...announcing the Gala Opening...
Yes Moomba is the season for nostalgia.
And I was almost hit on the head with nostalgia last week when my bookcase collapsed.
I was reading Graham Kennedy's Melbourne at the time, which is full of photos like this and this.
Actually it was mainly poetry and penguins that collapsed around me.
And top of the pile was Things Fall Apart.
7 comments:
..at the centre
I was dragged along to the MCG way back then by a mate of mine to see King Billy.
Notwithstanding the seriously persuasive mass hysteria I resisted the temptation (Hush my mouth!) to do the "I want you to get up out of your seat" thing.
Only time I'd did that was when Peter McKenna popped his twelvety-tenth goal through the perpendiculars in a finals series - which Collingwood was, as ever (yes I DO know all about them thar pre Daicosian Sophocleian greek tragedies) doomed/destined/fated to lose.
Needless to say I'm off to Hell in a Nabisco Biskit. (I blame Crackers Keenan!)
This gives an eerie edge to Bob Dylan's proclamation "Nostalgia is death."
Or the bottom? (In the moomba sense of the word...)
Biggest gig ever?
Did you see The Shark Net< Sedge? Resistance was possible in Perth too, although there were other temptations that didn't involve pigskin.
(That'll further increase my hits for TSN which is a VCE text apparently)
There was a time when books were bound to fall
penguins that collapsed around me
Swooning? Syncope? Fairy dust?
Did I mean puffin'?
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