2002-01-06

Bitchcraft played a stellar show last night at the Lucky Country Hotel. The word onthe street afterwards was that it was the best show we'd played.

The Newcastle band scene is very, very small but quite healthy. There are several gigs on on a given weekend night, but last night it seemed everyone was at the Lucky. Heaps of my friends were there, but friends from all different places. Naughty Sean was down from Brisbane, Shezly and her flatmates drove up from Sydney, Simone's brother and his pal dropped in to check us out for the first time, Amanda's cousin and her cousin's boyfriend came on their way up the coast. And, of course, all the usual suspects!

Mike Hunt played before us and their brand of death metal was good and Novocastrian: functional, harsh but very sexy. Strength to Strength were after us and very funky, I didn't pay much attention to them and went out to the balcony, only to be drawn back stagefront to frug tot heir version of "Its So Easy" by the Gunners. For ages I have wanted to cover eith that song, or "Rocket Queen". Now it will have to be "Rocket Queen".

This morning I went to the beach as usual. The car park was full so I decided to park along the foreshow road. As I opened the van's side door to retrieve my towel, I dropped my keys. I didn't even move to catch them - I imagined they would land on the road, as they usually do. But lo! I had parked right next to a drain, one of the gutter ones. And no! These ones along the foreshore road were not covered by grates like the ones in the Nobby's Beach carpark, where countless tourists had lost they keys down the drains before council installed the grates, I'm sure. My keys went down the drain! And I could see them, about 6 feet down, sparkling in the sun. So, I went to call flatmate Michelle to go pick up Damien (who has spare car keys) and ask him to bang a nail; into the end of a broomstick and COME HELP ME!! They arrived 15 minutes later, Dame had brought the hooky broomstick and within 5 minutes had my keys back. He saved me!

The beach is ludicrous lately. Over Christmas the main beach was closed because of really crazy, washing-machine style currents. Now, it is infested with bluebottles. Nobby's has been really good though, luckily, and I have been able to swim out the back with all the old dudes who do overarm crawl left to right and back again. But today, because of the bluebottles I decided to go to the ocean baths. On the way, I saw fellow bitch, Amanda who had just been out surfing. "But there are no waves and I can't surf" she said.

Opened in the thirties, the baths retain the art deco style that was popular at the time. Agan, the swimmers are mostly old dudes, and I swim up and down with them. Lazily, and not calculating laps or distance. Just swimming and resting, swimming and resting. Lots of kids jump of the pontoon, or madly run off the diving board. But me and old dudes swim up and around the place.

The water is getting warmer to me, but the blackboards full of beachy information on the sand, well they say its 21oC everyday. I think I'm becoming leathery and resistant to the cold like the old dudes. But I'll never be one of the old dudes that chucks ice in the water and swims aroun in that. I'm a wanna be leathery old dude, and I swim like lazy.