A casual conversation

I was waiting at a tram stop when a woman in I'd say in her seventies engaged me in conversation. I immediately thought about what happens to prostitutes when they become old. 

"I just bought my fags in this shop", pointing a bit south. "I can get cheaper but the bloke in this shop smokes. I can smell it. I like to buy my cigarettes from someone who smokes". Yup, someone who sells killer products you would like to think also consumes killer products. I get where the woman was coming from.

She made me think. Do people in certain shops partake of the products they sell? Do liquor outlets staff drink? Are there meat butchers who are vegetarians? Do vegetarians serve meat dishes in cafes?

We once lunched with our Friend in Japan at a vegetarian restaurant here in Melbourne, at the St Kilda Sea Baths. I asked staff if the restaurant only employed vegetarians and he said no. He added they were unreliable and not great workers. My words, they need meat to become better workers. But our Friend in Japan is a vego, and so is another friend, a former blogger That's so Pants and they are good workers at whatever they turn to.

Phyliss and his friend are busy cooking up a storm in the kitchen as I type at 10pm. The aromas are enticing but Phyliss had already made me a spicy butter chicken and nan earlier. 

I can't remember which blogger said it, but yes, Phyllis is good blog fodder. 

It must be Friday

Phyllis brought home Bahn Mi for me for tonight's dinner. He heated it in the oven and it was delicious. I don't do things at night, except for watching tv and sitting here in my computer chair but Phyllis is running around with the vacuum cleaner, changing and is washing his bedding, sorting out his bathroom cupboards and making lots of banging noises in his bedroom. Ah, the energy of the young!

I subscribe to a Facebook group called Gay Family Values. It is mostly posts of photos of gay couples who have been together for a long time, and at times with their children. This photo just did not seem right to me. At the extremes of possibilities it could be a Sikh couple in England, all dressed up for the photo shoot. But no, apparently it is A/I generated. I am not sure I am liking A/I too much. 

I hope this is not A/I generated. Three D things like this do my head in. 

Please, don't use A/I to write your blog posts, unless you mention it. I need to know it is really you. 

The Age Pension

I contacted the company Ray used that for quite a bit of money will take away all the paperwork pain of applying for the old age pension in October when I turn 67. 

Details were provided to the company over the phone with a document to sign and return, and a couple of other matters. 

It was easy, except I needed a Centrelink CRN, a Customer Relationship Number? I know nothing of this. I haven't had any Social Security contact since 1979 when for a couple of months, I received dole money. 

It didn't take too long for the call to Centrelink, our government social services department, to answer but I was not visible on the system. For the hour and a half I was on hold, with the pleasant lady checking in every five minutes to reassure me I was in her queue to identify me, eventually, it happened and I had my brand new CRN. 

As I was on hold I dusted most of the lounge room.

The good news is I will receive a part age pension and best of all, the concession card, giving me considerable reductions for so many things. Medications will all drop to about $6 per month, instead of the the maximum of $30 I now pay. Most of my medications are around $10 but one does cost $30. The savings by having the card are huge. 

I was feeling financially insecure but now, I feel a whole lot better now I know I can get the concession card. 

"Phyliss, why are you washing that crockery by hand?"

"I have the time Andrew and it will save you money by not using the dishwasher so often."

"Phyllis, the dishwasher has to operate every second or third day. Your crockery can go in the dishwasher. There is plenty of crockery in the cupboards. The constantly running hot water sink tap as you hand wash dishes costs me money". Lordy, I've experienced this before with an Indian friend who would not use a dishwasher. I feel dishes are cleaner if they have been washed in a dishwasher, rather than hand washed in a sink and then dried with a tea towel, or in the case of Phyliss, paper towel. My goodness, how he can go through paper towel and tissues. Neither cost much, so no real problem.   

The famous

McEwans was a dominant hardware store in greater Melbourne. The late partner of my Port Melbourne friend was an heir to the empire, hence said friend is also quite wealthy. 

McEwans had a multi level hardware store in the city, in Bourke Street, just a little west of Elizabeth Street. 

At its street front, it had a walk of fame, that is hand prints of celebrities. At the Melbourne Town Hall City  Gallery, there was an exhibition of the pavers where famous people planted their hands or feet in wet concrete. Some have deteriorated but I am so glad the pavers have been kept.

Cyd Charris and Tony Martin. Surely not the local comedian Tony Martin. Perhaps Kirk could enlighten me on another Tony Martin. 

Sid James. 

Harry Seacombe.

Michael Cole.

Sarah Vaugne.

Jose Feliciano.  

Terry Thomas. 

Derek Nimmo.

John Inman. 

Robyn Annear, I simply adore. As well as curating the exhibition, perhaps not too hard, she is an author, who has written several historical books about Melbourne, her best known, A City Lost and Found, featuring the destruction of many famous Melbourne buildings. Also, the great podcasts, "Nothing on TV". 

A niggly old man

YP indicated a strong opinion that The Boarder needs a proper name, so if you refer back to Sunday Selections, you may understand why I will call him Phyllis. 

Phyllis surprised me on Sunday morning when he said he was going to church and would it be ok if he brought a couple of friends back for a meal. What? Church? What me cooking a Sunday roast pork? 

Of course he did the cooking and I bet he attends St Francis' church in the city. His two female friends were polite and respectful. They all spoke the same Tamil language as Phyllis does. Sometimes they would speak between each other in English. One of his friend's name was the capital city name of Peru, easy to remember. The other friend, not so easy. 

Generally, it is working well having Pyllis here but there are a few things that annoy me, and I will probably speak up about them at some point. They are so trivial, but they are things I just keep noticing. Ray and I were very set in our ways at home and we verbally or silently agreed on things after being together for 45 years. 

Here is the list:

I am happy with doors open, doors closed and doors ajar. I am not happy with doors half open/closed. 

The bathroom for Phyliss is also my laundry. Why is there always water all over the floor after he showers and even shaves with an electric shaver?

Phyliss came with kitchen stuffs. A plate or two, a bowl, couple of cheap dessert spoons. Some pots and pans, a timber cutting board, a couple of chopsticks and a knife or two. I have a perfectly good set of cutlery and crockery, without hand painted periwinkles. I don't want these extras in my drawers and cupboards. There is no need for them. I can't imagine that there aren't enough frying pans for all needs in my cupboards. I am not an unreasonable person. If there is something he has that I don't, of course he can add it to the cupboards. His rice cooker being one example. 

The door issues I will address by adjusting the doors once he is out. He will notice the doors. 

The wet bathroom floor is an Asian/Indian thing. No prob. It is his bathroom and I just need to access the washing machine/dryer and the laundry cupboard. 

The crockery/cutlery/pots and pans matter, I will discuss with him and make him see common sense. Whatever extras he has that are already here, can be stored in a cupboard. 

After mentioning to Phyliss that in his first ten nights here, his friend had stayed here for seven nights, his friend disappeared but returned last Friday. I invited his friend to stay the night in my bed. I thought by inviting him, I was in control. He did stay and went on his own merry way the next day, with a shake of the hands and 'see you next week', whatever that entails. A one night stay each week is ok with me. It is odd. They sleep in the same bed and quarrel like an old married couple, at the ages of 21. 

So, no regrets, all good, and stops me thinking so much about my sadness at times. 

Monday Mural

Along with Sami and others, I am joining Sami for Monday Murals.

As we see an increasing number of people on the streets, imagine 2030 after governments have declared no one will need to sleep on the streets and we will ensure they don't. During our Covid lockdowns, the streets were cleared and street sleepers were found accommodation.

Sunday Selections

I am participating in Sunday Selections along with Elephant's Child, River, and others. It is something a bit different this Sunday. There was an exhibition at the Victorian (gay) Pride Centre in St Kilda. 

Not so long ago someone in a blog comment mentioned something about Australia's indigenous people and I say nothing about them. My only connection is a friend of my father's was married to an Aboriginal woman. She slept one night at our farmhouse, on the floor. I think she was a full-blood person and very shy and quiet, at least among all the white people. No matter what Mother would say about 'those people', which could be any race, colour or creed, she would never be unkind personally and I am sure she made the woman welcome. 

Aside from that woman, I've had no real contact with Aboriginal people, although there was one cafe we used to visit where there was a worker who I thought might have been Aboriginal, but I am not certain. 

These photos feature Aboriginal people who are gay or have a strong connection to the so-called gay community. They all work as professionals or as volunteers for the GLBTI communities. I didn't take photos of all of their names or details.

Colin Ross.

I believe he, Joseph Mayers, is the photographer.