Maybe it's because my so-called best friend (yes, I mean mean you, Andrew Plozza, formerly of Trafalgar East) threw a bucket of cowshit over me in front of a group of friends in 1983, when I was 15, to distance himself from Trafalgar High School's token poofter; but I've always been a trifle insecure...
At the launch of the unauthorised biography of 3RRR tonight, I was constantly mentally pinching myself, reminding myself that I'm actually a part of such an amazing, integral part of Melbourne. I felt shy, awkward and out of place, so I did what I normally do in such circumstances: I got drunk, and I overcompensated for my nervousness.
To quote Radiohead:
"But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here ."
The fact that apprently I actually do have a place at 3RRR makes me realise how incredibly fucking special the station is, in that it has a place for neurotic bastards like me.
If you're already a 3RRR subscriber, please buy Mark Phillips' excellent book (published by the Vulgar Press) or come along to one of the 30th birthday events.
Alternatively, if you're a freeloading listener, please subscribe.
Thank you and goodnight.
No comments:
Post a Comment