For the best part of six moths I happily went along listening to Spotify and Pandora as a paid subscriber. I discovered new music and old favourites. Amazingly convenient and almost no song not available. Rented music seemed the answer to my almost insatiable love of music.
Then a few weeks ago I had a change of heart sparked by a chance listening to a radio program with The Beatles biographer, Mark Lewisohn which sparked a desire to listen to The Beatles from start to finish and I wanted to own them, not rent them.
So it was back to the CD Shop and a resumption of a long term passion of purchasing music again. It was like running into an old friend. Seeing what was new, browsing the CD racks for something interesting and then the bargain bins with each visit usually resulting in a purchase. The result is that since purchasing The Beatles Boxed Set I have bought a few more CDs and it’s been fun. I doubt I will buy as many CDs as I did in the past, but I know for sure that my love for owning my music burns deep. Renting is convenient but just not the same.
Second Valley is located on the western shore of Fleurieu Peninsula and is surely one of the most beautiful spots in South Australia. The natural beauty of the undulating hills and the rugged coastline is always picturesque whether seen in the dry of summer or the green of winter.
So says Ron Blum as he opens his book The Second Valley A History of Second Valley South Australia
It was during the public ride for the Tour Down Under that I really discovered Second Valley. A day which was so far beyond hot it didn’t matter. I had cramp early in the ride not surprising given it was 40c plus and which made all of the hills a major challenge. The road was melting under my wheels!
I reached Leonard’s Mill and sat in the shade simply to recover before attempting yet another hill. One which on a normal day would have been simple. While I was sitting there a group of locals rolled out of the pub after a cold beer and had a chat. I must have looked quite a sight!
In any event, I took a mental note of the place as we searched for a new beach house. We had a place at Aldinga but Continue reading →
It is a selfish reflection as browney237.com turns One. My blog is a personal writing space, and has reflected my own journey over the last twelve months: a period of transition.
I remember sitting at the beach house the Sunday after Adelaide narrowly lost the 2012 AFL Preliminary Final feeling quite unsettled. That feeling was not a product of the narrow loss but my continued reflection on my firm’s transition to retirement seminar, “Pinnacle”or as I refer to it, “God’s Waiting Room”, which we had attended a couple of weeks before.
Football seems to be more about the money than the game itself.
As a South Australian I am used to the very occasional Friday Night game in Adelaide, inconvenient scheduling when compared to Collingwood, Essendon, Geelong and Hawthorn; I can’t remember the last time we had a holiday Monday game in Adelaide. It does seem that if you are not from Melbourne you don’t matter as after all that is where the money is.
The latest example is the seemingly grudging appreciation by the AFL’s CEO of the efforts of Freemantle and more particularly Port Adelaide
I was listening to the 1969 Marmalades’ hit Reflections of my Life on Spotify.
It’s a forgotten classic by a band from Glasgow, however as I listened to it this time around, it was with quite different ears to those of the 12 year old who bought it in 1970 as a 45. I don’t think it was just being forty plus years older that gave the song a different feel.
It is a very melancholy song. For me, as with so many others, a couple of lines stood out,
The world is a bad place, a bad place
A terrible place to live, oh but I don’t wanna die.
Given the song was written at the height of the Vietnam War its anti war sentiment is easy to understand as is the reference to the the world as a bad and terrible place. This time around though, it was not the Vietnam War that I was thinking about when I listened to the song, but a photo I had seen on our recent trip. I could neither get the photograph or the lines out of my head.
The photo is on display at the Topography of Terror in Berlin,