Colin's Show and Tell

I Love Tasmania - Music, Mountains and Mist ’09

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 14:00:05 +1100

After a year’s break, last week I headed back to Tassie for the Koorong Hobart and Launceston shows.

Arrived Thursday morning and , my roadie, Rheban Bradley (who does Koorong National Retail Manager when he isn’t inflating beach balls for Colin shows), took me for a run down the coast road south of Kingston and around to Huonville. What a beautiful part of the world! And a 34 degree Celsius day! Not a polarfleece to be seen!

The venue was Citywide Baptist Church in Mornington, on the northside. A capacity crowd went OFF and it was lovely to see how appreciative they were that I’d made the trek across Bass Strait again. It was definitely my hottest gig ever in Hobart!

Up to Launie via Richmond for a scenic run and a good chin wag, arriving at the Door of Hope church for another sell-out! It was a great crowd - and the precious crew from St Mary’s were there again - the biggest mob they’ve bussed in yet!

Usually it’s up and out back home, but with a Christmas gig in Ulverstone I hit the track across to the Central Coast just past Devonport. What a beautiful sunset - the long twilight kept painting the western sky as the miles rolled by.

A highly anticipated few hours off before the afternoon sound check saw me head up into the hills. Ulverstone is just over and hour from Cradle Mtn National Park - a top 5 world heritage site! Since being introduced to the area compliments of the Franklin Dam protests in the early 80’s, it’s a place I’ve wanted to visit ever since.

Legendary stuff - the amazing Cradle Mtn, Dove Lake and the unique alpine vegetation. It has a scale and scope that stretches from the tiny mosses to the mighty mountains.

I had a 3 hour window as I set my boots upon the Overland Track duckboards. Headed up to Marions Lookout - which was completely misted in. But the place is magical in the mist and I am determined to return. Love to head up Cradle Mtn (a 5 hr return walk) or maybe one day do the 6 day overland track... But it was a very special few hours.

The Ulverstone gig was a wonderful community event - lots of fun and such a warm mob. Time for some pics and a chat afterwards, then back to Launceston and an early flight out Sunday morning.

I’ve posted a photo album to have a peek at if you’d like. Tassie ‘09 - Music, Mountains and Mist

My Life ‘09 in Bullet Points - plus BONUS Stupid Things

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 11:46:23 +1100

Stupid Things aren’t meaningless or wrong necessarily, but with the advent of camera phones I can find mildly amusing or entertaining things and capture them to enjoy later. I’m really taking the internet moral high ground here...

There’s a Ronnie Barker magazine. Tough call when you walk into the newsagent and have to decide between Solar System Magazine or Ronnie Barker Magazine.

But he was a comedy genius so I guess it’s a fair call. But it still ranks as a stupid thing.

Col’s Airport shuttle is a stupid thing - because I got to take a photo of it... We were rolling up to Brisbane airport and I’m getting Gavin to go a bit faster...no, slower...no, steady....got it!

But on to my life in bullet points - this blog needs to serve some useful informative function... What has happened to the last 12 months?

• Christmas crazies - Carols By Candlelight in Brisbane, Griffith, Gymea, Figtree.... I love balmy summer nights and Christmas and music combined. Although the heavens opened in Griffith and it was a wash-out... More carols coming up this Chrissy - check my website for details...

• UK/Ireland Tour 09 - June was huge with gigs from Dublin to Coleraine to Stirling to Sheffield to Isle of Wight to Basingstoke and all points in between. Hectic, tiring, encouraging, very worthwhile. If there was someone in the UK doing what I’m doing with my kids Christian music I’d stay home - but it seems to be unique, appreciated and complimenting what folks are seeking to do in churches across the pond. There are tales to tell, but if I told them I’d never finish this blog. Pictures are worth a thousand words, so some photos from the 2009 UK/Eire Tour are here...

• The Good News Parcel Company DVD - (Mainly) Sydney Anglican churches have handed out tens of thousands of these to kids they connect with in school scripture, kids clubs and other ministries. It’s a tool to deliver the gospel message featuring me and a puppet called Nudge (pictured left with his handler, Mal Heap), who my wife says she likes better than me... She’ll be keeping me in a box next... It’s available at my olde online shoppe...

• BOOM CHICKA BOOM - the memory verse record that came out of nowhere. Released in very soon (it’s at the manufacturers as I type) BCB emerged from an idea to collect Bible memory verses into a CD. Suddenly I’m writing new ones, I’m booking a band and I have myself nearly 20 new tracks - add the existing memory verses and you’ve got BOOM CHICKA BOOM - a 30 track BIBLE BONANZA!

• COLIN’S COLOURING IN AND STICKER BOOKS Vol 1 and Volume 2 - For a few years I’ve included pdf hand-drawn colouring in pages on my music CDs as enhanced content...but most folks have no idea about that sort of tech stuff. So I wanted to give the pages a lease of life. The pics are generally based on songs from my kids albums - I started doing that sort of thing back in my Sunday School teaching days... Ahhhh....! Memories!

• Live in the Big Tent / Aussie Praise Special Editon Vol 1 combined 10th Anniversary REISSUE - what a mouthful! They’ve been out of print for a few years and deserved a new lease of life. A combo of the wonderfully warm 2000 Big Tent show (what a great crowd of singers!!!) and rarities and extras from recording sessions around 2000, including “Follow the Saviour” and “Real Hope”.

OK! Enough!!! Pedro says a blog can’t be too long or it’ll be....too long....

Room for a parting stupid thing...

On the wall in the mens’ toilets at Adelaide Airport.

The obvious question - who drinks water out of the toilet bowl...?!?

I sure hope the toilet bowl water drinking boys see this sign before they go the scoop and sip....

On that uplifting note, farewell...

The Bushfire - Part 2 of 2

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 10:21:10 +1100

It’s interesting that as I read this now in 2009 - 8 years later and in the wake of the Victorian fires - in one sense it all seems so light-hearted. I cringe a little to be honest. But I think the peril was masked by the slowing of the fire front. To see footage of the fires thundering out of forests in Victoria, literally moving at 100 kph, massive flames leaping into the sky - suddenly the thought of staying and fighting seems like suicide. I think many who perished may not have been so far from my story and it’s tone - until they discovered, too late, that they were in the path of a freakishly enormous, ravenous, deadly furnace and there was no escape. We have a CFU (Community Fire Unit) in our street now, manned by residents, but I’d still seriously re-think staying next time... When it comes to bushfires, it seems the line between menacing and deadly can be crossed in an searing, ferocious instant.

The Bushfire - Part 2

So it’s Boxing Day, I’ve been anticipating the oncoming fire all day, the smoke is bellowing, like a glowing ochre orb the sun slowly sets in the west and is replaced by a creeping orange glow to the south. The threat of an approaching southerly squall looms as we sit down to graze the non-stop, on-the-spot live TV news reports. “Hey, that reporter’s just down the road!” “Hey, there’s the station!” Down the street, another siren wails through the night - sort of like the news is in surround sound, complete with smoky aroma.

And so we watched and waited. One little family out of many little families in a leafy suburb under seige. It was clear from the news that the scene was repeated across the state, with some heading to evacuation centres, some returning to discover their home is still standing, some to heartbreaking devastation. And we were playing our our part while we watch others playing their part.

On reflection, it was a bit like a strange sort of multimedia multiple choice reality game show. “BUSHFIRE SURVIVOR - the game where we place a family in the path of a bushfire and show them a number of possible outcomes. Our cameras roll as we see which one outcome is theirs - fiery obliteration, lucky escape, touch-and-go real life drama or last minute reprive... Stay tuned, after this word from our sponsors...”

But the time came for bed - we’d done all we could, and the kids needed their sleep. The cars were packed, the clothes were out on the beds in case of emergency. After the activity and tension of the day, perhaps surprisingly, heads hit the pillow and we were out like a light. Until...

I woke to the flash of red and blue lights, the crackling voices on two way radios and the gloved thump on the front door. It was official - the evacuation was on. The fire was too close for comfort, the southerly change was on its way and all residents were to proceed to the evacuation centre - a commandeered PCYC. Kids were roused, dressed and, like some sort of back-to-front re-enactment of the ancient warrior departing for battle, I stood, a lone hero, waving my family farewell as the departing Tarago played it’s bit part in the strange bustling, smoky, nearly-midnight movie that was unfolding in our street.

The anticipation grew in the following hours. Neighbours chatted, strategies discussed, grabs of information shared. Then back to the house to hose it down. Wet towels at the ready to block the path of sneaky sparks which might slip under doors. I was rugged up for protection, cord jacket, tracksuit pants, a tea towel my makeshift breathing apparatus. With my 12 mm garden hose, I was a force to be reckoned with. Any nasty old raging bushfire better watch out - Fireman Col was in Property Protection Mode.

I was the soldier, dug in and awaiting the advancing foe. Strangely, it was more exciting than frightening. Our Victorian CFA chums lined the street, a tender for every two homes. They were cool customers - being from the bush, they’d fought to save the homes of family, friends, neighbours. While some of the other emergency workers fussed and clucked, the lads form Mornington seemed to have it all in hand. (At one stage I slipped out the back to avoid the fretful police, who were mis-informing residents that they had to leave. An agitated woman in overalls and a helmet took my name and told me, “You can replace your house, you can’t replace your life!” True enough, but I wasn’t exactly planning to throw myself into the flames... My car was packed and I had every intention to scoot if things got nasty.)

Friends who had readied their homes came by to see if they could help. At one stage we sat inside, the glow of the fire front less than a kilometre to the south, visible through the glass double doors. Someone produced a bottle of cheap white wine and we told stories and chatted, a comradery born out of shared adversity, rarely shared by urban dwellers. We’d nip outside, have a spray, determine the prognosis, then take up our positions on the lounge in the command bunker. Crackers anyone?

At about 2.00 am the first of the flames became visible through the trees in the valley behind us. We were on tools now - hoses ready, tea towel masks on. The enemy was upon us! Marching slower than anticipated - the expected change had weakened and swung around to the south. It was one of those unforgettable moments when the scrub behind our place finally burst into flames - not so much an explosion as a “very well, I suppose I should burn since the fire’s finally here and everyone’s watching me...” Cinders and smoke swept rose high over our heads, the CFA hitting our house with the occasional precautionary blast of water. Quite a gathering of locals and fire volunteers watched the flames creep their way east along the firebreak. Then, without closing title, full time whistle or fanfare of any sort, we all knew that for our little neck of the woods at least, the worst had come and gone and we were into the “Mopping Up Phase.”

For all the waiting amidst the unfolding, threatening, looming sense of disaster there was hardly a frenetic moment to be had. The preparation had been thorough, the troops had stood resolute, the family was safe, the house was standing. A parting 4 am port with a couple of neighbours and I finally returned to bed at 5 am. Roll credits on “The Bushfire”.

But time for the epilogue. When I rose later that morning, what a sight beheld my bagged eyes! Blackened, scorched, smouldering bush. For months after visitors would comment on how cose the fires had come. “It must have been touch-and-go...?” And I would once again dine out on the details of my courageous exploits that Boxing Day night.

But we were blessed. Kept by the hand of God. No terror, no pain. Comradeship, even excitement - but not at the cost of property or lives. And woven right through it, the service of volunteers form Mornington*, who might have been tucking into a bit of Chrissy Dinner, opening presents, catching up with the rellos, but instead who were standing with a hose in hand in a total stranger’s backyard 1000 km from home.

For this part of the story, it feels like there’s no need to dig too deep and find a nice metaphor. The deep stuff’s all there, right on the surface, everywhere you look... Providence. Service. Protection. Goodness. Friendship. Sacrifice. And all with its source in the God who is in his essence good, abounding in mercy. The God who saves people from Fire...

John 15:6
If anyone does not remain in me, he is like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.

* it seems ironic that, in the light of the 09 fires, that it was Victorian CFA volunteers who came to protect our homes and lives in NSW

The Bushfire - Part 1 of 2

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 10:04:38 +1100

Here are two short pieces I wrote for the book Australain Stories about the fires which burned up to the back or our home in the summer of 2001. It seems to be an appropriate companion to the new version of “Here One Moment”, which I wrote after the ’94 fires. (You can download my re-worked 2009 acoustic version of “Here One Moment 09” HERE.)

The Bushfire - Part 1

“You’d better get up. Greg next door is up on his roof filling his gutters...”

So began my boxing day, 2001. So rudely awoken from my blissful, post Christmas, once-a-year, doze-into-the-day, contented slumber.

Bushfire. Still aways off to the south but unmistakably heading our way. And between us and the fire? Fuel. Acres and acres and acres of fuel. Twigs and branches and leaves and tress, baked by the low humidity summer, waiting to explode into flames. Add blustery westerly winds, repeat across the state and you got yourself a bonafide bushfire crisis. Not your media-hyped smouldering grassfire beat-up. A genuine, leave with what you wear, lost-everything, no-warning bushfire crisis. This thing was big. Big enough to get me out of bed before 7.30 on Boxing Day.

OK, so I can be sceptical. The TV news sniffs a live-on-the-scene, ground zero, “...as you can see behind be....” report and there’s no stopping them. And they’d been hard at it. But news about the fires had reached us in a far more compelling way.

Like a midday black sky twilight the day before. We weren’t where the fires had any immediate threat (yet) but the sun was a rich red and Sydney’s bush was belching black smoke. Never seen anything like it. We kept slipping outside between Christmas duties to gaze at the billowing clouds - a city under siege. And then the mobile phone rings - news from our friends in the northern Illawarra. Not so much a case of “The fire’s coming!” as “It’s here!”

Like us, with ashen skies above, they were sitting down making the best of Christmas dessert. Until their daughter ran in screaming, “Dad! The back fence is on fire!” By the time they were outside, the caravan was going up and the back shed was well alight. “Get into the car!” The lovingly tended garden’s ablaze, the fibro of the garage starts to explode. “Just get in the car!” The fire is roaring, the heat scorching. Screams, crying - out the driveway. Baz turns to take a last look at his family home. Thinks, “I’ll never see it standing again.” “There’s nothing we can do!” Just get out of there. (Mercifully, their home was spared - just. Their neighbour’s place was guttered.)

So with homes lost to the south, emergency evacuations, highways shut and firecrews called in from interstate, I’m in for a big Boxing Day. Leaves cleared, gutters plugged, hoses in, clear potential fuel. Outdoor chairs. Floormats. Firewood. Friends arrived to help and to wait. With access south shut, the nearby railway overpass offered the best view of the approaching front. A steady flow of sightseers, locals and otherwise, lined the bridge all day. Lacking the ferocity of Christmas Day, nonetheless the fire steadily advanced towards us.

We packed the photos, some clothes. What else? Some CD’s, guitars, beloved stuffed toys, lego.... All in the cars, waiting for the word to evacuate. A crew from the Victorian CFA came around to check the property and make suggestions for when the fire arrived. And to tell us that a threatening southerly was on the way. If the call came to evacuate, I’d send the family off and stay to put out any spot fires. We had a plan, we were packed, we were ready. We waited.

We regularly joined the the parade of familiar and unfamiliar faces marching back and forth to the bridge. As the day drew to a close, the orange glow appeared to the south. Early evening and we spotted the first flames. Ash and blackened leaves dropped like fine snow, the occasional ember descended, glowed its last and died. Curtain raisers. The main event was now in sight, the southerly was forecast for sometime in the night, and our house lay just metres from the edge of hundreds of acres of bush.

Of course, the story is not yet complete - but you’ve got take the time to tell it right. And pressing the pause button at this point allows me time to reflect.

Consider how a small spark can grow to consume homes, clear towns, shut highways, separate families, threaten lives, wreak havoc. Like how a moment of wilfulness or carelessness or spite or anger can leave lasting damage in our lives and the lives of others. Every agonising, sin-stained wrecked moment of humanity can be traced back to the sin of Adam. “The blazing flame will not be quenched, and every face from south to north will be scorched by it.” (Ezekiel 20:47) The spark of death’s wildfire has scorched every heart since Adam. Bar One. The sinless, fireproof Jesus.

(2009 - I’m really conscious of how religious types can use tragedy to grandstand their cause. I’m not trying to do that. When I can’t avoid situations that scream out my mortality and frailty I find that flings me into thinking about how God would want me to understand the way He fits the world fits together and my place in it...)

Consider how our plans, our possessions, our families, our homes - no matter how worthy or keenly anticipated or deserving we might feel of them - can burn up before our very eyes. We are mist that appears then is gone. Our claim on this life and its mercies are contingent on the sustaining hand of God. In His mercy He gives, in His wisdom He takes. Everyone and everything is subject to Him. We might anticipate a bushfire, secure our homes and possessions and in the end be prepared to flee. But everything, even our very lives, may be lost.

In the end, the inevitable flames of death are approaching us all. Perhaps exploding on us unexpectedly, perhaps anticipated from afar. But the sniff of death, like the smell of smoke, is a permanent pollutant in this fallen world. It seems unstoppable, defying the containment lines of wealth and comfort, youth and innocence, wilfulness or wishful thinking. And yet, miraculously, like the bushfire, some are spared.

But I’m not yet through with my bushfire story, so stay tuned for Part Two...

Colin Receives His Age as Cafe Number

Thu, 11 Sep 2008 16:51:59 +1000

I’ve made up for lack of blogging lately with some more substantial contributions, which is good.

Just when the tone looked like it might just rise a little toooooo much, I snapped myself at the shopping centre today after i received my age as the cafe number. I don’t remember this ever happening before (or noticing it) so I whipped out the camera and captured the moment for posterity. I was with my wife, Robyn, who was nowhere near as amused by the event as I was. Wheich I found possibly more amusing than the whole number thing, anyway. I think she said something like, “Weird.”

I don’t think she meant the number. I think she meant me.

Special thanks to the mystery man in the background who maintained his natural composure in the face of events of worldwide significance happening just inches away.

And in other breaking news...

For those who are interested, the local Coles supermarket light-up sign still reads COL. My name is still up in lights, after just over a year!

Life since November... (Part 3: Aargh! It’s Sept 08! A Quick Summary!)

Mon, 1 Sep 2008 13:47:26 +1000

Woah! I came back to the blog to find the milk spoiled and ants in the sugar...

What has life looked like since the last entry?

SONGWRITING...

With Tania...
I got a text the other day from Tania Kernaghan, letting me know she was heading over to Nashville to record a new album. Way back in March Tania came to my place to do some songwriting...we came up with a song or four. It’s fun reconnecting after some time and nice to get to the other side of three days together and have some solid tunes that seem to have a good reason for existing. Tania has been doing some TV that has drawn her into the wayfaring caravan culture so there was a bit of the theme of travelling and covering the expanse of Australia in the lyrics. Can’t wait to hear what she comes up with in the US!

With Troy...
I’d say Troy Cassar-Daley is one of the most motivated writers I’ve come across. He boldly throws himself into writing partnerships with no real certainty how things might turn out. So although we’ve written together a number of times before (Family Farm is one of my favourite collaborations - as is They Don’t Make Em Like That Anymore) it’s always interesting to see what the boy throws at you.

We went to his weekender in the hills west of Brisbane for three days and got some nice tunes out of the whole exercise. And Troy took me fishing, which resulted in a catfish for Bucko and a beautiful Australian bass for Troy...There is some justice in the world! He is the original hunter-gatherer! It’s in his blood. We’re trying to connect again before Troy heads into the studio later in the year...

With Lee...
Lee Kernaghan is The Australian of the Year - a formidable responsibility! It has taken him deep into the heart - and heartache - of the bush this year. So going away together with Garth and I up into the hinterland on the Queensland Gold Coast was, I think, a timely diversion. I love our times up in the hills there. We wrote for Electric Rodeo and The New Bush up there and it definitely has “the vibe”. Companionship, music, a nice red or two, an open fire, a lot of laughs...and some great new tunes to boot! We’ve made a couple of trips up there for the next Kernaghan recording, which is always like the next good rainfall - you never know quite when it might happen but you learn to keep an eye on the signs...

With Jayne...
Jayne Denham and I first met in 1997 when I was recording one of my first kids Christian records. last year Jayne recorded her first county album with John Kane (who produced my first two country albums.) She is now in pre-production with Garth Porter with a view to recording early next year. Garth, Jayne and I have had a couple of swings at writing this year at Garth’s Rancom Street Studio. It’s been fun to write for Jayne - she has a unique country rock voice and a huge heart for her audience - and she is very open to trying lyrical and musical ideas.

So songwriting has been a big part of my 2008 so fat! Some real diversity, great times chatting, writing, laughing and being friends together.

I really believe friendship is the foundation of really successful creative pursuits. Every song is a little package of uncertainty. You never know if or when (or in whose hands) it might see the light of day. But when the time taken to bring it to life has the glow of happy friendship, well, right from the start it owes you nothing!

GIGS

I had a lovely run down to the Mallee to perform at the invitation of a Christian Farmers Group. I’ll knock out a little album to show you - it’s a great part of the world and the people of Waracknabeal, Boort, Sea Lake and Barham made me so welcome. I travelled around with Quambatook farmer Brett Hosking - not only a fine farmer but a world-class roadie, as it turns out! The Mallee has been in drought and the free concerts were intended to be a blessing from the hands of the local churches to their communities. It was a wonderful time - lots of folks came along, a huge number of kids and their families. It’s great when the joy of community and the release of laughter and the message of Jesus collide and no one’s quite sure where one starts and the other ends...

A shearer mate of Brett’s in Boort grabbed Brett’s arm mid-gig (as Brett was wrangling an inflatable crocodile or something) and enthusiatically said to him, “This is great, mate!” Brett said, “The kids loving it?” “The kids? I’m lovin’ it!!!” replied the shearer! It was great to see the barriers and inhibitions and pre-occupations dissolve for a time. By the end of the four concerts I’d played to about 1500 people - it was a very special tour! Great peopel, great country. Praying for the rain they need and grace to shine, even in the midst of hardship.

Gigs earlier this year have included Barabul Hills Baps in Geelong, VIC, Nuriootpa in the Barossa Valley SA (Redeemer Lutheran School), Belgrave Heights Convention Centre for the Victorian Bible Society (pic left is Tony collecting me from the airport!), Hurstville Church of Christ NSW, Reedy Creek Baptist Church in QLD (look at the mean bouncers with their dark glasses above right!) and Katoomba Easter Convention...

OTHER STUFF...
Not insignificantly, so far this year I’ve completed the recording of my latest kids Christian album, Super Saviour, finished my second book for Christian Focus Publications, Practise Being Godly (one of our pics-in-progress on the right!) and sent off the bits of the follow-up to the Scholastic best-selling Fair Dinkum Aussie Christmas, called (predictably) Fair Dinkum Aussie Easter, to be released for Easter 2009. (In the tradition of Aussie Jingle Bells - if it actually has a tradition - FDAE is a collection of parody-driven songs reflecting the distinctively Australian cultural habits that around Easter time, such as The Great Big Aussie Easter Egg Hunt, The Easter Hat Parade, Aussie Easter Oi! Oi! Oi! and The Easter Long Weekend.)

So I haven’t been sitting still... And I think there’s still room for a dedicated bloggy bit about the 2008 UK tour and a very special trip to the Northern Territory... But they will have to wait...and wait...and wait...

Life since November 07... (Part 2: Tamworth CM Festival)

Wed, 28 May 2008 10:02:45 +1000

My mate David says it can be hard finding the balance in this digital camera video editing age between recording your life and actually living it. I deliberately disclaimed at the outset that my blog (technically named incorrectly - Pedro tells me a blog is daily) wasn’t going to be gap-less. I know myself too well. But having said that, here’s a little more show and tell to explain where 5 months of 2008 have managed to get to....

Beach Mission

Our family took ourselves off on the Scripture Union Family Mission to Bawley Point. A wonderful experience of community and mission and ministry, complete with camping trailer and moonlight walks to the dunnies. Reflections about the whole thing probably should reside in my God etc bit, but it was great to be away as a family being part of a team of Christians wanting to bless families on holidays. Bush Dances, Discos, Pancake days, Water slides, sand modelling, sunset services... Good stuff.

Tamworth 2008

Every year the Tamworth festival hits with a vengence. I get sort of chilled and suddenly I’m off north to be part of the mayhem. This year my committments were limited - I had a lovely little solo acoustic show at the Reegnt Theatre - a nice mob of listeners came along to hear probably my biggest live batch of new songs in ages. I love the solo acoustic thing. Good chum Peter Denahy came along to sing “Wanaaring Road” with me and treated us to his “Sortof Dunno Nuthin’” which has literally caused a sensation. (His album “Picture in a Frame” is a great record - he’s an astute writer with an affectionate but piercing ability to paint musical portraits. And he is a funny, funny man. Naturally funny - he can’t help it. A lot of “funny types” we’re served up are average people with a bit of schtick. Pete’s trying to weigh up whether he goes down the comedy route or not. He has a rare and precious ability to make people reflect and feel as well as laugh. I hope he finds a line to walk that allows him to deliver that balance.)

Not really bloggable or newsworthy in an industry where artists and promo people try to pump up every Tamworth event “ARTIST X Walks Down Peel St to buy Socks” “ARTIST Y hosts biggest Tupperware Party of Festival” ‘ARTIST Z Brushes Teeth” bla bla. I vistited the old folk’s home again and sang a bunch of tunes - we finished singing “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross” together. It’s the second time I’ve done the gig and it was food for thought again. An unnoticed moment with the power-players of yesterday. Mothers, nurses, teachers, administrators, business people, farmers, public servants - movers, shakers, leaders, masters. Now it’s Life in the Hostel. I think we should think often about growing old. You have to get ready. Appreciate the power of youth and anticipate the time when other people get a turn. Grace in frailty is magnificent. Bitterness in old age is ugly ugly ugly. I want to keep doing the emotional weeding so my emothional garden is ready to bloom if and when I get to that season.

And in the theme of the significant insignificant, I had some marvellous hours with Paul O’Gorman, my music lawyer/fellow songwriter/valued sounding board, Skip, manager of Adam Harvey and passionate music man and Max Ellis (in the photo on the left), CM pioneer and gold class conversationalist. Long chats, knocking around music and Tamworth and things deep and shallow - meandering like a willow-shaded river. Ahhh! I must be getting old - Tamworth should be full of gratuitous self-promotion, but....

The frenetic end of the spectrum came with the TOYOTA Country Theatre Family Show. Just when you thought Colin was getting all serious on you, 1500 people cop The Hokey Pokey, Nicky Nacky Nocky Noo, the now-annual panto-inspired cross-dressing band-performed Sleeping Princess, The Mummy Song etch etc. Always a hoot and between Mitch Farmer, Jake Lardot, Tim Wedde and Ian Lees there was more cheese than the Coon factory....

Saturday night was the big Golden Guitar awards sponsored by Kenny’s Butchery in Gulgong. A glittering night, my highlight was Kasey Chamber’s and her Shane thingo’s performance - nicely organic and no great big videos going behind them. I has 2 nominations for Lee Kernaghan’s “Spirit of the Bush” which did actually win 3 awards but none for the writers. Never mind - the songs has done great work with ALL of the royalties going to AUSSIE HELPERS who roam the bush helping folks in a very practical, sacrificial and, in some cases, life saving way.

I think I’ll need to go to Part 3 on this little exercise....

Life since November... (Part 1: Christmas Books and Broken Hill)

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 09:40:14 +1100

Sometimes you just get so busy livin’ life that you don’t get any time to record it...

Since my last entry, in a nutshell...

The Christmas mayhem hit... Hey, I have become a bestselling author! Last year’s “Aussie Jingle Bells” book, (words by me and illustrated by Nick Bland) once again plopped into the Australian top ten children’s books list, joined by by its new stablemate, “Fair Dinkum Aussie Christmas” with words by me (Bucko) and Greg Champion (Champs) and beautiful pictures by Kilmney Niland. So, along with my chum Champs and our talented illustrators, we were on the bestseller list! Both books are in my shop, although you may want to wait until a more appropriate season... (I included the above pic which I sneaked as I was waiting to appear on Phil Clarke’s drive time radio show on Sydney’s 2GB... Felt a little like a naughty boy, but I should let you know that both cutouts were really nice and happy to pose for a photo with me...)

As for the carols performance roundabout, it took me from Brisbane to Broken Hill, Townsville to Gymea... I love the Australian Carols by Candlelight thing - balmy clear summer evenings with the locals laid out on folding chairs and rugs, taking in the music and enjoying a true family community event... Of course, you get your summer storms (ask my Gymea chums - a total washout!)

I think Broken Hill was the winner this time around. For my overseas readers, Broken Hill is a mining town that’s way, way, way out in the desert, about a 2.5 hour flight from Sydney in far western NSW. (You may be able to make out the town in the picture below.)

The locals piled into Sturt Park, on the corner of Beryl and Chloride Streets. The storms were circling somewhere in the desert north towards Tibooburra, but they never got to the Silver City. Pastor John Curtis was a good a host as ever, the Church of Christ team put on a really nice show and I just loved being back at one of my favourite caorls events. A post-show cuppa with Cornerstone chums Russell and Sue Hodge and family capped off a really nice night.

Russ told me about a chat he had with some kids during the show. The kids were eyeballing Rus’ artificial leg, the result of a terrible bike accident a year before. They asked him about it and he had a lovely chat with them about that the good of God may mean hard, tough things but that God had helped him though it and wouldn’t they like that sort of great and wise and good Friend, too. Went nicely with “He rules the world with truth and grace and makes the nations prove...the glories of His righteousness, and wonders of His love...”

Forgive me for the photos that accompany my blog - I know they are a little odd at times but in the thick of gigs and stuff, grabbing the camera isn’t at the front of my mind... Although I like the photo on approach to Sydney - a tiny white toy opera house and Harbour Bridge peeking from beneath the clouds...

Anyhow,stay tuned, there’s more to fill in about The Silent Months...

3 days, 7000 k’s: Sydney to Port Douglas to Hobart to Launceston to...

Tue, 6 Nov 2007 09:42:21 +1100

View the photo album of Colin’s Cape to Tassie monumental trans-national 3 day dash this here...

When the TOYOTA-shaped hotline rings I always hope I am able to say “Yes!” to whatever gig may be in store... My “Yesses” to TOYOTA have taken me barramundi fishing in WA’s remote red Kimberley, up to Australia’s highest town, Cabramurra, for an intimate dinner to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Snowy Hydro Scheme (wrote House #163 after that one), into rural Victoria to sing over a homestead lunch with motoring journos, driving in the scrub around Parkes, NSW, in a new Prado with TOYOTA’s exec general manager, hosting and singing to a world-record line-of-TOYOTAs in the outback Queensland town of Thargominda...

So with a week to go before the Tassie dates of my Koorong tour (the last in the annual run) the hotline rings and this time it’s a call to head to Port Douglas, north of Cairns (on the top of that pointy bit on the right hand side of Australia, for my international readers!) It was always going to be tight, but I said, “I have a sound check in Hobart the next day at 3 pm. If you can get me there, I’m your man.” They could, so I was.

The event kicked off with a beach side unveiling of the new Landcruiser, the flagship of the TOYOTA range. It was a simple affair, involving a MIG jet, 10 Snowy River horsemen, 4 helicopters, a floatilla of boats and, of course, a bunch of shiny hero vehicles. (A little more elaborate than pulling a sheet off a car!)

I was the disembodied MC voice of the Great Aussie BBQ, a post-Landcruiser launch evening of fun and games around the pool at the Mirage, Port Douglas. (It’s where Bill Clinton was staying when the Sept 11 attacks happened.) I spent the evening spruiking the various games put on for the 400+ dealers, execs and their wives. (Favourite event was by far the Cane Toad Races!)

The gig ended on the sleepy side of 10.30 pm and 5 hours later I was up to drive the 60 km back to Cairns airport for a 6 am flight to Hobart, via Brisbane. Just before 1 pm and having covered over 3500 km, I stepped off the plane in my tropical clobber into a bitter southern breeze. Australia is a big country! Rheban Bradley, ever-reliable Koorong chum, was there to meet me with a blanket and a hot cup of cocoa...!

Sadly, due to lack of time, I missed my planned trip to the Cadbury chocolate factory. There was time for a quick lunch then straight to sound check. The show was a cracker, the locals, as ever, enthusiastic and always grateful to any performer who “crosses the ditch” to come to Tassie.

An early start the next day saw us wind our way north to Launceston via the usual stop for breakky at Banjo’s in Campbell Town, home of the Custard Croissant...(!?!@#!?) (I settled for bacon and eggs.) We rolled into the impressive Door of Hope facility and by around 2 pm, pumped but exhaused, I had the last show and signing behind me. (Thanks so much to all the wonderful Taswegians who came to the gigs! My Koorong run for 2007 definitely finished with a BANG!)

In the remaining hours, I dropped off Roadie Rheban at the airport and was free to fang the hire car around Evandale, just out of Launie. A short squiz at the impressive Clarendon homestead (saw the signs and thought, “Why not?”) then it was back to the airport, and before I knew it we were touching down in Sydney, the weary wanderer returning home after what felt like 7000 km but was, in fact, only 6978 km...

I could use lots of words to describe those three days, but dull certainly wouldn’t be one of them...

Look at the Cape to Tassie Photo Album here.

Another National Tour, no less...

Mon, 15 Oct 2007 16:14:31 +1000

I sit on the “done” side of the Koorong national tour, an exhausting, fulfilling, fun, chaotic experience which has been happening around this time each year for the last 10 years or so. Every year I promise myself I’ll take some pictures and share the experience and every year I run out of time and find myself with memories and not a lot more to share.

I thought that maybe my N95 camera phone may change that. It has, but not significantly! It seemed impossible at creating more time, wouldn’t take photos of me on stage on its own and, for all the hype, has an image quality inferior to even the most prehistoric dedicated digital cameras. I think I’ll put out a call to folks who came to see if we can’t score a pic or two to share.

So my personal album of the tour is both scant and eclectic - but I’ll pop it up just for the fun of it. You will find Colin's Sept/Oct '07 Tour Road Shots here.

A huge thankyou to everyone who came to the gigs - i can’t mention you all by name, but I can mention the towns and cities - Melbourne, Toowoomba, Brisbane, Mooloolabah, Gold Coast (Reedy Creek Baptist was a welcome ring-in), Canberra, Penrith and Ryde in Sydney, Adelaide and Perth. 14 shows all up. That’s 28 poppers, about 24 km of streamers, about 60 changes from spaceman to caveman to explorer and back, countless daggy dad jokes and puns, about 250 songs and a good few litres of water!

In terms of folks who came along, there’d be somewhere around 8000+ kids, parents, carers and grandparents who came to the shows. The signings took up to 2 and a half hours (!!!!) but it was wonderful to meet and chat and high-five lots of precious friends across Australia.

Now, to get to work on “Super Saviour” - and get out on the mountain bike again!