OnDusk

It was impossible to know who was listening. Our footprint was so large I could be in a shearing shed, a supermarket or warbling in the background while some kid was insisting he was too sick for school. Everymorning, without fail, old mate would ring me. More likely after the third song, definitely before the fifth, and sometimes I’d be only one song deep into the breakfast show and he’d be on the blower.   That song reminded me of when… I liked that song …. Did you know that song was written by…   I didn’t know this bloke. I knew someone who knew someone who was related to him. The bushvine reported he was a bit of a loner, and he’d told me himself that he lived in a wooden house out of town, on the river. Old mate would ring for a yarn, and I’d be keeping one eye on the clock. Radio is divided into seconds and I’d practiced so I could talk over the intro or the tail of a song without buggering up the singing part of the song. I can work out exactly ho...

The days are getting shorter and the nights are growing cooler so I've moved my writing set-up indoors, and then enjoyed a late burst of perfect weather. My winter writing set up .... It's not really cold enough for it yet, but I couldn't resist because if there's one thing I really enjoy, it's setting fire to things: Perfect for warming me and neighbourhood stray cats if only they'd come closer ... A writing exercise: Radio Star Goodmorning all – how’s your day so far – it’s cold, that’s what it is. Here’s three in a row to get you up, get you moving, get you into the day… If he brings you happiness…. Mmmm I love the smell of disenfectant in the morning. Using the key on the chain to unlock the luxury items – liquid soap, cheap spray & wipe and of most value, perfumed, soft as a cloud, patterned, two-ply, name brand toilet paper. No one wanted to be the radio station cleaner, but it didn’t worry me, I can breath...

The view from my window. [Northern Rivers] Working in the Northern Territory is a much different experience to travelling there for a holiday.  I count myself fortunate to have worked up there years ago. The land claimants I got to know were elderly, and many were in poor health. It gave us a purpose that kept the blood pumping, driving on dirt roads for 16 hours a day and sleeping beside croc infested waterways.  ... I was finally heading home, looking forward to a proper shower and a fresh bed, tired and hungry with my only accompaniment a blinking reserve fuel tank light. I hadn’t seen my son for a week. So I combined the two things on my mind, thinking I’ll refuel and get him a treat, and I pulled into a Katherine roadhouse. In those days there weren’t as many people you see nowadays crossing the streets and the footpaths, that you would now keep your eyes peeled for as they come out of the darkness. It was a quiet, starlit, temperate Dry evening. ...

I am now the very happy owner of a radio. I treated myself to a brand new wireless. It’s true that I can bluetooth anything through it and out its small but gutsy speakers, but I am happiest because I now have a radio with crystal clear reception. No crackle, no fuzz, no random wireless shutdown. My ears pricked up when funding issues affecting community radio got a mention during last week’s news. I didn’t get how significant community radio was to the life of a community, till I spent three years in Bourke, over a decade ago. According to the latest McNair Ingenuity survey, 4,446,000 people listen to community radio every week (which makes up 25% of the population). When “occasional” listeners are added, the figure rises to 10,611,000. (Nov 2012) Of course these figures are new, and counting big city audiences too, but the percentage of those from a rural area engaging with community radio would be greater than 25%. They say that people fear public speaking mor...

I spent three years in Bourke. A few people said to me when I’d announced my next career move was going to be Bourke, ‘have you heard about Bourke?’ …’It’s got problems’ … ‘It’s dangerous.’ For some people, it might be. I had been around, but I had never seen anything like it. I said I would be there for three years. And I was, give or take a week or so. I have nothing short of respect for the people I met in Bourke. ---------- I ran a crisis service for kids in Bourke. I was backed up by a big quiet, unassuming and purposeful guy, and it wouldn’t have been possible to live and work there without him. My 14 to 17 year old clients were what the locals called the ‘bad kids’. The kids who were not going to school, who were in and out of the courthouse and juvenile detention, who caused trouble in the street, and who didn’t have access to safe and secure accommodation in Bourke. It hadn’t been my first choice of a job. I’d been approached three times a...

After weeks of blogging indecision, it’s obvious I need to start small. This post will be around one word. ‘aks’ Used in a sentence:   ‘go aks your sister’ , or ‘ I aksed her and she don’t know…’ Urban dictionary, for what it’s worth has a definition.   UB has in fact listed several of the variants, so they’ve given it some thought. I spent a while chasing the word around the UB site – reading about ebonics – along the way. UB is American, and that’s pretty clear from the site. So when applied to an Australian context, they were a bit cockeyed. But the reference to ‘manipulation and transformation of the English language’ works for me. You may be aware that aks is not slang. Its not rap, and its not lazy. It’s a little word that packs a big story.   What inspires you to write – a dream, a disappointment, a word? I was once inspired by a circle of tin nailed half way up a wall. It covered a hole, and had been painted over man...