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Freaky Friday
06/04/2012 10:30 pmGood Friday is a strange day. It is sort of like Halloween for Christians. For that reason the Izzie just loves it. Not only is just about every shop closed on this day but it is the one day that resolutely does not lend itself to commercialization and consumerism. While Easter itself is all about chocolate, eggs and fluffy bunnies, spring and new life (who cares if it is actually autumn in this bit of Oz?) Good Friday is all about gloom and doom and that big bad D word.
Strangely, in spite of all the shops being closed, the city still seemed to be teeming with humans. Tourists we guess and most of them gravitated towards McDonalds and other assorted junk food venues.
Even the arcades are closed on this day. There is some arcane law concerned with private property and customary usage. If a privately owned property is accessible to the public every day there is a chance that such access can be enforced due to custom. So the owners of all these privately owned walkways, arcades and pavilions use this one day of the year to lock the gates and assert their ownership.
Izzie’s business in the city was twofold. The first was a visit to the Wesley Church’s ‘Stations of the Cross’ art exhibition and the second was the usual Good Friday trek around the eastern end of the town with the graveyard and assorted old spooky buildings
Took a peek in Hungry Jack’s before visiting the church. Lazy Izzie should have had her nibblies at the Lair instead of eating out especially on this day when just about anything decent is closed
The vegie burgers are no longer $3 something like they used to be but $4.95. Not much bang for the buck. Would have been much better off getting the intriguingly titled and likely very fattening ‘angry onions’
Had already taken a sneak peek in the church the previous day. It was built in 1870 and is beautiful without being excessively ostentatious.
One very clever artist had turned the crown of thorns into a bird’s nest. For the second station “Jesus takes up the cross” she had made two sculptures.
One featured an androgynous creature with a crown of thorns on his head. There were two eggs sitting in this crown. One was whole and the other broken and seemingly hatched. The second which was infinitely sad and beautiful was a bust. The same creature - this time a bit thinner still had the crown of thorns on his head but it was empty and in his hands he was holding a very fragile and definitely dead little bird. It was like he was grieving over the poor creature. The expression on his face was a mixture of grief, sweetness and sadness. It was such a spooky and haunting image. The face could best be described as looking somewhat similar to Gollum’s good twin - if he ever had one.
Last year’s image for the same station was not so elegant and beautiful but still most memorable. It was a dump truck filled with tons of junk.
Last year Radio National also had more interesting offerings including a story about Bob Dylan’s song “The lonesome death of Hattie Carroll” It seemed sort of appropriate for the day. Also strange was that last year was much hotter and muggier in spite of being three weeks later. Today’s weather was just glorious. Sunny, crisp and crunchy and most magical indeed
After the church it was time to slink off to the eastern end of town. Sat in a very pretty park reading Stephen King’s “Carrie” Had also been reading this while sitting outside the church. Turns out that Carrie’s mother is a bit of a born again Christian and has a ghastly statue of Crucified Jesus in all its gory detail which scares the hell out of her poor daughter who has nightmares of him chasing her with hammer and nails and begging her to take up his cross.
Stayed with Carrie in the park until it was time for the Prom Night. At that stage it was time to move on to the old graveyard via Wickham Street. More and more of the gorgeous old houses are vanishing to be replaced by yuppie apartments.
Being a bit of a bag lady, had also brought along the latest offering from the local library “Desperation”
Creepy but not quite as instantly addictive as “Carrie”. Sat at a park bench near the graveyard reading the second book and watching the sunset. Decided not to bother with the rising full moon this time. It is just too tricky to catch coming up.
Could not help but think of the first Good Friday that this tradition of visiting the graveyard started. Back in 1999 the eastern end of town was a wasteland. The graveyard was in a state of ruin and had been a beloved lurking ground of assorted junkies and well and truly part of the bad lands. It had only just been fenced off. The rest of the area consisted of little more than a police station, driving license department and the brutalist Main Roads head quarters.
Overlooking the river were some gorgeous old houses and some shaded streets with Moreton Bay Fig trees. The rest of the area was pretty much empty with most of it divided into lots to be sold as part of the gentrification process
Was appropriately reading Stephen King’s “The Dead Zone”. Near 6pm was sitting near the graveyard watching the sunset and reading the bit where the main character finally comes out of his very long coma. Earlier had been sitting at a park bench overlooking the river and then assorted empty places reading about how the time was passing while John Smith was in his coma. Things took a turn in the middle of winter amidst some particularly heavy snows
The really spooky thing was the image that Izzie had of this whole area being covered in a thick blanket of snow. It was so vivid that it seemed real. Even now we can still remember the scenes. But this was the south west of Oz in early April. Even in the depths of winter, snow is unheard of in this neck of the woods so it had to be due to an overactive imagination
But it was kind of scary to be so drawn into a story that the outside reality seemed to reflect it. This was the middle of the story but in memory of that day, had taken to starting a new one every year on Good Friday and preferably something spooky. Last year it wasn’t but Dan Brown’s “Da Vinci Code” did seem appropriate for the day that was in it.
Most of the eastern part of town except the graveyard is now Yuppieville on steroids. But the Izzie is not fooled. The old magic and sense of sacredness is still there and is one of the main reasons for constantly returning to this special place around Easter and Halloween.
Slinked off after the sunset and took a few pictures of the full moon over the graveyard. Was surprised at how small the moon appeared in the pictures and how large it seemed in reality. Maybe cameras don’t spot optical illusions.
Got the bus back to the Lair just before 7pm and paid a quick visit to the shops to get some kitty litter for the garden. This time last year we did not have the Supa IGA store open even on Good Friday until the ungodly hour of 11pm
Then it was time to slink about in the Lair by the light of the full moon and ceremoniously open the bottle of “Snake Charmer’ Shiraz especially bought for the occasion earlier this week. Was still wearing the special emerald green “Sabbat Hat’ courtesy of a certain Cat as well as the silver serpent ring and necklace.
A most magical day it has been indeed. Much more so than the overrated happy clappy Easter Sunday. Will save the adventure of Carrie at the Prom for that day. Suspecting that this will not be a happy ending at all. (Is it possible to have spoilers for a story that is nearly 40 years old?)
Strangely, in spite of all the shops being closed, the city still seemed to be teeming with humans. Tourists we guess and most of them gravitated towards McDonalds and other assorted junk food venues.
Even the arcades are closed on this day. There is some arcane law concerned with private property and customary usage. If a privately owned property is accessible to the public every day there is a chance that such access can be enforced due to custom. So the owners of all these privately owned walkways, arcades and pavilions use this one day of the year to lock the gates and assert their ownership.
Izzie’s business in the city was twofold. The first was a visit to the Wesley Church’s ‘Stations of the Cross’ art exhibition and the second was the usual Good Friday trek around the eastern end of the town with the graveyard and assorted old spooky buildings
Took a peek in Hungry Jack’s before visiting the church. Lazy Izzie should have had her nibblies at the Lair instead of eating out especially on this day when just about anything decent is closed
The vegie burgers are no longer $3 something like they used to be but $4.95. Not much bang for the buck. Would have been much better off getting the intriguingly titled and likely very fattening ‘angry onions’
Had already taken a sneak peek in the church the previous day. It was built in 1870 and is beautiful without being excessively ostentatious.
One very clever artist had turned the crown of thorns into a bird’s nest. For the second station “Jesus takes up the cross” she had made two sculptures.
One featured an androgynous creature with a crown of thorns on his head. There were two eggs sitting in this crown. One was whole and the other broken and seemingly hatched. The second which was infinitely sad and beautiful was a bust. The same creature - this time a bit thinner still had the crown of thorns on his head but it was empty and in his hands he was holding a very fragile and definitely dead little bird. It was like he was grieving over the poor creature. The expression on his face was a mixture of grief, sweetness and sadness. It was such a spooky and haunting image. The face could best be described as looking somewhat similar to Gollum’s good twin - if he ever had one.
Last year’s image for the same station was not so elegant and beautiful but still most memorable. It was a dump truck filled with tons of junk.
Last year Radio National also had more interesting offerings including a story about Bob Dylan’s song “The lonesome death of Hattie Carroll” It seemed sort of appropriate for the day. Also strange was that last year was much hotter and muggier in spite of being three weeks later. Today’s weather was just glorious. Sunny, crisp and crunchy and most magical indeed
After the church it was time to slink off to the eastern end of town. Sat in a very pretty park reading Stephen King’s “Carrie” Had also been reading this while sitting outside the church. Turns out that Carrie’s mother is a bit of a born again Christian and has a ghastly statue of Crucified Jesus in all its gory detail which scares the hell out of her poor daughter who has nightmares of him chasing her with hammer and nails and begging her to take up his cross.
Stayed with Carrie in the park until it was time for the Prom Night. At that stage it was time to move on to the old graveyard via Wickham Street. More and more of the gorgeous old houses are vanishing to be replaced by yuppie apartments.
Being a bit of a bag lady, had also brought along the latest offering from the local library “Desperation”
Creepy but not quite as instantly addictive as “Carrie”. Sat at a park bench near the graveyard reading the second book and watching the sunset. Decided not to bother with the rising full moon this time. It is just too tricky to catch coming up.
Could not help but think of the first Good Friday that this tradition of visiting the graveyard started. Back in 1999 the eastern end of town was a wasteland. The graveyard was in a state of ruin and had been a beloved lurking ground of assorted junkies and well and truly part of the bad lands. It had only just been fenced off. The rest of the area consisted of little more than a police station, driving license department and the brutalist Main Roads head quarters.
Overlooking the river were some gorgeous old houses and some shaded streets with Moreton Bay Fig trees. The rest of the area was pretty much empty with most of it divided into lots to be sold as part of the gentrification process
Was appropriately reading Stephen King’s “The Dead Zone”. Near 6pm was sitting near the graveyard watching the sunset and reading the bit where the main character finally comes out of his very long coma. Earlier had been sitting at a park bench overlooking the river and then assorted empty places reading about how the time was passing while John Smith was in his coma. Things took a turn in the middle of winter amidst some particularly heavy snows
The really spooky thing was the image that Izzie had of this whole area being covered in a thick blanket of snow. It was so vivid that it seemed real. Even now we can still remember the scenes. But this was the south west of Oz in early April. Even in the depths of winter, snow is unheard of in this neck of the woods so it had to be due to an overactive imagination
But it was kind of scary to be so drawn into a story that the outside reality seemed to reflect it. This was the middle of the story but in memory of that day, had taken to starting a new one every year on Good Friday and preferably something spooky. Last year it wasn’t but Dan Brown’s “Da Vinci Code” did seem appropriate for the day that was in it.
Most of the eastern part of town except the graveyard is now Yuppieville on steroids. But the Izzie is not fooled. The old magic and sense of sacredness is still there and is one of the main reasons for constantly returning to this special place around Easter and Halloween.
Slinked off after the sunset and took a few pictures of the full moon over the graveyard. Was surprised at how small the moon appeared in the pictures and how large it seemed in reality. Maybe cameras don’t spot optical illusions.
Got the bus back to the Lair just before 7pm and paid a quick visit to the shops to get some kitty litter for the garden. This time last year we did not have the Supa IGA store open even on Good Friday until the ungodly hour of 11pm
Then it was time to slink about in the Lair by the light of the full moon and ceremoniously open the bottle of “Snake Charmer’ Shiraz especially bought for the occasion earlier this week. Was still wearing the special emerald green “Sabbat Hat’ courtesy of a certain Cat as well as the silver serpent ring and necklace.
A most magical day it has been indeed. Much more so than the overrated happy clappy Easter Sunday. Will save the adventure of Carrie at the Prom for that day. Suspecting that this will not be a happy ending at all. (Is it possible to have spoilers for a story that is nearly 40 years old?)
