It’s been another long day at the Gympie Muster, starting with breakfast, and arriving home at about 10.45 tonight.
It wasn’t my usual weekday breakfast. As we watched a bluegrass band play, we chowed down on sausages, bacon, beans, hash-browns and… Milo. Yes, Milo! I haven’t had a Milo since it was a childhood favourite, and so when I saw it on the menu, I couldn’t resist it. The musical breakfast was great, and, as I tweeted earlier in the day, it was great to hear the Theme from Deliverance played without any sense of irony.
Other musical highlights of the day included Luke Austen doing covers of both Stevie Ray Vaughan and Slim Dusty’s “Lights On The Hill”, along with a massive sing-a-long to John Williamson’s “True Blue”. As the crowd of thousands sang along to one his biggest hits, I reflected on all the other great songs he’s written and performed. “He’s quite subversive in his lyrics”, I mentioned to a colleague, referring to the “progressive politics” of songs like “Rip Rip Woodchip” and “Raining On The Rock”.
Speaking of woodchip, an unexpected highlight of the day was seeing the comedian Wil Anderson perform. I’ve seen Wil on several occasions at the Sydney Opera House. This venue was quite different, however, as a lot of people (myself included) sat on a floor of woodchip and sawdust. In contrast to some of the other comedians playing whose humour was sometimes sexist and racist, Wil’s humour is very PC, but not in a PC kind of way. There could have been a tendency for a city-based comedian to assume this was redneck territory he was talking to. But being from the bush himself, he knew not to underestimate the audience. “Who here supports gay marriage?”, he asked, and I was pleased with the level of support that came back. The audience was perhaps less forgiving when he mentioned he was vegetarian :) Anyway, it was a great show which both he and the audience seem to really enjoy.
Throughout the day I ate far too much, and had a couple of beers as well. I needed a beer before undertaking a beginner’s class in clogging. A bit like line-dancing, clogging originates in the Apalachian Mountains, apparently. “It’s a great way to meet chicks”, the instructor said to me as I came on the floor as part of the class. I think both he and I appreciated the humour in his comment. Unofficially I was the worst in the class, with an almost no co-ordination or sense of rhythm. What happened? I used to be quite a good dancer. But tonight I struggled, really struggled. Perhaps I might have been more successful, had I been there for the earlier class instructed by a bloke who sounded oh, so, much like Mr G. Seriously.
Heading back to Sydney tomorrow feeling… revitalised… by my time in the bush.