The Emperor's New Clothes.

I recently saw Neil Young in concert, and during the show it occurred to me that he was still relevant and vital. Even his recent albums have been strong. (OK, maybe not Living With War, but at least that had a purpose!)

You see, I had this theory that it was hard to be an inspiring (and inspired) artist when you’re a sixty-something multi-millionaire. Can you be an ‘angry young lion’ when you sleep on 1000 count Egyptian cotton sheets, with a dozen expensive cars parked in the garage on your ranch?

Over the past few years, the dinosaurs of rock (Dylan, McCartney and so on) have received great reviews for new albums. On its release, I listened to the McCartney album, Memory Almost Full, and was thrilled I hadn’t actually purchased it. And yet people raved about it.

What is it I am missing?

I'm a Beatle (and a Paul) completist (Yes, I even have mono mixes of Ram) but I can't understand the high praise for this piece of crap.

I found it to be sedate, pedestrian, uninspired and quite dull - the sort of throw-aways that show Paul is sorely lacking a foil, someone who'll look him in the eye and tell him that a song is substandard.

Would an unknown artist have even landed a deal with this disc as a demo? I'd be surprised.

The best album since...? Well, to be honest that's not hard -- Paul's releases over the past decade or two have been scattershot at best. And although Chaos and Creation had moments, it wasn't as superb as people claimed.

Paul stated somewhere that this album was mostly written (and even recorded) before the previous album, which means it's not a response to the divorce.

What a shame! Maybe a bit of anger and angst is what he needs.....

Maybe people are so desperate for new Beatle product that any glimmer of hope is immediately seized upon and put on a pedestal. Thank goodness Neil is around to carry the torch.

Dear Sir Or Madam, Will You Read My Book?

The end of the year is rapidly approaching and I don’t have time for all the things I want to do.

I wish I didn’t have to work so I could spend more time writing, but the truth of the matter is I need to make the time to write.

When I do finally isolate myself, and believe me I need to be alone, I’m quite productive. But like most people I feel I have so much to do that I feel guilty when I sit and write.

I can’t listen to music when I write – although I’ve never tried any sort of instrumental music. I really love my music, and I find I can’t just listen to it as background. It’s the same when I’m marking papers. Even a quick “How’s it going?” from my wife throws out my rhythm completely.

But I love writing, and I recently decided that I was going to spend more time practising the craft. I’ve recently entered a couple of competitions. (I entered one a few months ago, but didn’t place. Bah! What does a published author turned judge know about good writing?) One of these competitions, Writers of the Future, has excellent prizes – trips to the US for workshops, cash, large shiny trophies, awards ceremonies – but also has a lot of stiff competition.

I live in hope.

I Absolutely Love Teaching, However...

Sometimes I feel like a kid.

When I'm around other teachers, and they are deep in pedagogical discussion, throwing educational theories back and forth, tossing current educational buzzwords (like pedagogical) into conversation in the same way I would use 'cool', I feel like I'm not a real teacher. I feel like a fake, someone who somehow managed to rise to be among people with whom I don't belong or fit in.

I saw School of Rock on the weekend - that film where Jack Black pretends to be a teacher to get some extra bucks. There is a scene where the real teachers ask him a question about learning theories or something, and he ends up quoting song lyrics back at them.

That's me.

I know a few teachers who race off to every Professional Development session they can, that read all the current journals, that belong to societies and professional organisations, and sometimes want to sit and have conversations with me about teaching practices. It seems to me that a lot of these 'new' teaching ideas are simply 'old' ones repackaged.

And I think it's rather ironic that some of the most 'trained' teachers I've ever met are amongst the worst teachers I've ever seen.

I'm not against ongoing training, but most of the PDs teachers go to are a complete waste of time - apart from the ubiquitous muffins and coffee. Most of us only do them in order to clock up the required hours.

I'm reminded of the story where Dustin Hoffman deprived himself of sleep for two days in order to appear exhausted in a particular scene. Apparently Lawrence Olivier suggested that he 'try acting .... It's much easier!" Sometimes I think some of these teachers should just go into the classroom and simply try teaching instead.

The teacher's union, The Australian Education Union (AEU), recently concluded 18 months negotiations with the government over pay. The union opened at 30%, the government opened at 3.25%. After 18 months they settled somewhere around 3.5%, the union gave up three non-teaching days, and third year teachers will earn the same next year as a first year teacher.

We were asked to vote on this without actually seeing the details of the deal, and most people were just so fed up they agreed to it without arguing.

We knew it was a bad deal when the government announced they were happy...

A few years ago, in another deal to worsen teacher's conditions, our union helped create the The Victorian Institute of Teaching (VIT), a professional overseer that regulates and promotes teaching. Whilst most sane people would argue that it is the role of our employer (the government) or our regulators (the government) to ensure that all teachers are qualified and maintaining professional standards, our union decided we needed another organisation that we have to pay for.

That's right, in order to be allowed to teach every year, I must pay. And then when the government declare every couple of years they need police checks to ensure I'm not going to attack students, I have to pay.

On top of this, they have now decided that I must do twenty hours of professional development training every year. The school budget allows for minimal reimbursement for this, yet the prices of professional training, seminars, workshops and so on are ridiculously high.

If this ongoing training is so vital, surely my employer should pay for it. Can you imagine an office employee being told she needs to undertake further training every year and that much of it needs to be undertaken in her own time and she needs to pay for it herself?

Or that now she is employed she needs to purchase her own computer to use at work, her own pens, her own notebooks and folders and so on.

That's the reality for teachers. We buy our own whiteboard markers, notebooks and folders. We lease our own computers (which we are told we must have), we pay for our own ongoing training (often workshops for the sake of just doing them), and we have a union that actively works against us in improving our conditions.

And the government still wonders why they are having trouble luring the brightest and best into teaching.

Take A Long Line...

Einstein knew what he was talking about. Not many of the rest of us do, though.

On the one hand this genius gave us a new insight into the workings of the quantum world, on the other he messed with our minds to the extent that we now have to try and understand superstring theory. The Elegant Universe, by Brian Greene, is a well written, fascinating approach to complex (some might say 'heavy') science. And, as one of Enid Blyton's characters may have said, it's a "jolly good read".

Simply put (by Einstein himself, no less), "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity."

We all know the feeling. You plan a vacation, and the anticipation and journey feel like it takes forever, while the actual time there and the journey home pass quickly. But some things do take forever. Or at least thirty years.

I feel like a character from Lord of the Rings at the end of a quest. Three times in the past week thirty year 'waits' have come to an end.

In 1978 or so, at high school, (yes, I am that old), a teacher read us a short story that I loved at the time and have always recalled. As a 15 year old I never bothered to get the author or the title. I've spent some of the last thirty years trying to obtain these details, with a more serious attempt at detective work over the past six months. It's actually very difficult to locate this kind of information with only vague memories of what the story us about, but persistence pays off and I'd like to thank the editor who responded to my email immediately. He'd recognised the synopsis from his own schooldays. It's great to finally have a copy of this story.

Around the same time in high school I decided I wanted to fly remote control aircraft. I looked into it, but it seemed very expensive. I went to a meeting or two but realised that the whole thing was way out of a student's price range. I never really looked into it again, believing that it was still an expensive hobby.

But last month, after a chance meeting with a couple of flyboys while walking the wonderdog, I learned that as a hobby it was much more affordable these days. And so my lovely wife bought me a trainer. My friend bought one too and yesterday we had our first successful crashes.

But before gravity proved its existence in spectacular fashion, they did fly around and respond to my controls and made half decent landings once or twice. I even looked like I was in control a couple of times.

And then to top the week off we bought tickets to see the newly reformed Angels. I had two favourite albums in those days, Screaming Targets by Jo Jo Zep and the Falcons, and Face to Face by The Angels. Both these albums (on vinyl) were played regularly during much of the time I was meant to be studying. Now on CD they are still often heard in my house.

But the Angels of the 80s and 90s never excited me as much as the Angels of the four big albums. Even though I still liked their later releases, Face to Face, No Exit, Darkroom and Night Attack had something, an edge, a rawness, that was missing from later incarnations of the band. Unfortunately I never saw them live at all.

Then Doc Neeson had his falling out with the other guys, ran off with Jim Hilburn and formed Red Phoenix, a second rate Angels wannabe. This evolved into Doc Neeson's Angels which released the spectacular, but relatively unknown, Acoustic Sessions album. Meanwhile the rest of the original boys reunited as The Angels, and then The Angels Band due to legal threats by Doc.

I had the complete joy of seeing them live last year. It was a truly sublime moment that I had waited for so long and although they were brilliant they lacked the Doc's menacing vocals, the vocals that suggest he is on the verge of madness.

But they've resolved something (although the Doc claims its not permanent) and are touring shortly - the original five. Just when I thought I was never going to see their faces again, I have tickets for next month.

Do good things come to those who wait? It's taken thirty years, and it is interesting the three events converged on this week, my birthday week.

Who knows what's in store for 2038.

But There's One Thing Really Mystifying...

Wonderfalls. I'd forgotten how great this show was.

Last night when I got home from work, and my wife was still traversing the horror highway home, I lay on the couch with the Wonderdog and watched an episode of this.

Originally I bought this series on the basis of the Andy Partridge involvement. The fine people on Chalkhills (the XTC website) had recommended this since Swindon's finest had written and performed the theme song. I loved it when I first watched it two years ago, but have somehow neglected it since then.

Of course, I've never seen it aired on Australian TV (it may have been on pay TV), and it only lasted the one season in the US, but this is a show that should have been on primetime and run for several seasons.

I've pretty much stopped watching TV, although I don't mind the occasional foray into Gordon Ramsey land. The Nine Network, which has pretty much ruled the airwaves since I was a child and always seemed the most professional of the broadcasters, now wears a tarnished crown. They were even reduced to airing Gordon Ramsey three nights a week - a little too much for even the most dedicated fan. After all, the show is very formulaic and every episode is pretty much the same.

Nine has developed a tendency to buy great shows and then not broadcast them. Even when they do, the shows are usually put on quite late in the evening (way past my bedtime) and then are completely disposable. They edit and chop them to make them fit and then will drop them for a few weeks or postpone the programmed time for a few hours to make way for some sports program that must be shown right now. "Live Poker championships from the Northcote RSL, featuring Shane Warne."

Must see TV, indeed.

And don't even get me started on Underbelly. With all that hype and publicity I really had hoped for a quality show that would be similar to The Sopranos, but have a solid basis in fact. Instead it was poorly written with cardboard, stereotypical characters. The dialogue was laughable at time with cliches I wouldn't expect from my Year 9 writing class and acting that was average at best. And yet the newspapers wrote about Underbelly in glowing terms. I have no idea what the reviewers and critics were watching. It certainly wasn't the same show that I saw.

Watch the weakest of any Sopranos episode and it blows Underbelly out of the water.

So I've started buying DVDs and watching the programs complete, in the correct order and at a reasonable hour. I refused to watch a single episode of The Sopranos final season until it was available on DVD. And I was rather pleased with myself that I was able to avoid any spoilers before viewing it.

I've watched Six Feet Under, West Wing, Buffy, Angel, Firefly and Deadwood the same way. I've started watching Dexter, Sports Night and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip as well. Old favourites such as Northern Exposure, Twin Peaks, Porridge and Goodnight Sweetheart are also on heavy rotation, while any 'reality' program just gets ignored.

The quality is out there but TV delights in mediocrity. The networks target the lowest common denominator.

Fleeting Fame.

I've been told I was mentioned in Wikipedia.

My students informed me that for a day or so my name was included in the entry for one of the texts we have studied this year.

After the usual information about the book, the author and the narrative, I was mentioned by name and stated that I "said the book is crap."

It's true.

It is.

Thanks to the anonymous student that mentioned me.

And raspberries to the censor who deleted me.

Pulp Culture?

I read that Kylie Minogue received a cultural award from the French government. Hmmmm.

We're always being told how cultured the French are, with their art, cafes, wines and so on but now I find myself questioning this longheld belief. No offence, Kylie, but your music is just pop, and very average pop at that.

I love pop music - I have loads of it in my collection and I'll even admit to having a guilty pleasure or two, but a cultural award for "I Should Be So Lucky"? Full credit to Kylie, though. She's done very well.

In a perfect world Jeff Tweedy of Wilco, or Terry Scott Taylor from Daniel Amos, or Andy Partridge of XTC would be millionaires and revered throughout the world. Kylie would be dance music in clubs while the world would enjoy the art of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Apple Venus and Mr. Buechner's Dream.

Kylie lived the high life all over the world, while Andy, Dave and Colin from XTC were taking part time jobs in order to pay the bills between album releases. From what I understand most of the guys in Daniel Amos have full time jobs. The coolest unknown band in the world? Maybe - especially when you can claim that your guitar player is a rocket scientist at NASA.

Greg: What are you doing this week?Terry: Oh, I'll fiddle with my guitars, write a couple of songs. Produce some demos for a new band I know. You?

Greg: The usual. Pushing satellites around, driving remote vehicles all over Mars and going down to the basement to check out the moonrocks and a couple of aliens we had transferred over from Area 51.

Terry: Ok, see you next week at rehearsal. Oh well, I suppose true artists must suffer for their cause, and I know that quality does not equal popularity.

But in a perfect world Terry and Andy would collaborate to make the world's most perfect album. The Beatles would have performed once more in the late 70s so that I could have seen them at least once. Gene Eugene would resurrect and Adam Again would appear at a festival with XTC, Daniel Amos, The Swirling Eddies, Lost Dogs and The 77s in Melbourne so I could finally see some of these bands.

Philip K. Dick would have written a few more books, and I would be a talented and successful writer living the country life beyond the suburbs.

And Kylie Minogue would drop over sometimes to discuss the genius of Partridge and Taylor.