A Magical Moment

The round full moon focused its mellow intensity on to my living room. The garden solar-powered lights complemented the unavoidable spotlight from the springtime star-dotted night sky. The lawn was lit in a light hearted sheen that seemed to nurture the green grass rather than apparently burn down on them.

This was a magical moment, something we all know requires the perfect alignment - and maybe coincidence - of the stars, wind and time. On Sunday, after coming out from Joel Aden's birthday party, my Forrester indicated it was thirty-three degrees Celsius outside on a shiny torrid afternoon in Sydney's north-west. The mileage showed a chalk-up of 33,333 kilometres - an incredible hallmark moment when I happened to glance at this synchronisation of numbers. You may say that we don't plan such things, we set in motion a chain and sequence of events, usage and preparation to then by chance arrive at a remarkable observation.

I had been trying for a week to pay some minor transaction. The requirement and reliance on credit card mechanisms, website log-in, system verification and internet support ensured that my few attempts on-line led me literally nowhere. Even after registering a requested log-in and getting to completing payment details, the web-based procedure then gave a sudden stop with an offered message that the system processing my transaction had just changed and I was unable to proceed further - at least on the internet. Whether out of desperation or exasperation, I then decided to call a telephone number to try completing the payment - very well knowing the waiting time hanging on to the telephone.

I did get through to a live person, surprisingly only after three minutes. The magic occurred when Nathan came on the line with a lilting, personable voice full of character and liveliness. What a magical moment, I thought, when he listened intently to my problem, spoke at the right cues and in an unassuming manner achieved for me what I have been attempting for the past week on the internet.

I had wanted to streamline the papers in my office room for a long time. I theorised that the trick on my part was to stop more hard copies coming in and culling what I have already accumulated. I thought there are some things that I could not turn off completely, like documents that essentially supported the work, daily newspapers and weekly professional magazines. I corralled piles of work papers that seemed relevant and related to keep when they were generated, but now looked likely that they are past their shelf life. At the same time, I knew instinctively I had to take a radically different approach if things were to really change. At times I felt like just chipping at hard bricks, so I felt truly amazed when now I have reached the stage of minimalist existence in terms of hard copies just necessary to get the work completed.

Alcohol Not So Anonymous

It is easier to locate an outlet selling alcohol in Australia than one serving salads, offering gymnasium facilities or a place offering positive help in community matters.

The encouraged lifestyle reeks of alcohol - advertising media, sports celebrations, commercial office functions and social cocktails. The largest supermarket chain places its liquor outlets near the checkout. Accessory products and services support and facilitate their consumption, from motor car portable fridges to the compulsory bar at the local clubs. It is implied that one has alcoholic drinks before settling into any dinner - formal, casual or spontaneous. Wine is introduced as a posh feature, consolidated in family and other occasions and any possibility of upscaling in taste to somthing more hard is officially sanctioned once one turns eighteen years of age.

Who is to take responsibility when faced with the dire consequences of excessive alcohol consumption? Does letting go mean recklessly escaping into an oblivious state of partaking a dubious mixture of alcohol laden drinks and party drugs, commonly available at suburban house parties, cbd nightclubs and getaway summer beach parties? Some parents introduce their teenage children to their first
drinks but forget or do not know how to manage the follow-up. What do we make sense of the drunken driver,party fracas, domestic assault or nightclub episode, when we know that beneath it all, it started not with a kiss, but a drink too many.

Individuals may know there is a better way to get to a high or avoid boredom other than through the temporary delusion of a drink or a gambling bet. However it does not help when diverted by too much easy access to all sorts of alcoholic suggestions on the way to a true chill out. Whether it's a racing carnival, AFL or NRL game or office drinks, drink is laid down as the glue to acceptance, camaraderie and networking - why not stimulating conversation?

The lure of easy revenue streams into government coffers from the wholesome sales of alcohol products must be balanced by the related rising social, personal and financial costs to the community. Champagne breakfasts, beer battered fish and alcoholpops are all signs of runaway consumption and excessive supply. A New Zealand expert has warned of the link between excessive alcohol consumption in women and the incidence of breast cancer. Where does this malaise end?

My Old Neighbourhood: Section 17

This was the world of university days, when relief meant getting away from the books, assignments and lecture routine.

Neat rows of houses were lined up along grid roads in what was a typical housing estate. There was a green lung of a square green,which I still associate with Simon, Stephen and Kuan Hong sitting there on its edge, after an early dinner and before the equatorial sunset. There was the cinema quarter, surrounded by terraced shophouses, motorbike parking spots and push-bike hawkers. Road 6 does not seem to have changed, still exuding the presence of student rooms, walls bleached by the strong sun and upper floor balconies choked with items that could not be stored inside. However the cinema is gone, replaced by a mixed goods supermarket.

I wonder about the youngsters who grew up in the other rooms while I took one facing the road. I think about the mixed rice dishes which was sold at a price that I cannot even get a Coke can for these days. How regimented our student lives may have been, but we also did enjoy it, especially after dinner, with the fluorescent lights ablaze in our respective rooms all along the sometimes sloping roads of Section 17. Our reliable means of transportation to and from the campus were the Honda 70s, normally parked along the walled fences of houses beside the single car of the landlord. There was no decent grocery supermarket or department store in Section 17, so I often rode my motorbike to Section 14 or 21.

Section 17 brings back memories of single bed thin mattresses, a lone desk with a study lamp and the ever hidden luggage bag only taken out for semester holiday breaks. Bathrooms had white tiles and the array of toiletries of different tenants.  The place was a university dormitory corridor, mostly resided by students after their first year living in campus. It was at worst a transitory place, at best a place where dreams and characteristics were shaped and transformed. There were, and still, are a lack of trees, and the tar of the roads between houses still look like needing a serious new coating.