I'm off to Melbourne for a couple of days. A long-time friend is getting married in what I expect to be an OTT extravaganza. I've already been informed that I'm sitting next to a former girlfriend, and another ex will be at my table. Joy to the world. Alas, I have few fears. Everybody has moved on and our lives are better enriched without the other. Besides, returning to my home-town always brings a certain thrill. My closest friends are there, all living about five minutes walking distance from each other in Fitzroy. Bars, brasseries and booze will be consumed and visited.
I don't miss Premier Steve Bracks. I don't miss The Age. I do miss Yelza.
For those missing the incisive political commentary, here's something to keep you occupied.
For those missing the occasional witty animation, take a look at these.
For the others, leave in comments your most memorable wedding experience, positive or less than ideal.
I don't miss Premier Steve Bracks. I don't miss The Age. I do miss Yelza.
For those missing the incisive political commentary, here's something to keep you occupied.
For those missing the occasional witty animation, take a look at these.
For the others, leave in comments your most memorable wedding experience, positive or less than ideal.
15 Comments:
Consuming or visiting a brassiere?
Ideally, consuming the entire damn place, but take your pick. Whatever rocks your boat.
My most memorable wedding experience would be my own, but I guess you had to be me to appreciate it.
I doubt I'd miss my hometown newspaper either, but given your preceding item on Nauru, The Age (or Michael Gordon at least) should get credit for giving such a profile to this important story.
Michael Gordon has made an impact already with some of his past stories on refugees, and finally breaking the mainstream media blackout on the remaining refugees on Nauru could well prove to be signficant.
My father and my grandmother used to share a wedding story about my grandfather who was born, bred and burried in Pilhov na Popradom (River Poprad seperated the Slovak from the Polish bunch). I understand that his intention to marry a local girl where announced on Sunday at two different churches on the same day and only a few weeks before he was to serve in the Austrio-Hungarian regiment.
The only problem was that he proposed to two different girls and both shared the great news with the local priest ;-D The story spread quickly like wildfire and good empire Franz Jozef saved my grandfather's skin.
Certainly Australia would welcome him today as he ended up bragging a fertile life. Jozef Imrich fathered 11 children. I believe that seven with his first wife and four with his second wife. He did get married second time after his first wife died and that the second time he only proposed to Katarina and no one else.
He was almost 40 when he married my grandmother Katarina who turned 16. My grandmother used to retell this and many other stories whenever I invaded her place during school holidays. It was a place without electricity and running water yet full of soulful stories and memories.
(My grandmother who had a smile on her face all the time despite the hard life in a hard environment passed away peacefully with her trademark smile in Vrbov six months before I left the bad old Czechoslovakia.)
At a mate's wedding a couple of years back I was best man, and it was requested by the groom that I incorporate quotes in my speech from Karl Marx, Bob Ellis, and Dr. Seuss.
Needless to say it was an interesting speech.
Still in Melbourne. Wedding was nice last night, if a little conventional. You know, if you're spending absurd amounts on the event, wouldn't you want many personal touches?
Andrew, re the Nauru story. I agree, great the Age is writing about it, BUT, why the hell has it taken so long? If the government didn't allow access, find ways to get in. Dateline did. As did others. It's shameful that Fairfax has to wait until they're told it's OK to go.
I'd love to sit next to you at a wedding, mine!
The good: Okay, so it wasn't a "wedding", it was a commitment ceremony (but it SHOULD be allowed to be called a wedding). Regardless, the weather was perfect and the ceremony was one of the most touching and genuine expressions of love I’ve ever beared witness to. Of course, having Sydney Harbour as the backdrop didn’t hurt. The reception was laid back, yet elegant, simple yet catered to perfection. God bless gay boys – they know how to “do” cocktail parties (and there’s no risk of me ever out doing the bride!).
The bad: A colleague’s wedding held in a park next to a Sydney beach 2 years ago. The day started out very warm and sunny, however, a southerly blew in just as the ceremony kicked off. By the end, everyone was saturated and the outdoor reception had to be cancelled.
The ugly: London 1998. The bride arrived at the church 45 minutes late and a little tipsy. Her conditioned continued to worsen as the afternoon wore on. 2 hours into the reception, she vomited on herself before passing out. Her mother cried. The groom left.
P.S. I would like to say that the 'anonymous' comment above was not from me.
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Quick question Antony, you don't have a brother named Phillip do you? I went to a Melbourne school with a Phillip Lowenstein some years back. Just curious.
-Tony D
Nope. No brother or sister. Only child.
And my mother ain't some rich bitch who works for Bill Blass.
Ah cool, just a curious thought... you look kinda like him is all :-)
Have Fun!
-TD
Antony, Antony, I wouldn't care if your mother was Tony Abbott's cleaner - if that doesn't say how much I care for you I don't know what does. So how about it baby? Wanna sit next to me at my wedding?
I think I'm busy on most weekends until a progressive man or woman is elected in Australia.
I know, it'll be a while....
That's the sweeted let down I have ever had....
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