Election Day Buzz

There’s a certain excitement in the air today. Federal election. Compulsory voting and it’s been a long campaign. The opinion polls have been all over the shop predicting everything from an overwhelming landslide change of government to a narrow retention of power for the incumbent government. Daughter has a friend over they are both voting in their first election. I am very impressed and proud as both have carefully considered the policies of the candidates and made their decision based on policy not just the media. They talk of friends and voting intentions, preference allocation and policy. We talk history and context to elaborate on the strategy required for voters in getting a parliament consisting of the right mix of elements.
Polls have been open an hour or so. We’d been warned by others that voters are turning out early and in large numbers. We finally find a parking spot and wander on into a local school to vote, running the gauntlet of party faithfuls handing out how to vote leaflets. I take one from everyone. I don’t like to suggest to all and sundry how I intend to vote. There’s a delicious smell and a festive atmosphere the parents and citizens are holding a barbeque and selling lamingtons as a fundraiser. Robbie Williams playing for the entertainment of the queue which is already quite long, and building steadily behind us as we join the line. Husband hands over some cash and directs daughter to buy some sausage sandwiches. They smell great but I give it a miss. They have a poster up this year suggesting voters may like to check how the different political parties are allocating their preferences, in case you just want to allocate your senate vote along the party line. I don’t recall having seen this information in past elections. I guess that’s the beauty of an independent electoral commission. Each year there are improvements to the system. We wander in and take advantage of the offer, but I don’t like any party’s preferences so I number 1-79 to allocate my preferences in the order I have decided on. Daughter’s friend has also decided to number 1-79, so we wait outside for him. This gives us plenty of time to buy a dozen lamingtons. Quite good. We discuss politics and the election some more, and how we are looking forward to the election coverage tonight as we head home. I lament the skill of Antony Green and his election outcome computer modeller. He is so accurate and he generally has the result correctly identified within an hour of polls closing. I liked it better in the days when you watched the commentary from the national tally room all night as the booths were counted and marked up on the boards. It is one night every few years when the politicians forget the spin and just speak as people as with the electorate they watch the results flood in. If one of the parties gets a big shock, you get some really spontaneous and honest responses and a greater insight into the people behind the performance. Love it.
Well, I can’t wait for the polls to close. This should be one of the most interesting elections in years, and to my surprise I’ll be barracking for some pollies on both sides. There are some good sensible people who’s seats are apparently line ball. There MIGHT even be a spill in the Prime Minister’s own seat – I can’t quite believe that will happen though the electoral boundaries have been redrawn this election and he’s not so safe a seat any more.
7 hours to go.

Sydney – Canberra – Remembrance Day 2007

A glorious day after a week of rain. It is wonderful to be on the road again with everything clear and fresh. You can almost hear the countryside sighing with relief at the renewed moisture the rain has provided.
The drive between Sydney and Canberra gets mixed reviews. It is amazing to us how many people report that it is a fairly boring drive with little to see. We conclude that these people must be driving with their eyes shut! In truth the drive is featured by wide vistas of broad pastures, blue hills and glorious sky. Areas where rain has been a little more generous are boldly, lushly green. Some where rain has been slower in coming a green tinge is appearing among the golden brown of last seasons cover, but everywhere you can almost hear the landscape sighing with relief at that at least some small measure of relief from this savage drought has at last been delivered. Paddocks are here and there populated by sheep and cattle. The trees and shrubs in remnant bush change in type with the local terrain. Along the centre of the highway flowering shrubs are planted which throughout late winter and spring provide a beautiful festival of native flowers. The display commences with the exuberance of the golden wattle in August/September. Today the red of the bottlebrush flowers provide a bold contrast to robust little shrubs smothered in tiny white flowers. It is so satisfying to see the little creeks and rocky rivers renewed with run off from the rain. This, the Remembrance Driveway is a beautiful and fitting memorial to Australians who served their country in the second world war. www.remembrancedriveway.org.au
Today we are destined for the Australian War Memorial where the Remembrance Driveway ends, marked by three Spotted Gums in Remembrance Park behind the memorial. As we travel, we are reminded of the valour and sacrifice of all by rest areas and memorial parks named for the 24 Australian winners of the Victoria Cross from WWII and the Vietnam war. There is now a set of 3 CDs of oral history about the Remembrance Driveway. Surely suitable entertainment as you travel this memorial route. We pick up a copy from the War Memorial shop, it is also available from the Roads and Traffic Authoritywebsite http://www.rta.nsw.gov.au/oralhistory.
We make good time and arrive in Canberra at about 9:15. A brief stop at the information centre to identify the closest local Maccas outlet to satisfy some of the party who skipped their breakfast to effect our attempt at a 7 am departure. 7:10 not a bad effort for the younger party animals of the group. We are parked and getting into position before 10 am for an alleged 10:15 am start for the Remembrance Day service. Much larger turnout for the ceremony than last year, and as the MC notes, even the flies have turned out bringing another type of salute – the Aussie salute – to the formal marks of respect. Like a church service from my childhood, matrons with legs crossed using the free program as a much appreciated fan and fly switch. Attire among the crowd everything from jeans and collared shirts to heels and tailored jackets with jauntily brimmed millinery, dress uniforms of numerous nations. Dignitaries heavily bedecked in honours and badges of rank.
The service follows the usual program. This year the Prime Minister personally in attendance delivers the commemorative address. The Australian Federation Guard – a mixed formation from the three services marches in stands in formation. The catafalque party emerge, move into position and stand in respect throughout the proceedings.
Again this year one of the servicemen in the main body of the Federation Guard faint from the immobility and heat and is assisted from the field unable to walk unsupported. I find myself mentally rebelling at the illogical aping of customs developed in another time and climate, a republican spirit within me stirs and grumbles. I find another reason to appreciate that our main commemorative services are held at dawn on Anzac Day.
The service concludes with the Governor General and Prime Minister and their wives and other dignitaries proceeding up the stairs to the Tomb of the Unknown Australian Soldier to lay wreaths. Throughout the day a guard of honour is maintained around the tomb. The changes of the guard and military spectacle observed by the many visitors to the memorial.
As we move away from the ceremonial ground the offspring report with some anger and vigour the appalling behaviour of some foreign visitors sitting in the row behind them. I’m glad I was out of earshot of the comments in question during the service. You have to wonder why on earth anyone would bother attending a Remembrance Day service in any country if all you plan to do is find fault. Everything was considered fair game - from the cars used by the official party, to the name of the Tomb of the Unknown Australian Soldier. The object of the service is quiet reflection and commemoration and clearly these nitwits completely missed the point, and what’s worse, contaminated the experience for the people around them. Inexcusable.
For the record, should anyone else out there wonder why we note that the tomb in question is of an Australian – until the early 1990s, our marking of respect for the unknown soldier, was obliged to be focussed on the similar memorial in London which represented all of the fallen whose remains were not recovered from the Great War. For a long time this was not considered inappropriate given that we served as an element of the British forces in that conflict. When finally it was felt that we should repatriate the remains of one of our unidentified fallen and have our own local memorial to the unknown soldier in our main national memorial, it was appropriate that it be given a different name to distinguish it from the London memorial which Australians still very much respect and honour. It was not a pompous gesture of Australian nationalism, more a continued mark of respect to the London memorial. If anything was pompous it was the arrogance of these visitors in assuming that they could interpret the intentions of a people they clearly do not even come close to understanding.
After a quiet picnic lunch in the serenity of the grounds. We make our way in to the War Memorial. We have some time before the Remembrance Day talk, which is to be delivered today by Les Carlyon on the topic “Two men of Passchendaele”. A discussion of Field Marshall Haig and David Lloyd George in the context of the events of third Ypres – which Australians know as the battle for Passchendaele. I take the opportunity for a little browsing in the memorial shop. Attracting a comment from daughter, that there can’t be anyone who enjoys the war memorial shop more than me! LOL I am strong and massively disciplined and decline to buy more to add to my already groaning reading waiting list! Though I was reminded during the later talk introductory acknowledgements, that I must read some Antony Beevor. In what time remains we spend a half hour or so checking out the new discovery zone. There’s going to be a few farmers with their legs blown off in the field I attempted to clear of land mines!
After Les Carlyon’s very interesting talk, the author has agreed to some book signings, which result in my acquiring an author signed copy of Gallipoli to match the author signed “the Great War” I picked up here last Remembrance Day. Better yet, I plant a seed for a Les Carlyon penned book that covers Douglas Macarthur. Les Carlyon is so objective in his writing. I think it would be fascinating to get a book with an Australian focus that is really objective about Douglas Macarthur and provides all the relevant context for the reader to make up their own mind on the subject.
After a tiring and emotional day we climb back in our car and head for home. Driving in the early morning or late afternoon is a pleasure I find it’s hard to surpass. A leisurely stop at Collector for afternoon tea at the Lynwood café. Purchase some preserves and such for Christmas pressies. We’re home at about 7pm and I’m nursing a dose of mild heat stroke and ruing the fact that I’d managed to leave my hat out of the car this morning.
I can hardly wait for another run to Canberra with a little more solitude to listen to the Remembrance Driveway oral history CD. Perhaps when they reopen the redeveloped post 1945 galleries…..

Wallaman Falls, Far North Queensland

Wallaman Falls, visited June 2006 Second video is the cassowary we were lucky enough to see on the way back from the falls viewing area. If you see a cassowary stay in your car, they are quite dangerous.

Honeyeaters at Ivy Cottage video

Once again these are white cheeked and macleay's honeyeaters. They are tucking into leftovers. In the second video the light is just terrible but at least it gives you a feel for the numbers of birds that come in. The reference to "vicious rainforest birds" is a long standing family joke. It refers to a sign that was outside an aquarium on Magnetic Island many years ago encouraging passers by to come in and see "the feeding frenzy of the vicious reef sharks". When you went in, you found the sharks they were referring to were all little baby black tip reef sharks, mostly about 12 inches long. Tiny and not what I expected at all. LOL.

Ivy Cottage Paluma

These photos are of birds at Ivy Cottage at Paluma in far north Queensland, which is to the north of Townsville. The Victoria's Riflebirds (top)were hard to capture on film, and even these don't do them justice. Magnificent birds. The lower photo is a white cheeked honeyeater and numerous Macleay's honeyeaters. I didn't get photos of the bowerbirds unfortunately.

Waltzing Matilda - lyrics and meaning a la Snodge

Waltzing Matilda was written by Andrew Barton “Banjo” Patterson.

The following notes are provided to help people understand the song and what it is about.

See below for lyrics.

Swagman: more usually referred to as a “swaggie”. Commonest translation of “swagman” is tramp or hobo, but that’s not quite the same. It’s someone who walks the tracks of the bush/outback looking for work, or subsistence. Rural Australia relied heavily on such itinerant workers for a very long time and it was the custom that landholders would assist swaggies when they turned up by issue of food perhaps tea/tobacco/sugar/meat/flour.  The swagman is a man who carries a swag.

  

Jolly: in Australia in times gone by, certainly it was still the case when I was very small, "jolly" was used as an all purpose expletive. I don't believe it is intended only to infer that the swagman was jolly in the sense of happy and good humoured. A double meaning fits the context very well... here's a jolly swagman - inoffensive and doing noone any harm.

Swag: is usually translated as “bedroll”. Can be a blanket inside of which you carefully secure your essential belongings. You might put your belongings on the blanket then roll it up and tie it either at either end with a rope which is then used like a handle. You sling the swag across your shoulder by the rope and off you go. The iconic image has a “billy” attached on the outside.

A swag is also known as a “matilda”. A “matilda” was also a term for a common law wife which may have influenced the use of the term for the swag. It would have been consistent with Australian humour if this was the case. Afterall, a common law wife is someone you sleep with consistently without being married, as you do your swag. So your swag is your matilda.

  

Waltzing matilda. If you’re walking along with your swag on your back, the swag moves with your body as you walk and you’re said to be “waltzing matilda”. Some suggest that the German word “waltzen” which has been translated as “to tramp or hike” or wander about was also an influence. Again you see the play on the words which is a very typical sort of witty word play style of humour Australians have long been fond of.

  

Billabong: a backwater off a river. A billabong fills when there is a flood, then as the water recedes it gets isolated from the flow. Australia has an endless cycle of drought and flood. Billabongs are where bunyips reside. A bunyip is a sort of scary monster creature. Reputedly incredibly ugly but it usually appears in children’s stories as a poor gentle misunderstood creature that everyone is scared of but deserving of sympathy. Though in the case of this story, I guess the ghost of the swaggie has reign at this billabong.

Coolabah tree: a type of native tree of the species eucalyptus. The shade of a coolabah tree isn’t very deep. The canopy is quite light, so it’s dappled shade. You find coolabah trees in the outback, so you know that the events of the song take place in a very remote area. No shops, no services.

Billy: a small tin pail (maybe 1 litre capacity) with a handle. It is used like a universal cooking pot and kettle. To “boil the billy” means to make tea ie the drink.

Jumbuck: a term for sheep.

Tucker: food

Squatter: the landholder. There’s a fair bit of history behind how the landholders came by their land. The squatters would simply go and occupy vast areas of land. Over time and various changes to the laws they came to have tenure. It was an inequitable process that heavily favoured the wealthy and lead to a range of interesting historical events we don’t need to discuss here. The fact that the squatter in the song is described as being mounted on his thoroughbred is a reference to the wealth of the landowner and the great divide between the landholders and the workers. There is a bit of a sub-text of “the bastard could surely spare one bloody sheep for a poor swaggie”. The song was written just after a very bitter shearers strike in the 1890s which was about the time of a severe drought and economic depression. The government (and police) backed the landholders against the striking shearers. There was violence and political upheaval. The union movement really got going. Shortly after these events the Australian Labor party was formed.

Trooper: the police of their day. It is significant that the troopers are there backing up the wealthy squatter. This is a reference to the system being stacked against the workers. There’s a thread weaving through many Australian historical events of power corrupted and the law being used to protect the interests of the wealthy.

“Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag” = hand over that sheep

“You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me” at the end of the this stanza means “you’re under arrest”.

“You’ll never take me alive” = “I’ll see you in hell”. This is an echo of some Australian bushrangers ie outlaws the most famous of whom were driven to bushranging through the actions of corrupt police and associated injustices. In particular one named Ben Hall is famous for this phrase.  Ned Kelly, another great Australian icon, is also deeply associated with this sort of tragic result of police corruption and social injustice. "You'll never take me alive" can be seen as an Australian statement of "liberty or death".

So there you have it. Waltzing Matilda is the story of a poor Aussie “battler” driven to suicide by the selfishness of the wealthy and the impacts of a system in which the only way to survive is to take what you have to. It is a story that speaks to the deep commitment of Australians to the concept of a “fair go”.

Waltzing Matilda is more than a folk song. This is the national song of Australia and will stir national pride far more than the official anthem. You know they’re really going for patriotic feeling when they roll out Waltzing Matilda at a sporting event. It is so effective at rousing the crowd some opposition teams have tried to ban the crowd singing it.

Waltzing Matilda (modern commonly known version). Follow the link to the youtube listing of the late great Slim Dusty singing Waltzing Matilda.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong

Under the shade of a coolabah tree

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong

Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee

And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Down came the squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred

Up came the troopers, one two three

Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tuckerbag

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Where’s that jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong

“You’ll never take me alive” said he

And his ghost may be heard as you pass by the billabong

“You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me”

[sing softly now…]

Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

And his ghost may be heard as you pass by the billabong

You’ll come a waltzing matilda with me

Weary Dunlop Memorial

Here is a photo of the Weary Dunlop Memorial in Benalla, Victoria. Just in case you can't read it, the words around the plinth are Friendship, Courage, Forgiveness. Weary is the big bloke at the back supporting the emaciated POW. Despite the dreadful things he witnessed in the prisoner of war camps on the Burma railroad, on his repatriation Weary was a shining light of leadership, encouraging forgiveness for the events of the war, supporting veterans and leading humanitarian aid projects in Asia. A very great Australian.