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 Sydney 1977-1980

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Billy Ruben
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PostSubject: Sydney 1977-1980   Thu Apr 04, 2013 3:13 pm

...This is how it really was,Inner Western Sydney,when a conclusion of two wars converged and met,in Lakemba,the home of my highschool.Before,it was a white,middle class little bastion,my little Adam Street home,stuck between Campsie and Croydon Park,horse and cart was common,as were GT XY Falcons,Holden Sandmans,GTS Monaros and those magnificent Toranas.Of course for straighjtline performance,Mopars_Valiants,ate them all,just didn't corner or stop,rendering useless,except for the skilled driver,in bank jobs and get aways.The crime was mainly Polish in origin,well,they sold my uncle his heroin distribution,before Trimbolli dissappeared to Spain,surrounded by parks,reserves,a dead end street,Canterbury Racecourse,just over the disgusting polluted Cooks river,a solid pile of Industrail Sludge in many places.Belmore Boys High,who were announced as the worst school in the state,live on radio,playing out through the speakers placed around recreational and assembly areas,beating Redern Highschool and it's aboriginal communities.Fist punched the air,cheers and screams of delight,the school erupted.

They were playing this alternative radio station,2JJ,with an attempt to quell racial violence within the school,getting punched out,over a game of marbles,like I did,was'nt uncommon.Did'nt do it for the lunch money,just to show,you're hard enough to survive,it was the Italians,I never put a foot wrong with back then,came this new breed...
and they meant business.The Vietnamese,never troubled me,very,very nice people and their gangster types,just stare at you,unless you're stupid enough to want their attention.
A slight nod of recognition,when eyes meet by mistake and you're dismissed straight away.Their food,like their women,are the finest in the world.Not only the first to exhaust and beat the Americans in a futile attritional war,should even command respect,with hard right wingers,who only give respect,if you kick their arses.

Bombed them,shot them,agent orange them for the next ten generations,pulverised,atillery strikes,more ordinance than the whole of World War Two was thrown at these guys...and they came,in little leaky boats,wet,cold starving,in boats only designed for estuary work,with no keels and flat bottoms,sinking not all making it,evident,as those that did,were carrying the remains,decks that people can't move,wedged,with survivors.decks awash,with sewerage,vomit.

Hardened and resourceful,respected them.

But Allahs boys,they had hang ups.I know,I know,most Lebanese that were flown in Christians,but some,had dissident Islamic breakaways,posing as Christian,to get in to the country,then converting to a form of street terrorism.My first meeting was eight years old,
waiting for the two Michelles from up the street.One of them,was feeling my erection and she talked about how her parents swung.I learnt a lot from her and would like to meet her to this day.But here I was,the next day after exploratory handwork,leaning on a car,waiting for her return,so we could play on the swings that afternoon.

Not watching for a moment,fiddling with the handgrips on my bike,a blunt butterknife cuffed my throat and standing before me was a fat mean twelve year old,with two gangsters of five or six years of age.Spits when he speaks,I endure it,"What's your sex life", he demands,"I'm eight years old,I don't have a sex life",not realizing,maybe I did.He looks bewildered,stunned by the truth.He walks away,him and the gang.No ammunition or aggression to answer too,it difused.I remember thinking,I was scared for a moment,giving it away,trying not to laugh at the blunt butter knife.
But he meant business.I went on to make friends with the Lebanese and got free bread given too me walking with them, on the way to school,best fried chicken I ever had and seen red putty hash,blocks,the size of pillows,that you lay your head on at night.Water tanks were converted into whiskey stills,the old man of the family toast his own and laughs and jokes,about not being killed or shot for it,anymore.

Those were different times....


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PostSubject: Re: Sydney 1977-1980   Thu Apr 04, 2013 4:45 pm

Popular song at the time,played often late night on channel sevens Afterdark,even Donnie Sutherlands,think it was Sounds of the 70's.But very important amongst Australias punk rising,a favourite,besides Radio Birdman,The Boys Next Door, and Detroit imports,like The Stooges and MC5.

X,from Sydney,can not be forgotten as a force,that is important in thisd punk direction.

Enjoy The Saints,Stranded.








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