Liz, you've done it again!

http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/sacrifice-redferns-grunge-at-your-peril-20120502-1xz5e.html

I wont wast space, as this epic comment, of which I wholeheartedly agree, comes from Fran (May not be her real name)

'Is it just me or is there something incredibly offensive and patronising about a member of the landed gentry revelling in the plight of the underclass because they add a little colour to her middle-class life?
Maybe they add charm and grunge to your existence, Elizabeth, as you step over them on the way to the train station, and you can pat yourself on the back about how 'progressive' you are for living side by side with these people, but I can guarantee life isn't so charming or colourful from their point of view.
The solution is not to divide the suburb or deny their existence, but neither is it to romanticise this urban decay from your lofty position of privilege and power.'

Bravo!

ali this time...

'Yes, inverse snobbery from one of the people who is part of the 'problem' of gentrification. Admitting that she is part of the problem doesn't make it magically go away, it just makes the writer a bit of a hypocrite, projecting & demonising the "other" gentrifiers; you know, the bad ones over there, the ones not keepin' it real in the 'hood.'

Bravo! Bravo!

This phenomena I first experienced while travelling to poor countries, and caused me considerable angst when I identified that was part of the attraction for me. You can add that in with hating 'tourists' while I was doing the exact same thing whilst spending less money in the country than they were.

Luckily the crisis was easily averted by a quick rationalisation that I didn't barter for goods like some.

Phew!

Not sure about this drink, but if you wait till the next greens meeting,or ALP conference the lefts group will know.
They arrive in a VW Combi high heels, men too, and look a bit up them selves .

Well clearly Elizabeth Farrelly does not mind Redfern's rich tapestry. Excuse the cliche but the opening post is a bit of cliche really - Chardonnay again. Maybe next time Latte. :)

I don't know much about Redfern other than from old news about the NSW Government clearing out some of the homeless and Indigenous groups prior to the Olympic Games. Governments are good at putting a shallow gloss on things instead of addressing the problems. Can't let the foreigners see how things really are.

I also don't know that much about Redfern, even
though I'm originally from the Western suburbs of
Sydney (Parramatta/Wentworthville). Redfern was
simply a train-station on the way to the city -
like Strathfield/Ashfield et cetera. It was much
later that I read about the Wiradjuri woman from
Cowra in central-western New South Wales,
Colleen Shirley Smith, known to everyone as "Mum Shirl."

It seems that over the years Mum Shirl influenced
Father Ted Kennedy at Saint Vincent's parish in Redfern
when he turned the resources of the church over to
caring for dispossessed urban Aborigines.

Mum Shirl's work at St Vincent's evolved into an informal
welfare agency for a mixed clientele of ex-prisoners,
children in need, single parents, alcoholics, and young
probationers. With no money of her own, Mum Shirl often
ran her services on her own sickness benefits and according
to several articles, by the 1990s Mum Shirl had assisted
some 6000 people.

I imagine that Redfern today would be an interesting mix
of people - a unique inner city suburb with its own history.
A place that so many call home and love - as the author of
the given link obviously does.

If Elizabeth Farrelly is fair dinkum about…

"I'm sorry to see them go, the toothless drunks, the heaving hookers, the foetal alcohol boys and the rooming-house ladies."

Couldn't she just find out where they've relocated and move there herself?

The Chardonnay was just for you pelican. Tou-Che!

The terms for lefties are brilliant, and Liz really suits them to a tee.

As do you peli, even though you're more of a basket weaver I imagine:-)

'rich tapestry'

It brings about the general point of the paternalism of the left. I always find the preservation of culture by the left interesting. Now if the culture is ant-western all the better, but I am of the opinion keeping people away from the filthy IPods is a bit much. and what of the FGM, that's part of the 'culture'. Shouldn't it be preserved? Oh, only the good parts, the parts that are novel from the perspective of our culture, not the barbaric ones.

'I imagine that Redfern today would be an interesting mix
of people - a unique inner city suburb with its own history.
A place that so many call home and love'

Not for long Lexi. It's only half way through the process of raising the rents and property values so only the Yuppies will be living there. Then somewhere more trendy will be swamped next, when more little Liz's decide they need to 'add a little colour to her middle-class life'.

Good suggestion Trevor, I think she should move to Penrith, and introduce them to the arts! She could create a the-atre, and get to enjoy the culture of Panther's Leagues.

Wow Lexi, that does explain a lot.

We thought we were pretty adventurous moving from "the shire" to out west of Bankstown, back in the early 60s, but hell, we still took on a shotgun guard, & an outrider if we were going much west of Parramatta, & a full troupe of cavalry as escort if getting out to Blacktown.

The bush rangers were pretty thick out there back then.

Come to think of it, they are still pretty thick, just they have moved into real estate offices, & law practices, the better to rip you off.

In fact those now middle suburbs are now, probably, much more dangerous & deadly than Redfern.

If I were still a young bloke, I'd probably build an elevated walkway, [like those in the rainforest these days], through Redfern, so tourists could wonder at both the roughies, & the Latte set in close proximity.

Dear Houellebecq,

I guess that's the norm now for inner-city suburbs.
They all tend to go the way of Paddington, Abbotsford,
(here in Melbourne)et cetera. Even St. Kilda has changed
greatly from what it was a decade ago.

Dear Hasbeen,

I remember when we first moved to Melbourne - I hated it
I thought they were all a bunch of snobs.
And I actually pined for Sydney. I haven't been to
Parramatta for years let alone Wenty (Wentworthville).
It would be interesting to go back and see what my
reaction today would be.

Lexi try Google earth.

My first house in Sydney in 1960 was an old workers cottage in Fairfield Heights. Evidently it was a cottage on a vineyard in the early days. It was the same as a couple of my neighbours homes in that little dirt street, only 100 yards from the bush covering most of the area.

It was only 4 rooms, including the bathroom/laundry. It cost the huge sum of 2000 pounds, so you can imagine it was not too luxurious. I had a regular problem with the Kikuyu grass blocking the rubble drain.

I recently took a tour of the area by Google earth, & was surprised but not amazed to find that my little house, with it's little out house down the back, which occupied just a quarter of the block is gone.

However I was not expecting a 2 story Mcmansion in its place, covering 95% of the space, surrounded by similar palaces for miles.

I'm afraid our old outer areas of Sydney are now inner suburbs, holding no attraction for me. I do wonder if any of my English Scottish & Maltese neighbours are still around there, or if like me, are long gone.

Dear Hasbeen,

My brother suggested Google Earth to me some time ago.
However I keep putting it off because I've heard from
other people that our street has gone a bit - "up market,"
ever since the Westmead Children's Hospital opened up
and doctors and other medical staff have been buying up
big in the area.

Ours was just a three bedroom fibro
cottage, separate lounge, dining room, kitchen, laundry
bathroom and toilet, and a large front porch and back verandah.
The yard was generous - and dad loved his front and back gardens.

It was modest. But it was home - and I have the best childhood
memories. Our neighbours were mostly Irish, Scots, and English.

One day - I shall re-visit my street in person. I would love
it if there would be at least one neighbour still around who
would remember either me or my family. Dad was quite popular.
Everyone loved "Andy."

'Chardonnay' I thought I heard you calling.

I have to confess I get such a rush of joy from a Houlley cut-through-the-bull post.

It is one of the reasons I keep coming back. A Houlley post is like waiting for your favourite reality TV show (but so much better) to come on, popcorn at the ready, caramelised of course. The little teasing and tantalising chardonnay baits put out to lure and tempt just that little bit - also part of OLO life's rich tapestry.

Heh heh, love the bean shoot eating, wholegrain basket weaving, sandal wearing stereotypes too.

C'mon Houlley aren't you doing the same thing in reverse. :P

Dear Pelly,

I've got to confess that Houellebecq used to get
up my nose - something chronic with many of his
posts. Then he'd go and post something absolutely
brilliant. He's still someone who's rather difficult
to fathom at times - but perhaps that's part of the
enigma that he is. He is unique. I used to think he had
a big ego - but I now realise that he's too cool for
that.

Ooh goody, it seems we've got ourselves a Houellie fan club. (I'm president, so it's my great pleasure to welcome you gals into the fold :)

Seriously, this fella, should be writing a book. I've been nagging him for a while to do just that. That's not to say that his barbs don't occasionally hit a sensitive spot, and I've had to verbally club him on several occasions to put him back in his place - not that it worked, but it was fun trying.

Just on the subject of places of residence. My family apparently used to live at Avalon, but we migrated to WA before I turned two. From that time on my dad cultivated his penchant for gambling and drinking and disposing of the family's money...so by the time I was eleven we were renting a "flatette" which consisted of three sparse rooms in a grand old house that had been split up into rooms and flats to accommodate the down at heel. The upshot was that because dad had never got over the fact that his family had been well-to-do, that our flat was in one of the best suburbs in Perth - Cottesloe. So we were as poor as church mice, but I had this wonderful suburb to traverse. I loved being there. I've been back since and the house for the down-at-heel has been restored to its former glory, now a private residence. "My corner of the world" still seems almost the same forty years on.

Careful you three… Whatever you're stroking may not be Mr H's ego – and then you may just have to brace yourselves for what comes your way as a consequence.

Or as I overheard one matron say at a party, "They say one day your Prince will come, but when he's come and gone, you know you've had it!"

Wm Trevor,

I don't expect for a moment that Houellie will "take this lying down". He'll be slightly affronted by we three maidens declaring our secret admiration for his style. In fact, he'll probably see it as a cunning plan to disarm his potency. I imagine he'll have his cynic-o-meter working flat out to counter our swoons.

Only a genius of such standing can bring us back to our senses - like a waft of smelling salts to a Victorian maiden. We await your salts Houellie Esq.

There is something very likeable about Houlley but I think the idea of a fan club might offend his sensibilities and make him blush.

pelican,

That goes without saying.

But he has made an art of throwing a spanner in the works of the most oiled and smoothly operating "sensibiities" - I'm sure he'll come up with something to defend himself : )

We're not stroking his ego or compensating for anything - we
simply find him interesting.

Now back on topic ...

The following link may be of some interest:

http://redfernoralhistory.org/News/News2012/tabid/291/Default.aspx

How local people talk about Redfern.

Well, having revisited my enthusiasm and, as Lexi and Pelly feel that Houellie is merely interesting and somewhat prone to blushing, it seems I was a tad too playful here yesterday. Obviously suffering from too much OLO of late.

I'll just show myself out....carry on : )

Dear Poirot,

No, No, No. don't go!

As the old adage goes - "One person with passion
is better than several people merely interested."

s'okay, Lexi...I do get carried away sometimes : )

Dear Poirot,

Yeah, we know, and we think that's great!
;-)

Lexi do be careful of visiting "the old place", it can be disappointing.

My father built a house in Bathurst, with me sort of helping, in the early 50s. It took years. On a trip to Bathurst a while back, for one of those old racing drivers reliving their youth things, I went to have a look at it. It wasn't there, & neither were most of the houses in the road.

Evidently it flooded a few times, & the government helped move the houses.

I then went to see the house we built on our orchard at Young. What had been orchards & a horse stud was all houses. I drove up & down the road, trying to find our old place, but could not definitely recognise it.

When people were obviously unhappy at my driving up & down the road, I stopped to talk to them. Inside I could recognise the place, but now in suburbia, with a few additions, I had not been too sure.

I could not find our old place in Caringbah either. I think it might be under one of the six pack of flats that are everywhere, in the area. So, I'm afraid, going back can be a disappointment.

I should imagine many of the old Redfern residents feel the same way.

Dear Hasbeen,

You're probably right about going back to places
where we spent our youth. Memories tend to be
rose-coloured and the reality is often quite different.
I remember our old Catholic Church in Wenworthville -
and the beautiful wooden-cross above the main altar.
Such beautiful wood - and so simple and elegant.

My brother tells me that the beautiful simple wooden
cross is still there - but so much has been added to it.
They've painted the beautiful wood (bright pink and blue)
- hung a tassled circus-like multi-coloured canopy above the cross.
Painted all the individual wooden stations of the cross - in bright
primary colours - and totally destroyed all of the elegance
and simplicity that existed previously.

Still, the heart wants what the heart wants - and I would like
to see my old house just one more time. What if its still
there and as lovely as it was? Silly, I know.

Hassie, your memories have inspired me to tuck back into a
few of my own. Imagine this ...

Standing in the middle of a snow-field early in the morning,
with a thick white fog all around you - no sound to be heard
and nothing to see but white - all around. A solitary figure
in total emptiness.

Or - sitting in the middle of a large green meadow on top of
a hill, with a bright blue sky above, no sign of trees or
distant views - to be seen. Just you, the green below, and
blue above.

Not at all Poirot. Playful is good, better than getting too serious sometimes. Most of all enjoy life. :)

I think the attraction to Houlley's posts (if I can put it like that in purely platonic terms) is his ability to cut through the bull and while he sits at a different place to me ideologically, it is refreshing for this cynical 50-something who has spent too much time in government and around politicians, to witness some straight talking for a change.