Hahaha - lalala - Taylor's musical monologue

While i cannot proclaim to be a fan of country pop, I do have a soft spot for Taylor Swift's infectious tunes - until I flog the CD to death.

Plus, the way she handled the Kanye incident was inspiring, (not only cos Kanye's a douche) and this video just tops it off for me.

Fkn classic.

It ain't that bad

So I was thinking about this patch of dirt I and about 45,000 other people call home, and recalling the days (up to the present) when people would revel in whingeing about what a hole this place is.

 

I first became aware of the town-bagging back in Years 11 and 12, when my fellow classmates would state: "I can't wait to get out of this shit-hole".

 

"Yeah, this place is a dump," another would agree.

 

"Total waste of space."

 

Imagine their surprise when I would retort: "It's not that bad, if it was so awful wouldn't our parents have moved somewhere else?"

 

Surprise, quickly followed by disgust would cross their faces.

 

Sure enough, at the end of Year 12 close to 80% (just a rough guess) of the student population left town in pursuit of a university education, either in Melbourne or Adelaide, or in some cases a number of smaller centres - Bendigo, Ballarat, or inter-state.

 

While at the start of Year 12 I was right up there with them, ready to pack my bags and high-tail it out of here, fate had other things in store for me, namely in the form of the opportunity of a lifetime that allowed me to kick-start my career right here at home.

 

Something, which, while I have moved onto other things, have always been grateful for. Who can argue with 3 years of on-the-job training compared to a 4-year piece of paper?

 

But I digress.

 

As the years went by, my fellow classmates who were so desperate for the big smoke slowly began to return. Some come for the job opportunities, others because being so far from home wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I judge none of them.

 

My point is, this place isn't so bad. It IS home. Having spent the largest portion of my life here, I relish in the small things that make this place unique.

 

The fact that people often have no idea where this place is. I find humour in the tendency of news outlets to refer to anything above Melbourne (minimum distance 50 kilometres) as "Northern Victoria."

 

Here's a news flash - we're as northern as you can get. Perched precariously on the cusp of three states, we're in a prime position.

 

I love flying back into town from Melbourne and catching that first glimpse of green grape vines after scorched Mallee desert, followed by that snaking Murray that says: "Welcome home".

 

I love the fact that we're no more than 5 minutes from the river. That people think nothing of heading down to our own beach (read: giant sandbar) with the dog and a can and just doing sweet f-all.

 

I love driving across the bridge - heading interstate - and thinking nothing of it. Roaring down the highway and smelling the wineries and citrus all mixed together - fermenting grapes, fresh and ripe citrus, dust and the smell of wet plants all rolled into one.

 

The dust storms, though my sinuses may protest, are a highlight, along with the scorching, then muggy days broken with cracks of lightning across the sky.

 

There's no smog, peak hour means an extra 5 minutes tops in the car, and thongs are a perfectly acceptable footwear day or night. What more could you ask for?

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