I reflected on our lack of identity over the weekend. Who are we Australians? I read a few news articles which were anxious to define us. I think “big media” needs to catagorise us though, purely to sell ad-space. It probably riles them a bit that we defy definition.
Saturday consisted of cleaning the backyard for a BBQ, riding my new scooter down to the shops, cooking some meat, then going to the local civic centre to watch the traditional fireworks. They were also traditionally late. Whilst waiting in the service road across the way, we copped some passive smoke from a pregnant mother. Hubby was watching their two boys (who didn’t seem to too stunted). “Come here Jordan”, he yelled. I was reminded of this old, entertaining, despot’s quip about us being the “white trash of Asia”. Continue reading ‘My Australia Day Weekend’