I’d heard of Desert Island Discs before, but the most recent episode of No Such Thing As A Fish piqued my interest. Not so much about the programme, but about what eight tracks I would choose to bring along to my unplanned deserted island getaway. And what would be the ONE track I would bring.
I would need a belter. Something to really throw my everything into.
Something metal, to keep the evil spirits company. I was going to have a second mind-melting time signature category, but I think that can be combined with the metal.
Something sexy, to keep the evil spirits company.
Something gentle, but interesting. This will complement the sexy quite well.
A silly skatepunk song to goof around to. This will be a good one to double up for a teenage nostalgia song, too.
Now it’s starting to get difficult. Something grungy would be good, but…Ten or Siamese Dream?
Tom Waits gets his own category, but…what song? That’s tricky.
And for the final song, it has to be something folky. Something with a story. And I’m going to cheat a bit and pick three songs as one.
I am, of course, having second thoughts now that I’ve picked my songs, but this is where I landed this time. If I were to do this again at another time, with a different day behind me, I suspect I would end up with a different list.
The list ended up thusly:
Creedence Clearwater Revival – Fortunate Son Meshuggah – Combustion (mind-melting and heavy as) Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros – Mondo Bongo Portishead – Wandering Star (there’s a little half-second piano solo around the 2-minute mark that makes this song incredibly special for me. I don’t know why it’s so special, but that little repeated chord is something else.) Blink 182 – M+M’s The Smashing Pumpkins – Mayonaise Tom Waits – Tango Till They’re Sore The Decemberists – Crane Wife 1, 2, and 3.
I regret not including The Cranberries, but I don’t know what I’d take out. Knee-jerk reaction is to remove Blink 182 because they’re not a “good” band, but there’s an energy to the music that I wouldn’t want to part with. I think replacing the belter (Fortunate Son) with The Cranberries would be the way to go, and picking a suitably sing-y Cranberries song.
Picking a single song to keep me company until I’m rescued isn’t easy, but because this is the game, I will choose Wandering Star.
I’d love to hear what 8 songs you would choose to bring along – comment below. 🙂
I don’t own a lot of cookbooks compared to some. Some dozens, I guess. They’re tucked away, in a little Ikea cupboard and they rarely see the light of day. If I want a recipe these days, I tend to reach for my phone rather than casting my eyes over my cookbooks because it’s convenient and easy. And there are reviews. We love reviews, right? Confidence inspiring 5 star recipes only, please!
One of my neighbours, on a whim, bought me a copy of the First Nations Food Companion. It’s a really wonderful resource, full of inspiring and interesting looking recipes, and detailed information on how to source these rarer ingredients – be it by foraging, growing, or ordering online.
Tonight I had an idea, and that was to share the book with a friend. I grabbed the book off the shelf, hopped in the car, and headed over. I knew that flicking through the cookbook together would be lovely.
And it was really lovely. But something unexpected happened.
I didn’t expect all of the conversation triggers.
I’ve always said that if you want to talk to someone well, go for a walk with them. You don’t need to make eye contact, silences are natural because you’re walking and sometimes you just want to look where you’re going and focus on that, and there are things out there in the wide world that keep your mind ticking over and conversation flowing.
I need to add “or sit down with a recipe book” to my saying.
The conversation flowed and meandered effortlessly from food to childhood memories to fears, travel, loves, relationships, and more.
So, go on. Grab a cookbook, put on some music, and sit down with a friend and flick through the pages and see where you end up, what you end up learning, and what you end up sharing.
It’s coming up to two years since I decided to break up with booze. I remember my last drink very clearly. I was in Apollo Bay, in the Otways in Victoria. Staying at the hostel together with neighbours, old friends, and new friends. We were there for a big birthday bash where the whole hostel was booked out just for us. I hope to do the same next year, but that’s for another blog post, I think.
Anyway.
Tomorrow marks the 700th day since I stopped drinking, and I feel like reflecting on, and documenting, it somehow so I don’t forget what it’s been like.
The first thing that struck me first about the cold turkey, was that it was easy. I think because I was ready, emotionally, to cut alcohol out of my life, it wasn’t difficult. I wondered if I would have any physical withdrawals, and I worried I would. Fortunately I didn’t.
I avoided drinking situations early on, because I was worried I would be tempted to “just have one”. I, honestly, don’t think I had a drinking problem when I stopped, and it wasn’t why I decided to give it all up. I struggle with moderation. My attitude is (or was, more accurately) that everything should be taken in moderation, even moderation. So sometimes I’d go overboard. And then the anxiety with a dose of self loathing would set in the next day. I knew that cold turkey would be the way to go.
Then I started to put myself into drinking situations. Go to the pub. Hang out with my most boozehoundy friends. Just to make sure I could. And I could. It was easy, even.
My most boozehoundy friends thought it was boring that I didn’t drink. Or thought it was “extreme”. I initially thought that they were threatened by my decision, but I think in the end I think I’ve settled on that suddenly the friendship changed, because we couldn’t do the same thing we’ve done since high school together any more. But in the end, this was what I needed, and I feel good for having done it.
I feel better for not drinking. There’s no doubt about it. Emotionally, and physically.
My cardiologist thinks it’s highly unfair that I stopped drinking 2 years ago and 6 months after that had an issue with my heart, that is usually caused by drinking. It’s annoying that I developed this heart thing, but that it happened even though I’d stopped drinking doesn’t bother me. I assume it would have been much worse had I still been drinking, so, I see it as a win.
I love not having hangovers. They’re the pits and I’m super pleased I don’t have them any more. Even that dusty feeling after drinking even sensibly.
I haven’t lost weight. I hoped I would. But I must have replaced the calories with something else. Oh well.
For a while I missed the idea that you would have a few drinks to let your hair down. To relax. Unwind. Suppress those inhibitions. But since then I’ve found other ways to relax and unwind, and I quickly realised that I’m comfortable enough in myself to not need a social lubricant.
I miss the experience of trying new beers and wines. And talking to people about them.
I like that my actions are mine. At all times. Even the worse decisions.
Would I recommend cutting booze out of your life? Yes, if you think you should. Then absolutely give it a go. Don’t beat yourself up if you can’t. Society puts some weird pressure on us about alcohol. That you gave quitting a go is an achievement in itself.
I wish I could cold turkey some other things in life. I need to figure out what the exact trigger was for alcohol and see if I can apply them to something else. Like sugar.
Thanks for reading. This is a bit more rambly than I initially expected, but that’s ok. I think I’ve managed to convey what I wanted.
With the Fringe starting in Adelaide again, I decided to try my hand at some Street Portraits. I approach a random stranger, and ask if I can take their portrait. Simple, really.
I decided I wanted a way for people to be able to find their photos, so designed this little TLR and Instagram business card, matching the type of camera I use for the portraits.
The cards turned up today, and I’m so pleased with them!
I was devastated when I realised that my Unit has a crack in the drive-side rear dropout. I was at the beach when it was spotted. I called half a dozen or so frame builders and welders, and so far only one has been willing to have a proper look at it, inside of 5-6 months, and even they aren’t ready to go for a few more weeks.
I didn’t realise how attached I was to this bike. We’ve had some amazing adventures, and I was planning many more.
Some photos of the broken bike below. I’m hoping I can get some photos of the repaired bike soon. And I need to figure out what colour to paint it.
