Rock of Ages

Writer Bill Bryson observed that Australia is a country of clubs, and it is true that every city has a selection of RSL or social clubs offering entertainment, food, and drink to its members. Yesterday I had the great experience of attending such a club with one of its newest members (Ronald) and I can only say it was positive to the nth degree. Before I explain myself, I must recap events from earlier in the day. I wanted to see Wyatt one more time before I left the country and arranged to meet him in the city for lunch. To do so, I took the bus from Narrabeen down to the Manly Wharf to catch the ferry, not because it is the fastest way but because it was such a beautiful morning that I wanted to log in one more cruise across this beautiful harbor. Before the ferry left, I noticed a bunch of people sitting around the Manly Anzac monument and realized they were having a memorial service, complete with veterans and military cadets in uniform. It was Vietnam Memorial Day, and it was with mixed feelings that I paused to pay my respects to a country that shared that hopeless military adventure with us. Once in the city, I got a text from Wyatt saying he could meet me at the Town Hall rail station, so I hied myself there in short order. It was familar ground since it is the stop one would take if going to the Queen Victoria Building, Chinatown, or Paddy's Market. Once Wyatt joined me, I suggested we stroll down towards the Central railway station because I recalled seeing an interesting store in that area that I wanted to show him. The weather turned ugly then, with howling winds and leaden skies that threatened rain, which made me decide then and there to take a bus all the way back to Narrabeen rather than return by ferry. We arrived at the store, which was a military surplus/reenactors supply house with all kinds of uniforms and edged weapons from the Crusades to the present, and we had a nice conversation with the proprietor who showed us the pride of his offerings, an 1861 Colt rifle musket, manufactured for Civil War use but apparently never fired. It was in mint condition, with the original burnished finish and all markings as clear as the day they were stamped on the metal and wood. I have never seen an original musket in such pristine condition. We then made our way to a "hotel" where we had a nice pub lunch of chicken schnitzel and prawns. Wyatt was great company, and we said our goodbyes with true affection on both sides. I made my way back to Narrabeen on an express bus with limited stops, and I got a pizza at Dominos for our dinner. Then, Ronald and I went to the Beach Club at Colloroy for a night of "clubbing." It is hard to explain the concept of an Australian club to Americans because such institutions are not found in our cities, a place where people gather to socialize as much as to drink, to enjoy discounts on food, and to just generally have a good time. Tonight the entertainment was the Steve Edmonds band, a trio that featured a guitar player of unusual skill who specialized in the "oldies," (in other words, music that Ronald and I grew up with). This guy played Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, ZZ tops, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Deep Purple, and so many more, all presented with enough variations to put the band's own stamp on these classics. While we had our beers and enjoyed the music, I could not help noticing the diversity of the people enjoying the show. It was not a large crowd for a Friday night, but there were young folks, old folks, and everyone in between just having a ball. There was a large group of people who had some Downs Syndrome young adults with them and not only did it seem entirely appropriate for them to be in this venue, they also danced with wild abandon to the classic rock and roll belting out from the band. The whole experience was not exactly one of community per se, but certainly felt like one of belonging, and I was happy to be a part of it. Since Ronald and I had taken a cab to the club (driven by a very chatting Oz lady who discounted her fare), we were able to have all the beer and cider we felt like drinking. By chance, when we left the club the bus home arrived to pick us up within three minutes, so it was the perfect ending to an evening of classic rock, and Australian culture.