On Warrandyte -

What is it with Warrandyte? - full of fading hippies who didn't quite achieve the mudbrick nirvana that Australians know and love as Eltham, but settled for the lesser 'burb, whose citizens only move in their own elevated social circles, and as a result end up dizzy and still in Warrandyte. Such a plethora of ageing university lecturers, lesbian potters and slightly louche middle-aged men in green shorts and whiskers suggests that if the world has not already passed them by, it soon will.
Whatever - Warrandyte was recently host to the 23rd most important Recorder Master Class in the civilised world, an event which, had you known it was to occur, would have had you drooling with anticipation. Drooling being a feature of the recorder apparently, and possibly of the lesbian potters as well, I wouldn't know.
I am deeply indebted to Marion for some (almost none) of this information, which made the pleasure of hearing her play piano at the Sunday arvo jam all the greater. Stinking hot (the weather, not Marion, but then again still waters run deep) and an afternoon of gentle ballads from the likes of Col (Capo di capo), Frank, Taariq, Glen on drums, Debbie (on gin and tonic), La Stewart on tonsil (a rare and radiant foray due to her having a private gig next week), Jack the Lad on trombone, and Kevin on guitar.
Highlight of the day, for me, was Taariq getting the groove going for Feelin' Good. We agreed at the end that it almost sounded like real music. Not like yer average jam at all really.
Apparently POCKOTL*   turned up late, having been mysteriously delayed by traffic in Warrandyte or somewhere, and clutching a magnificent glazed pot. Or not as the case may be, I wouldn't know, I wasn't there




* POCKOTL: Princess of Cool, Keeper of the List