July 7. Day 188. Natural sag

Natural sag. Until today I assumed that's what happened to people of a certain age as a result of gravity. It's the stuff that makes plastic surgeons smile, or so I thought. Apparently not. Natural sag is what slackliners look for in the terrain. James - who it has to be said displayed no sag at all - explained it to me. You seek two nice big trees a fair distance apart with a nice big dip between them. Find that and you have a perfect spot to secure your line. You don't have to climb uncomfortably high up the tree to anchor the rope but still have a nice big hollow under the rope to allow the movement you need to perform tricks. It's amazing the things you learn when you stop and talk to strangers. The line James had strung up at Musgrave Park today is a rodeo rope. I now know that a rodeo rope is a REALLY slack slackline. Where a tightrope is taut, the rodeo rope is just the opposite - it has LOTS of give. James told me that the aim of the rodeo rope is to learn to move your weight and centre of gravity so that you can effectively surf on the rope.This made perfect sense - to the girl with both feet, her bum, her dog and all her natural sag on the ground. Some times I think being a bit slack is perfectly called for in the circumstances.

See, it's slack. Really slack

July 6. Day 187. Head down. Bum up

All semester, it's head down, bum up. Between teaching and marking as well as this year traveling the very difficult road that is steering a teenager through Year 12, there's not much room to breathe. It can leave a girl feeling like she is drowning. But this week is between semesters and there's a chance to breathe just for a bit. So after a meeting at the Gardens Point Campus this morning, I detoured to the Botanic Gardens for a visit to the ducks, I made a decision - I need a plan, a little incentive to get through semester 2. By tonight the plan had a form, a venue and a date. I will be taking my own Schoolies - a three night, four day trekking holiday on the Great Ocean Road. This means I will need to get fit which in itself is a very good thing. If anyone wants to join me, I'll be heading off on November 29.

July 5. Day 186. A bridge too far

It was just like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Everyone in Brisbane wanted a golden ticket allowing entry to the Story Bridge for the 75th birthday party. I missed out in each and every one of the official ticket issues but like Charlie won my entry pass when all hope seemed lost.My open call for a spare ticket was answered by a bloke called Geoff who I'd never met, less than an hour before the final session. I was in the cab on the way to meet my knight in shining armour before you could say Willy Wonker.
But really it's a case of be careful what you wish for. Charlie got his golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and ended up owning the lot. Veruca Salt was attacked in the nut room by squirrels who considered her bad nut and threw her down the garbage chute. I'm afraid  to say that the big party was a public relations disaster. Forty-five minutes after the 90 minute session began crowds were still packed shoulder to shoulder in a human throng trying to make it to the entry gate. I believed that it was like the queue outside the stadium on match day. Once you'd passed the turnstiles, the bottle neck would pass and you'd be able to move freely. It didn't happen. For almost all of the length of the bridge it was a slow, painful shuffle to the point that I genuinely feared what would happen if someone was injured or should a fire break out in one of the food stalls. I have no idea if the cooking equipment was in any danger of overheating because my chance of getting near any one them stuck in the middle of the human  traffic jam was about zero. Any small person in the crowd would have seen nothing but the bum of the person in front of them. Despite all that, the crowd was for the most part well-natured and patient.  I am pleased to have been part of history, it's just a historic chapter I'd be very happy not to relive. If I'd been pushing a pram, trying to keep track of kids or escorting someone elderly or disabled, I'd have been much less philosophical. It's 25 years until the bridge's centenary. Let's hope lessons are learned from this experience. As a wiser man than me said on Facebook "Why do governments insist on marking the anniversaries of vehicular thoroughfares by closing them to traffic?" Fine point. 

July 4. Day 185. Party time

Party time. Probably the biggest street party Brisbane has ever seen is on tomorrow and did I score a golden entry ticket? No, I did not. I will not be one of the thousands on the Story Bridge tomorrow to mark the bridge's 75th birthday. But today I was partying under the bridge. The Little Red Riding Hood season finished today and the cast and crew after party was in the park under the bridge, a very short walk from the theatre. My contribution was cocktail frankfurters, proving I am a serial under-achiever. Okay, some parents sent a packet of chips but then there were the cakes. My goodness, some families clearly have talent streaks that go way beyond the stage. Still, no-one was afraid to cut or take the first bite of frankfurters which makes me a bit of a winner. And with the food and speeches over the kids did what kids do. They hit the playground equipment. Their joy was obvious to everyone so much so that a woman walking a dog stopped to comment on how good it was to see young people enjoying good old fashioned screen-free fun. I could say they even managed to spend the afternoon without recording the moment with a selfie (but not without lying). Well if my face was on a cake instead of the cake being on my face, I'd be taking a selfie too.

July 3. Day 184. Baby it's cold outside

Ah  Brisbane. Beautiful one day. Eight degrees the next. Seriously weather gods, this is not what I signed on for. Living in this part of the world where the homes are deliberately designed to catch the breezes and help cool in the relentless summer, a cold winter morning can be bracing to say the least. I fully understand how laughable a whinge at an overnight low of 8 might sound to many, but from where I come from it's very fresh. Still, I cool clear morning in winter almost always means a beautiful sunny day. By early afternoon the school holidays crowds were at South Bank and more than a few were taking a dip. It has to be said that all of the people in the pool and standing under the buckets of water dropping from a great height in the waterpark were aged under about 12. Clearly one's internal thermometer isn't correctly calibrated until puberty. Sure the temperature was in the low 20s by then but I sure had no desire to take my kit off and get wet. Sensible big people like myself are content to enjoy the winter sun in a cafe with a nice hot chocolate and a piece of fruit toast. Some of cafes even supply blankets for big softies like myself who can't take the (lack of) heat.Okay it may not be paradise but it's close to it.

July 2. Day 183. Speaking out

My baby was younger than this little mouse when he started

 

 

 

Nothing makes a mum prouder than a man in a dress

Of all the words in Drama Teen's report which arrived in the mail today one line from his English teacher stood out: "He is an accomplished public speaker and performer, whose presentations are always well-prepared and thought-provoking". Well, I should think so after 13 years of performance classes. A career on stage is and pretty much always has been his aim. I can't think of anything other than stage commitments that would drag my teenager out of bed before lunch on the school holidays. It's what he loves and an investment in his future career but even if that doesn't happen, I don't think a life sentence of stage mum duties and the $$$$ to match have been a waste.  Being able to more than hold your own in front of an audience is a skill that will travel with him no matter what walk of life he decides to take.

 

 

 

July 1. Day 182. Such a drag

Drama Teen's mate George has tried to recruit me for a project. In preparation for the 18th birthday, George was seeking embarrassing photos such as my young man wearing a dress or similar. Well here's the thing. Either you want embarrassing photos or you want photos in a dress. Those two categories are mutually exclusive. Like so many actors before him, Drama Teen relishes the "character" roles that involves frocking up. Roles such as Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie, Robin Williams in Mrs Doubtfire and John Travolta in Hairspray would be the dream.
Almost as attractive are the panto favourites such as an ugly stepsister in Cinderella. This week he's living that dream. He's in the cast of Fame Theatre's Little Red Riding Hood, a musical retelling of the tale where the wolf tries to capture Red by luring her off track with a variety of fairy tale disguises. Enter Cinders and her ugly stepsister. And what a fetching "woman" that stepsister is. Truth is, the young man is lucky he made it to the stage after saying "Mum, I need some really bad make-up for my role as an ugly stepsister. Can you lend me some?" For the record, I bought him some of his own and no he did not use my make-up tips.