Showing posts with label tributes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tributes. Show all posts

Friday, January 29, 2010

The Death Of Holden Caulfield







Reclusive author JD Salinger, who has died aged 91, was a giant of American literature whose seminal novel, The Catcher in the Rye, lent a voice to the angst and despair felt by generations of rebellious adolescents.




One of the most admired and influential US writers following the success of his 1951 novel and its laconic anti-hero, Holden Caulfield, Salinger published nothing after 1965 and had not been interviewed since 1980.


The author died on Wednesday at his home in New Hampshire, the Harold Ober Associates agency said on Thursday. The cause of death was not announced.


Mystery surrounded much of the last five decades of his life. After being overwhelmed by his new fame, Salinger withdrew from public life, retreating to his house perched on a tree-blanketed hill in the small town of Cornish, New Hampshire.


Memoirs written by his daughter and a former lover affirmed that Salinger still wrote, but there has been no sign of any new book despite the entreaties of his legions of fans.


Indeed in a rare 1980 interview with the Boston Sunday Globe in 1980, Salinger said: "I love to write, and I assure you I write regularly. But I write for myself and I want to be left absolutely alone to do it."


News in 1997 that his last published work, Hapworth 16: 1924, which appeared in The New Yorker magazine, was about to be reissued in hard print sparked excitement in the literary world. But the publication date was frequently postponed, with no reason given.


Jerome David Salinger was born on New Year's Day 1919 in Manhattan, New York, the son of an Irish mother and Jewish father with Polish roots.


As a teenager he began writing stories. In 1940, his debut story, The Young Ones, about several aimless youths was published in Story magazine.


Then came America's entry into the war, and the young Salinger was drafted in 1942. He took part in the D-Day stormings of the Normandy beaches, and his wartime experiences are said to have marked him for life.


He married a German woman after the war, but the marriage fell apart after just a few months, and Salinger renewed his writings with a passion.


In 1948 he published the short story, A Perfect Day for Bananafish, in The New Yorker, bringing him acclaim and introducing the Glass family and its seven rambunctious children Seymour Buddy, Boo Boo, Walt, Waker, Zooey, and Franny, who were to populate several of his short stories.
But it was The Catcher in the Rye, published three years later, that was to seal his reputation. The book was an instant success, and even today remains recommended reading at many high schools, selling about 250,000 copies a year.




Sixteen-year-old Holden Caulfield's adventures and musings as he makes his way home after being kicked out of school touched a raw nerve and have fascinated generations of disaffected youngsters.


Yet the novel was also sharply criticised for its liberal use of swear words and open references to sex, and was banned in some countries.


Always a private person, Salinger found his new fame oppressive, and in 1953 he moved to sleepy Cornish, in the hope of staying out of the limelight.


Other collections of short stories or novellas followed, such as Franny and Zooey, until his last published work, Hapworth 16: 1924, appeared in The New Yorker magazine in 1965.


"There is a marvelous peace in not publishing. It's peaceful," Salinger said in 1974, when he broke more than 20 years of silence in a phone interview with The New York Times.


"Publishing is a terrible invasion of my privacy. I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure."


In 1955 he married a young student, Claire Douglas, and they had two children, Margaret and Matt. In Margaret's memoirs, The Dream Catcher, she reflects on an often painful childhood, describing her father as an autocratic man who kept her mother as a "virtual prisoner".


They divorced in 1967, and in 1972 Salinger began a year-long relationship with 18-year-old Joyce Maynard, with whom he had been exchanging letters.


In a sign of the lingering interest in Salinger, some letters he wrote to Maynard sold for more than $US150,000 at auction in 1999.


Salinger remained to the end of his life in his Cornish home, and had been married to Collen O'Neill since the 1980s. He fiercely guarded his privacy, even turning to the courts to stop publication of his letters. He refused all offers to sell the screen rights to Catcher.


One of his final moves came in July last year when a US judge suspended the publication of an unauthorised sequel to Catcher in the Rye by Swedish author Fredrik Colting.


"There's no more to Holden Caulfield. Read the book again. It's all there. Holden Caulfield is only a frozen moment in time," he told The Boston Globe.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Four and Out

Okay, you all must think I've become obsessed with this Tote business and you be right. I plan to make this my last post on the subject- at least for this week.  I'm hoping my next Tote post will be entitled 'SAVED!!!'

Myf Warhurst had this to say in today's Age and it sums up very well -along with Marieke Hardy's article-the feeling of the Tote's closure.

It shows that the feeling of great venues closing are more than just losing a pub, it's losing much,much more.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

The Tote-Part Three

I can't believe how depressed I am about the Tote. It's got me thinking about my life. Is it a transistion period that life and the universe is forcing me to live an old lady existence? Or just that life as I know (knew) it is being taken over by greedy,self serving bastards who gentrify the areas we love with rampant conservatism?

In case you may have missed it, the 7.30 Report on ABC aired a story on the Tote last night.  Good on you Channel 2.

To John Brumby and Co- go fuck yourselves. You go on about alcohol and violence.. your laws perpetuate it because it's profitable. To quote the late,great Bill Hicks -suckers of Satan's cock, each and every one of you...

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

More Tote

I've been google-ing stories about the Tote and found a beautifully written piece by Marieke Hardy entitled 'The Slow Death of Sticky Carpet'.

Comedian Jimeoin once joked that being in the delivery room and watching, agog, as his wife gave birth to their first child, was 'like seeing my favourite pub burned to the ground.' It's the funniest thing he's ever said and therefore quite possibly plagiarised but he's certainly captured the horror of one thing at least - how deeply one feels the loss of a treasured watering hole.


More often than not these days local pubs are limping to their deaths via a series of turgid back 'n' forths in windowless government meeting rooms as opposed to exploding into flames, though the sentiment remains. Our locals define a neighbourhood, steeped as they are in liquor and lingo. When they've also played an important role in our musical history it only makes the bereavement more devastating.


And yet another one has left us, another solid little perfect corner shop of splintered music and barmaids with spectacular bosoms and dangerous sneers.

The glorious Tote hotel in Collingwood, Victoria has closed its doors for the last time, with beleaguered nominee Bruce Milne bowing out with shrugs and sighs. This time it's not even some po-faced inner city resident shaking a fist from their well-manicured balcony and complaining about the noise (move out of the f*cking city then, you twit) that has crippled the place, but a government helpless to control that pulsating, seething morass of testosterone Australian capital cities fondly refer to as 'Saturday night'.

As ruddy men in Ed Hardy t-shirts while away languid weekend evenings in the CBD merrily shattering pint glasses into each others' faces, those in charge are responding the only way they know how: by penalising live music venues whose crowds consist mostly of sticky-limbed music nerds and one local drooling barfly who knows all the words to Dylan's 'Hurricane'.

It's a quick fix, and an idiotic one, like trying to reign in Japanese whalers by marching down to St. Kilda wharf and punching a fisherman in the face. I do hope Victorian Premier John Brumby feels as though justice has been served at last with such a particularly butch and vacuous solution. Perhaps he could celebrate with a mince tart and a nice cold glass of Ribena, the chump.

The Tote hotel was never the prettiest of venues - in fact for the most part it was a stinking, sweaty bitch mistress, luring blinking punters in off Johnston Street with the promise of grubby sex in the toilets and twelve-minute guitar solos, and propelling them back out into the night with bleeding ear drums and the sort of blossoming liver problems once enjoyed by a young and wild-eyed Oliver Reed.

I loved it, helplessly, and was inextricably linked to the place through myriad channels - deep-set family connections, an abode I once resided in three doors down where late at night you could hear the speed metal bands rehearsing, and a long and involved music-obsessed adolescence spent variously staring up at the stage or dodging a lead singer's erratic strands of saliva.

I fell in love while the jukebox played Television's 'Marquee Moon', staggered around the speaker stack wearing a moth-eaten showgirl outfit, and watched the future husband of my best friend projectile vomit in front of an oddly impressed crowd.

Like anywhere that serves as a regular meeting place in one's early twenties it was the joint where we all got happily pissed and manhandled each other on the sticky carpet. And now it has been dragged to its death by tepid bureaucracy and a few rather dull scuffles over money. Nobody ever pulled out knives at the Tote, nobody pawed intrusively at passing women - AFL players weren't usually allowed in, anyway.

There will be recriminations on both sides of course, and finger pointing, and lengthy, smarmy form letters from local MP's who are 'deeply sorry' and 'aware of disappointment' and 'relaying my views, your concerns, and the concerns of the many others who have written to me today, to my colleague Tony Robinson MP, Minister for Consumer Affairs'.

In the end, does it do any good? Young men will continue to be knocked down to their deaths on cigarette-stained footpaths outside lairy nightclubs and one by one the damp, dark, unassuming live music venues where the most violent acts play out onstage between consenting adults will be quietly packed away and left behind. And eventually, state governments will no longer be able to swing their dicks around about which city has the most thriving arts scene, because there will no longer be any.

I'll miss the front bar of the Tote. The gaffa-taped barstools and the languid gazes across the pool table and that revolting, damp sensation of sodden elbows when ordering a round.

I'll miss sitting in my front window and watching the parade of beery rock 'n' roll types peacefully lurching down Wellington street on their way home.

But most of all I'll miss the chapter of time that the Tote hotel will forever possess within its walls - the piss, the pain, the boners, the lewd and bawdy celebration of a wild, musical youth.


And in years to come I suspect I will awaken from many a deep sleep with strands of those memories slipping through my fingers like the wind.

Friday, January 15, 2010

The End Of An Era



I guess you've all heard the sad news that The Tote in Collingwood is closing this weekend. It's dodged a few bullets of late but this time, nothing can save it. Bruce Milne,owner of the Tote simply can't afford the money it's going to take to pay for the license and going back and forth to VCAT is not an option for him.

Some can argue that it's a stinky,ramshakle,sticky carpet pub and they would be right. The fact is, we need that stinky,ramshakle sticky carpet pub because it's so much more to people than just bricks and mortar. To many of us, it was a musical sanctuary where like minded people joined together to hear the same bands and drink a few beers. For those in bands, many of them got their start there. It was more than a pub, it was part of the community there. I can honestly say in all my years of going there, I have never seen a fight or even a shouting match. People of all walks of life went there. Even children and babies went there with their parents for the famous Wu B Que and various other barbeques held in the truly authentic beer garden. There was the tiki element of The Cobra Bar upstairs, where bands squeezed into that tiny alcove and hammered out a set despite the atrocious acoustics.

When those doors close, a million memories will be stored there. For me, it was the early nineties supporting bands like The Underground Lovers,The Fauves,The Glory Box,Autohaze,Rob Clarkson,Tlot Tlot and their ilk. Loading up the jukebox with coins and programming all our favorites songs - it was truly the best jukebox in Melbourne. Walking into the place and crawling out after too much to drink. Sitting on the toilet upstairs to find yourself shaking because of a death metal band playing downstairs.  Being with friends and connecting with the music and the moonshine.

The Tote closing is not just closing a venue. It's so much more. The funeral is this weekend. I'll be heading down for a few drinks to bid the old girl farewell.

Vale Tote. You'll be missed.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Vale Roland S Howard



Roland S Howard, the Australian guitarist behind the Birthday Party, Crime and the City Solution, and These Immortal Souls — died early this morning (December 30) in a Melbourne hospital after losing a battle with liver cancer. He was 50.

According to reports, Howard had been ill for quite some time and had been awaiting a much-needed liver transplant. He had been forced to cancel several shows recently due to his illness, including one yesterday in Melbourne supporting the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Howard began his career in the late ’70s with the band Young Charlatans and later the Aussie punk outfit Boys Next Door, a group that would eventually morph into the Birthday Party. With Nick Cave serving as the band’s front-man, the Birthday Party sparked an infamous career in the 1980s, filled with violence — both on and off the stage — as well as Howard’s unique combo of feedback-laden blues riffs and dissonant punk noise.

When the Birthday Party broke up in 1983, Howard went on to play in such groups as Crime and the City Solution and These Immortal Souls. He also collaborated with the likes of Lydia Lunch, Nikki Sudden, Einstürzende Neubauten and Henry Rollins, as well as lent his talents to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Along with music, Howard appeared in several feature-length films, such as Wim Wenders’ 1987 movie Wings of Desire, 1990’s In Too Deep and the 2002 vampire film The Queen of the Damned.

Howard’s most recent recording was the solo album Pop Crimes, which was released in October.

Rest In Peace Roland. You've left a musical legacy you can be proud of. Shivers will always be one of my favorite songs that you wrote.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Girl,Interupted


I just feel like saying a few words on the passing of Brittany Murphy. Not that I was a huge fan or anything but she wasn't a bad little actress. Her role as Daisy Randone in the film Girl,Interupted was well played as the very disturbed girl with the eating /self harm disorder who is sexually abused by her father. The scene where she eventually ends it all is quite powerful. I also didn't mind her in the film 'Little Black Book' as the girl who comforts herself by singing Carly Simon songs.

Vale Brittany. I guess it was just your time.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Vale Richo


I arrived at the train station this morning and saw the head line on the Herald Scum 'RICHO RETIRES' and I immediatly said 'NOOOOOOO!!! It can't be!!!" I alerted Nikki in disbelief.
Someone left The Age sports page on the train which confirmed that he has indeed retired.
I could do my research and go on about stats etc etc but I won't. I will miss going to the footy and seeing him out there. I don't care who you follow in footy- everyone loves him. I will miss him getting shirty when he misses a set shot, I will miss his goofy face when he doesn't. I will miss the way he runs and runs and runs. I'll miss those big hands taking a grab.
All the best you big,beautiful man. Richmond will never be the same without you.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

One Cold Vibe Won't Stop This Here Boogie



..
This is my friend, Graeme 'Bags' Stables. I met him last year at 'Merry Twistmas' which is our annual go go Christmas break up party. He and my friend,Vicki met there too and fell in love.
Bags has just had a bad turn of events as like me, went in for surgery to repair something and it's taken a turn for the worse. Thankfully, the lovely people at St Vincent's hospital appear to be sorting it out for him.
Get well soon Bags so we can see you behind the decks and on the dance floor where you belong.
As I discovered, it's a set back but not the end of the world. Just one of those curve balls that get thrown at you in life but it makes you realise that there is much to look forward to and best of all, how much you are truly loved.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Ill Communication



Just got the news that my favourite Beastie Boy, Adam Yauch-MCA- has cancer of the salivary gland.
First read it in the Age but my friend, Marlene sent me a link from undercover.com.au- here's the article;
Adam Yauch From Beastie Boys Diagnosed With Cancer by Paul Cashmere - July 21.
Adam Yauch from Beastie Boys fame has announced that he is suffering from a cancer. Yaunch made the announcement via a YouTube video, apologising to fans for having to cancel the upcoming Beastie Boys tour and postpone the release of the new album.
From his studio in New York, Adam said, “Unfortunately we are going to have to cancel a bunch of our shows and push back our record release because recently, about two months ago I started feeling this little lump in my throat like you would feel if you have swollen glands. I didn’t think it was anything but just recently when we were over in Europe I started to think I should talk to my doctor. So I called my doctor, this was about two weeks ago and he sent me to a specialist and they did tests and I have a form of cancer. It is in a gland called the parotid gland and it is also in a lymph node right in that area. So I am going to have to have surgery, probably next week and then after that have some radiation done”.
He says there is an upside to the news. It is treatable. “The good news is that they did scans in my whole body and it is localised in this one area and it is not is a place that effects my voice. It is a little bit of a setback, it is a pain in the ass, but it is treatable and in most cases they are able to get rid of it,” he said.
Despite the bad personal news, Yauch made an apologetic statement to fans for not being able to tour. “I apologise to anybody who has made plans and who decided to come to these shows. I apologise for anyone who has put themselves out with their schedules,” he said.

All the best Adam. You have the tools of buddhism to get you through mentally and a legion of long time Beastie Boys fans who wish you nothing but the best of health and happiness.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Broooooooooce!

Snaps to Bruce Springsteen, who at the latest Glastonbury Festival,performed a cover of Joe Strummer's song 'Coma Girl' and dedicated it to Joe and his love of music festivals. Besitos mucho Brucie and Joe.. I will love you forever. Here are the lyrics in case you're not familiar with the song; I was crawling through a festival way out west i was thinking about love and the acid test but first i got real dizzy with a real rockin' gang then i saw the coma girl, and the excitement gang and the rain came in from the wide blue yonder through all the stages, i wandered oh coma girl, and the excitment gang mona lisa, on a motorcylce gang coma girl, coma girl The coma girl was beating with the oil drum gang some fast food fanatic was burning down a burger van somebody was waling off their head oh! Nobody was rippin the teen scene dead and the rain, came in from the wide blue yonder i thought you and me might wander... oh coma girl, and the excitement gang mona lisa, on a motorcycle gang coma girl, coma girl, on a motorcycle gang And then the nineteenth hour was falling upon desolation row some outlaw band, had the last drop on the go lets siphon up some gas!! lets get this show on the road!! said the coma girl, to the excitement gang Into action , everybody sprang and the oil drums were beating out, doolang, doolang coma girl and the excitment gang mona lisa on a motorcycle gang

"Have You Seen My Pussy?".. Farewell Mrs Slocombe..

Logged in to The Age when I got into work this morning - as you do- and noticed the latest in the line of deaths of famous people. Mollie Sugden, who is known mainly for her role as the fabulous Betty Slocombe in 'Are You Being Served'has died at the age of 86 after a long illness. I could copy and paste the whole article here but I won't. Vale Mollie-thanks for the memories. You were a bloody legend.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Blue Faced Jarvis

I was just trawling through the CNN website, trying to find out if the rumour that Jeff Goldblum along with Jacko and Farrah has bought the proverbial farm is true and tripped over the above video. It's Oxfam's latest campaign to raise awareness for climate change. It's a bloody ripper and a great message. Any excuse to talk about Jarvis really. I love him. BTW- Jeff Goldblum is not dead. Neither is Harrison Ford. Jacko and Farrah- true. Is is wrong that I'm not the least bit sad that MJ is dead? As far as I'm concerned, he died after he made 'Thriller'. Vale Farrah. Here's your iconic 'swimsuit pic' from the 70's in memoriam..