Superfluous bags

I had a bit of a clean out of plastic bags. I still have plenty of old plastic supermarket bags. They are remarkably durable, a very good reason for them to be banned. Phyllis is embarrassed by my use of old plastic bags. 

I think this may have been handed out Melbourne's Midsumma Carnival. Interestingly, the website about STDs is still there and full of good information for gay men. 

I've never understood The Telegraph and The Daily Telegraph. I think they are both English and both of a conservative bent. Again who knows where that came from.

I will guess this came from my friend in Launceston. I've certainly never been in the Launceston Lighting Centre. The business is still operating. I wonder if Margaret ever bought a 40W frosted light bulb there?

Maggie Beer is a much lauded Australian cook, not a chef. Tv. radio, books, her own shop, instrumental in improving food in nursing homes. She is fabulous. But we never had contact with her, so where did the bag come from?

There has been a Dali exhibition in Melbourne, and we went, but we didn't buy anything. Again I've no idea where this came from.

I think this was to promote a sex lubricant, again possibly from a Midsumma Carnival. This doesn't seem to be available now.

I assume this is South Asian writing, a Phyllis bag,

In English, again a Phyllis contribution. 

After the arrival of Phyllis and Kosov, the Swedish Death Cleaning moves two steps forward and one step back. 

Sydney day whatever, 20th October

The day was my last full day, and it's is ages since I have visited Kings Cross and Potts Point, so onto the rather interesting 311 bus that begins its route at Central on the edge of the city and travels through the nearby inner east area and ends up back on the edge of the city at Millers Point. The service isn't very frequent, every thirty minutes, so if I wanted to stop off in Kings Cross, I needed to keep an eye on the timetable. 

Halloween must be approaching.

The Green Park rotunda. 

The Gay and Lesbian Holocaust Memorial on one side and on the other side, The Wall, where rentboys used to ply their trade. Maybe they still do. 

The Holiday Inn is coming down. We stayed there once and in the foyer we could hear the rumble of trains below at Kings Cross Station. The replacement; luxury apartments, naturally. 

 

Juanita Nielsen was murdered and probably ended up in the concrete foundations of a building. No one was ever charged over her disappearance and presumed murder. Wikipedia starts with this, "Juanita Joan Nielsen (née Smith; 22 April 1937 – disappeared 4 July 1975) was an Australian newspaper publisher, urban conservationist, and heiress."

If that teases your interest, you can read the article here, and the Google search takes you here. 

Her former home is the one with the bins in front.

I never tire of visiting the splendid El Alamein Fountain. It looks fab at night too.

After the bus tour of the inner east, I left the bus when it reached the centre of the city, bought a sandwich and caught a bus back to my hotel. I used Museum Station several times during my visit as it is a short walk to my hotel. It is underground but has lifts.

This in Qtopia, the GLBTIQ etc centre at Taylor Square, within an old, men's underground toilet and electric substation. I believe Qtopia is in several other premises nearby. I haven't visited as it seems to have an entrance fee, whereas Melbourne's Pride Centre doesn't.

Looking across Taylor Square to the south.

I bought a beach towel here with the Aussie Boys logo embroidered on the towel thirty years ago. I think it was a different shop location, but it was still called Aussie Boys. Thirty years later, I still have it and its condition is ok. Phyllis and Kosov are now using it as a bath towel. 

Dinner was fish, chips and salad at the Oxford Hotel. I am returning to decent eating. 

Friday Phunnie, the gay edition

Not that gay really, but does contain some gay content...and that means sex. Remember that? 

The 90th birthday of Brighton Antique Dealer

She has lived an extraordinarily interestingly life, from being the daughter of an Sicilian immigrant green grocer in the western suburbs, to mixing it with the best of the ever so posh suburb of Brighton. Her wheeling and dealing with antiques was very successful. She had a long behemien period. Her English is fluent with clear diction, and she is well spoken. She also speaks Italian and can get by with Arabic and Greek. She is interested in theatre, films, opera, ballet and especially jazz music. She is world travelled, with about seven years ago taking an around the world three month ship cruise. Funnily, on the cruise she met the mother of my gay former workmate. We did subsequently all catch up for a meal. 

She wasn't averse to taking a puff of the weed, yet she being Catholic, went and still does go to church every Sunday. Her first husband was an Arab with the biggest... When she saw it, she thought it wouldn't possibly fit. She had two children by him, so apparently it did fit. Her second husband was a well to do, cross dressing yacht club commodore. She loved him dearly and he died just before we met her, late 1990s.

Her eightieth birthday party was fantastic, with Jazzie making her last performance before she died a few months later. 

As her dyke daughter organised her 80th, so too did she organise her 90th. The birthday celebration was great,with an open bar (I made sure I got my fill) and a two course sit down meal. There was a DJ, and the birthday girl was certainly on the floor, as were rather a lot of older people. The evening went flawlessly, and given the age of most of the guests, the party began at 6.00 and was pretty well over by 9.30. 

She is a very kind person but not one who takes rubbish from anyone. I am privileged to have known her for twenty five plus years. Her signature greeting at any gathering is, 'I only come to kiss the boys'.

Jazzie at BAD's 80th.

BAD at her 90th as we sang happy birthday, with fifty guests. Aside from family, I'd be lucky to rustle up ten for my funeral. 

An enjoyable encounter

As the sending greeting cards dies off, businesses selling cards have reduced, so I normally buy mine now in Myer department store, where they have a decent selection. I went into Myer yesterday to buy a card for my friend's ninetieth birthday and there were only nice 90 year old lady cards. BAD is not a traditional old lady type. I bought a card with roses and a nicely patterned set of tea cups, with the the 90 on the card face. There was nothing else. She probably would have preferred a rude card.

Of course when buying a birthday card, you feel the need for a new winter shirt, as winter is about to end here. Tommy Hilfiger at  half price! 

I recognised the person I paid, an older woman.

She: Are you visiting the city for the weekend?

Me: No, I live in the city, well St Kilda Road.

She: Isn't the street tragic now?

Me: Err, in some ways, yes.

She; All those beautiful old mansions destroyed.

Me: Yes, including the beautiful Illoura.

She: I'm 85 and I began here as seamstress when Myer used to make some of its own clothes.

I was gobsmacked at her age revelation.

 

She: One of the other female staff here used to make deliveries by taxi after work, the taxi paid for by work, and she lived in Beatrice Street, off St Kilda Road and she make sure she was near her flat at the end of her deliveries and be dropped home. Are you near there? 

Me: No, closer to the city. So if you've worked here so long, you must remember Freddie Asmussen?

She: My mother worked here too. We both knew him. 

Me: He was quite a character.

She: Oh yes. In his older years he used to swan around the store with Dame Merlyn. 

I then left her to her job. 

Freddie was an outrageous queen who worked his way up the chain at Myer by his talents and cultivation of his betters. He became Dame Merlyn Myer's favourite and would decorate her mansion for dinners and parties. The (I am sure gay) lads who worked under him were known as Freddie's boys.

Back in the 70s and 80s, if you met a guy for a casual hook up, if asked where you worked, you might have said Myers. 

PS, the store name was changed from Myers to Myer I think some time in the 80s or 90s. 

Australia's Trove has some information about him. 

From a website, 

The windows first began in 1956, created by Freddie Asmussen, who was the head of the display in Myer. Instead of filling the windows with the usual range of gift giving ideas, Asmussen instead decided to showcase something completely different for the Christmas windows. Creating the very first Myer Christmas Windows theme, “Santa and the Olympics”, which celebrated the Olympics, the technological marvel of television, and of course, Santa! Asmussen designed a new Christmas theme every year until his passing in 1974.

And another: 

The hidden saint of Myer's was the late Freddie Asmussen. To call him a window dresser is to say Michelangelo was a ceiling-painter. Freddie, a confirmed bachelor (as they used to say), used the Myer's windows as a series of proscenium arches framing the theatre of his miraculous mind. The Christmas windows were his annual festival, when snow and tinsel and reds and greens and elves and reindeer and Santa manifested themselves in ever-changing combinations that drew people from as far as Upwey or Alamein. At other times, Freddie was only slightly more restrained, allowing himself a few Renaissance touches while avoiding the Rococo.

Monday Mural

It was time for Phyliss to learn reverse parallel parking. His first attempt was a fail, and that was my fault as I failed to initially see the trailer behind the SUV. Pull out and try again. I gave no advice and he parked perfectly. Yeah, well, anyone can fluke a perfect parallel park. We moved on and jesus, he made a second perfect parallel park. I could not believe it. I think I was happier than he was for his achievement.

I rarely parallel park, and you do become rusty. The ladies who shop and lunch in High Street Armadale are experts at parallel parking their large black Beemers and Mercs.

Anyway, this is supposed to be about murals and as usual, I join with Sami and others. What can I find today. I took this photo in July 2024 and this is a street we/I often walked along and I had not noticed the mural painted in 2023. It's rather marvellous, even if it doesn't correctly represent the heavily built up area. Route 78 was the last tram route to see the old W class trams running in regular service, not so long ago really. It is now served by the more modern A class trams, which are quite old too now, dating back to the 20th century. 

This is a bit interesting, not so much for the artists name, but in the top right are the words 'Poof Doo..'. Poof Doof is a gay venue in Chapel Street with an overall name of Chasers. If you don't know, poof is slang for gay, and doof is the loud heavy backbeat normally heard in young people's dance clubs, and sometimes coming out of car windows. 

About three weeks, the international artist Katy Perry performed at sold out concerts in Melbourne. I know nothing about her, not even her nationality, but no matter. One evening after performing, she turned up at Poof Doof and opened the bar for an hour to all the queens at the venue. Phyllis was very jealous. 

The most successful female stars have always created a strong gay base, going back to Audrey Hepburn, Piaf and of course, July Garland, or even earlier. Later think Cher, Bette Midler, Dolly Parton, Madonna, the stars of my era, and a whole lot more since. 

Family Friday

Last Sunday was a pleasant family affair as I joined Ex Sis in Law and her husband for lunch to celebrate his 68th birthday. He was born in a very auspicious year, as a couple of you know.

Many family members attended, and a photo was taken of him with 10 of their collective grandchildren. They all love Pa. 3 children weren't there, the Bellarine Peninsula boy twins and their older sister, so that is 13 grandchildren in total. 

But how are they made up? Only two are his blood relatives, his daughter's two children. So the rest must come from my family and are blood relatives to me, via my youngest brother. No, not quite. 

Birthday boy has four children, a boy and three girls. His dyke daughter has a partner, who is new to me, and I will guess that the child they brought along is their daughter. She and her partner are Anglos but the daughter is of Asian appearance (English: Chinese). I will ask about this later but no one batted an eyelid. While no one should, I am naturally curious. Maybe she had an Asian husband before she saw the errors of her straight ways with a man, or maybe the father was a doner? Or it could be the daughter of a friend who who asked if she could come along? I am happy once I fit people into boxes. 

Two others were also of neither family's bloodline, Ex Sis in Law's daughter's two step daughters, meaning Hippie Niece has a Brady style blended family with her twin daughters. The two step daughters are the ones with the drug using mother. 

Are you still with me? Ray always said it was stupid of me to note bloodlines, and perhaps he was right, 

An afternoon family party has been organised for Jo's 18th birthday in July, my sister's and her wife's daughter. Eighteen! How can that be. She was born in 2007 and I blogged about her often on my old blog. She is all growed up now and what a privilege it was to spend so much time with her when she was young. 

I was looking for something on my old blog and I think it was about 2010 and not one person on my favourite blogs list still blogs or even makes comments. It was interesting to remember who they were. As a long time blogger, you have to develop a bit of hard heart as people come and go. 

Later edit: There is one, Daniel Bowen, owner of the first blog I started reading. 

Being Friday, here are a few funnies I came across last week that appealed to me. 

The conversation

A conversation that I knew would crop up at some point, and after allowing me a respectful year of mourning the loss of Ray, it did and came from my lovely Ex Sister in Law. We were just sitting and chatting about everything and nothing.

She: Do you think you might like to have another relationship?

Me: No. I am pretty happy with my life as it is. Ray and I were so used to our way of life, I can't imagine ever being in that position again. We led our selfish lives side by side. Well, I suppose I could but it would be quite a different relationship, probably not a live together one. (She had unleashed a speech demon by someone who does not normally talk about such matters so frankly). I am quite set in my ways. Phyllis and Kosov adapt and respect that. I expect any person I may meet of a similar age would also have a very established life. I have a life, much the same as I led with Ray, except he isn't with me anymore. 

And beside that ESiL, I am not interested in sex with old men. In one moment of self aggrandisement when I was in my early thirties, perhaps even into my early forties, I thought I would like to have sex with myself, meaning I thought I was pretty good at sex. I still think I was back then. Now, assuredly not. I would not want sex with me. 

She: No, I don't want to have sex with old men either (Her husband is my age. Lots of laughing at this). 

Me:  Phyllis and Kosov are more than enough company and we are creating our history to the point where can now say something like, "Do you remember when...?" That's nice.

Me: As for sex, I can't be bothered with any personal hook ups with anyone. It is just too much bother. Besides, Melbourne is full of attractive young overseas students from all corners of the globe, who are looking to make some money. 

Me just writing now: As James/Jasmine used to say, a girl has her needs. They are very professional, don't cost much more than the price of a normal massage, and they appreciate a tip. I sent one $200 during Covid lockdown when he was desperate, still paying his rent by relying on a charity for food. That as guests in our country, and overseas students weren't looked after by our governments, was a disgrace. He later offered to repay the money in kind. He stopped working as a 'masseur' to open a dog grooming business. To be slightly fair to the governments of the time, overseas students were told in the very early days of Covid to go home (losing everything they had worked for and paid for).   

So that is a bit of a confession. You will have your own thoughts on the matter and about me, and so be it, but I have no shame. I have great respect for professional sex workers, male or female, and the respect happened many decades ago when I realised how important sex can be in life and listening to off mainstream media about what they had to say about their lives. 

The above is partly what I said to ESiL, but then my fingers ran away over the keyboard. 

Fun in Melbourne

Melburnians and tourists have fun in Melbourne at a major horse racing event, the Melbourne Cup.

The majority of attendees arrive by train, for many the only train trip they take for the year. Trains only run on this branch line for special events and it is such an easy way to get there and home.

Ready for fun with a river cruise.

Massed and ready to board, with diners across the river stuffing their faces at Afloat, formerly Arbory Afloat.

Arbory above Afloat is where Platform 11 at Melbourne Flinders Street once saw trains from St Kilda and Port Melbourne. The lines were converted for light rail trams. With hindsight, it wasn't a great idea as these lines now require quite intensive trams services, whereas less frequent trains could better deal with the number of passengers.

Banana Alley vaults under the railway viaduct have various businesses, and this one is where men go to meet up with men. In these times of internet hook ups, as I sat on a seat outside, I was surprised how many men were coming and going. I suppose if you connect with someone using a hook up site, it is a cheap place to meet up if a home isn't available. 

Phyllis' driving lesson went ok, with only one alarming moment when I reached for the steering wheel. While he rode a motor bike in India, he really is starting from absolute scratch for car driving. But he is smart and quick to pick things up. Next weekend he is not working for four days and I will take him for a lesson each day. 

Next Monday is a public holiday to celebrate the King's Birthday, which actually isn't next Monday. It's the 14th of November. I have promised myself that every time I say Queen's Birthday, I will donate $10 to a charity. I am $10 down already. 

A gay entrepreneur

I would guess it was in the 1980s Ken Payne opened a gay club called Mandate in Carlisle Street, St Kilda. It was very successful until it wasn't. It was formerly called Sweethearts but I am not sure if Payne owned the business then. I don't know why it closed. It could have been noise issues for local residents. Yes, yours truly attended a number of times. 

One New Year's Eve I locked the car keys in the boot of the car, so we just left the car there overnight...well, it was morning by then. The next day, somewhat hungover, I caught the 377 bus, my first time on a public bus with air conditioning, to retrieve the car. It was a hot day and the air conditioning was very effective, as it roared away. I must have used a 69 or 79 tram for the last kilometre, or maybe I walked.

Payne kept hearing older gay men lamenting the loss of Mandate and so thought a massive development in St Kilda Road, St Kilda would be successful. Called Precinct 3182, the post code,  it certainly was on opening night. I remember seeing my still current doctor there. Within one area, there was an old train carriage. Bit by bit, it closed down. All those who lamented the loss of Mandate were not regular customers. The pub lasted longer and it was a really nice place. I learnt to play pinball with some skill (I'll be back) and we had great fun times. Ray picked up a crop duster pilot one evening. A couple of straight guys rented a house opposite us in Balaclava and they would go there for a drink at times, and they were fun. Once with our Brother Friends we won a trivia quiz. I have nice memories of the venue, but eventually it closed too. 

I am unable to find a photo of the gay entrepreneur Ken Payne online but among my trinkets, I did find these dog tags that were given out on opening night. 

Friday Fun

These are a couple of clips that I just came across, that I thought were interesting, that I accidently downloaded, that I downloaded. 

I would expect a slim guy to be able to do this, not this quite solid guy. Clearly he is all muscle. Quite amazing, and as the audience is doing, I would give him a good clap.

I don't know that I approve of this guy's suggestive dancing. Nevertheless, he is rather nice. What are you saying? There is another guy in the clip? Sorry, I did not notice him. You know me well enough to know which one my focus was drawn to. 

Pleasant

Pleasant was my Tuesday as I drove with the company of my neighbour HH to the wonderful Acorn Nursery. We chatted away, never lost for conversation. A remark from Wise Web Woman made me think about the loss of family and friends with whom/who you have great memories. New people may come into your life, but you don't have the shared memories. 

But I do have shared memories of living here for twenty plus years and knowing HH for all that time, even if we only became proper friends since Ray's death. Time over, I would have invited her to Ray's memorial gathering. I did send her photos and videos etc. HH really liked Ray, but he once put her in the freezer and was quite perfunctory with her when they came across each other in the lift, or wherever. She mentioned it and I do remember why but not in great detail. For all Ray's wonderful qualities, he could take offence quite easily.

Anyway, in a confluence of matters, Hels recently posted about Edna Walling, and I read something too about Edna Walling. She was a well known mid 20th English style local garden designer. To have an Edna Walling garden was very desirable. 

She built a house in what was then countryside beyond the city limits of Melbourne, in Mooroolbark and lived there with her close female friend. She designed houses and gardens in the same unpaved road, I believe still unpaved to today, for other female friends and their own close female friends who lived with them.

Have you got the picture? 

What amused me, and HH as I told her, was that the locals in the 1950s referred to the Bickleigh Vale street populated by women as Trouser Lane. 

Oh yes, a couple of you might be interested to know Edna was Yorkshire born. I wonder how many married suburban wives and mothers might have pleasured themselves with thoughts of what went on in the Bickleigh Vale village. 

Happy Valentines Day

I was given a card, a single red rose and a letter opener (long story) this morning by my tenants. 

I dedicate this to Phyllis and Kosov. Young love is wonderful to observe. 

Friday funnies

Let's go for broke with the first one. If you are already clutching at your pearl necklace after the first, don't read on. 

Numerous Crocs were spread around Sister's home. I tried them and I hated them. They reminded me of the plastic sandals of my childhood. Stick to your Crocs John Gray of Wales. I'm not having a bar of them. 

How I wish his number was just 6 and not 16.