Apr 2024 – sillysocksonfriday

I’m an old country boy

An old friend came to town from up North and said let’s catch up somewhere.

We decided on a 10 a.m. brunch in a cafe near the central station and his flat. I am somewhat of a hermit and get lost easily, so hate going into the city.

I have never worked or lived in a city except Salisbury in the 1970’s, which was really a large town with mild traffic in those days. Then 10 years ago in Australia, I commuted by train to an inner suburb from an outer suburb for 2 months – I still shudder…

Timetables were checked and the way to the cafe (just 7 minutes walk) and I had my phone… so girded my loins.

Only had to wait 12 minutes for the train (better early than never..). There was a seat near the door, pity about the school trip into the city. Young people can chatter!

Got to Central station without mishap. Found an exit, hobbled down stairs … left or right? Go right … oops! should be heading to Ann Street, which is the other way. More stairs… Just as well I had allowed an extra 10 minutes to find my way.

There are a lot of people in a city; why are they all on the same pavement as me?All looking purposeful and calm, politely sidestepping my hesitant shambling amble.

Ann Street, go right to Edward Street – easy peasy, only 100m to go, cross to the left, down the hill. Hmmm! better check my phone map. It says destination 9 minutes away – I’d thought it was 7 from the station..? Carry on and find a landmark to check if you are going the right way.

Can’t read street names on map; Yikes! it now says 11 minutes from destination!

So back up the hill I trudge, past Ann Street. Now 5 minutes late and at a wiggly crossroads where my phone map says cross left then right then do a wiggle and you are there. Confused I gaze about seeking clues…

Ting! A message no doubt asking where am I. My friend knows me well. It says: “Do u know where you going? There is no signage but in the snazzy building at the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder behind the revolving door!“

I look up and there across the road is a revolving door. I felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland searching for the White Rabbit. I found him behind the revolving door.

We had a good old friend reunion, which was reasuring. I almost envied his cool equilibrium about visiting the city, but remembered he had worked in Durban City for many years.

Finding my way back was easy, I even found a shortcut by reading the signs. Waited only 7 minutes for a train and had remembered to go to the loo, so there was no stress.

I am so glad I am a country boy, so glad that I will not be around in 50 years when it will be like a city everywhere, unless you travel miles inland … for a while.

The Eve of Destruction

Barry Maguire, once a hippy rocker lately into gospel music, sang the title song which was written by PF Sloan.

Listen and tremble. : The Eve of Destruction

Then there is Buffy Sainte Marie’s Universal Soldier

All of 50 years ago, they made my Mum cry when I played them.

They make me cry now. Especially now, as we in Australia and New Zealand gather to honour the sacrifice and courage of our armed forces, on the anniversary of the Gallipoli fiasco.

My great, great grandfather was a soldier, as was his son, and also his son, my grandfather, Aubrey Vialls. His son, my uncle Boy, flew in the Western Desert in World War 2

My other grandfather was a soldier, who fought in 3 wars, was awarded the DSO for bravery and briefly commanded the South African Brigade on the Western Front in World War 1.

My father served in North Africa and Italy in World War 2. His brother fought in Europe, Burma and Malaya and commanded the Royal Hampshire Regiment for a while .

My son has served in Timor, Afghanistan and Sinai

I have a conflict of emotion and intellect which is unlikely to be easily reconciled. I believe that we need guards and sentries to preserve our way of life. I admire the way of the warrior and believe we need courageous, strong people to keep us safe.

The warrior enshrines courage and resourcefulness and longs to prove himself in battle, to demonstrate the skills which have been taught.

As we saw in the Vietnam War, a small commitment to shore up a government against communist overthrow, turns into a vortex, sucking in tens of thousands who died, generating a military-industrial economy which gains heavy momentum.

Not long after, Middle Eastern tyrants defy Pax Americana and the war vortex starts sucking in soldiers and spitting them out dead or maimed.

Where does the virtuous deployment (is there such a thing?) of soldiers begin and where does it end. Rules of engagement are political tools. Politicians have different values and interests and often lose sight of the humanity their decisions impact. Once the ball is rolling it only stops when the pain becomes unbearable…

Can you imagine a world war, now that we have grown so lax and soft and comfort friendly? Now we fuss more about recompensing historical wrongs to ancestors of modern day minorities. Now we can’t say, no, now move along. Now we can’t defend our lives without fear of accusation of excess. Nor can the police.

Suddenly, all in Australia, between ages of 18 and 45 are conscripted for war service: men and wwomen (!!), citizens and aliens too (those that are not interned); protests, strikes and demonstrations will be banned and forcefully suppressed, (no time for the frillier civil liberties); rationing will slim us down.

Watch the wave of youth crime disappear and the woke wails dwindle to a whisper.

It could easily happen … soon; conscription happened three times in the last century!

I wrote about the paradox of remembrance after Armistice Day in 2021. It seems that I continue to wrestle conciliation between martial honour and the desire for peace.

If you can take more of the protest era songs listen to Masters of War written by Bob Dylan, sung here by Barry Maguire (I had his LP: The World’s Last Private Citizen).

What can we do?

The air is clear and still, dew is glistening on the leaves, birds’ calls are particularly clear and sharp. Some gum trees are in flower again, fooled by the seventh false start of summer. The honey eaters are happy.

Today attack drones swarm towards Israel – is this the start of World War 3? All the ingredients are present: an axis of autocrats, their identified enemy, a creature of the Western alliance…. all have nuclear weapons.

Yesterday a maniac ran amok slashing and stabbing indiscriminately, mostly weak and defenceless victims, avoiding challenges from brave men; then shot dead by an efficient police officer.

The same day we baby sat a grandson for a few hours; we sang and danced and laughed and smiled … such uninhibited joy and love!

Tomorrow judgment will be handed down on another case arising from the lies and immorality of two young people who had been employed to assist our government ministers. How did they get there and how could they have been tolerated? The damage created by just one incident has been incredible: reputations of Ministers, Judges, Police officers, Media icons tattered … only a bishop missing! And the slime ball is still rolling!

What we can do is lift our heads and think about values outside our little material worlds. We need to decide how much we value freedom and consider the responsibilities of citizens in democracies. Remember, we have a duty not only to pay our taxes and obey the law; we must also take up arms to defend our country when required.

I suggest that we should think a bit more about the corrosion of our values and speak out against their erosion by sentiment and identity politics.

It is just … sad!

Australia has the largest size homes in the world. Round here in our middle class estate, 20 year old houses average A$1,000,000

Average homesize has more than doubled despite family size declining by 28% in the past 60 years. Plus we send the old fogies off to live in aged care homes, so they are no bother.

Not only that, storage facilities are booming and are a serious investment option!

What does that say?

It says to me that we are rabbits in the headlights of marketers. Our lives are continuously cascaded with marketing messages and information.

We are driven to buy the bargain, its so cheap. We each have 50 shirts, 10 pairs of shoes, 50 dresses and a million knick knacks. Our televisions grow in size by the year. We have speakers in every room and 12 different appliances in the kitchen. We have so many types of insurance we need a broker

Our houses are so cluttered we buy sheds and park the cars in the road. We hire storage space to accommodate our possessions.

Why? We don’t need most of the stuff we have…

I am reminded of the riots in London in 2011 which was sparked by police shooting an armed suspect. It led to wide spread looting. My thoughts at the time (just after the 2008 recession) were that despair and futility and lack of money coupled with incessant marketing messages could lead me to do some looting too.

That’s when I began to dislike marketing.

It’s sad because we won’t be able to stop it without a cataclysmic event or events which could lead to radical recalibration of our values and drives.

Covid was clearly not sufficient.

A world war would do it – and that is not too remote an event….