ENTERTAINMENT
M A N D Y N O LA N ’S
SOAPBOX
W W W . E C H O . N E T. A U /
S O A P - B OX
FALLING FOR YOU
Why is falling over so embarrassing? Little kids do it all the time, they have a cry and get up. Maybe mummy or daddy kisses their ‘boo boo’ or mummy gives them some recovery titty, but in most cases they’re up and over it. For some reason, as we get older, falling over becomes shameful. It’s bloody embarrassing to fall over in public. It doesn’t matter how hurt you are, your femur could be protruding out your thigh, a small bit of brain could be dislodged, or an eye might have popped, but you’re like ‘nope – I’m good.’ The adrenalin gives you that little window of time to get to a safe place where you can suffer in solitude. You manage to get up and hobble to a hidey-hole where you can privately experience the pain of your trauma. And the trauma of your pain. You see, the pain of shame trumps the pain of pain. And ice only relieves the latter (unless it’s a different sort of ice). I did this the other night when I took a tumble in a carpark. A fellow comedian was walking me to my car, post gig. We were chatting, or more to the point, I was probably monologuing as we ambled to the far end of an unlit and deserted carpark, when I hit a pothole – in platforms. Being six foot tall is already a falling hazard. Being six foot tall, in four inch heels, not only adds elevated risk, it adds theatre. I must have looked spectacular. I’m tempted to check google earth to see if the satellites caught me. My poor friend certainly didn’t. In the split-second that I recognised I was horizontal, and parallel to the gravel, I made a millisecond decision to take it on the knee – rather than the face. Although at 51, I probably could have done with a good deep dermabrasion. Next thing I know I’m on the ground. My knee is really hurting. I’m embarrassed. My friend is concerned and says ‘Are you okay?’ I’m like, ‘Yeah I’m fine – just a graze.’ Which is total bullshit; I’m panicking – I’ve done something stupid. But I get up, assure him I’m okay, and make a beeline for my car. I could really do with some titty right about now. They should have breastfeeding mums as paramedics for these kinds of call-out. I would have given anything to rest my head on a comforting bosom with a little calming squirt of nature’s rescue remedy. Instead, I turn on the ignition and drive out. I notice my vision is restricted. I feel a bit light-headed; I’m seeing spots. Great, now I’m going to faint. It’s from the pain, and probably the shock of getting up so fast. I pull over, and try to put my head between my legs. Not for self-pleasuring, for self-preservation. If it was for selfpleasuring I would have done it years ago. But the steering wheel was in the way, so I blacked out. Not for long. When I came to, a few seconds later, I had the sensation of pain and shame all throbbing together in glorious consensus. What a dickhead. Why did I park there? Why wasn’t I using the torch on my phone? Why didn’t I wear sensible shoes – like those ugly birkenstocks? You never see people in birkenstocks fall over (maybe it’s because they’re embarrassed about their footwear and won’t leave the house). Where does the embarrassment of falling over come from? Is it because we feel stupid? That without any warning we are shown to be vulnerable – in public – our peers as witnesses. Is it because falling over is funny for others? It’s the inspiration for great slapstick. I have to admit I have often laughed at the spectacular falling over of people, until I’ve gone to their aid and realised they’re seriously injured or dead. Is it because we look old or weak? No one wants that – maybe because we are old and weak. Is it because we don’t want anyone to see us cry? A psychiatrist told me that we judge people’s character by how they respond in a fall; if people laugh at themselves, we like them. If they cry, we don’t. So next time you fall, remember; if you fall over and hurt yourself, and people see you cry, everyone will hate you. They’ll think you’re not resilient. It’s the same reason Liberal voters hate people on Centrelink. So get up, find somewhere quiet, and cry there. If you’re lucky, a breastfeeding mum might be strolling past.
HARPS THROUGH THE AGES LAZY SUNDAYS Lazy Sunday Sessions, hosted by award winning country artist Kathryn Jones and guests is back on at Ocean Shores Country Club this Sunday 13 October. This Sunday, the crew welcome Dan Hannaford. Opening Australian tour shows for the likes of Grammy award-winning bluesmen Charlie Musselwhite, Tex Perkins, Ash Grunwald and The Black Sorrows. Well-loved local Dan is busy gracing hundreds of stages around Australia, including Byron Bay Bluesfest, Falls Festival, the National Folk Festival, Gympie Muster and Summertime Blues in Austria. Currently working on his follow-up record in Los Angeles, the record is trimmed with a who’s who of seasoned session players, some of whom have played and recorded with the likes of Stevie Wonder, Keith Richards, Steve Earle and Willie Nelson. Drawing inspiration from artists such as Margaret Glaspy, Kasey Chambers and Julia Jacklin, Kathryn Jones’ other guest, Sam Hosie, weaves her powerful voice around intimate folk music and adds a soulful flare to old-time blues favourites. Kathryn herself is accompanied by multi award-winner Steve Passfield, and all-rounder bassist Alan Brooker. Sunday Session at Ocean Shores Country Club at 1pm. Free entry.
Music produces a THIS WEEK kind of HAPPY OPEN MIC NIGHT HOUR
W/ HARRY NICHOLS 4 -6PM pleasure HAPPY PRIVATE FUNCTION HOUR FROM 6PM 4-6PM which MAJUN BU HAPPY human HOUR BEN JANSZ 4 -6PM VAGGAPHONICS nature BYRON BAY can GUITAR FESTIVAL FREE not do BYRON BAY withFREE GUITAR FESTIVAL out.
BREWERY TOUR 2PM
BREWERY TOUR 2PM
– Confucius
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Louise Johnson is a star harpist. She has shared the stage with Cher and the Bee Gees, not to mention every major symphony, opera and ballet orchestra in the country. On Sunday, 20 October she presents a light-hearted program of The Harp’s Journey featuring her own green Irish harp, blue electric harp, and local musician Margaret Curtis’ superb concert harp. Louise has recently retired from the Sydney Symphony Orchestra after a stellar career as Principal Harp. Louise gave her first performance with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra at the age of 14, later joining the orchestra as a permanent member, and was appointed Principal Harp in 1985. She regularly appeared as a soloist with the orchestra: performing Debussy’s Danses sacres et profane with conductor Mark Elder in 1998; Mozart’s Flute and Harp Concerto with James Galway (1990), Janet Webb (2005) and Emma Sholl (2011); and Spohr’s Concertante for violin and harp with former SSO concertmaster Michael Dauth (2006); Hindemith’s Concerto for winds and harp (2013); the premiere of Lee Bracegirdle’s Legends of the Old Castle (2014); and Tan Dun’s Nu Shu – The Secret Songs of Women (2017). Don’t miss this one-off show, The Harp’s Journey, exclusive to Byron Music Society. Sunday 20 October 3pm at St Mary’s Anglican Church, Ballina (cnr Norton & Burnet Sts). Tix are $40 | $35 Members, concession | $20 Students
FOR MORE DETAILS VISIT WWW.BYRONBAYBREWERY.COM.AU wĈĆ?Ĺ&#x;ćĕſ Ç°Ç˝ NJǧǨǰ The Byron Shire Echo 33