There were a couple of thought provoking comments on my post about Royal gays.

From a young age I was very attracted to men in a way I did not initially understand but at puberty it became quite clear but without any kind of physical clarity. I wanted men, but I did not know in what manner and what was involved. 

At some point I realised that there was a connection between limp wristed effeminate men on tv to my desires, but that did not seem to be me.

I realised gay sex between men was illegal in most Australian states and was then and is illegal now in many parts of the world.  

When I was a young gay man, gay men, and certainly me, were always seeking validation of their sexuality. A public figure coming out as gay was so important. It was a case of 'I'm not the only one in the world. Even famous people can be gay'. Every actor, every musician, every judge, every politician, every sportsperson, every famous person, dead or alive who was gay, gave me a validation for who I am.

And now even in my senior years, I still seek that affirmation that being gay is ok, and there are many of us, even Royal people. Each time I hear someone vaguely famous or extremely well known for high achievements, it further validates my sexuality. Many gay men my age will think like this, and sadly many younger men still will

Even despotic rulers like King Mwanga II of Uganda in the 19th century could be openly gay, stands.

Though perhaps not J Edgar Hoover, once the director the the US FBI. More modern gay people be pretty awful.

Tough gay sportspeople score extra points, for distancing effeminate gay stereotypes from uber masculine men, not that there's anything wrong with effeminate gay men, although I do have my own prejudices by way of 'no one loves a fairy over forty'. You just have to be able to carry it off honey.

A few year ago Australian soccer star Josh Cavallo came out as gay.

This year an ex Australian Rules Football player came out, one Mitch Brown, although he claims bisexuality. Photo from Star Observer.

Phyllis went off to work before ten, carrying a new broom. He had taken a new broom to work two days ago, and of course I made the dad joke, is that your transport to work today? He wanted the first broom for use at work, and his boss' wife was so impressed with the broom, she wanted one. 

Phyllis and Kosov have both being working hard, and Kosov studying hard too. No time for housework at home. They were in bed early Tuesday night, and both slept long, with Kosov waking up with a still sleepy look that can only be seen in young people after 11 hours of sleep. 

I wanted to buy something for Sister, a commemorative pack of coins and a pin for the 100th anniversary of her AFL team, Hawthorn. For some reason it was not listed on the Australia Post website, who was selling it among other such overpriced memorabilia. I tried two city post offices and they only received one each and both had been sold. I am not sure if I will persist. Maybe I can order it over the phone, or fill in a form and order it by mail. Dear oh dear. What a backward step that would be.

In frustration at our Logitech keyboard, a few years ago we bought a new one. The old one kept not connecting with the computer via the wireless system. The newer one was no better. We returned it and bought a more expensive one of the same brand. It too would disconnect from the computer. If I moved it closer to the computer, it would work. If I inserted a USB stick, that drove the keyboard and mouse crazy. Once in frustration, I picked up the keyboard and banged it down on the desk, metaphorically hitting it with a hammer, and it worked. 

So maybe every second day, I would bang the keyboard on the desk. This greatly amused Phyllis and Kosov. I told them I would buy a new one. On a whim this day I did. Rather than the flashy bells and whistles Logitech wireless keyboards, I chose a simple HP keyboard and and mouse, and it just works, without having to bang it on the desktop. The keyboard is quieter than the old one too. Happy.

Boi!, as Phyllis addresses me at times, you are having chicken noodle soup with an egg. Is that ok?

Yes Phyllis. 

It was not a packet of chicken noodle soup with a fried egg on top, as I imagined. It was packet of crinkly noodles in a delicious soup, with some chicken and a drumstick, along with some spicy chicken pieces on the side. The egg was boiled and sat in the soup. 

While looking at old photos, I came across photos of the Brighton Antique Dealer's 80th birthday party. That was in 2015, meaning this year 2025, BAD will be 90. I contacted her daughter to see if there were plans, and there is a plan, so a couple of friends and myself will attend. The official invitations will arrive next week. BAD was quite emotional on the night of her eightieth, so it isn't a great photo of her, with Ray.

Melburnians and tourists have fun in Melbourne at a major horse racing event, the Melbourne Cup.

The majority of attendees arrive by train, for many the only train trip they take for the year. Trains only run on this branch line for special events and it is such an easy way to get there and home.

Massed and ready to board, with diners across the river stuffing their faces at Afloat, formerly Arbory Afloat.


Arbory above Afloat is where Platform 11 at Melbourne Flinders Street once saw trains from St Kilda and Port Melbourne. The lines were converted for light rail trams. With hindsight, it wasn't a great idea as these lines now require quite intensive trams services, whereas less frequent trains could better deal with the number of passengers.


Banana Alley vaults under the railway viaduct have various businesses, and this one is where men go to meet up with men. In these times of internet hook ups, as I sat on a seat outside, I was surprised how many men were coming and going. I suppose if you connect with someone using a hook up site, it is a cheap place to meet up if a home isn't available. 

Phyllis' driving lesson went ok, with only one alarming moment when I reached for the steering wheel. While he rode a motor bike in India, he really is starting from absolute scratch for car driving. But he is smart and quick to pick things up. Next weekend he is not working for four days and I will take him for a lesson each day. 

Next Monday is a public holiday to celebrate the King's Birthday, which actually isn't next Monday. It's the 14th of November. I have promised myself that every time I say Queen's Birthday, I will donate $10 to a charity. I am $10 down already. 

Once again I'm joining with Elephant's Child and River for Sunday Selections  with a variety of photos, hopefully, unused here.

I am not that old in comparison to some of you. Some of you are of a similar age. Some of you are younger. 

Generally your health and physical condition really starts to deteriorate at the age of 60. In my case when I retired at the age of 61, my body began retiring too. At 67, should I live to 77, I think I'll be in wheel chair and being spoon fed. Ok, maybe not. I hope not. 

Your genes will mostly dictate your lifespan, and we all know clean living, diet, socialising and exercise can cheat the genes somewhat. Having a partner helps, along with keeping your mind active, but if you blog, your mind is active. 

I can't say my life has been clean, and still isn't but I do try in various areas. 

But what really pisses me off is those who reach a seriously old age and brag about their older person achievements, how fit they are, their wonderful pain free life. At 90, they are living a glorious life. Good for them, but for most people it is not like that. 

Your partner may have died, many of your friends have died, you may not have much money to spare, you may feel lonely at times, your health could be bad, making your life a constant struggle. You might be dependant on others, in spite of disliking that. 

So just before you brag about what a great life you are living when you are 90, this is not the case for most people, who probably struggle at the age of 80 onwards, or earlier. 

But you don't have to be too old , as you can even die at the age of 40 from the coded police words, "There are no suspicious circumstances".

It was very sad to hear of the deaths of two retired star Australian Rules footballers around the age of 40, one day apart, and there were no suspicious circumstances. One would think, they had everything to live for. 

Troy Selwood.

And Adam Hunter. 

The Brownlow is a medal awarded to the best and fairest player in AFL Australian Rules Football, as judged by field umpires. By some kind of osmosis I know this, which is curious given my lack of interest in any sport (except recently, pole vaulting). 

The award is given out at long a tedious gala night where votes are counted live and broadcast. It has become so boring and tightly controlled. In days of past there was always a footballer who drank too much and misbehaved, perhaps saying something inappropriate in a speech, but not now.

The men dress very boringly, in conventional suits and women go all out with their best formal glam look. I despair at myself for looking at such rubbish on the Information Super Highway, but I did as bombs fell and rockets were fired in the Middle East. 

Here are a few photos from The  Age newspaper of what women were wearing, mostly great but...

WTF? A milk bottle? 

You may be able to look at more frocks here, if that is your thing.

Perhaps this post should be titled Faggot Friday.

I can't help it if I come across things, or people send me things. I don't know who this is or where this Italian lad was competing, but he has the biggest smile and is so full of joy. No it is not that Paris Olympic pole vault clip that you may have already seen.

This month the world's biggest fun run happens in Sydney, called the City2Surf. A friend my age is running, along with the lad he is mentoring. 

In 1961 trams disappeared from the streets of Sydney. From my reading and knowledge of the system, it  was so huge, I struggle to understand how it was manageable and yet offered such an excellent service.

This rather good photo for its time shows a Sydney R Class tram travelling to the city from Watsons Bay as it descends the steep hill between Vaucluse and Rose Bay. The line was closed and then due to public pressure, reopened but then a final closure happened and as the last tram ran a following truck took down the overhead wiring. That was the end of a wonderfully scenic and very busy tram route. Buses then covered the route. Yuk. 

I published a post about Hazara refugees featured in photos at the State Library. I was actually there to see a much more fun exhibition, the photos taken by the marvellous photographer Rennie Ellis, 1940-2003 . If he ever took a photo without a human in the photo, I've not seen it. 

My expectations were low. What would the exhibition be like? Enlarged photos pinned to a wall? Oh no, it was so much more, with photos projected or on screens in a large size. It was just brilliant and well done to the curators.

I took lots of photos and I will remark on those who I knew of in the photos. 

Albert Park Beach. We often visited and I still do.