James Vs. The (2009) Recession II
You've got 24 year old James again this week.
A few people (three of you) requested more of the GFC content from last week. So here’s part two.
Reading back something I wrote 16 years ago, I’m both impressed by my unwarranted confidence, and cringed out by what a little dickhead I was.
This one goes pretty off the rails at points, so I’ve provided some footnotes below.
After the Trouble I had with The Recession late last year, the outlook for 2009 was looking grim. I retreated to the coast mid-January and jumped off some rocks into water a few times - returning invigorated and inspired.
Sydney was all of a sudden a different place; the city opened up to me. I no longer felt conscious of my own body (like when you have an ear infection). I went for a stroll around Crown St and soaked in the atmosphere. This is what I saw and felt.
Billy Kwong's, Crown St1:
A group of people were waiting in line for the 6:30PM sitting. They were mostly a bit older than I, and in spite of their relaxed discussion about fused dinners, you could tell that The Recession was lurking somewhere around the middle of their minds:
'I got tickets to The Presets AND season passes to the Swannies!2' Said one.
'I hear The Presets are spectacular live.' Said another. This was greeted by a series of solemn nods and mentions that both members were trained at 'the con.'
I paused to do up my shoelace. Oh no! It wasn't today, it was summer (I was wearing thongs). Instead of standing up again, I remained crouching and updated Twitter from my phone. I will never, ever understand why I did this. The conversation outside Billy Kwong's continued.
The main man in the conversation had a shaved head and Barcelona chairs in his heart - which was easily visible from the sleeve of his flanellette shirt. His pre-dinner conversation managed to extend beyond his immediate, incorporating almost all of the waiting diners.
'... It was the strangest thing.' Said a peripheral lady. 'On the way here we saw the word "UPROCK" written in plastic cups on a fence.'
'It's called Cuprocking3.' Said the Main Man. 'It's done by a guy from around here. It's pretty cool, huh?'
'Yeah, it's really expressive. And fun!'
'It's a far more efficient way to "bomb a public space," than with spray cans. It's very guerilla.'
'Oh wow, it sounds like it. I don't know very much about street art - working in accounting and all -'
The group suddenly went silent and stared at the ground as several young residents of the Oasis shelter walked past. The Main Man shifted uncomfortably4 from foot to foot and pulled out his iPhone to make sure he hadn't been outbid on one of those knife blocks that look like the knives are stabbing the contemporary stick figure man.
I could feel the awkardness. You know, with them not knowing each other too well, and me crouching several metres away just typing their conversation into my phone. It was understandable. I decided to diffuse the situation by talking to them, like I had been part of the conversation all along. I stood up and took a step towards the Main Man.
'Woah! Those kids were so fucken sexy!'
He looked up from his iPhone. 'Sorry?'
'It was probably lucky they walked past when they did though.' I said. 'I mean, like before you referred to Andy Uprock as one of the main "Cats in the scene" to this lady.' I tried to wink at the lady, but ended up just rapidly blinking (don't know how to wink).
'What are you talking about?'
'Do you also Get performance art?'
'What do you mean?'
'You know when someone decides to stop going to their job and relating to people? Performance art is what happens when that person wears black slacks and is in a room when Clover Moore is making a speech. THAT, is what I mean5.'
He looked at me horrified. 'Who are you?'
I extended my hand. 'Here's my card.'
It read:
James Ross-Edwards.6
A trendy restaurant owned by Kylie Kwong and Bill Grainger (RIP the King). At the time, I lived close by and associated it with evil yuppies. Realistically, this would be me six months later when I secured a full time job in an ad agency and could afford to eat dinner there.
This is a growing up in NSW last century thing, but I was deeply distrustful of Sydneysiders who liked AFL. Just let the class you were born in divide you between rugby league and rugby union like a normal person?!
This guy was a moment in time you can Google if you want. It’s hasn’t dated amazingly, but again, I can’t remember exactly what my problem was with him and it.
I guess I’m trying to imply that this guy was uncomfortable around homeless youths, unlike me, who was
My girlfriend Jess (now wife) had been involved in a group art exhibition around this time. Clover Moore attended the opening and a very boring spoken word artist had performed - so I think this is what I’m talking about. I wish I could tell my young self about all the embarrassing spoken word performances in my future.
Still need to get these cards.