beginnings

(thanks to Kilbey for the idea...)

1969/70
man lands on the moon
woodstock, mud n madness
altamont, death and decay of the dream
vietnam in full flight
some coming home alive, 
some coming home in bags
in the midst of it all
out I come
few weeks early
trying to poison mother not my best move
but nonetheless
it all seemed to work out...
arriving on a sunday
my dad racing from church to see me
apparently fighting with nurses n all n sundry to get in
not the done thing in those days - 
men were to pace the corridors
n wait with the other blokes
not feel comfortable with being there
but things were changing even then
n my old man,
the european in him always seemed to win out
embrace the new regardless
so there he was with  the Mr Hattam
catching the end of the action.
seems I was a happy enough bub
ate too much even then
(you should see the pictures - the michelin man in action!)
born in inner city melbourne 
st andrews
its funny how when i get back there
i always love those suburbs
they are almost magical for me
the terrace houses
the university
the avenues of trees in autumn
the markets
the cheese shops
buskers
the smell of coffee
in those days
the italian and chinese sub-cultures
walk a block and all would change
the smells
the sounds
the dialogue
the music
of yeah music
my mistress my friend my passion my curse
dont remember much about the music that was played in those really early years
there must have been some
i guess at church
n in the house
I check out my dads old lps for clues 
not a rocker really
dutch college swing band was about as hip as it got
loads of classical
but not really sure about what he liked
chant
symphonic
choir
organ
its all there
but it was a different time then
so much was determined my what you did
n I guess a young cleric
would be a bit dubious with sgt pepper or cream
the stones would be well out too
not to mention hendrix or sly n family
funny how this music
(someone called it "classic rock" the other day and I was ready to murder...)
keeps on calling to me
one look at my cd's would tell ya
beatles
traffic
small faces
who
otis
sly
curtis 
joni
crosby stills nash
byrds

its my history
it forms my present
its my last six months of the sixties tale.

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