Elvis Has Left the Thunderdome

Que squealing tyres....

Elvis has left the Thunderdome

Hmmmm, as the dust settles and the fog clears from Melbourne Cup, “the (horse) Race that stops the Nation” across our home in Australia and winter gains it’s icy hold upon the souls of our North American friends and family you're probably being driven towards distraction.  Perhaps you’re even thing thinking "when was the last time I read anything new from the Antipodal Updates?”  Or “what’s Darren Hanlon doing?”  Yeah, ok, maybe not the former, but perhaps the latter question.  I’m happy to advise that Darren Hanlon, the namesake behind another of my blogs, is currently running an Aussie tour and finalizing a new album.  Good days indeed.  But what of us, you may wonder? 

As far as updates go, well things haven’t been moving along quite so well.  What was it?  Something about socialism, perhaps we’ve succumbed to the red menace?  Have we become habituated here in sunny Queensland? 

What was the last story you heard, something about a great Canadian party perhaps?   It could have been Riverfire beside Dirtbag Greg or maybe one of the New Years parties.  Maybe it was Canada Day, but when was that?  There seemed to have been one party that was about some sort of just cause.  It wasn't Australia Day because they didn't manage to get the date down correctly.  F'ing Canadians.  At any rate it was back before Lance Armstrong became just something else that came out of  Dr. Frankenstein’s lab.  Or at least officially.

Regardless of how your inner monologue wends it's way, here’s the answer, or at least a clue to an answer by way a note that went out to our local friends:

1 December 2012, 4pm 

That's the Last Great Canadian Party.

Now, before some West Ender corrects me and suggests that this is merely the next or the latest Great Canadian Party, let me assure you that this is in fact the Last Great Canadian Party.  So if you've counted on "getting to the next one" or "maybe you'll drop by later" take your excuse list and put it in the bin.  This is it.  This is the last.  

Why do you ask?  Well, because of a few reasons.  One, the owners of our house have elected to sell, so we're being cleared out one way or other and two, Nicole's time with Linc is over.  So we're moving on.  Lock, stock and smokin' barrel.  Details to be parsed out like, like I don't know something rare and valuable.  But by the time the party is in swing the details of our plans will be clear, or at least we'll have made up some cool sounding ones.

That's right, Elvis has left the Thunderdome.  But there's still the love, so we're having our last hurrah and hoping that you'll all drop by or at least give us an excuse we've never heard before.

Same type of part as before.  Open house format, but with a twist.  Nicole and I will not be cooking, serving or fetching drinks.  Because we're now all friends, and really I suppose because the bloom has come off the rose, we're going to set out the wine and beer, the food and spend our time visiting with friends that it will be more difficult to see again.  It's really an investment.  An investment in you.  But, yes, there will still be heaps of food, just without us serving.  

So, we're inviting everyone that's been through our parties before and hoping that you'll join us in a pre-Christmas, pre-departure party.

Please let us know how many will be attending so that we can make sure of our numbers for both adults, children and full aged adolescents.  

We've enjoyed our time with all of you, we love and will miss Brisbane, so please come by.

That was that.  Without much adieu, we hosted a party and let our friends know that our time in Brisbane was closing out.  And in fact, closing out rapidly.  The party was 1 December and our departure was 5 days later.  It was perfect, would could be loud, obnoxious and anti-social and there wouldn’t even be enough time to bring charges for the party before we were out of the jurisdiction!

But what of the Thunderdome?  I’m hear to tell you that it really does exist and that’s how matters are typically resolved in Australia.  Sure, there are courts (both of first instance, but also at appellate levels) but the Thunderdome is where it all happens.  Or at least that’s how it was planned to be. 

Brisbane Thunderdome, or so I'm told

As fate would have it, there was actually a Thunderdome constructed close to our first place.  Our first exposure to the Thunderdome concept of justice was shortly after we first arrived and were looking for a car.  Making a long story short, the deal fell through and the much malignly car salesman started berating me about honesty, virtue and how a deal had been struck.  For those of you that have seen Mel Gibson at the pinnacle of his excellence, you know the story: A challenge is issued and a fatal fight ensues.  All of this I suspected as a simple ruse to get me to return to the sale and set things right.  What our car dealer hadn’t anticipated, was that my legal training would assist me more than my (lack of) physical prowess ever would.  I successfully pointed out that while a deal had truly been struck, it was he, not I that had failed to process the deposit that we had agreed to.  Therefore, as no consideration had passed between the parties, there was no basis upon which to ground a fight.  Further, since there had been a verbal deal, part of which was to accept the deposit that he didn’t charge, it was he that broke the deal.  A chant of “Break the deal, face the wheel” arose among the gathering crowd and it took some quick work for the salesman to cite existing case law how “an agreement to agree” isn’t binding but merely starting point for commerce. 

Weeks later I ventured to the location of the Thunderdome to see what it was actually being used for.  It turns out that whatever the original plans were, it’s now a meeting place.  Every second Tuesday the local society of engineering chapter meets there to discuss who’s hotter, Princess Leia, Seven of Nine (from Star Trek Voyager) or Trinity.  It seemed a place every bit as dangerous and unwelcoming as the Thunderdome from the Mel Gibson movie. 

Sydney Board Meeting

All the same, our time in Brisbane, at least for now is over.  We’re not going out like a fat, depressed Elvis, but rather the cool rockabilly that maybe wasn’t still at the top of his game, but could still hold serve. 

So we’re leaving and as Darren Hanlon’s asks in What Can We Say?  It’s over, but maybe it was supposed to end this way after all.  But then maybe not.  Sure there’s an end to everything, but how it ends is usually a mystery. 

Not going to be missed

What we are left with is a series of things that will and will not be missed.  

Here’s the start of the list:

Going To Be Missed	Not Going To Be Missed
Friends	Public servants
Warm sunny days	98% humidity
Going out with friends and watching the Wallabies play	Watching the Wallabies lose to New Zealand and having to listen to the caterwauling of friends
Warm oceans	Oceans full of Box Jellyfish, crocs, sharks, aggressive surfers, fast rips, boats, other people, jetsam and flotsam
Watching the whales and dolphins at the local beach	Watching out for the Box Jellyfish, crocs, sharks, aggressive surfers, fast rips, boats, other people, jetsam and flotsam at the local beach
Listening to the virtues of a local Surfie (Surf Life Saving Club) being extolled by a particular friend.	Listening to a particular friend incessantly prattle on about the virtues of a local Surfie.
Parks with endless growing seasons, that provides food, shelter and perches for birds and other wonderful creatures.	The M(*#$er F#<&ing birds that you can’t hunt, can’t throw things at, can’t train cats to kill and can’t ignore, because they all start to squawk at 4am.
Being outside all year around	Wishing that we could install A/C outside
Eating anything at all off a BBQ	Eating anything at all off a BBQ
Coffee from local roaster	Coffee at $4 a cup
Living somewhere that’s warm enough to swim in outdoor pools all year.	Living somewhere that’s too bright outside to swim in outdoor pools, most of the year.
Bats	Snakes
Short skirts	Short skirts

How irony comes back to mock.  The sign says "flood"
and was set submerged in concrete to remind
of past floods.  

For sure there will be things that will be added to the list along the way, but that's the start.

Australia will be missed.  For those of you who have never visited, do.  But remember that a place is just a place; it’s the people that make it what it is. 

Surf town, where "high" pedestrian activity means different things

We’ll be back, certainly as tourists, perhaps of we’re lucky again, and we’ll get to live here again.  If we’re really lucky our friends will visit us and make the efforts to meet us along other travels.  It’s happened before, so why not again? 

So, what happens next?  What happens now?  What will become of the occasional dispatch from the Antipodes?  Don’t worry, the same thing that always happens next will happen.  Life goes on and there’s always another story.