Last week I tried to write an election post and only got this far:
I realised today that it was in the lead-up the last election that I began blogging in earnest. (Only to let this earnestness slip alarmingly in the past year). I had blogged before, about sport of all things, but it was the election and a misguided belief that THIS time it would be different that really got things firing.
Then I realised I hadn’t made one stroke of the keyboard in an effort to make any of my usual uneducated comments on things this time round. I made noises about resurrecting Psephite but most of the participants now have real grown-up jobs and have not as much time for his blogging malarkey outside their own stuff. Fair enough.
I am secretly excited about this Saturday. I say secretly because I still maintain I WILL BELIEVE IT WHEN I SEE IT. Deep down I am visualising much champagne-pouring at the election party on Saturday but there is always this nagging feeling that it is there to be lost. And they’ve done THAT before.
Comparing this campaign and the general feeling in one of the most safe Labor seats in the country I have to say that even though there is more evidence to predict a win, there is more hesitancy to claim a win just yet.
I was going to go on and describe the feeling in one of the safest Labor seats in the country. But I didn’t. And now it’s all over.
When Saturday finally got here the atmosphere in Newtown, the leftist of the left in Sydney, was quite tense. Excited, expectant but still with a sense of hesitancy. As the day wore on there was a distinct party atmosphere developing. The hesitancy was starting to wear off and people were getting ready to party. Hard. People were setting up a television at the Hub (opposite the station). It was going to get really UGLY if things didn’t go to plan.
Thankfully, they did.
I was lucky enough to get to a party in a big backyard complete with a huge television purchased for the occasion. I figured some people would be glued to it whereas others would drift in and out and chat and make noise and not really watch the progress.
As it turned out EVERYONE was glued. There was extreme nervousness early on, when it was still light. Later there was spontaneous cheering and clapping, there was gloating, there was swearing and ultimately, there was an overwhelming sense of utter relief. A lot of us had been at a party together for the last election and that endly oh so badly. The slate had been wiped clean.
I don’t expect this honeymoon to last. I’m sure there will be disappointments. There is though now the hope that with a parliament that is moving more towards true representation of who we are as a nation, there is a chance for us to feel hopeful about who we might become.
Bring it on.
Oh yeah, the line that got the biggest cheer of the night? Kerry O’Brien announcing that there had been a “huge swing to the ABC” after an update on Bennelong. How right you are Kerry.
While reading The Guardian today I came across an item about the Museum of Broken Relationships. Basically, people are asked to send in mementos of their breakup and they become part of the museum.
“A temporary space in Tacheles, a 1930s department store-turned-artists’ squad in former East Berlin, has become a donor centre for mementos of break-ups. The response has been overwhelming”.
We’ve all had our moments when we’ve wanted to shred or smash something. So, instead of say, dumping your ex’s gifts in their driveway for years after your break-up, you could donate the offending items to the Museum.
A far more constructive, artistic and meaningful gesture, yes?
(If the postage to Berlin is too much you could try visiting the online version where you can submit offending emails and SMSs).
The season crept up on me this year. The weather turned sour last weekend and the temperature has struggled to get above 20 since. So when I realised today was the first day of the First Test and the ABC was streaming Kerry O’Keefe et al right into my laptop at work, I plugged in the headphones and I immediately felt warmer, more relaxed and I could swear I smelt a touch of 30+ SPF.
When I heard Kerry O’Keefe explain away his interest in a player’s large legs, because ‘he’s a legs man’ I felt a little interest spark. Cricket has won back my heart and summer, my lovelies, is just around the corner.
The frisson of excitement just hadn’t been here this year. For a number of reasons. Life has been a little frantic. There is the split Test program, with Australia playing Sri Lanka and India rather than the exquisite pain that is 5 tests against single opposition. We’re not playing the Poms and we don’t have the blood lust that we had last year after that horrendous Ashes series in England. We don’t have the need to avenge the sight of English people winning (and I say that on behalf of peoples everywhere, not just Australia). All we’ve got is a secret wish that Murali doesn’t dare break Warne’s wickets record on AUSTRALIAN SOIL.
And here, I come to the secret crux of my lack of enthusiasm: the effing huge hole left by S.K. Warne. I do love McGill and as much as I think he has attitude (unlike some of the more automaton fast bowlers) and was glad he got the nod today ahead of Hoggy, he just doesn’t turn the ball as much. Or at least make us think he turns the ball as much. The potential of last season, the revenge, the swan-songs, the possible records, it was all a little bit special and quite possibly it is unreasonable to expect another season to live up it.
So, after Day 1 of the First Test at the Gabba, at stumps, it’s Australia 3/242 with Hussey not out on 28 and Clarke not out on 5. The day perhaps has belonged to Phil Jacques who has struggled to get a place in the Australian team for several years, despite good domestic form. With the retirement of Langer last year and an absolute shitload of runs scored in domestic matches this season he has been given another chance. Today, in his third test in the baggy green, he reached 100, only to be stumped before troubling the scorers again.
I look forward to tomorrow’s day of play and I do hope that you will join me.