My Grand Final prediction from 12 years ago

Take a look at this Photoshopped image. I made it way back in September 2009 for a friend's birthday card.

 
As you can see, he was/is a Richmond Tigers supporter. And as you can also see, it has today's date on it. I was predicting 12 years ago that Richmond would win a Grand Final in the year 2021, which was a pretty long shot as far as predictions go, because Richmond weren't all that good in 2009.

But! It wasn't all bad, because I managed to get the date of the match correct. And also because Richmond managed to play in, and win, three Grand Finals before 2021, even if they were nowhere to be seen this year.

Bonus points: Can you spot me in the image?

The Terrace, Mooroolbark: Frozen in time

Mooroolbark is a north-eastern suburb of Melbourne which apparently experienced its biggest growth in the 1980s and '90s. It's most known (to an interloper like me at least) for having this weird setup where three roundabouts are squished together. Just look at this abomination:

Seriously, how are you even meant to tackle this?

But that's not the purpose of this post. I came to Mooroolbark to see a shopping centre called The Terrace. Locals all know about it, but I hadn't heard of the place until just over a month ago, when I read on Reddit about it. It's a shopping centre that is not exactly disused or abandoned, but fell out of use years ago, yet continues to keep operating.

After I read the comments about it on Reddit I came across this video by Tim Norman of Stormofilms which was made in May 2019, and which gave me some additional information (and let me see what The Terrace was like in pre-COVID times).

The Terrace was built in 1981, right across the road from Mooroolbark Village (a small row of shops along Brice Avenue), and adjacent to Hookey Park. It opened in 1982, and housed 24 stores such as Treasurway, Replace-A-Film, Microbee (a shop that sold 8-bit computers), and Bojangles Music — very '80s name there — later known as CD Haven.

Here's what The Terrace looks like from the outside. It's got a large car park with 900 spaces, to service commuters using Mooroolbark station across the road, but it's pretty much empty. The surroundings at the front look tidy, with no litter or graffiti, and neatly-trimmed hedges.

That's not to say graffiti has never been a problem at The Terrace — the public toilets inside have been the worst hit over the years. One year they spent $26,000 on cleaning up the toilets alone. Now they keep them locked to keep out vandals and druggies.

You'll notice from that large archway sign that there is a Bendigo Bank on the premises, formerly a Westpac. That sign has covered up many smaller signs which can be seen in Tim Norman's video, which listed each business found inside. Coming up the ramp, you find yourself at the sliding doors of the main entrance.

Unlike most suburban shopping centres, The Terrace has not been refurbished or renovated at all since it was built (with the possible exception of the childcare centre, which seemed tacked-on to the side after the fact). As a result, the interior decor is just as it was back in 1982, with the patterned light-brown lino untouched, as well as the ceilings. The fluorescent-tube lights were on, despite no one being around, and a lot of light actually gets in thanks to the large skylight which you can see above. 

Apparently there are a number of poems written by students stuck to the window of the centre kiosk, which are "post-apocalyptically depressing", according to one Reddit user.

On the right in the above photo is Stay Tuned Electronics, which still has CRT television sets and record players on its shelves. Most of these shops are shuttered up and only 12 of them are open — in fact none of them are currently open because Melbourne is under lockdown.

The Terrace was a busy place once. Then-PM Bob Hawke showed up there in 1987 for some event, but apparently its busiest day was when childrens' TV character Humphrey B. Bear appeared live there. (Poor old Bob. Having to settle for being The Terrace's second-biggest guest star to a man in a sweaty costume made of recycled bathmats.) Anyway, in its heyday The Terrace hosted a number of events, footy players giving handballing lessons to kids, and even a food festival in recent years, even with some of the shops empty.

I am not sure when exactly The Terrace began to decline, but it was probably well on its way by 2017 when its supermarket closed. There was also once a garden centre there. The entrance to it was a large roller door, which you can see on the left in the photo below. Mikayla van Loon reported in the Lilydale Star Mail of July 20, 2021 that Chirnside Park shopping centre, which offered more variety, as well as heating and air-conditioning (which The Terrace apparently doesn't have?), is one of the reasons The Terrace fell behind. A larger shopping centre, Eastland, isn't too far away either.

It seems The Terrace's shop owners couldn't compete with the customers heading over to Chirnside Park, so they either relocated there or closed down.

The next photo is the loading bay for the supermarket, which as you can see was once called KFL. There was a bit of graffiti here, but no more than your typical Melbourne bus stop, really. One tag said "Oops!" which I found rather amusing (though infantile).

Next you see here Terry's Meats, the butcher on the corner. It closed in May 2019, not long after Tim Norman filmed his video. The only reason I'm mentioning it is because of the "2 Dollar" sign you see here — another relic of the past. This isn't the only piece of old signage still visible: if you look closely you can still make out where the "Treasurway" used to be on the front brickwork.

With Melbourne's property market being the way it is, why hasn't this unused retail space been taken over by developers? Why has this shopping centre stood largely untouched since the day it was made? I don't know anything about how strata title works, but from what I understand, Coles supermarkets owns a number of shops in the centre (the Lilydale Star Mail says it is "a couple"), and have prevented any redevelopments from taking place. Otherwise their rivals Woolworths would move in to challenge the supremacy of the Coles across the road from The Terrace.

After the supermarket there (which at the time was an IGA) closed down in May 2017 — a significant loss for the ailing Terrace, as its major drawcard was no longer there — Woolworths made an $11 million bid to redevelop the site, which was then stymied by a competitor. I wonder who that could have been? 

This wasn't the only bid Woolworths has made; in fact they have made several since 2016. But it has been difficult to get everyone on board, since each shop is individually owned. And apparently every time Woolies makes such a bid, the price goes up, so they seem to have got fed up with the idea.

So, as long as Coles holds ownership, no redevelopment can ever take place. And so The Terrace still stands there. And stands there.

But who knows? Right at this moment the Mooroolbark train station is being rebuilt as a result of Victoria's level crossing removal project, so when the new station is built, perhaps the topic of redeveloping The Terrace site will be brought up.

Until then, it will remain frozen in time.

TOKYO 2020 – The Closing

And after 17 days, it's all over. Tonight the Games of the XXXII Olympiad conclude, and all things considered, it seems to have gone very well. Obviously the roar of the crowd is integral to an Olympic final, but there have been plenty of memorable moments without it. The Games hit an emotional note that has been missing from many peoples' lives.

I'm not a sporty guy – you'll never see me sweating it out in a field. But I do enjoy watching the Olympic Games, and not just to see GOLD GOLD GOLD FOR 'STRAYA either. Couldn't give a toss about that. Take yer medal tally and shove it up yer catflap, matey. No, I watch it for the drama, and the raw human emotion, not just the joy but the defeat, the adversity and the heartbreak. The upsets, the records being broken, and the medal winners appearing in breakfast cereal ads for the next three years.

The theme of the closing ceremony is 'Worlds We Share' which feels more optimistic than the opening ceremony. The theme for that was 'United By Emotions', which deals with people sharing moments they cannot be physically together for. The opening on July 23 was more about history and tradition; it acknowledged the impact of COVID, the role of essential workers, and the fact that 30 year old tunes from Sonic games still warm the cockles of my shrivelled joyless soul. So! How will the closing differ from this? Will it be more celebratory than its precursor? Come and join me, and let's find out. Ha~i, sutaato!

 

August 8, 8:03pm (Japan time). And we're off. Please stand for some random salaryman Prince Akihino. The music playing in the background is from Tokyo Story. I've never seen that film. I know, I know – I have no right to call myself Japanese, right? The melancholy music reinforces the sad sight of the empty stadium seats.

8:08. Kimigayo time. Then the flag-bearers enter. As stated at the opening ceremony, the Olympic motto has been modified to "Faster, higher, stronger, together". Hopefully the Canadians won't mistake the male Australian flag-bearer for a woman this time, the wallies.

8:21. The athletes now enter. Hey, there's the flag of the Philippines, who won their first gold medal at Tokyo 2020 after competing in the Olympics since 1924. In womens' weightlifting, no less. There were three countries who won their first ever Olympic medal at these games: Burkina Faso, San Marino, and Turkmenistan. People of all nations intermingling in Tokyo, relaxed and having fun — it reminds me of my JET Programme orientation 20 years ago! Except these guys will be heading off to quarantine and not to distribute Mr. Sparkle in their home prefecture.

8:43. All is quiet in the stadium as particles of light cascade from the stadium roof to form the Olympic rings. I have no idea how they did that. Good stuff.

8:46. A band starts playing, and hey! It's the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra! I remember them from my days living in Japan. Someone made a great call in getting these guys to play. Their upbeat, high-energy set is perfect for this atmosphere. One of the songs in their medley is Kyu Sakamoto's "Ue O Muite Arukou", and it's the band playing, but with Sakamoto's original vocals. Very cool.

Later note: I've since seen comments criticizing this choice of music, saying it "wasn't Japanese enough". What would they have preferred? Enka?

9:05. The medal presentation ceremonies for the womens' and mens' marathons, both won by Kenya. Good on yer, Eliud Kipchoge.

9:33. Wait — did I hear my former home prefecture Gifu mentioned?! Well, yes actually. There's a snippet of video showing the Gujo-odori, accompanied by a song called "Harukoma" which I still remember even now. Cutting back to the stadium, a live singer performs a song for the O-Bon festival dance. I didn't think the Sonic song could be topped, but my former home town region of Gujo being part of the ceremony is the definite highlight of the night.

9:44. The Olympic flag is handed over from Tokyo to Paris. Bonne chance, Parisiennes. Better get those rioters sorted out in the next 3 years, eh? And give those anti-vaxxers a dose of the old water cannon while you're at it.

10:18. The segments of the cauldron close up as the flame goes out, followed by a final blast of fireworks and the word 'ARIGATO' lit up on a dot matrix-style LED screen. It would be nice if the screen also included a picture of the coronavirus with the 'middle finger' emoji next to it, but I can see why that idea wouldn't be popular.

And now, it's all over. Go home. Do something else with your lives. Be great. Eat your vegetables. Brush your teeth. Arigato.

Thanks to Mai for the first two photos.

20 years since my first day in Japan

The eyes of sports fans around the world are on Tokyo right now, and on this day 20 years ago, I arrived in Japan for the first time. I was 23 years old, having had my uni graduation only three months prior. Here are my recollections of my first three days in Tokyo.

The hot and humid Sunday morning of August 5, 2001 is my first day in a country I had previously only come into contact with through Japanese classes, soaking up the culture by proxy. My involvement was typical; outings to Japanese restaurants, watching a low-res bootleg of someone’s ‘fan-subbed’ anime video, and hosting an exchange student named Gaku – the first Japanese person I ever met. Filed away in my mind during that period was the notion of Japan as the country responsible for video games, lurid cartoons, martial arts and electronic gadgets, all produced by overworked businessmen.

As the Perth group of twenty English teachers-to-be stagger off the plane into the Tokyo dawn, our suitcases are tagged and forwarded to our respective prefectures. Our first day in Japan has barely reached the breakfast hour and the humidity is enough to wilt flowers. I manage to board the coach first, where I stretch out and fall asleep on the back row of seats.

When I awake we are no longer in Chiba prefecture where Narita Airport is. We are now surrounded by towering skyscrapers on all sides in the Tokyo district of Shinjuku. The name means ‘New Lodgings’. New indeed. There are probably enough buildings to house the entire population of Australia. The gleam from the windows do a good job of temporarily blinding us as the coach pulls silently up to the Tokyo Hilton Hotel, and it is there that our group splits up. Several people are deposited there, and at the next stop, the Century Hyatt Hotel, me, my new friend Chris, then 31, and a third guy get off the bus. The three of us are escorted up to the eleventh floor.  

Chris and I look at the big brass keys in our hands and see they both bear the number 1120. We open the door to find two beds and a third bed folded out from the couch. Dropping our luggage on the beds, we stare out of the large window into Shinjuku Chuuou Kouen (Central Park) across the road. Our remaining roommate arrives after twenty minutes; Deane, from Christchurch, New Zealand. He is 28, making me the youngest of the three, but we have a lot in common. We are all bound for Gifu prefecture, and none of us have been to Japan before. In the centre of the huge expanse of trees beyond our window is a small paved area where a second-hand market buzzes with activity. To the rear is a small waterfall. You can see this below in the first photo I took in Japan, from the hotel room window.

Deane then falls asleep, so Chris and I decide to go outside and have a look around. Outside, we cross a footbridge over the road, and then over a smaller one named the Rainbow Bridge, and find ourselves in the park. The air rings with the buzzing of cicadas coming deafeningly from every tree. On the ground, people doze on mats with mosquito coils burning beside them. Chris and I do a quick lap of the market, and look at the waterfall which is named ‘Shinjuku Niagara’. We then head past the massive Keio Plaza Hotel and back to our own.

Deane is still asleep. About 11:30 the phone rings. Chris answers it, saying “Moshi moshi”. He is excited to be using the Japanese phone greeting for the first time. It is my family calling from back in Perth. I drink some water and lie down. The phone rings again; Chris’ friend Tetsu from Nagoya is in town. While Chris gets ready to meet him, I fall asleep.

I wake up to find Chris gone and Deane awake. It is already 5:30 p.m. I suggest to Deane we have a wander round, and he says he wants to go for a run in the park. In the lobby Deane runs into some of his Kiwi friends, and we stand and chinwag for several minutes before heading out towards the humid metropolis. As we pass the park, we see the sellers have now all gone. Only a few kids doing stunts on BMXs and a couple playing badminton with no net, remain. We head through the underground tunnels of Shinjuku Station and emerge into the nightlife on the other side. The sky is dark, the neon signs are pulsating, and cars choke the roads. The vivid colours and cartoon caricatures tease the eye; the flashing lights never stop. Shop stereos blast J-Pop, the perky and upbeat genre of mainstream pop music, as giant video screens on the side of buildings blare and glare with slick animated commercials.

Once again we stop to take it all in. Deane also remains silent, and he must be thinking what I am. I have seen this city depicted in a dozen anime films and TV series: as a mutated post-nuclear mega-tropolis in Akira; as a crime ridden psycho-zone in Burn Up W and as a carefree nighttime playground for ne’er-do-wells in Taihou Shichauzo (“You’re Under Arrest”). Now that I have ended up here I can see it for what it is: all of the above and more.

It may seem unbelievable in the era of smartphone cameras (and in the era of digital cameras before it), but I only took two photos on my first day in Japan – taken with my somewhat naff Olympus film camera. And the second photo wasn't even taken by me. It showed Deane and I in the hotel room and was taken by Chris.

Deane says he will head back to the park for a run, so I continue on up a stairway, through a shopping precinct and down a crowded inner-city street. Crowded is not the word, although obviously I just used it. There are 325 people per square kilometre in Japan. For ten minutes I stare around me glaze-eyed at such sights as a punk in chain-mail; a girl with him in ‘Goth Lolita’ get-up; people sending text messages as they wait to cross the street; piles of discarded magazines on meter boxes; calling cards of prostitutes in phone boxes, each one featuring a manga character; trash bags piled up on the kerb and a noticeable lack of rubbish bins; and the ever-present hordes of gaijin (foreigners).

The katakana word geemu (game) on a sign catches my eye and I follow the arrow down into a seedy video game arcade. A large fan is on full speed, barely ruffling the addled gamers’ mohawks. A few of the cabinets are just excuses for full-frontal cartoon nudity. Back in the street, I spot the pink HMV logo on the side of a building some distance away. I head towards it in the scrum of flawlessly-attired Tokyo-ites. I reach the Takashimaya Department Store, and get the lift up to the twelfth floor. Entering the massive store, I am surrounded by millions of CDs on shelves, and take a stunned moment to scan the signs above them to seek out the correct genre, which are written in English.

Even after eight years of learning Japanese I’d never bothered to learn the order of the hiragana so locating my favourite Japanese band Shonen Knife is a tad difficult. I eventually find two of their albums and scurry off to the checkout where a youth awaits me. The two CDs come to over 6000 yen – about a hundred dollars in Australian money – but my dedication to Shonen Knife refuses to let this fact sink in. Tax is not included in the stated price, which means you can never have the exact change ready. I hand over a 10,000 yen note, and he returns the change and receipt on a small metal tray. Then, producing a small card and a leaflet, he begins to explain something. I stand there and pretend to be in the know, but I do manage to surmise that he is giving me a loyalty card, with five points for every CD purchased. Luckily, part of the leaflet is in English. He swipes my card and I collect five points. I thank him and leave, my first real-life informal interaction with a Japanese person in Japan completed satisfactorily.

I have no problem getting from Takashimaya to the shopping precinct I first entered but from there I am lost. I decide to trudge down some back alleys in the hope that they somehow lead back to my hotel, but of course they don’t. I go around the block and end up on the main road. Finding one’s way is different to back home; directions in Japan are usually given by block numbers and landmarks. Most streets don’t have names; only main thoroughfares have them. Trying the opposite direction this time, I catch sight of a McDonald’s (where else), go in and order a meal. Ah, a familiar gaijin ritual. It takes them a while to make the burger, so I am given a free small Coke while I wait. I pay with a 500 yen coin. It feels strange to pay for a whole meal with one coin. As I eat, I watch a live music show on a large video screen.

Back out into the warm night I go, sticking to the main roads and find my hotel using the maps on the roadside. Chris has just returned from a place called Asakusa, and Deane has brewed some coffee which he bought from a convenience store called ampm. “Did you find the CD you were looking for?” Deane asks. I say yes, showing him my copy of Strawberry Sound. “Sweet!” he says, in that easy-going Kiwi way. How appropriate (and also inevitable) that my first purchase in Japan were two Shonen Knife CDs.

I was completely dead beat at this point, so I fell asleep without dwelling on the fact that this was my first night in Japan, with a year of living there ahead of me. But I've never forgotten that day. I was grateful to use it by going out and exploring. Perhaps the JET Programme organizers gave us that day to get used to our new surroundings.

 

A 'selfie' (even though the term hadn't been invented yet) in the Tokyo district of Akihabara,
August 7th 2001. I really felt like I had stepped into the future. 

 

Back on August 5, 2011, I chatted with Chris on the occasion of the 10th anniversary of our Japan arrival. "Wow, doesn't time fly," he said, and I hope he won't mind me reproducing his comments here. "I want to go back in time. Back to 2001."

I asked him what he remembered about that first day. "It was like a sauna!" he said. "I remember walking around Shinjuku overwhelmed. The hotel was very nice. Luckily we had good room mates, me, you and Deane. I think everyone slept that evening. I didn't, I met a Japanese friend and we went to Asakusa. I somehow felt OK the next day. We had to be careful, being hillbillies from Perth, haha."

I just reminded Chris this evening about it being 20 years. "Happy 20th JET-iversary!" he said. "Don't throw away those photos and journals. We can talk about it when we are 80! I think I didn't take a photo that day. Most were so tired and slept. Was it just three of us in the [hotel] room? We were lucky, us three. We all got along so well. Never easy staying in a room with people you don't know. I knew you so it was easy."

China 5 – "Crocodile"

Hey, a new China 5 video? Really and for true? Well, no. China 5 ceased operations in 2020, and thanks so much to the 46 people out there who listened to our songs. Well, I'm sure it was more than 46 – one of our songs ("Too Many Sushi") got nearly 10,000 plays back in the MySpace Music days...

Anyway, this is a video for the song "Crocodile", from the 4th China 5 album Republic, from 2008. This is the only China 5 song to have appeared on a compilation album! It was called Vs. The World Volume 4 and it was released in 2009.

So, why make a video for an old song from days of yore? Well, the video was originally made in 2008, but the edit was only recently completed due to the finding of some lost footage. It was a real mind trip to see this old rubbish valuable material from the past again, and has finally been reinstated into the video which it belonged.

Because of the delay in this video's release (13 years isn't that long, is it?), the version of the song isn't the one that appeared on Republic, nor is it the version that appeared on Vs. The World. It is a remastered version – Republic was remastered in January 2020, and that's the version you'll hear in this video.

Thanks to all who helped me make the video: Alfie, Leftie Lampton, Gripper Stebson, and Dougie.