Observations and fragments from the Dandenong Ranges; work, weather, buses, technology, suburbia and the strange texture of contemporary Australian life.
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Upwey on a winters evening
Waiting outside the Upwey supermarket for my son to come back from the city, a 57-minute journey in the dark. It’s a big journey for a shy and gentle 16-year-old. Waiting in the cold. Suddenly, an electric SUV stops at the pedestrian crossing and the car following behind, an older red Corolla, slams on the…
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The mysterious art of ball slapping and the decay of man
It was a normal Sunday evening trawling the socials in front of the fire. Time not well spent, but Dostoevsky was denser and more meaningful than the fluff available on X (formerly Twitter). In the old days, we watched the Sunday movie on the TV, now we watch the world burn in what my wife…
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The shit fuckery of late capitalism in Australia
The Melbourne Cup is Australia’s version of the Kentucky Derby, The Epsom Derby, and Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe a couple of times. It’s a national celebration of buffoonery, alcohol abuse, and questionable fashion choices. Oh, and gambling. The first time I attended was when I was nineteen and worked the bar in corporate marquees.…
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Adrift in a sea of intoxication
My first alcoholic drink was sometime in Wagga Wagga, a large town in the Riverina district of NSW on the west coast of Australia. Rich farming country that bred healthy football players and at least one famous cricket player. Anyway, the first drink was from a long neck of Crown Lager or Fosters while our…
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The sad tale of the chicken coop that never was
February 2020: I had just finished a board meeting at the property technology startup that I was working with, and it felt good. The numbers were heading in the right direction, we had traction. It was going to be a good year. In an excellent demonstration of the developed and developing world dichotomy, it was…
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Ferny Creek: cults, weirdos, conservatives, and the enterprising Breen
On the 30th of March in 1918, while the so-called Great War was raging in Europe, there was a land auction on the Holly Hill Estate in the Dandenongs. The land was owned by William Breen and the auction conducted by Coghill and Haughton, respectable auctioneers based in the city, 42 kilometres to the west.…
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Upper Ferntree Gully: bland, beige, and not many ferns
Before Uber came to the hills if you wanted to be picked up from Upper Ferntree Gully Railway station, 41 kilometres from the centre of Melbourne, the taxi driver would confirm the pick up address as ‘Upper Gully Rail’. Often there would be a long wait and I would have to relocate to the pub,…
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A brief history of working from the (home) office
When I started my working career in an engineering business, I worked in the office, with no exceptions. The working day started at 8:30 am in the office and finished anytime after 5.30 pm, often later. Technology limitations meant that calls, invoices, meetings, and customer support all happened from a building filled with co-workers (hopefully)…
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Paying attention to how we pay attention
There is a special type of braggadocious social post that manages to get the bile rising in the throat faster than a greenwash post from a fossil fuel company. I’m thinking of the disciplined time schedule post that says, look how busy I am, look how successful I am, and consequently, look at how much…
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Reveries of a solitary walker
Reveries of a solitary walker or Les rêveries du Promeneur Solitaire by Jean Jacques Rousseau is one of the first modern love stories dedicated to the art of walking. Written near the end of his life, Rousseau reflects on his life and his perceived persecutions for his ideas. The writing is quite beautiful with Rousseau…
