DEFINITION of surreal: having travelled around Europe for the last three months, seeing sights that are famous the world over and others that you don’t see in the younger countries, I’m now back in Brisbane.
Don’t get me wrong: I love Brisbane. My family lives there (with the exception of a brother in Sydney for work), and every time I come back I know there’s a bed, great friends and a cold beer or 36 waiting for me.
What is strange though is coming back to things that are so familiar. Just about everywhere you go in Europe is something different: travel for a few hundred kilometres in any direction on the continent and chances are you’ll end up in a different country with a different culture. Travel the same distance in parts of Australia and you’ll be lucky to find anything.
One thing that did strike me about Australia and Europe is that our wonders are mostly natural. Where in Europe things like the Eiffel Tower, Stonehenge and any of Antonio Gaudi’s works in Barcelona are justifiably famous, with the exception of the Alps I couldn’t think of one natural wonder that would make me come back. Compare that to the variety of natural wonders scattered around Australia: the Great Barrier Reef, Uluru, the Tasmanian wilderness and the Daintree rainforest, with the Sydney Opera House the only truly famous Australian building.
Back to coming back home, and mentally your head is in about thirty different places, not least because of that bloody jetlag. There’s always a sense of what if after a trip like this: what if I’d got my working holiday visa straight off, what if I’d stayed longer in London, what if I could pick up signals from girls in pubs and clubs. They have a tendency to haunt you, not least the first-mentioned. You have such a blast over in Europe, meeting more people than you can poke the proverbial stick at, and at the end of it you go back home with only e-mails and phone calls to keep you in touch. If you stayed Europe to work, you never know what could happen…
But these are all what ifs, a past that cannot be changed, decisions that cannot be undone, paths that generally close off once you pick a different one. My path is one that will take me up to Port Douglas shortly, and from there? Who knows.
Should be fun though.
In my head this week: Split Enz Message To My Girl.
One of the many songs about a boy who's scared of telling a girl that he really is rather fond of her. The version sung by Neil Finn on the ENZSO (Split Enz Symphony Orchestra) album is absolutely brilliant - so brilliant it's copped a flogging on the iPod in the last week or so.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Sunday, April 24, 2005
The death of Sir Joh
SIR Johannes Bjelke-Petersen is dead.
For those not from Queensland, this has about as much relevance as the deaths of any number of people in the southeast Queensland town of Kingaroy.
For those from Queensland - and I would suspect those who aren't but are of a certain age - Sir Joh was a man who didn't just leave footprints on the beach of history, but instead altered it forever by performing a series of burnouts in a hotted-up, Queensland-made car.
As any Queenslander who has travelled will know, the Queensland stereotype under Joh was hardly flattering. In the "Our Queensland" series published by the Courier-Mail, Mike O'Connor gave his view of what people thought about Queensland.
"We were the hick state, hicks from Hicksville who lived in the hick Deep North."
Hardly a good look, eh? But it got worse:
"I went back to work on a newspaper and suffered through the excesses of the Joh years. Not content with making my home state the butt of the nation's jokes, it seemed that he was intent on making it the laughing stock of the universe. They were dark times and I clearly remember travelling south on business and being ashamed, when introduced to a group of strangers, of admitting that I came from Queensland."
"The southern journos wouldn't even drink with us, such was the odium of living in Queensland. It was guilt by association. Somehow, it was felt that as journalists we should have done more and that because we had not we sanctioned, by default, what was happening in the streets. "
"Maybe they were right. Maybe we should have done more. They were, by any reckoning, dark days."
I can't actually vouch for that. I was close on seven when Joh left office, and had only been in Queensland for about four of those.
He hasn't been in power for 18 years, but still his legacy is being debated.
Some say he was good for the state, some that he was bad.
This muddled thinking is reflected in a list of the top 10 best and worst decisions in Queensland's history.
Six of the best decisions came about because of support from Joh's government, if not the man himself, while six of the worst decisions were begun or perpetuated by Joh.
There's no doubt that Queensland has moved a long way from where it was. One thing that boggles the mind was that between the 1930s and the early 1950s no new secondary school were built in Queensland - apparently because the then Labor government thought educated people wouldn't vote for them, and anyway they didn't want Protestants getting an education.
As would be expected with an official government policy like that, sectarianism was a major problem, while a lack of enthusiasm for international migrants means Queensland is one of the least ethnically diverse states.
Add to this a lack of an upper house in the Queensland parliament since 1922, and you've got quite a shambles.
One of Joh's better decision was to abolish death taxes (taxes on inheritances) in 1972. All of a sudden old people from other states flocked to Queensland.
Joh also supported foreign investment in Queensland, as well as the development of places like the Gold Coast. Just like the building of the Snowy Scheme would be almost impossible today, there's very little to suggest any other government at any other time could have helped the Gold Coast to where it is now.
Other infrastructure projects included the South-East Freeway and the Gateway Bridge, the building of the Wivenhoe and Burdekin Dams and Brisbane hosting the 1982 Commonwealth Games and 1988 Expo.
Then there's the bad parts - not least the massive corruption in the police force.
Former police commissioner Terry Lewis was charged, imprisoned, de-knighted and even had his portrait taken down from police headquarters.
The only reason the Fitzgerald Inquiry, which exposed this corruption, came about was because Joh was busy gallivanting around the country trying to be elected as Prime Minister. Acting premier William Gunn decided he'd had enough after the ABC's Four Corners aired a segment called The Moonlight State. Gunn wanted the allegations investigated - which they were.
There was also the demolishing of some of Brisbane's historic buildings, including the Belle Vue Hotel, the handing out of knighthoods willy-nilly, the use of police in a way more associated with dictatorships, and at one stage, the banning of street protests altogether.
It's no wonder the older population has trouble deciding on the good and the bad of Joh's reign - but what hope is there for my generation?
Perhaps Queensland's history until the 1990s should be part of the school curriculum - not only can we learn about one of the more turbulent periods of Australian history, but also learn from the mistakes and successes. It explains a lot.
For those not from Queensland, this has about as much relevance as the deaths of any number of people in the southeast Queensland town of Kingaroy.
For those from Queensland - and I would suspect those who aren't but are of a certain age - Sir Joh was a man who didn't just leave footprints on the beach of history, but instead altered it forever by performing a series of burnouts in a hotted-up, Queensland-made car.
As any Queenslander who has travelled will know, the Queensland stereotype under Joh was hardly flattering. In the "Our Queensland" series published by the Courier-Mail, Mike O'Connor gave his view of what people thought about Queensland.
"We were the hick state, hicks from Hicksville who lived in the hick Deep North."
Hardly a good look, eh? But it got worse:
"I went back to work on a newspaper and suffered through the excesses of the Joh years. Not content with making my home state the butt of the nation's jokes, it seemed that he was intent on making it the laughing stock of the universe. They were dark times and I clearly remember travelling south on business and being ashamed, when introduced to a group of strangers, of admitting that I came from Queensland."
"The southern journos wouldn't even drink with us, such was the odium of living in Queensland. It was guilt by association. Somehow, it was felt that as journalists we should have done more and that because we had not we sanctioned, by default, what was happening in the streets. "
"Maybe they were right. Maybe we should have done more. They were, by any reckoning, dark days."
I can't actually vouch for that. I was close on seven when Joh left office, and had only been in Queensland for about four of those.
He hasn't been in power for 18 years, but still his legacy is being debated.
Some say he was good for the state, some that he was bad.
This muddled thinking is reflected in a list of the top 10 best and worst decisions in Queensland's history.
Six of the best decisions came about because of support from Joh's government, if not the man himself, while six of the worst decisions were begun or perpetuated by Joh.
There's no doubt that Queensland has moved a long way from where it was. One thing that boggles the mind was that between the 1930s and the early 1950s no new secondary school were built in Queensland - apparently because the then Labor government thought educated people wouldn't vote for them, and anyway they didn't want Protestants getting an education.
As would be expected with an official government policy like that, sectarianism was a major problem, while a lack of enthusiasm for international migrants means Queensland is one of the least ethnically diverse states.
Add to this a lack of an upper house in the Queensland parliament since 1922, and you've got quite a shambles.
One of Joh's better decision was to abolish death taxes (taxes on inheritances) in 1972. All of a sudden old people from other states flocked to Queensland.
Joh also supported foreign investment in Queensland, as well as the development of places like the Gold Coast. Just like the building of the Snowy Scheme would be almost impossible today, there's very little to suggest any other government at any other time could have helped the Gold Coast to where it is now.
Other infrastructure projects included the South-East Freeway and the Gateway Bridge, the building of the Wivenhoe and Burdekin Dams and Brisbane hosting the 1982 Commonwealth Games and 1988 Expo.
Then there's the bad parts - not least the massive corruption in the police force.
Former police commissioner Terry Lewis was charged, imprisoned, de-knighted and even had his portrait taken down from police headquarters.
The only reason the Fitzgerald Inquiry, which exposed this corruption, came about was because Joh was busy gallivanting around the country trying to be elected as Prime Minister. Acting premier William Gunn decided he'd had enough after the ABC's Four Corners aired a segment called The Moonlight State. Gunn wanted the allegations investigated - which they were.
There was also the demolishing of some of Brisbane's historic buildings, including the Belle Vue Hotel, the handing out of knighthoods willy-nilly, the use of police in a way more associated with dictatorships, and at one stage, the banning of street protests altogether.
It's no wonder the older population has trouble deciding on the good and the bad of Joh's reign - but what hope is there for my generation?
Perhaps Queensland's history until the 1990s should be part of the school curriculum - not only can we learn about one of the more turbulent periods of Australian history, but also learn from the mistakes and successes. It explains a lot.
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