Saturday, December 31, 2011

Seersucker Summer

Somethings are just under-appreciated in life: your mother's hug, properly fitted shoes, a decent dictionary, coconut covered doughnuts and seersucker clothing. It's the latter that concerns me today.

This cotton fabric could be more accurately described as "puckered pinstripes" as it is a closer reflection of how it looks. Those puckers, made from a 'slack tension' weave, allows heat to rise away from the body and negate any need to iron it. Heavily associated with the warm and humid American South, you may have seen movies where simple southern women (played by Chloris Leachman) look up sappily at their husbands (played by Fred MacMurray) and drawl, "You look so han'some in your seersucker suit." You'll cringe and think, "yeah, I'll give that a miss."

Don't. It just might save your life as it is currently saving mine.

Summer came late to Perth this year but it came on strong. This week the temperatures more than flirted with triple digits. What to wear when one is melting? Those southern gents really were on to something. Time to dig out the seersucker camp shirts and shorts. As I sit here I am wearing a red plaid seersucker camp shirt and blue floursack capris. I look like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm or LIFE magazine's Miss American MidWest. I can see two other seersucker shirts and two seersucker shorts. I never knew I owned so much...or wished I owned more. And I'll never know why Aussies wear so much polyester, and close fitting poly at that, during the hottest months. Are they nuts or just unseeing to the cool chic of crinkled cotton?

So, I'm here to tell you that the next time you are browsing through a catalog or thrift store and spot some puckered plaid clothing, drop the phony southern drawl and reach for some cash. You'll be thanking me later.

I'll save you that trouble: You're Welcome.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

The Seven Day Vegetarian

Just the other day, yet another celebrity announced the opening of their high end vegan restaurant. For many people this conjures an image of a large, fancy plate decorated with artsy swirls of soy paste sauce, centered with a tiny mound of alfalfa sprouts and organic carrot shavings. The presentation is completed with a bill for $45 handed over by a skeletal, pasty-faced waiter who hasn't cracked a smile since he last peeked beneath a sesame seed bun.

It can be a hard sell for many.

I've mentioned the carnivorous Kev before: a guy whose idea of a vegetable is meat that has turned green and who can't look at a cow without imagining it between two slices of bread or a fork in it. He is one of the great cadre of meat eaters joining Henry VIII, Attila the Hun and Fred Flintstone in the Meat Eater Hall of Fame. Vegetables have their place...usually in the home of someone else.

Recently PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) announced an Eat Vegetarian for a Week campaign. Kev got excited. I got suspicious. Kev has little patience for "bleeding heart greenies whinging about animal issues they don't deal with", so why get stirred up? PETA aside, he saw this as a challenge. Could he survive a week without meat--of any color? Eventually assured of his commitment to the concept, we started planning. First step: eat all the meat currently in the fridge.

O.K. now we're ready to start. This requires careful menu planning for meals without meat or fish --he considers eating fish to be 'cheating' by those claiming to be vegetarians. Pasta, eggplant, bulgur wheat fill out his meatless imagination and cooking ability. It will be up to me to manage the rest. It is imperative that there be leftovers so he has something to take for lunch. Twenty-one meals and counting.

Truth is, Kev fared pretty well. One day I roasted a whole bunch of root vegetables plus a squash and called it supper. He completely filled up the empty space in his gut and fled the table to distract himself from the missing main entree. Weekends-where breakfast is bacon & eggs- were particularly difficult. Surprisingly, for a guy who goes through a loaf of bread about every three days, he ate very little bread. No particular reason, maybe just totally tapping into his inner ascetic. He insists that he never cheated. Not even once.


meatlover's breakfast

So, what is the upshot of the grand experiment? No grand revelations. "What's the point?" he asked. No real protein means no real energy. "Now I know why (a co-worker) walks in slow-mo all the time." he said with a dismissive wave of a hand. The other hand was busy frying up three different kinds of meat for his first post experiment meal. Not a vegetable in sight.

The Aussie Dagwood

You might ask, does Kev eat any vegetables? Yes, but only couched in the right circumstance. Like in an Aussie-style hamburger which must include slices of beets and a fried egg. [Actually, a fried egg on anything makes it "Aussie-style".] He'll also slip in a slice of tomato and onion. Looks more like a Dagwood to me. Looks like one happy eater. Bon Apetit!

Thursday, November 3, 2011

CHOGM 2011

Perth was invaded last week.

Politicians constituted one major front, met by an army of law enforcement, witnessed by thousands of celebrating citizenry and all covered in digital detail by a battalion of media. The official code name of this action? The Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting or CHOGM (pronounced as a word, not a series of letters.) It is a biennial meeting of the British Commonwealth nations led by Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. The voluntary congress talks about issues of mutual interest (trade, immigration, polio eradication, climate change) and individual gain (nuclear power/weapons, resource attainment, operating funds to keep the country going.) Two related forums immediately precede these foreign Heads of State meetings: the Business Conference [where the host country is likely to gain some benefit from all the hoopla] and the Young People's Conference [where 21 year-olds tell themselves that they should be running countries and companies.]

Police guard VIP hotels

So what does this mean to the citizens of Perth hosting this event this year? The added security (police brought in from all states and New Zealand) especially around the ministerial hotels guarding delegations and hovering like raptors seemed a bit much. Barricades, street closures, burly men with earwigs "magging and bagging" (magnetometer and bag check) everyone and rooftop snipers being vigilant every time the Queen surfaced gave this otherwise laidback city the look and feel of being occupied by a military force.

staff security

Even the people working the event got used to forever walking (or wheeling themselves) through ID doorways despite wearing identity tags and anti-designer shirts few felons would don to get access to third tier delegates and heavily guarded national leaders. Five hundred Perthians were needed to volunteer their time to move general citizenry and dignitaries on to where they needed to be with the least amount of disruption. Hard to believe but a thousand people applied to be goodwill ambassadors of the city for this event.

CHOGM Festival corner

Not to be totally left out of the excitement the federal government was creating, the state of Western Australia sponsored a CHOGM Festival for its citizens and visitors. Concerts, community art , Speaker's Corner, public movies, Exhibitions, performances, lectures and even international athletic competitions in netball and field hockey. Something for everyone. And most of it free.

press conference prep

So where do I fit in in all this? I was one of the volunteer force with a collective resume to match any in the corporate world. Doing two days work in the busport, I was moved up into the convention center on Saturday morning. A big press conference on the eradication of polio was being held. I had the distinct pleasure of escorting some of the participating Heads of State to the media room. First, the Prime Minister of Pakistan, Gilani (not as warm and friendly as his delegate whom I found delightful) and then (drumroll, please) the Prime Minister of Australia, Julia Gillard! The PM and I shared pleasantries about the weather and the exercise we were getting trotting from one event to another ["And still not enough." "I know what you mean."] PMs Gillard and Cameron (UK) were notable amongst the lucky few volunteers to get close to any VIPs for being warm to the insignificant people leading them around. Of course they wouldn't remember us 15 seconds after we delivered them where they needed to be but their acknowledgment of our existence was as good as recognition for a job well done.

There were plenty of detractors to this whole event (we won't mention the objectors to individual rulers) usually about the amount of money spent for so little outcome. Politicians would have us believe that all this would put Perth on the real world map. I have to agree, in part, with the negative assessment. Just about everyone paid to plan and organize CHOGM was imported from the east coast, including the lowest tier people like graphic artists, volunteer liaisons and venue managers. And those folks had to be fed and housed. Yes, the CHOGM Taskforce needed 500 WA people to volunteer to help save money for their six months hotel bill. Many people started to rename CHOGM as Chaps Holidaying On Government Money. Heaven knows the state paid enough money for the Festival and additional police hours not covered by CHOGM security budget. But all that said, I hope people availed themselves of some of the culture offerings laid out for them. The party was paid for, they may as well attend.

SOME FACTOIDS

The Commonwealth:

The world’s largest and smallest, richest and poorest countries make up the Commonwealth, which is home to two billion citizens of all faiths and ethnicities – over half of whom are 25 or under. Member countries span six continents and oceans from Africa (19) to Asia (8), the Americas (2), the Caribbean (12), Europe (3) and the South Pacific (10). Some island countries have 10,000 (or less!) inhabitants.

The Commonwealth has grown from just eight members in 1949, to 54 members in 2010

The Commonwealth countries are:

St Vincent and the Grenadines

Cyprus

Nauru

United Republic of Tanzania

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The CWA Cookbook

This year at the 2011 Perth Royal Show, the CWA did not have its customary tea room-that safe haven away from the frenzied crowds where an inexpensive cup of tea and a few cookies could restore sanity. This year, it settled for a 9square foot booth extolling its virtues and selling a few classic items.

The Country Women’s Association, guardian angels of women and children all over this sunburnt land, publishes a cookbook. Actually, each state’s organization publishes their own. Western Australians have been clutching a dark blue book with white lettering now for 75 years. This was a lifeline for rural and remote families who needed resources and reassurance which could not be found close at hand.

And while there still are families in remote areas – indeed, much of Western Australia is “remote”- modern technology has closed the distance. Still, the familiar blue book remains in memory and in practice an integral part of Australian living. People can quote you the page number of their family favorite [“page 109, Chocolate Sauce Pudding”] , they’ll want to make sure the Yorkshire Pudding recipe [page 56] is right or the real name of Lemon Fizz [Lemon Swiss, page 140]. Microwave instructions have brought it up to date.

It’s not all recipes. Starting on page 379 are special hints on banishing cockroaches (boric acid), washing sparkly glassware (lemon juice in rinse water), cleaning wine stains (tomato juice) or curing warts (lime powder). For the still self-sufficient remote resident, there are instructions on how to make soap and weave doormats from “motor tubes”. Want the instructions for Dry Tanning sheepskins? Look it up on page 385.

You’ll be pleased to hear that it has an international section. I find it rather …interesting…that recipes such as Chop Suey, American Hamburger and a two ingredient (?!) Waldorf Salad are included in the American section. A rather interesting window on how Australians view our cuisine.

You might ask how well I did at the Perth Royal Show. Alas, no ribbons this year. The judges did agree that my citrus marmalade was tops in the taste department but the chunks of rind were too large for their sensibilities. Oh well. Simply beyond my ability is the single highest point winner. It is a decorated cake, a Christmas "log" with extraordinary detail in the little birds near the top of the stump, marbled tea tables outside, the Christmas tree and baker's detail and the texture of the bark. Totally drool worthy.

Monday, September 12, 2011

9/11, Ten Years On

I almost missed the terrorist attacks on the U.S. on September 11, 2001. I was on a soul/sole vacation driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway between Shenandoah and Smokey Mountain National Parks. I refused to turn on the radio during this trip, preferring calm music or specially selected books on tape, as I needed to decompress after a trying contract aboard ship. Purely coincidence, I was taking my second, and last, peak at email in a public library when one of the librarians squawked in a hushed shrill to a colleague about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. What fantastical nonsense, I thought. But her tone made me at least try to log on to one of the news services. The systems were overloaded with people looking for information, so I got none but figured there might be something to her story. Yet, still I did not turn on my car radio.

Oh, I'd catch snippets here and there, eventually. Especially with the two tourists from Germany (a magnet for malcontents looking to do harm) whom I kept bumping into on the road. We would watch the video and reports on TV in hotel lobbies (cabins don't have those luxuries) but it soon became apparent that no additional information was available and a hypnotic drone of doom was repeating itself. It was imperative that I turn away from unnecessary disturbance. When I returned to "real life" I discovered that everyone had been constantly soaking in this toxic marinade. Not just affected by the terrible news- as it indeed was- but paralyzed by the constant consumption if its images.

Just a couple of weeks after these events, my mother, her sister and I went on a cruise that would take us to Russia, Japan, South Korea and China. The world knew about the tragedy and despite language barriers let us know they shared our pain.

Ten Years Later

An anniversary of sorts, this is, world wide. Everyone is doing a 'where we were, what we thought' kind of reflection of the events. The newspaper here in Perth ran a whole series of stories by reporters there on the day, Muslims who can't believe this was done in the name of Islam, transplanted New Yorkers asked to relive the nightmare and even a story about five kids born on 9-11-2001 who have known no other world. This last story makes me smile. Or rather, the photo of the five kids makes me smile. Other than their shared birthdate, there is no reason for these randomly picked kids to be anything at all alike. And they aren't. Five different personalities pop right off the page. Who is listening to their mothers talking about an odd mix of joy and apprehension the day their babies were born?

Truthfully, I am glad to hear survivors and those directly affected by the terrorist attacks start to talk about moving on to the final stage of grieving: acceptance & recovery. It would sound heartless coming from anyone else. But I don't see a purpose in keeping them or ourselves as permanent victims. Think of Martin Luther King Jr's widow, Coretta Scott King, a woman who never had 'permission' to be anything but a professional widow. A rather sad and stilted way to spend the next 40 years of one's life.

Who could forget that day? I can't. But perhaps it is time to completely rise up from the ashes and do less weeping for and a little more celebrating of the lives that were and those that still are.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Taking the Census

One fine evening in 1970, our family broke away from our usual after-supper routine. We usually built up our collective brain power solving Two Minute Mysteries along with Dr. Haledjian, authored by Donald Sobol [a highly recommended family activity, by the way.] This night was different. We were going to do The Census. We kids had been hearing about it at school and in the media. Oh boy, we were going to take part in the once-a- decade body count of the nation! Actually, it was all rather anticlimactic. Just a few questions, nothing shockingly intrusive or brain exercising. Dad wrote in the answers to the whimpy inquiries and we moved on.

2011 OZ Census sample

Fast forward to 2011. The same media blitz exhorting residents to fill in the once-every-five-years census has been waged. But the Australian census is different. It is less a population count than a snapshot of a nation on a particular day.

An army of census workers hand delivered the 60-question booklet to every household (and then some) in the land. Everyone is to fill it out, on paper or online, on the evening of August 9, 2011 and the census workers will collect them starting August 10. The questions only concern those at that address at that time. Have company over? They get a mention on the census. Someone out of town or country (just the way Kev is in Indonesia) on the 9th? Well, they get a mention in Questions 52 & 53 for the official body count portion of it.

The sometimes incredibly nosy questions serve a further purpose to track trends for both public and private development. If half the nation were out of the country during the census, that might indicate that more money needs to be put into airports (please!) or other travel related issues. Child care or school construction issues could be raised based on census data. Who's taking care of the oldies? How many cars are on the road? And so on.

With so much more at stake, I find myself once again getting excited about the census.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Hill's Hoist

There is an umbrella farm next door to me. Planted much like a tree farm and missing canvas tops, it is a curious site indeed. Well, to a non-native.

Hill's Hoists, the very picture of Australian kitsche since the mid-40s and are found in half of every backyard across the land. It looks like an umbrella skeleton with strong line woven between the tines. Easy to use: crank the arms down so you can reach the lines. Start pinning (pegging) up your clothes  from the inside out-no need to let the neighbors see your holey underwear. Then crank it back up. The arms twirl like whirlygigs when there is a breeze  which helps hasten drying of the clothes. It is also a great way to have fun when you are little by getting a running start, grab an arm and twirl around on your own momentum.
      Of course, all this motion is no fun when a person is trying to put up or take down clothing, so there is a Breeze Brake to keep the contraption steady during this function.

      This is a treasured icon of Australian life and lore. It fits the OZ sense of kitsche (kangaroos and koalas are cliche) and no movie about the 60s leaves one out. In fact, one motion picture production company has as it's logo a kid hanging from a Hill's Hoist.   Oh, the childhood memories.
       We don't have such a clothesline in our minuscule backyard. Ours is functional, flat and collapsible to the wall of the building. No swinging on that line.   Shucks.

ePostcards from OZ