Delights of Darlington

Now settled and reasonably confident that I can published there seems no reason why I can't continue to berate you with the miniature of my life as before.

The block through which no pregnant woman should be led least her soul be stolen is just that a block, not even as exciting the television one, more like that vacant one with its crop of paspalum and scotch thistle west of Jiggi. Aspirational home buyers and Chinese immigrants have seen to that. Isn't it obvious that to diffuse any racial conflict (listen up Hutus, Tutsis, Palestinians) get yourself some Chinese. There's billions of them. They have nothing to do with your problem and no comprehension of it. They'll pay higher rent. They don't make waves and best of all will eventually leave for Epping, North Ryde and Eastwood, remaining only as landlords. In no time your argument is lost in a sea of indistinguishable faces with the same name. Jobs done.

It's certainly worked for Redfern. Can't even find an original but for the odd beggar and even she's clever enough to beg elsewhere where there aren't so many Chinese. No it's the real estate industry - "Domain Rules" - (graffiti I look forward to) in charge here. There are no homes here, just portfolios. No one expects to live here and raise a family. It's just a foot/toe hold in the market. I'm not sure anyone believes in home as anything more than somewhere to renovate nowadays. Perhaps we are turning back to nomads always looking for another cave. My pad is a clever example.

The home I regard as ancestral is Aintree 'the farm' but I spent less than seven years there. No I haven't spent more than that time anywhere else but who among you have. I haven't even spent longer in a suburban area. Alice has spent more time in a society of school and suburb than I and may claim northern beaches origin but It doesn't compare to Jamie Packer's belief in Bellevue Hill does it?

Chris and Sue held out in Engadine long enough for Kelly to become a desirable 'Shire Girl' but they could not sustain it and after aimless wanderings have set seed once more in Goulburn where Kelly may have been conceived? Even born? They have demonstrated conviction but it's hard to identify home here. Dot was well established in cleverly brick clad fibro at Collaroy till she moved to the hillside of Elanora where she clings like a stag horn till when? Do Luke and Gabby regard themselves as of Collaroy? Elanora? or simply Northern Beaches like Alice. Hugh has probably out stayed anyone in both Bellevue Hill (with Jamie) and In Kings X But who will call these home? Melanie? I don't think so and she will have no children any way.. I won't even mention my youngest sibling here. A gardener' tenderer of roots'. Ross and Anne with their brood at Castle Epping are our last hope but it's a big ask against the Mongol hordes being bred in Darlington.

Never mind I'm finding myself quiet comfortable, always warm just like the caves of old. It's a bit dissapointing to find the closest open pub, The Shannon, over 150 paces away where mud brown exterior on Abercrombie Street gives way to dismal white and grey, aluminium and glass modernity inside. Some back lit mandala of Irishness and framed covers of albums by Seans and Marys do little to raise the feeling of oppression. It's a great shame that the Thurles Castle, named no doubt after the town in North Tipperary and possibly closer by a couple of paces has been partitioned into offices and a restaurant. This along with the closure of the Berkeley, with too many e's, not eight paces across the street, and rumoured to be out of action only for the Underbelly series, is a trend I intend to devote myself to reversing. I can cope with living in a stock market but one without pubs, no!

The Glengarry Castle a small move away from these Irish dominated establishments and well more than two hundred paces away is the first hole in which a gentleman might take a dram. Here one feels he can ruck in with football loving Aussies and their Anglo immigrant cousins for a warm hearted night of ruckus. So far I have not gotten past bolting a beer but the ambience and impolite staff do show promise. A few hundred paces further up Abercrombie is the non denominational Royal. Unfortunately any report I could bring to you of this establishments would be clouded by the fact that on my only two visits I was blind drunk. I can report that their steak was excellent but who wants the recommendation of a drunk.

How many of you are aware that the Glengarry is the name given to that foldable military style cap much favoured by crackpot American paramilitaries and Mussolini. For some reason had it been a Tipperary I would not have been so surprised.

Of course there are countless more establishments close at hand some of which I have found on recent Sundays to present acceptable if not exceptional entertainment. Too many some would say given the closeness of the old Newtown stomping grounds and now the CBD with all its delights. This leads nicely to the next avenue of discovery 'new morning walks' which I shall mainly present photo journalistically. Some of the highlights though were climbing to the top of that hill in More Park that has always intrigued me. Nothing really apart from the incredibly steep straight track down, probably worn by BMX and other daredevil cyclists. Finding all the splinter Christian Cathedrals in Redfern upon which Hillsong is inevitably advancing from its base in Waterloo. Discovering some of the more grand legacies of Dr. William Redfern's hundred acre land grant from Lachlan Macquarie. Discovering the scale of NSW public housing's grant to the sometimes deserving underprivileged, maybe a rival to Lachy's 100 acres. Discovering private enterprises massive developments more than equal in scale and a literal stone's throw away from this degradation. Whew.

My outlook

My prefered outlook

New cwalking vistas

New art nearby

Old neighbours. This farm house nestles not fifyy meters from South's Leagues Club which looks surprisingly like a Woolworths Supermarket

The Darlington Delight

Yoo Hoo

No I haven't died

Maybe I can die before I have to move again. Surely it's not as hard to move to the grave. Certainly wouldn't be so much baggage and possibly plenty of friends to share the load. In some respects moving, especially in latter age, is like a rehearsal for death. It's always to a smaller place (my parents two level grave has left a lasting impression on me) and that always entails a carefully considered reduction in baggage.

It was fortunate that my children so heartily welcomed the bequeath of my favourite oversized Miami Cocaine Pink Leather lounge in spite of its ever grubby appearance. Stephens bed did not fare so well, rejected by all markets, bar the salvos, as over the top and out of time. It seemed that those in the market for king size were into new and had enough stress in their lives without taking on more in the timber of their bed.

Not even the Salvos were interested in the Freedom couch that I with my assistant pall bearer Walter, graciously removed from Lavender bay. It ended its fruitful life on the nature strip opposite 44 Gordon Crescent along with mattresses and assorted smegma no longer required or accommodated. Good fortune saw Jane take simultaneous possession of her new abode in Katoomba so she and Alice shared books and book cases leaving me at only one third capacity.

So now at the expense only of a week's life, detail of which now escapes me, I am very happily ensconced at Abercrombie Street Darlington. Furniture arranged including new, Freedom Furniture lounge bed convertible, pictures hung, wires laid for sound and vision. computer up and phone connected (ah yes there's a paragraph or more in that) I must concede to a great delight in my environment. The antithesis of a grave. The discovery of a mounted Budda head on a throw out during one of my first early morning walks I take as a spiritual welcome that sort of bookended the simulated Stonehenge farewell I received at Stanmore.

I'm probably preaching to the converted but in case there are those out there who can benefit, here are some insights into modern telephone and electrical connections. Pleased with my TPG ADSL2+ internet and mobile experience for some five years now I decided to take up their home line internet package that would save me a considerable $20 per month. Now I was use to Telstra with whom it was a simple matter to transfer an existing; or create a new account and be connected same day. TPG on the other hand offered a connection in ten to twenty working days and demanded that I waive the customer service guarantee. Always one for a dare I took them up and exactly ten working days was given an appointment between 8am and 12 to await a technician from 'Telstra' to connect me. No one came and nothing happened. It's worth explaining here that all this time the phone had a dial tone and a recorded message in response to any attempt to use it explaining that it was not in service but if one wanted instant service to call I Primus by pressing 9. I took this option ,more than once, merely for the pleasure of being connected and to an Aussie, no Philippinas or Indians here. But he didn't have the secret, or more likely he wasn't letting on.

Eventually after more calls and further appointments I was connected by a TPG tek in his second week of employ who only rolled his eyes to my queries but he did a good job of it and I have almost double the previous internet speed so I am mostly satisfied with this additional $99 service. In five months I will be in the black. To sum up it appears that the availability of competition from I Primus, TPG, Optus and who knows how many other telcos has benefited us with better deals at the expense of costly and laborious connections and as the prophets all said you must take the bad with the good.

Oh yes, electrically I fared little better and I'll try to be brief. I connected with Energy Australia online but after a couple of days was cut off by um, Energy Australia at the request of Integral Energy? I dun'no who owned the connection. A couple of days and many menu selections later it was sorted and so far persists. Tell me competition in the market place doesn't work for someone.

Part of my found Budda which bears some resemblance to Jack

My stonehenge like farewell to 44 Gordon St