Cablog

More gloating & no respect

It feels like gloating, to go on and on, about how beautiful Sydney is in summer. Especially through the week when most folk work. The parks and beaches are relatively deserted. This is my hard-earned payoff for working weekends. Time off through the week which allows me to enjoy our glorious weather. If I’m not bushwalking, I’m on a pushbike, recovering lost condition, from too many nights of sedentary cab driving, and blogging.

Once a fortnight, I take an old mate to see a specialist in Mosman. This gives me an hour to kill around the Harbour, on the north shore. Yesterday evening I returned, this time choosing Balmoral Beach to visit. Located on Middle Harbour and facing east through the Heads, Balmoral is one of the most exclusive neighbourhoods in town. Traditionally an old-money enclave, it has in recent times, been overtaken by a brash, sexy Sydney.

CALL SECURITY !!

The Australian Labor Party annual Conference is in town. CALL SECURITY !!

Must remember to brush-up on my localities, and most direct routes. Don't want to inflame any party hacks, with a late-night, circuitous tour of the aspirational Sydney environs. Predicted routes are :

-- Convention Centre to Chew 'n Spew, Chinatown.
-- Chinatown to Kings Cross watering holes
-- Late nite watering holes to Surrey Hills brothels
-- Surrey Hills brothels to anywhere

Also, a note to myself - be on the lookout for :

-- any male wearing a Che beret
-- any male wearing a Mao skull cap
-- any male wearing a Pommy miners cap
-- any big boofy blokes in advanced stages of pregnancy
-- any male wearing a purple shirt, or any hint of male-feminist garb, like a trilby
-- any shemale comrade who jumps in the front, plonks her arm out the window and barks, 'Marrickville mate !' Do not use the familiar, 'no worries, pet !'
-- any high ranking Federal MP living in south-west Sydney, who refuses to nominate prefered route, insisting, 'The quickest way, mate !' Drive to nearest police station.

Bloody slack

Bloody slack, that's what I am. No offense folks, just taking one thing at a time with my new site, namely content. Have been intending to get into typelists and nominate other bloggers I read. Time to get out and about a bit, acknowledge a few kindred souls, I have been visiting. This list can now be found in the sidebar under BLOG ROLL. Original eh ? Actually it's a working title, yet useless me can't.....oh, forget it. I'd like to add a Sydney Blogs list also.

Still intend do a full re-design, in time, though I am happy enough with the recent banner. I loved the images of the Bridge and Darling Harbour, and thought they'd sit well with a Sydneycentric blog. Though I'm first to acknowledge, window-dressing means nothing without decent content.

Has anyone got any suggestions for search engine registration ? I had intended to register with search engines, etc., but now I find a charge involved. Already, I receive a half-dozen hits per day from search engines, (sometimes top of the list or, usually on the front page) so i think, do I need it ? What with all the comment spam and such.

Also, if you want to syndicate this site then the whole post is now available, rather than a short excerpt. Apparently, readers and aggregators prefer it that way. Otherwise, if any readers are having technical problems with any aspect of the site, or have suggestions for improvements, please let me know.

Girls night out

There were a few wheelchairs around town over the long weekend. Mainly women. In fact, did I see one being hassled, along with her companion, by a bouncer on Oxford Street ? I know it caused me to look twice, as I passed in traffic. No, surely not.....

Late Sunday night, I spotted two lookers rushing across York Street, laughing, excited. One wore a tight yellow singlet, accentuating her powerful, tanned shoulders. Sportsgirls in sportschairs. Lightweight, snap-lock wheels, fast and compact. As they drew abreast, I noticed on one girl, a massive burn scar the length of her bicep. A proud badge of courage. They both looked real cute. I wolf-whistled as they flashed by.

At Darling Harbour late at night, I picked up two sisters, a few years apart, the older one in a chair. The younger one, mature beyond her early twenties, was the boss. She had her sister and chair in the cab, in a jiffy. They were off to O’Malleys in the Cross, a notorious late-nite Irish pub. They were happy, excited, dressed-up and glamorous. The easy chat between them was so warm and sisterly, it gave me nostalgia.

From what I could gather, eavesdropping on their discreet conversation, was this : the older sister had recently pulled a bloke, and done a no-come-homer. This had caused their Mum, who they were very close to, some protective concern. They understood this, but still didn’t want Mum to worry, if older sis got lucky again and didn’t come home tonite. That was the plan anyway. So I decided to warn them, that the Irish will kill them with kindness. ‘Darling, I’ve gotta warn ya - there’s a lotta-drunken-Irishmen at O’Malleys’. ‘Yes, we know’, they laughed, ‘we know !’

They're out there

Passengers are a funny lot. They’ll tell me I’m the best driver they’ve ever had, yet forget to tip. Or, I’ll literally save their lives, in a near-miss, only to have them wait for $2 change. ‘Hello, mate ?! I - just - saved - your - life !’ ‘O, oh yeah, thanks - hey, don’t worry about the change - thanks again, phew, that was close’.

I guess it’s pure shock, usually mixed with alcohol, which gives people immediate post-trauma symptoms. One of which is forgetting to tip, or even pay ! Sometimes passengers get in, with post-trauma programmes already installed. And some of these programmes, seem to have my name on them....

My City of Siderney

Yesterday evening around 6 pm, I returned to the Sydney Harbour National Park I visited a few weeks back. It was this previous visit which had inspired my post, Pushy poofters. However, I am happy to report this time, the noticeable absence of sleazeballs, hanging around the carpark.

In the name of variety, I elected to go down to the water. One hundred metres from the car park, I find a signposted track to Obelisk Beach. Suddenly I realise where I am. This is one of two, or three, official Sydney nude beaches. Having heard about Obelisk, yet never visited, I thought bugger it, I’ll check it out.

Unlike a few weeks ago, the weather was quite cloudy, though warm and muggy. A steepish track accesses a small, clean, horseshoe beach, maybe 50 metres long. The beach faces south-east towards the eastern shore of the Harbour, including Lady Jane Beach(officially nude), Camp Cove, Watsons Bay, Vaucluse Bay and Nielson Park. One also has a view due east, through the Heads.

On the beach was a smattering of gay groups and couples, all male, some naked, some not so naked. They were just sitting around, on the sand or rocks, chatting, drinking, laughing, and generally doing the summer thing.

Hotel death watch

Last year, or the year before, I worked the annual Hotel Industry Awards night at the Darling Harbour Convention Centre. It looked like any other A-list, star-studded piss-up, very glamorous. Until the punters got in the cab and revealed their rough diamonds,

'Aw geez - it was a top night driver, really t'rific !', raved one glitzed-up, ex-barmaid.

From memory, my best fare was Mr. and Mrs. M. who live uptown, on Circular Quay. As I understand it, they may be the biggest pub owners in New South Wales. Huge. What struck me most about them, was what decent, old-style Aussies they came across as. Indeed, we had a lovely chat about whatever, reminding me of being in the bush again, and the utterly decent people one meets there.

The joke of the Hotel Industry Awards, was of the top prizes being taken out by the Coogee Bay Hotel, again. Ha fucking ha ! - one of the only pubs I won't work ! Now that's really saying something. I would rather cart junkies outta Cabramatta, than drunks outta the Coogee Bay....

Tough trip thru paradise

There was a lot of anger in the cab last night, over the senseless death of cricketer, David Hookes. Seems to be a feeling that, while we all live in paradise, Australia has some unnecessarily tough cities to survive.

It is obvious there is a problem with hotels' risk management policies, if they exist. I put this to a young corporate lawyer for the hotels, sometime last year. While she insisted that such issues were taken very seriously in the industry, her words rang hollow. Every shift, I see the results of industry self-regulation, and the laughable Responsible Serving of Alcohol policy. It's violent, ugly and messy. How can a hotel serve patrons to the point of total impairment, then claim no liability once they’re off the premises ?

Once on the street - given the patron has avoided bored, bouncer-rage at the front door - he then has to get home somehow. At best, he can be picked up by myself and gently deposited home or, at worst, he can be allowed to wander off, down the middle of the road. Scratch one patron. You'd think pub owners would reciprocate some basic loyality to their patrons, rather than hide behind their unethical legal advisors and PR hacks.

Every death around a hotel, now almost weekly it seems, is senseless of course. Maybe it’s not until we identify, en-mass with a famous fatality, that something real can be done about it. Hopefully, David Hookes death was not in vain. The honest and likeable larrikin, deserves a better legacy.

Turnbull dogs it - cabbies cheer

Notorious cabbie oppressor, Mayoress Lucy Turnbull, has finally fallen on her sword. After sustaining a week of relentless media pressure, following my suggestion for a boycott of her neighbourhood, NCO Turnbull saw the writing on the wall. Now that's Cabbie-Power !

UPDATE : The Sydney City Council has released figures showing it raked in $13.9m last year in fines. What, are their officers on performance bonuses or something ? Wonder what percentage of those fined were hapless cabbies ? Hmmm. I can feel a Freedom of Information request coming on. Stand by......

Mayoress Turnbull - cabbie oppressor

Life is sometimes a bitch, unfortunately delivered by bitches. Early this morning I was booked - twice, for the possible loss of two nights wages. That’s 20 odd hours in the saddle, at an average 25kph, that must be recovered.

I blame Mayoress Turnbull for her squadrons of uniformed parking bitches targeting cabbies trying to make a living. In countless news stories she comes across as having a conscience, socially aware even. Is she human enough to champion the cause of those who work in her domain and experience discrimination, like cabbies ?

Answer this Turnbull; Why is it that the cops can drive past all night long, and generally leave us alone, as long as we're positioned safely ? If you are going to institute a zero-tolerance policy, sneakily conducted in the dead of night, then shouldn't you at least have the decency to publicly announce such a policy ? Is your repressive tactics due to the looming Council elections somehow, and/or the fact cabbies traditionally have no voice ?

How about a taxi boycott of your Point Piper, the wealthiest residential locality in Australia ? Sure, it would be a cheap shot, but what's your immoral, revenue-ripping of cabbies all about ?

How does she do it.....?