know. www.wtfhttrecords.com

Metal Scratches #9 has my story Cactus Killer in it and I have to admit, I love seeing a story in print, it just makes it all seem worthwhile and Metal Scratches always impresses me with the fiction they publish. Great stories and an obvious labour of love. www.metalscratches.com will get you all the details. Support them cos they obviously have good taste!

My mate Dann sent me a little parcel recently. Beezlebubby and I picked it up from the post office after school, wandered into the pub for a beer and a packet of chips as is our Friday arvo ritual and I opened the parcel to find a boxing glove inside. A name was scrawled on it but I wasn’t sure who’s. Then I read the note Dann had put in the parcel. The goddamn glove was signed by BERNARD HOPKINS! I screamed like a fangirl at her first FalloutBoy concert, Bernard fucking Hopkins, Bernard fucking Hopkins!! You couldn’t take the smile of my face. Beezle thought it was the funniest thing she’d seen for ages, her dad acting like such a fanboy. The whole night I walked around the house grinning from ear to ear and picking up the glove, showing it to beezlebubby and the Good Wife and saying “Bernard Hopkins signed this you know, Bernard fucking Hopkins.” If I was a woman I’d offer to have Dann’s babies.

Watching them Sturt Desert Peas as they stretch out across the neighbour’s driveway and continue to offer a blood red homage to life. Thinking about planting some myself out behind the shed maybe where its all weeds and rubbish right now anyway. Although that’s supposed to be for beezlebubby’s vegie patch but maybe along the side or something, just so I can step out there and look at them grow whenever things start to get to me.

Walking to the local shops the other day, sun shining, not a care in the world except maybe that I wasn’t doing any of the work I was supposed to, just walking to the shops to get a drink and some bread or something and I passed this house that always looks like he’s probably got a crop in the backyard… you know, high fence, growling dog, screen door with extra wire cos the damn dog keeps hitting it head first and busting the flyscreen, extra room being built on the back with gyprock that still ain’t painted despite the cracks already appearing (and all this on a suburban street) and then I hear it – T.Rex Electric Warrior album, crystal clear and clean and crisp and I can see thru the crack ‘tween the fence and gyprock addition that there’s a guy sitting back, beer in hand listening to this classic album and I damn near went to knock on his door but I’ve seen that damn dog hit the screen before so instead I just hang in the shadows listening to some Bolan boogie before I continue on my way to the shop but with a lighter step now and I grab some juice and food and slowly wander home, stopping again to hear more Bolan magic and soaking up the sun and just enjoying the moment before I go home slowly humming Jeepster to myself and smiling on the outside as well as the inside.

Zine Launch Party at La Boheme this past Thursday with the lads and ladesses from Analogue Apocalypse, Feminista & Corrupt Me zines plus my own splurge Sprak! … we sold a few zines, had a coupla beers, Mark Of The Beast played some spiffin’ punk rock (old and new) and I played some redneck lounge and it was a damn good time. Hell, what could be better than playing the music you would play at home anyway while sinking beers only with a better sound system?

Wrasslin time with Beezlebubby last weekend. EPW’s Deception was a night of good guys, bad guys and a late heel turn to get the fans screeching for more. We sat front row centre and got chatting to J-Rock’s family… and I found out he never lets them know what’s going to happen, which was pretty evident by the tear in his mum’s eye when he lost his bout against the new pretty boy Jimmy Scarlet. We always have a good nite at the wrasslin’ though Beezlebubby’s enthusiasm was waning early this time on account of too many school holiday late nights. Still, she made it to the end and picked the heel turn well before it happened! I didn’t. But then I’m not that bright.