The timing of trip was perfect. An opportunity to get away from the politics of Abbott and cohorts with his threat to pensioners and the disabled having to lift the country above its fiscal disaster and imminent collapse. The nightmare of us being forced to work in salt-mines or hacking at rocks for road-base was upsetting H and I even though we are still fairly fit and hale.
Have we reached a phase were our passivity is now permanent? A country so beset by materialism that the formal structures of social and political life offer no hope? If there is anything positive to be found, one must turn elsewhere? The thought often passes of pitching a tent somewhere. ( perhaps behind the big banana). A recluse or hermit have often been given respite to torments not of their choosing. Some individuals, have managed to survive the horrors of past governments without succumbing to the sterility of the present, but how?
Our trip to Byron Bay has given us a shot in the arm. Time to renew the fight. I have again re-joined the Labor Party which I left a few years after the demise of the Whitlam Government. The ‘remain the rage curry’ had finally collapsed and gone sour at Michael Hourihan’s abode. He left to live in Italy after learning 400 Italian words which he reckoned would get him through. We don’t know what happened to the tormented soul of Michael. Pray he found his pane di casa in Umbria. I am going to the first meeting this coming Monday at the YWA hall here in Moss Vale.
At Byron Bay we sat many hours at the front of the Beach Hotel sipping beer and eating insanely delicious salt and pepper calamari on copious beds of fragrant rice. The time gave us ample musings, to read, ponder and talk. It seems that with age, orifices get plugged more and more. I am not only wear hearing aids but am also now getting used to wearing …’euphemistically… called’, ‘partials’. Partial of what?
It never stops…what next?