exciting development, folks. kp has written with his very own fravina-worthy ethnographic report of social life in brisbane, and it's a doozy. warning: there is racism and foul language in australia. and in this post.
his first installment is titled: "saturday night in brisbane"
(here's hoping for many more)
Hello Gang,
So, as Leslie knows, my flatmate Rory asked if he could have the place to himself yesterday afternoon/evening. I obliged the request, no problems, and took advantage of the opportunity to check out the Surrealism exhibit at the Gallery of Modern Art. Lots of good stuff. Granted most of it is on loan from the Pompidou, but still cool to see.
With that behind me, I decided to stroll down Boundary Street, the main thoroughfare in my neighborhood, West End. I had a book with me, so I stopped in the Archive Beer Boutique and Bistro for a beverage and maybe a meal. New to the menu was "New Orleans Style Chicken Wings." These were very good, but I couldn't figure out what made them New Orleans (nor for that matter what New Orleans Style Chicken Wings would be, having never encountered them in New Orleans, where Buffalo wings are very popular).
After Archive, I was planning just to head home and watch some Friday Night Lights, which I'd checked out from the video store. But I heard some live music -- rockabilly -- coming from a bar/venue called the Boundary Hotel across the street. I was drawn in, and here I learned some valuable things:
1) In Brisbane, it is not frowned upon -- rather it is expected -- that you will bring your koozy with you for a night out at the bar. Note to self for next time. Though be advised that they call a koozy a "stubby holder."
2) There's really only one light beer, XXXX Gold (pron. Fourex Gold). It's Queensland's Miller Lite. In this bar, they have a big ad for it that says simply: "Drink it when you have to go back to work." This corroborates something another bartender told me several weeks back: "Yeah, you really only drink that when you're driving."
3) I met two dudes, brothers actually -- Glen and Dean -- who were a riot, full of many colorful observations, mainly concerning other patrons in the bar, that I would never relate here. One of them -- I never got their names straight; I think it was Glen -- was married with children, and was going on and on about what a wonderful place Brisbane was to raise a family (he was from Victoria originally). Wonderful medical care, great schools, incredibly safe. And then he says:
"The best thing is that everyone just gets along here. Wherever you come from, you're welcome here. Everyone's friendly. The only problem is" -- wait for it; classic Aussie move -- "all the f@ckin Ahabs moving in."
"Ahab" was a nice touch. Glen also told me that the reason XXXX was named XXXX is that Queenslanders couldn't spell "Beer."
As the night ended, I realized that this was really my first proper Saturday night in Brisbane. I'd been out for dinner, I guess. But I hadn't really "done" Boundary Street. Good times. And I was still home and in bed by 11.