Thursday, May 27, 2010
I've been reading a couple of blogs written by Americans who had moved to Australia. It's been strange for me to see them write about their hosts as if they were normal people, considering my personal experience with the Down Unders. I've never told them about my Australian problem, because I'm a lover, not a fighter. But here it is now. My Australian story.
Fifteen years ago, I had been living in London, playing in a band that was going to rule the world. But just for a short time. We knew that very soon, all of us were going to have our names etched in rock encyclopedias. Then we were going to disappear. Some of us were going to live past the ancient age of 30, but even then, we'd live off royalties in secluded farm houses in Wales, because society sucked and nothing made sense and to be happy in a world gone bad meant to be blissfully unaware.
Many of the blissfully ignorant fools who were in London to have FUN had a particular name and accent. Their London wasn't about Keith Moon and David Bowie and Nick Drake and Waterloo Sunsets and blood sweat and despair. Their London was a good place to get drunk and bang Czech au pairs.
So reading Veronica Foale's blog, called... Let's see... Oh, Veronica Foale... it's great to realize I've been wrong about the country all these years. There ARE real people in Australia. There are people who feel pain and write about their internal conflicts. There are people who question their priorities as they take note of what's important in their lives, never giving out the simple, acceptable answers. There are people who are not afraid of their shadows. There are self-aware people who try to find their places in the world and online.
And if there's one Australian woman with a burning desire to find (and lead us toward) THE TRUTH by bravely digging into her own personal truth, then the whole country is redeemed. Congratulations, Australia! You're off my shit list (even if your Australian savior is from Tasmania and not from the main land. You get a pass. Now get out of my face before I change my mind).
Now, I didn't read all the way to the beginning of the blog. I only read the latest five pages, which frankly were enough for me to realize that despite that teeth-crunchingly annoying Nuffnang ad on the top right, I fucking love Veronica.
(Now, I've had issues other than that redundant ad. Veronica writes another blog, which is her main one. My guess is that she felt constrained in her other blog and decided to start this one to break free and be able to return to the basics of honest writing. Fair enough. But maybe Veronica should make up her mind exactly what this blog is, because right now, writing three times a month, it is still not clear if this blog is anything more than an experiment in honest writing, and whether she is committed to the blog as much as she's committed to her other one, the real one. Or maybe this one is the real one? In any case, I've been torn between four stars and an IFLY button, because how can I give her an IFLY if she's not committed? But maybe this review will help her commit to the blog, and maybe the IFLY will make her doubts go away. And really, this blog was written so well, that only an IFLY made any sense.)