Anniversary.

I’m just writing for me today. Please don’t feel I need a reaction or sympathy, or anything like that. I’m actually laying on a beach on Koh Samui wearing a moo moo and having a great time so I’m in a really good place – geographically and emotionally.

But I can’t let today go by without writing about the anniversary of my Dad’s death. 11 years ago today, he was only 56. 11 years is a long time though and it’s a long time to heal. But anniversaries are shit in the sense that they are very specific. They force you to remember the events of a certain day in time. If it’s a wedding, great, lots of good memories. If it’s a death or tragedy than an anniversary is pure shit.

My poor Mum had to call both my Bro and I to tell us the news 11 years ago today. How she did that I’ll never know. I was sitting at my desk at Channel Ten. I very clearly remember that absolute complete loss of control when Mum first called. Its emotional, its physical, it’s everything. It just breaks you in two. You just loose all control of yourself in every sense. After that your head and heart are not in the same place together again for some time to come.

I know my workmates got me home that day and my friends got me on a plane. I know mum and Cousin Trude met me at the airport. I know all our family was together.  I remember things more as ‘situations’ after that. Mum, Bro and I with the funeral director, my amazing family. Sonia and Alana making tea and sandwiches all weekend, sitting in Cass’s spare room to write the eulogy. Massive breakdown getting out of the car at the funeral, giving the eulogy but not what I said. At the wake I fell in a heap, my body packed it in, and I curled up in my childhood bedroom.

See this is the sort of stuff that anniversaries make you remember. Cause it’s all about a date and what happened on that day. It’s tough on the anniversary of a tragedy in your life to remember the healing, the progress, and the good memories which over time you’ve come to do for the other 355 days a year. I resent that the anniversary drags me back to that dark place and makes me forget everything else.

There is absolutely nothing you can do to prepare for the sudden loss of a parent. In hindsight it took me much longer to get my life back on track than I thought at the time. And I think the sooner you accept you will never be the same again the easier it becomes. I also learnt how to accept that there are times that you are gonna be emotional, angry or really sad and that there is nothing you can do about it. My advice to anyone who loses someone now is ‘just take care of yourself, do what you need to do’.

But I’m not gonna dwell on that tough time or on the life I shared with my Dad. That’s probably a little too personal, even for me. Instead…

I think I share a very special bond with Dad in death. I’m not sure when it started but I’m pretty sure it was not long after that initial trauma. There are times when I know that Dad is with me. I can sense him with me. It’s always fleeting but he just pops up every now and then, sometimes stronger than others, but always in a good way. He has a presence and I feel him with me at the most random times you can imagine. I love that he checks in. I shared this with Aschapelle and over the years it was great to have him there with me when I could say “Dad’s here”.

Now I’m not Christian and I could hardly be described as spiritual but I believe in this. I was concerned in the early years cause you don’t want your parents seeing everything you do – especially 2004 - but I also believe there is no judgement. He’s just there with me.

I’ve also learnt to call on him for support. Whenever I’m going through a tough time, am really stressed or have a high-pressured situation to get through I call on him to support me through it, to prop me up. And if it’s a really big problem for me I call on my Aunty Bub as well. I’m very lucky cause I have two guardian angels. And considering the luck I’ve had in my life despite my own stupidity and foolishness they are obviously the two best guardian angels ever!

The other bond with Dad ‘in death’ is seeing more of him in me. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone on this, but the older you get the more you realise and understand how much you are like your parents. I’ve always been a Mummy’s boy and take after her a lot. Since we lost Dad I’ve come to understand the similarities between us a lot more, especially in the last few years. There is more of Dad in me than I ever thought. Some of it good, some of it bad, a lot to learn from. It’s very comforting to feel that part of your father lives on in you. It will make me a better person.

So yes, it’s a sad day. But I’m determined not to get lost in thinking about the details of this date, the sense of loss or the life not lived. It’s taken a long time but I can draw strength from the bond that Dad and I have now. It’s so different to before, and I don’t really expect anyone to understand, but it’s a bond I treasure.

It doesn’t matter how many years have passed since we lost him, I will always be my father's son.

Love you Dad. Xoxoxo

Steven

A Family Album

Spent a fantastic weekend in Cobar with my beautiful nieces and nephew. And the best tasting rissoles ever. 





Featuring Miss 7, Miss 5, Mr 2, Miss 1 (her 1st B'day!), Bro, Sis-in-law and the biggest kid of all, St. Murphy. Rissoles hand made by Sis-in-law.

THE END!

Shit my pants!

So I’m sitting on a very small plane. We’re flying high above regional NSW. At any moment I could shit my pants.

I think this is the world’s smallest plane to ever take off from Mascot. Seriously, it is less than 2 metres wide. I am practically a midget but I can still reach out and touch the wall on the other side of the plane.

Every slight bump to me feels like we are tumbling out of the sky smack-bang into Dubbo or Parkes. The pilot seems a lovely chap, all four of us passengers have met him. He spoke to us on the mini-bus on the tarmac, yes a mini-bus shuttled us to our very small plane.

The pilot was also the one who handed us our in-flight snacks as we got on. He had an esky besides the stairs up in to the plane . God I wish I had got a photo of that. No one will ever believe me.

Snack from the esky.

Normally I absolutely love flying. In fact this is the first time I can remember since a Griffith to Sydney flight in ’88 that I have been petrified. In ’88 it was because of a ferocious storm. No storm today, just a very small plane.

Back to the snacks. I’d eaten them before I’d even put my belt on.

Laptop on lap cause there's no tray...

We’ve been flying now for about 40mins and I may lose circulation in my legs cause I have the belt so tight. Wouldn’t it be funny if I survived the flight but than fell down the plane’s small stairs cause I’d lost feeling in my legs.

Fuck. My stomach and heart just literally fell out. I swear we just plummeted 50m. Well, it certainly felt like it and I ain’t no drama queen.

Please please please let me survive!

Run to the light...

I have to admit though I have the best seat in the house. I am in the 10^th and final row and definitely have more leg room than all the other rows. Comes from a finely tuned, highly skilled flirting technique I’ve developed over the years for all ground staff. The poor guy in front of me, a big burly miner, has his knees up round his ears. It would be less claustrophobic for him underground where he works.

You know this thing flies by two mall propellers and nothing else. The lovely pilot just advised us we are well ahead of schedule – thank god! – cause of ‘a very lovely tail wind’. One mans tail wind is another mans death wish.

See how how short the wing is!

I’m off to Cobar to see my Bro, Sis-in-law and my beautiful nieces and nephew. It’s my nieces 1^st birthday and Uncle St. Murphy wants to shower her with some love. Been to Cobar many times in the last few years but have always driven – a bit like Priscilla Queen of the Desert. This trip is a quick weekender so time is money, money is time.

Instead of 8 hours in the car each way its only 90 mins in a very small plane. I question now, as I brace myself for what can only be a horrific landing, if I’ve made the right decision.

What I didn’t factor in was the cost of new undies and jeans after I shit myself from fear in the very small plane.

Thank god I have something to look forward to on landing!

Cobar airport, landed safely...

ANZAC Day Dawn Service

Every year for as long as I can remember my Grandma has attended the ANZAC Day Dawn Service. She lost her husband, my grandfather, in WW2 and subsequently raised two boys on her own who never knew their father. She can not attend this year so I will take her place. I am sad and embarrassed to admit that I have never been to the Dawn Service before. My Pa also proudly fought in WW2, so it is fair to say that the war has had a dramatic effect on my family. I’m humbled to remember them both today.

Dedication of Purpose

At this hour, on this day, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, at Galipoli made immortal the name of ANZAC and established an imperishable tradition of selfless service of devotion to duty and fighting for all that is best in human relationships.

We who are gathered here today in this dawn vigil remember with gratitude the men and women who have given and are still giving in our Armed and Support Services, all that is theirs to give in order that the world may be a nobler place in which to live.

And with them, we remember those left behind to bear the sorrow of their loss.

Let us therefore dedicate ourselves to taking up the burdens of the fallen, and with the same high courage and stead-fastness with which they went into battle, set our hands to the tasks they left unfinished. Let us dedicate ourselves to the ideals for which they died. Let us with God’s help, give our utmost to make the world what they would have wished it to be, a better and happier place for all its people, through whatever means are open to us.

Special thanks to my dear, dear friend Sonia Louise who I accompanied this morning. She attends the Dawn Service every year.

Celebrating Good People on Good Friday!

Upfront: I have completely stolen this idea from Twitter-bestie ShaunHeron. He began a ‘movement’ during the week to change Follow Friday (or #FF) to Good Follow Friday. Instead of the Twitterverse sending shoutouts to their friends, for Good Friday he wanted everyone to send shoutouts to people who are doing good in the world. So that’s what I’m going to do at St. Murphy today.

Happy Easter!

Now I am not a religious person in any sense. Like many of my people, organised religion scares me. It's all that “Gays are going to hell” and “ Your relationships are the devil’s work” that puts me off. But I do believe in some of the christian values such as be kind to people, fill the world with love, take care of one another, respect and honesty.

While I am not 100% sure what Good Friday means in a Christian sense, I am going to use it to celebrate good people, doing good work, for the greater good. It may be someone undertaking a special project or just someone who just by being themselves makes the world a better place. Bottom line, I just want to celebrate and acknowledge some peeps that have made a difference in my world – the good people.

Mums

It’s a world so different to my selfish existence. This past month I’ve spent a lot of time with some beautiful mums – my Sis-In-Law and my gorgeous nieces and nephew, Cousin Trudy and Mrs Woog with the Woogettes. I honestly do not know how you ladies do it! I get exhausted thinking about it. I struggle with the compromising it involves having a pet, let alone a child. I've learnt from you guys how big and how important your role as a mother is. And goddamn you do it well!

Nina and Lucas

The Commitment Project           

Evan Cooper, through his website The Commitment Project, has simply, effectively and with so much heart put forward his case for Gay Marriage. Evan tells the story of gay couples who have been together longer than 8.8 years – this is the average length of a hetero marriage. It is a motivating and insightful website, and the fact that Evan has undertaken such a huge task is inspiring. It is people like Evan who can bring about great change. Get on board!

The Twitter-verse

I make jokes about my Twitter obsession all the time; yes it’s a time waster, yes it’s distracting, yes its full of a lot of shit. But I honestly do not know what I would have done the past few months without it, my crutch. It creates community, friendships, entertainment and knowledge. I’ve relied on it so much as an outlet for contact and engagement. And I’ve met so many new fabulous people, and cemented friendships with people who were only acquaintances previously. All jokes aside, its been my safe-place for the last few months. To my Tweeps – you are good, good people.

Twitter-Date #1 with @Simieboy & Milney01

Great writing & Tim Dunlop           

You maybe sensing a slight theme here, that’s because equality is very important to me. Via a tweet from TheFlack I was introduced to this phenomenal piece of writing by TimDunlop. For two reasons: his incredibly eloquent and sensible explanation for the legalising of Gay Marriage and for the fact he gives it to the offensive ramblings of Barry Cohen. For every dumb-ass Barry Cohen we need 5 brilliant Tim Dunlop’s so that as a society we are always moving forward, not backwards. We all need to stand up to the Barry Cohen's of the world.

Funny People

I rate laughing very highly. In fact, it is mandatory. Laughing with, laughing at, chuckling, mocking, laughing at yourself - its all good. Luckily all my friends are funny bitches, friends always have a shared sense-of-humour. Met a whole heap of new people lately who have made me laugh... Hard! So if I've laughed at, with or about you recently THANK YOU! I think everyone needs to lighten up! We've got a lot to be happy about me thinks.

Laughing...

exBoyfriend

I've been blogging for about 3 months and in that time Boyfriend became exBoyrfriend. Today I want to change it again. I use nicknames for my closest friends here on St. Murphy and exBoyfriend is one of my nearest and dearest. exBoyfriend sounds nasty and suggests a harshness that doesn't exist. He will now be known as Aschapelle due to his morbid obsession with Ms Corby. What this latest change means is that I 100% believe we have very maturely, cleverly and respectfully transitioned ourselves from long-term lovers to life-long friends. I would seriously be lost without my Aschapelle.





So thats my Good People on Good Friday wrap-up. Hope you liked it. Celebrate the good people today! And Laugh!

ROADTRIP: Priscilla Queen of Cobar

I love airports and I love planes! I've packed up my Clinique Men's range, headband and a suitcase of accessories and I'm heading 800km west of the Ghetto. But I always get a little nervous when you have to walk across the tarmac to get to your seat. Never a good sign…

Truth be known, I was asleep before take-off so the size of the plane was hardly a concern. I was off on a little jet plane to Dubbo for the first leg of my journey out west for Bro’s wedding. This first leg was the easy part, slept like a baby, the second part was a little more difficult but so much more interesting.

Picked up my hire car and my first Red Bull at Dubbo airport. Chookas to the lovely Budget Car woman who remembered me from last time. She is so sweet, and it was her wedding anniversary so extra love her way. And as she did for me last time, she wrote down the order of the towns that I had to drive through. Most important of the directions is the road selection at Nyngan – “veer left not right or you’ll end up in Bourke. This is not good.”

My 'virgin' beast!

So with the very handy list from Budget Lady I was off in my Hyundai i30, it had a grand total 36km on it so I’ve broken that baby in. I didn’t make it far before I needed a snack. Picked up a heavenly Chiko Role in Trangie as well as my second Red Bull. It’s 10.30am. Nothing like a hearty, well-balanced breakfast to start your day.

Now just before you hit Nyngan there is a gigantic sign welcoming you to the Bogan Shire – you can imagine how welcome that made me feel. I think I should have been born here! I am a very proud bogan, bogan to the core, and the gayest bogan of the bogan gays. I feel this is my homeland here in Bogan Shire. SO wish I had of got a pic of it. Stopped in Nyngan for more food and Red Bull, starting to see a pattern here??? I stop at the same place each time cause they have this gorgeous, quirky and slightly weird knick-knack collection on display….

Now after Nyngan the road gets even straighter and flatter (if that’s possible) and you lose all radio contact. Popped on my iPod, pre-charged and stocked in preperation. Did some BRILLIANT car-singing, some of my best ever! It was Whitney Houston’s Bodyguard soundtrack. Now seriously, at her peak the now crack-riddled Whitney was a genius! GENIUS! I’m Every Woman, Run To You, I Will Always Love You and Queen of the Night – I hit every note + plus key changes! I was successfully channelling Delta Goodrem.

No one can hear me out here!

Now on this long straight road where it seems you can travel at the speed of light, they seemed to have whacked up some stop lights for no apparent reason. Sat here on red for 5 minutes. Not really sure what I’d stopped for, but a red light is a red light. Go figure.

I had earlier bumped into a bikie gang at the Nyngan bakery. As always when I see/smell bikies it’s a strange mix of fear and arousal. They overtook my on the open road which had elements of Jodie Foster in The Accused. I tried to get a pic of them passing me, god only knows why. Probably should have been focused on not hitting them.

I had one more brief stop for a ciggie and then hit fabulous Cobar! For such a remote place, this place ROCKS! I always have a ball here. Those miners know how to enjoy themselves when they are above ground. Drinking here is something very different to home. Oxford St is a poor training ground for Cobar. I will give it my best this weekend though, my Bro deserves nothing less.

Priscilla Queen of Cobar has Arrived!

Bro's Getting Married

My one and only brother, my Bro, is getting married this Saturday which is the coolest thing in the world! It's going to be a massive, brilliant event. And, as I have been demanding from him since the age of 10, I am Best Man for my Bro. Couldn’t be more proud! But unfortunately with the very proud position of Best Man comes the Best Man’s speech. WIth only two days to go I'm having a slight panic.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on what the Best Man's speech should be like. I'm feeling some pressure. It can really set the tone for the rest of the night. A funny, clever, topical BM’s speech can really get the party started. And you probably all know of weddings where it all goes tits-up after a bad or unfunny BM’s speech. I can not let that happen at my Bro’s wedding.

At the best of times I am a sentimental fool. At my Bro’s wedding my sentimental-factor hits 10+. How could it not??? All the elements are there. He's marrying his true partner and mother of his children, the gorgeous Kel. All our family will be there (remember, my family is like the mafia, we are also from Griffith!) and all our families closest friends. Plus of course my sister-in-law's family who are fabulous! Its gonna be a fantastc day and night. I’ll be speaking on behalf of Mumsy and I, with a big nod to Dadsy; I cry like a baby at the best of times so this is gonna be tough.

I'm reading all the tips...

Suits, cufflinks, ties and shoes – all organised. Mostly thanks to the soon-to-be-Mrs Murphy cause she is a MACHINE in the organisation stakes. If there is any organisation left up to Bro and I we will always come up short. Not in our genetic make-up me thinks, we’d be bankrupt if we were an events organising company. We were just lucky enough to pull off the Buck’s Night, anything more is too big for us. So for the big day I don’t have much to think about or prepare for - except the speech.

No one told me such a book existed

It’s really important to me for so many reasons that I get this right. It needs to be that weird mix of funny, sincere, official and BRIEF. I struggle with brief. The first time I was a Best Man, for my bestie Snuddo, I think it clocked in at 40mins. The wedding video is excruciating and still requires some heavy editing. The second time, when I was Matron of Honour for darling Cassandra Louise, it was at a fabulously informal gathering so it rolled off the tongue in a matter of minutes. Bro’s wedding is new ground and so not the time to be testing new material.

...and stealing lines!

There is one small thing I must be thankful for, and I will go to hell for saying it out loud. Until recently exBoyfriend was to be the MC but with the recent ‘change of circumstance’ a replacement has had to be found. Thank God! He so would have shown me up for being the second-rate public speaker that I am, he is a natural at it. Phew! Maybe I should be getting him to write the speech… (said with a hint of hope that there will be an offer made).

Best be off and get cracking on the speech! Cousin Trude, hope you are available for a test-run-through????

Next post: Like Priscilla Queen of the Dessert I will be en-route to Cobar for the much-anticipated wedding! Till then…

Me in Cobar!