Mama Mia!

It's almost 4:00 p.m. and I'm sitting inside the Western Australia State Library, blogging now and listening to some beautiful live singing by an Italian choir ... You see, there's a celebration of the Italian community and their many contributions to the society here. There is presently an exhibition of moving testimonies in huge posters, accompanied by vintage pics of the early Italian immigrants, some of whom were p.o.ws of WW2! Fascinating ... really touching tales of discrimination and the consequences ... Certainly many democracies can learn to be repentant of their past mistakes and Downunder we can see with our very own eyes, a nation that is not afraid of its past shadows! Cool, even he Italian consul is here with some sort of Aussie statesman in the ceremony...Many of us are busy with our own activities but occasionally, some of us would glance at all the merry-making... uncommon practice out West that many asian libraries would frown upon in their old autocratic--or shall I say, authoriterian style!

How strange it is ... I wasn't supposed to be here! I would have been relaxing on the Indian Pacific train bound on a three-day ride to Adelaide! I tried booking a seat and even went to the train station at East Perth, after catching the metrotrain there but couldn't get a seat!

I sort of miss a wonderful French gal, Clemency who was on her merry way to Sydney on the Indian Pacific train. We were the only two persons sitting together and instantly hit it off. She entrusted her many belongings in my care when she had to go elseway and I did so likewise. She was smart, having just completed her uni and advertising studies ... She could be a Hollywood star with her stunning looks! Hell, sure wish I could flirt! Anyway, we couldn't help feeling a little sad to part as friends ... funny that she had just arrived from Auckland and I am on my way there!

Ah yes! Here's little update about this marvelous Aussie one-person only toilet ... I discovered that the public library one is really classy! When you enter inside it withits spaceous size, a male voice tells you to lock the door, followed by a lovely tune in the sound system ... It was soothing but the voice will remind you that "You have TEN minutes" in the loo. Hmmmnn ... I love the tune ...It was something about love--just forgotten its title... wonder if a different tune will come on? Gotta drop by to find out after this!

One little thing that bugs me about this place is FLIES! Nasty pests that will even attempt to enter your nostril and mouth, even when you're walking ... Malaysian flies are never this aggressive! Wonder if there are any attempts or campaigns Downunder to get rid of them permanently!

Remembering Autumn

Here's something about autumn, when winter is round the corner. In Canada, especially in the western provinces of Alberta and Sasketchewan, it starts getting really cold; in New Zealand, it gets cold too but it really isn't as cold as in Canada!

All the same, as the green leaves of summer turn into beautiful hues of yellow and orange... falling gently to the color-coated ground... those who are lonely hearts will feel their hearts melting deep inside...aching and aching as loved ones are remembered and dearly missed. This is always one of the four seasons in the West that deeply stirs one's soul...

Here's one of my favorite French singers of all time, Francois Hardy, singing a gut-wrenching melancholic song, "Autumn Rendzevous" and yeah, fellas, to me this talented and beautiful lady reminds us of those attractive lost loves in our life wherever they are... and of what a different life could be....

Of course, it's past autumn and winter right now but don't miss the memorable experience this year!

There have been some requests for the lyrics... so here it is:

Now the summer days are ending

Leaves are falling, red and gold.

Now the warmth of love is fading

And the nights are getting cold.

From the east the wind is blowing

Now the sky's no longer blue

Overhead the clouds are growing

Summer's gone and so are you.

You wanted to be free

Love was just a game to you

And you never meant to be

At this autumn rendezvous.

All the happiness life gave me

Changed to emptiness today.

Now that you no longer love me

Autumn's come, it's here to stay.

Life seems empty now without you.

It's not easy to forget

I may learn to live without you

But I'll always feel regret.

I would cry but it's no good

Tears won't bring you back to me

Though I'd stop you if I could

I can't change what has to be.

With the years I'll still remember

And in time the hurt will go;

I'll forget this sad September

And be glad I loved you so.

What is Honour?

No, I'm not a serious academician who will go into great lengths with eloquent words waxing the most famous wise bard of all times, William Sheakspeare's literary lines. Neither am I a philosopher, and a deep thinking one least of all, to write here what I ask: what is honour?

In the old days, without taxing your patience with details, it was a virtue worth dying for and could be seen in different forms. The knights and even cowboys in the West fought to defend it with swords, lancers and colts: duels were fought throughout history. In the East, in certain societies women who have embarrassed or shamed their families were murdered in so-called 'honour killings' and the killers did not fear the arms of the law. Ah yes, the keris, kwang tau, spears and parangs were the weapons to defend this virtue.

The Japanese, with what little of their pride left intact, after the humiliating WWII defeat, display their courageous strict code of honour by resigning from public office, admitting their shortcomings or guilt publicly; others committed suicide by various methods like the drastic ultimate act of 'hari-kiri'-suicide by self-disembowelment. Remember that what's his name famous nationalist Japanese writer in the '70s who did this shocking act?

So to cut out all the big talk and get into the facts here's what Webster says about honour:
1. honesty, fairness, or integrity in one's beliefs and actions: a man of honour. 2. a source of credit or distinction: to be an honour to one's family. 3. high respect, as for worth, merit, or rank: to be held in high honour. 4. such respect manifested: a memorial in honour of the dead.... blah...blah... blah the description goes on, most fascinatingly.

Without going further, let me leave these words on honour in the ill-fated corrupted love between that famous romantic French knight in shinning armour, Lancelot and King Arthur's wife, Geneivere. The famous poet, Lord Alfred Tennyson penned, "his honour rooted in dishonour stood/And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true. Hmmmnnnnnnn my German part of the brain is wondering why these verses spring to mind...

The hour is late so I'll return to check what I write off my head and see everything is correct, correct, correct.