storm victim

Saturday the 6th March started out a beautiful day; fine and sunny, a little on the humid side, but glorious.

After a sleep-in, we headed into the city for coffee and crepes (gluten-free, of course) outdoors at the Le Triskel, then on to the Kino to buy tickets for the afternoon showing of Rose et Noir (aka Fashion Victim) at the French Film Festival.

The session started at 1:45; the sun was shining and it was a balmy 26 degrees - really, too nice a day to spend in a dark cinema, but there are few screenings of any given movie during the Festival, so you just have to go when the session is on if you want to see a particular film.

Rose et Noir was a beautifully-produced period farce, set in 17th century France and Spain, about a very flamboyant dress-designer and his troupe who are sent to Inquisition-era Spain at the order of the King of France to make a wedding dress to help seal a marriage of state. What the designer doesn't know is that one of his entourage is secretly Jewish, another Muslim, and another, a Protestant planning to plant a bomb to blow up their hosts!

The story was building up nicely, until, about an hour in, just before 3pm, the film suddenly lurched to a halt and began to burn up! Oh mon dieu, not again! This is what happened when I went to see Julie and Julia at the Classic not six months ago!

As the house lights came up, a stressed cinema guy announced that a severe hailstorm had knocked out the building's air conditioning, causing the film to burn. They would try to get the film to resume in the next 10-15 minutes.

So we sat and waited, and then, about 15 minutes later, the cinema guy returned to tell us that the movie could not be saved, and that we would all need to get refunds and leave.

Disappointed, and none the wiser about what had happened outside the cinema, we queued for our refunds, and left the building at around 3:30pm. When we approached the exit, it felt as though we'd been transported to another place!

The sunny, balmy afternoon that we had left two hours earlier had been replaced by a scene of stormy carnage! The sky was leaden, water literally lapped at the entrance to the building as the floor flooded, the streets were littered with leaves that had been stripped from the trees by what we were later to learn were giant hailstones (such as the ones that had also killed our movie), rain poured from the sky in a way that I hadn't experienced in many years. The change in conditions was stunning!

Not yet comprehending the extent of the storm's fury, we headed for our tram in Swanston St, soaked to the skin within the first 50 metres of our journey (no coats or brollies, of course - it had been a gorgeous day when we left home!)

At Swanston St, it became clear that we would never get aboard the few trams that were managing to make their way down the flooded street, so we decided to head towards Flinders St station. It soon became clear, from the size of the sodden crowds teeming down the Swanston St away from the station, that there would be no trains to catch at Flinders St.

We continued walking across Princes Bridge, past traffic jammed in between flooded streets, in the hope of finding a bus further down the road.

To our delight, we instead found that trams that had made it this far into the city were turning back at the Arts Centre, which meant that we were able to hop on board a #64 and commence the trip home. Just as well, as the corner of St Kilda Road alongside the NGV, from the where the bus comes, was under water, and the buses would likely have been jammed in with the rest of the traffic.

As we travelled cautiously along St Kilda Road, we could see cars trapped in flood water, thick hail piled up in the gardens and gutters, steam rising like fog from the Domain, where the ground was apparently still warm from the afternoon sun. It was an amazing experience.

We finally arrived home around 5pm; one-and-a-half hours for what would usually have been a 40-minute journey, but we were grateful to have made it safely.

I'd of course left a couple of windows of the flat open in the morning to get the air in while we were out, so there was some minor flooding in the kitchen and bathroom where the rain had been blown in, but no major damage.

Except that we didn't get to see the end of Rose et Noir... and who knows when we ever will!

Summer fades

And so Summer ends... not with a bang, but with a chilly whimper. 20 degrees at the end of February? brrr

I stayed in bed a bit late, in the hope that the sun might peek out before I did, but no such luck. In the end, I took a quiet walk around the city, from the NGV, via the Sunday market, across the river, up DeGraves St, through DJs, around for a coffee at Brunetti's, and finished at Fed Square, before heading home to find a jacket to put on and get warm again!

Roll on Autumn - March is always *the* best time of year in Melbourne, anyway!

a single movie

I can't believe that no-one has pointed this out in all of the reviews that I've read, but Colin Firth plays an almost identical role in A Single Man as he did in the last of his films that I saw : Genova.

In both films, he plays a man struggling to carry on with his life after his partner was killed in a violent car accident. In Genova, he's forced to go on by the need to raise his two daughters; while in A Single Man, he's reached a point where he's decided that he cannot go on after the loss of his partner.

Both movies are beautifully filmed and create a real sense of suspense and surprise about where events will lead. I won't give away the ending, but A Single Man has a stunning twist at the end, whose possibility was foretold, but overshadowed, in the events that occur during what is intended to be the last day of his character's life.

As another single man, it gave me quite a jolt - like unexpectedly seeing one of your big fears plastered all over the cinema screen in front of you.

Anyway, aside from that, it was a terrific film, with another great performance by Firth, ably supported by the wonderful Julianne Moore, in yet another of her outstanding period character performances. 4 and a half stars from me; best film that I've seen so far in 2010, and the only one that I've been bothered to see in this whole month!

the 30th anniversary tour gets closer

It's not that I haven't been online for the past month.

In fact, I think I've been here almost *every* night for the past month, 'til well after midnight. I've just been busy. Too busy even to blog... even though I wanted to.

But last night, I passed a milestone... after weeks of planning, and months of procrastination, last night, I pressed the button and booked a return flight to London and a week's accommodation - whoo-hoooooooo!

Towards the end of May, just as Winter's starting to get depressing and miserable, I'm off to the northern Spring for a long-awaited holiday. My first visit, in fact, since 1980! Where did the time go?

Only one more task before I can relax - finding a place to stay in Paris for a fortnight!

nine at the nova

It was a quiet day at the office on Oz Day eve, so I knocked off a bit early and strolled up Russell St in the late afternoon sunshine to Lygon St and the Nova cinema.

I'd forgotten that Monday was cheap ticket day at the Nova, so in a 'good news/bad news' thing, I bought a ticket to see 'Nine' for only $8 (compared to $17 had I opted to go to the Hoyts in the city!), but found that I was sharing a fairly packed theatre by the time that the movie started.

I'm not sure how to rate this film. It had some brilliant moments, but seemed to lack something. The stellar cast was spectacular! Who would have imagined a movie with such a multinational cast of brilliant performers: Sophia Loren, Judi Dench, Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Marion Cotillard, Kate Hudson and leading man Daniel Day-Lewis.

The music sequences were also spectacular, and it was a treat to see the performers in action. One of the problems with the movie, though was that it was overly-blessed with big production numbers. By the end, I almost had 'belt out overload'. I guess each of the stars wanted to make a mark with their main number, but the result was like the songs were competing with each other, rather than complementary.

At any rate, it was a enjoyable film, so I guess I'd give it a 3.5 star rating, and look forward to seeing it on blu ray again some time in the future.

it's got the jack!

I'm sorry, but I cannot bring myself to respect a national flag that's blemished by the flag of a foreign nation.

Every year about this time, the same backwards-looking redneck bogans look up from their barbies and navel-gazing and scream about how their ancestors fought and died under the current flag.

Our forebears also massacred the indigenous people of this country and stole their land, but we don't do that any more. They also mostly saw themselves as British subjects, rather than Australian - but we don't think that way any more (or do they???)

It's long past time for a change to that ugly, demeaning flag, to demonstrate to the rest of the world that we're a modern nation, no longer tied to our colonial past.

Myself, I don't think the flag needs major changes. I'd settle for the existing Southern Cross on blue, with the Jack excised from the corner. I'd also love the Eureka Southern Cross flag. And I wouldn't be averse to some variation of the Aboriginal flag (although I'm really partial to the Southern Cross and blue-and-white colours).

Whatever, I just wish we had our own flag; one that I could respect as a true reflection of my country, and not one that makes us look like subjects of a foreign nation.

eine kleine nachtmarkt

One of my favourite things to do in Melbourne in Summer has to be the Queen Victoria night market on Wednesday evenings.

It was a pleasant 27-degree evening, so after work, I strolled down to Myer to look for a new pair of shoes (unsuccessfully). By the time I finished there, it was around 5:30, so I decided to walk up Lonsdale St to Queen St, and then down to the market. It wasn't yet 6 when I got there, but the place was already buzzing.

I checked out all the food stalls, to strike out the ones serving gluten-filled food, and then selected a delicious prawn and calamari jambalaya for dinner, washed down with a refreshing (but WAY over-priced - $8!!) sangria. Then it was time wander around the stalls, with a hot, fairtrade latte in hand.

After an hour, I'd seen everything, and headed back down the road, arriving at the bus stop just in time for the #220 to collect me and get me safely home by 7:30. If only every Wednesday evening could be so agreeable!

drink, drive, murderer

Steven Johnstone's girlfriend might get some comfort from describing him as 'a beautiful soul' (the Age, 20 Jan), but the rest of us should remember him as a drunk driver who murdered four teenagers by driving and speeding with a blood alcohol level of .19.

No sympathy for drink-driving criminals whose actions kill, maim and put others at such terrible risk. May he rot in hell.

faithless and proud!

The recent publicity about 'new atheism' really fascinates me. I'll come right out and say it now: I'm an atheist, and I probably always have been. I can't remember a time when I ever really really believed in any gods... the closest I ever came to faith was a belief in Santa Claus when I was young. (And that ended badly!)

I don't know how I came to be an atheist.

My father came from a family torn by religious conflict. His father, son of a strict (and venomous :-) Catholic family, incurred the wrath of that family by marrying my grandmother. She was also a devout Christian - just not of the Catholic variety. So out of the goodness of their dear little god-fearing hearts, and no doubt in accordance with their understanding of their bible, they saw it as their duty to ostracise my grandmother and try to end the marriage by basically acting as though she didn't exist. For most of her life. Nice.

She tried not to take it personally; he drowned his sorrows.

My mother's family was nominally CofE, but aside from a half-hearted attempt to get me to go to Sunday school for a few weeks when I was little, but not that impressionable, religion never really raised its ugly head in my childhood home.

I attended government schools, thereby avoiding indoctrination in early education, and as my mind tends naturally towards logic, I guess I just never learned to believe in faith.

It was only when I started Uni that I first became aware of how entrenched religion was in those around me. I began to realise that many of my friends, whom I had believed to be beings of reason and logic like myself, actually professed to being catholic or jewish or buddhist. And they weren't embarrassed to admit it in public.

I found myself in such a minority that I eventually declined to discuss religion at all, not wanting to offer myself as a constant target for conversion by the 'missionaries'.

So over the years, I've kept quiet hold of my atheism, never waivering from my lack of faith, and not worrying that I was in such a minority.

But I *LOVE* that there's now a recognised movement of atheists, ready to stand up and challenge the blind faithful, and not be prepared to listen to their dogma and pretend it makes sense.

Atheists rule!

0 of 7

So picking up the thread from earlier... I tried installing Windows 7 the evening that I got it home. I inserted the install disk; it played; it installed a stack of temp files, and it then provided me with a list of existing applications on my desktop pc that it didn't like. It told me that I either had to disable or uninstall them, in order for the upgrade to proceed.

I exited the install. I disabled iTunes, I uninstalled an old photo editing application, I didn't have Norton's 2007 installed, so I couldn't remove it, and I switched off my anti-virus app.

I restarted the Win 7 install. It installed a stack of temp files, and it again provided me with the list of applications on my desktop pc that it didn't like. It told me that I either had to disable or uninstall them, in order for the upgrade to proceed.

Only trouble was, I had complied with all of its demands, except for removing the non-existent Norton's, and it didn't recognise the changes.

So I did it all again. And this time, for good measure, I rebooted the pc.

Then I ran the Win 7 upgrade install again. And I got the same result...

All this had taken me about 45 minutes so far, and I hadn't even begun to get the upgrade done.

I decided that I would have to try harder to remove Norton's. I scanned the harddisk, I searched the harddisk. I scoured the web. I found two separate programs that were designed to remove Nortons (even though I was quite sure that I had never installed it on this machine!) I downloaded and ran both of them. Still Win 7 insisted that Norton's was there.

By this time, it was getting late, and my patience was as exhausted as I was, so removed the disk and went to bed.

Next evening, I started again, and confirmed the same situation.

In desperation, I decided to search the registry for any signs of rogue Norton's files. Again no luck.

At the end of evening 2, I tapped the mat and decided that I would just by-pass this step and proceed to install anyway.

I loaded the disk again on evening 3, and proceed to the same result.

This time, I decided to just click 'ok' and keep going. How naive can you get?? Of course, Microsoft doesn't give up that easily! Unless I could convince it that the problems it was detecting were not real, it would not let me proceed; no way no how!

At the end of evening 3, I finally realised that I would be unable to upgrade my Vista to Win 7. My only option would be to do it as a new install, thus losing all of my existing settings, data etc from my pc. Thanks, heaps, Microsoft! There goes my Christmas Eve!