About a year ago I wrote a blog decrying the rise of remakes and cover versions of great classic songs. My conclusion was that in most cases the cover was definitely a pale shadow of the original. Well now is the time to say I was wrong. And what made me change my mind? A young man, aged 32, who can croon it like the best. Yes, my favourite Canadian import, Mr Michael Buble. I had the pleasure of seeing him in concert on Saturday night at the Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne and I (along with a sellout crowd of 11,000) was knocked out by his ability to deliver a range of love songs to an audience aged from eight to 80.

I was there by rather sneaky means. Our 17-year-old daughter is a fan, and so we gave her two tickets to the concert as a Christmas present – luckily she chose her old mother to share the treat. And what a treat it was to see so many of the audience sharing the special music, holding hands, singing together – husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends, just good friends, parents and children, and grandparents and grandkids – it seems everyone had turned out to see and hear the Buble magic as he performed old standards such as Sway, Call Me Irresponsible, Save The Last Dance For Me and You Were Always On My Mind. As it should be, the finale was indeed the highlight, with 14 backing vocalists, a dozen or more musicians delivering a spirited rendering of the Frank Sinatra classic, That’s Life – it was fun, it was lively, it was downright inspiring.
So don’t let anyone tell you romance is dead – it’s not – it’s just been repackaged!

Ready to sample some Buble magic? Click here for youtube videos of

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David’s Blog - “Mr Compost”

Do you ever stop to consider what the future holds for your children? What sort of world they will be living in and how it will differ from both your earlier experiences and even the present.
Unless you’ve been dwelling under a rock, you could not be unaware of “The Environment”! What is this thing called the environment and from where has it appeared? Why, only a few years ago, there was no talk, in the supermarkets and clubs, about the environment!

Now it seems that we are bombarded daily, from every quarter, about the seriousness of the situation, the dire threats to our way of life and even the survival of the species. We are exhorted, in the media and by our leaders, both locally and internationally, to be greener, leaner and keener in our pursuit of reducing, reusing and recycling.

For the older members of our cohort, these calls to action may stir distant memories of rationing in the forties and fifties and evoke the words of our parents when describing the “Great Depression”. But it’s a seismic shift for the baby boomer bred on consumption, and the economic tenet that the country’s prosperity equates to a steadily rising GDP!

So, assuming we’ve now managed to wrench our mindset away from continuous consumption and profligate waste, what can we, as individuals, do to address these environmental challenges? As with all fundamental and worthwhile change, when we attempt to redirect or redress long established “norms”, the task can appear just too daunting. Where to start? What impact can we, even as families or communities, possibly have on such a global challenge. Well, the old Chinese proverb, that even the longest journey starts with the first step, comes readily to mind.

Specifically, our first steps can be around our homes e.g. change all those old incandescent light globes to compact fluros, there are even “dimmable” versions available now, fit water-efficient shower heads, purchase a $3 egg-timer for your shower wall, divert the grey water from the bathrooms and laundry into the garden and, for the more adventurous, install that water tank, or those solar panels, or that heat pump. And then, there’s compost!

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Geoff’s Blog - A leap in the dark

It was dark last night at the farm. The wind was persistent as it blew its way across our west/east valley, leaving a somewhat disturbed sleeper even more restless than his current mental state. I achieved little as I tossed and turned and seemed to get nowhere in my efforts to cloud myself in a blanket of anonymous sleep.

It seems on reflection curious that I should try to get to sleep. It either comes or it doesn’t. No amount of trying will achieve the end result. So, in the end, I got up to attend to business emails, which had been neglected since I had spent yesterday travelling to and from a conference. As I rose, I was determined not to disturb the better half, so I did not turn on the light. All the rooms at the farm are simply furnished, and so I figured I would find my way to the study with no problem at all.

Because of the darkness I was plunged into disorientation. I made it through the kitchen by the light coming from the microwave menu. Then into the lounge room. Suddenly I lost it. No reference points.
Definitively out of my depth. Stumbling. Bumping. Groping for a reference point. I was effectively blind. Although within the safety of my home, I was disoriented and without direction. In that moment I had the sense of what it means to have no sight.

It could have all been solved if I’d turned on a light. But stubborn me, as I stumbled around, I was brought to mind with my other life stumbles.
Leaps in the dark. In lust, finance, moments of anger.  All of them in either a dark state of mind or in the dark of misinformation or willing blindness to reality.

What the parable teacher does when he meets blindness is to literally open eyes. Both of those who are blind and to those who are observers, to a claim that he makes about himself, “I am the light of the world.”

These sort of statements are at first blush, nonsense. We have light.
Every morning. It is this very light which makes things grow, whose lack of sunspots may send us into an ice age, whose rays ensure our very survival. What other light is there?

In the Hebrew legend of creation, when God says, “Let there be light,”
there is no sun or moon as yet created. Here is another light within the universe which undergirds everything within the created order.  The astute observers of Jesus knew this and his claim to be that very first thing in all creation, must have been like a dissonant chord within their minds.

How can a seemingly normal Jewish man claim to be that very force behind the life of the universe?
As Eliza Doolittle says in My Fair Lady, “Don’t talk of love- show me!”
And to their astonishment, that’s precisely what he does. He opens blind eyes to give light.

In the darkness which is often the inner me, I am caught both hiding from and wanting such light. Light to guide so I don’t stumble, but in asking for that, light which will reveal my inner recesses and life shadows. This is the tension of what some call a leap of faith. Having done it (with now no regrets) it is actually a leap into light with all that that implies. 

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