Next Year (2002)

Everything by Sean Keenan & Brodie Milne

Rated M for language, sexual references, low level violence and adult themes

The Players:

Sean Keenan

Brodie Milne

Sandy Ralph

Flopsy Ralph

Buffy Keenan
Random Girl On Street

            What do you get when you mix a cheap home video camera, relatively amateur acting, terrible set design and 3 days of filming? To some, they see little more then what’s in front of them, a amateur ishly made home film, but with those who have a little patience and heart, they see a landmark.

           

Of course to truly appreciate this little ditty, you have to understand the stars and the era.

You see, Next Year represents more then just a comedy; it shows two guys at the zenith of their friendship.  Keenan - who was going through a personal crisis prior to filming Next Year - was on the mend; Milne was at his unassuming best and it was an epicentre of sorts for the corniness of Phil Collins, the baggiest of pants, awful hair dye and pretentious filmmaking. And so it came to be: having done some small sketch comedies a year earlier, Next Year represented a desire to make something professional and of decent length. The result was almost an hour of footage, edited down to the 28 minute final product.
It was filmed during 3 beautiful winter sunny days in Broken Hill..   Like Gone With The Wind or anyNext Year represents an era.  Of course it’s only a classic in a very small community, and no one is really comparing it to all the great movies of the past, but it does have its own legend.  Just ask Keenan, and to a lesser extent Milne.  It’s the harbinger of 2002, and offers great insight into how this pair acted to each other in the by gone days.  Yes folks, ladies and gentleman, I give you the umpteenth review on ‘Next Year’, but it is this review that is the most detailed, revealing look at the process of making the film and what the film means and stands for – which is a genuine landmark.

But what about Cilla?  Does she see the film and get a glimpse on a bygone era?  Brodie’s fiancé has seen the movie and so has her immediate family. Do they see that Next Year is a timepiece worth preserving forever?  Well perhaps, but mainly because of its content rather then it’s historical importance.  Next Year is nothing if not a comedy, and it’s on that level that it succeeds better than as a cultural reference point.

Next Year was filmed on July 16, 17 and 18, 2002 in Broken Hill.  Filmed at the boys own legendary school and both their backyards.  When Brodie Milne, Sean Keenan and Zane Parr went on one of their (really cool) Friday night walks in April of 2002, Keenan had an epiphany; After the night was concluded Keenan walked home along Lane Lane (Brodie’s place of residence) and decided to call the movie after a quote Milne was constantly saying at the time: ‘Oh well, there’s always next year.’  This quote said by Milne was never really a comical quote of course, but then the best quotes sometimes never really were that funny.  Keenan envisioned himself saying the same line at the end of the film with the words “NEXT YEAR” coming in place of the actual spoken words. It worked quite well in the end, but it would be the material in between the start and that quote that would become the stuff of legend.

Filming began on a Thursday afternoon at approximately 1 or 2pm with Keenan starting work at 4pm at the North Star Discount House.  Day One (as it was actually called in the film), started simply, the idea was to get an interview with Ty Davis in, plus get an amusing intro with another ‘violent’ sketch in.  A lot of people miss the cultural references in Next Year; the first one is the opening sketch. We see Milne killing Keenan with a ‘gun’.  This is actually what the boys used to do in high school. Keenan would feign being shot and fall all over everybody… comically annoying, yet fascinating. With the Ty Davis interview being deleted for the theatrical release, the intro includes only a small snippit of Milne emulating Ty Davis. Again another thing constantly parodied.  Keenan, who was obsessed with Genesis’ I Can’t Dance at the time, filmed a sequence of himself doing the dance. As with all crappily made home made films, a part of that made it into the feature.  The reason being Keenan taped over most of it with sketches filmed the second day but decided to keep a small part of the dance in the film.  Why?  God knows, but you see my point about constant cultural references.  All nonsense of course, yet more genius.

At this point it’s worth mentioning the boys had made 3 small sketch comedies before Next Year; all filmed in 2001. ‘Korny’, ‘Raven’, and ‘XTC’ were all short films but this doesn’t count as much experience. They went to make this film with a hands on approach; very little planning went into the film and with almost all of the dialogue ad-libbed it seemed like this project could possibly be doomed… and yet that feeling was never felt by the pair. In fact, this was indeed the most professional film Keenan and Milne had ever made.  And this is almost still the case. Basically, they had a vision.

Day 2, Wednesday July 18, 2002.  This was the legendary day Next Year was mostly filmed on and therefore, the most important day.  Although not a date massively regarded by Keenan and Milne, it is important nonetheless.  The day had begun much as the previous as one had; there wasn’t too much discussion, just a few ideas. The golf shot, filmed very quickly within 20 or 30 minutes (or less!) was an intriguing idea. Although a golf shot had been filmed in earlier productions, this one was the best and remains arguably Keenan’s favourite scene.  The Adam Gilchrist interview is possibly the best culture reference in the film.  The ‘err yes Mr Watts, brdies here’ quote was actually used at school the previous month. The fact that at the end of the sketch Keenan ran away from “Gilchrist” only proves that the whole thing was ad-libbed and that there was no planned ending. To end a sketch it simply had to ‘feel right.’ Furthermore, it was all filmed in one take!  Everything there was made up directly on the spot.  The jumping into the bucket trick may well be the signature sketch of the film; it certainly was Ariels favourite, and is probably the only part of the film people from all walks of life laugh at.  Again this sketch had been filmed the previous year, but this one was the best take. During the middle part of the day Keenan and Milne dined on beautiful chips and filmed at Willyama High School.  What is meant by this is that clearly Keenan and Milne were enjoying the day’s proceedings. It would be these sketches that made Next Year folklore.  Using Keenan’s mother’s toy ‘Lenny the lion’ who was at the time 44 years old (now 51), Keenan memorably committed suicide several times without actually dying.  The sketches could have been slightly better filmed and perhaps the last ‘jump’ shot could have been delayed a bit to allow the audience to laugh a little, but overall both boys were happy with the results. 

The rolling down the Willyama ramp is ridiculous, but funny, and it’s great to see the ladder falling on Keenan whilst he coughs up blood.

Like all great sketch comedies there are recurring characters, and sometimes even some sort of link between sketches. Next Year is simular in some respects to this, although, mostly Keenan was playing the character ‘Shen Kennan’.  Recurring characters were created but occurred sporadically.

Unfortunately, with Keenan being the more acclaimed actor and also a self-confessed camera hog, Next Year can sometimes appear very much like Keenan’s show, and yet, it is in this author’s opinion that it is actually Milne who is the funniest of the duo in the film.  Fortunately, Milne gets just enough screen time and gags in to justify his legendary place in history.  Indeed when Next Year is remade, or when another sketch comedy is created, Keenan has expressed interest in giving Milne bigger and better roles. Maybe just maybe, he could let Milne’s name appear first for a change.

Sandy Ralphs only appearance in the film has the look of Keenan ‘shagging’ her from behind. This is an unexpected advantage of the editing technique that wasn’t in the original screening of Next Year.  Keenan makes it look as if he’s rather shag Sandy then go to Modern History. Ralph didn’t see the film until 6 years later either.  The night’s activities were not as good as the days. There were some rather poor sketches involving a basketball game, trick photography and a trampoline, although there are still scattershot laughs in there, especially with a reference to masturbation and some silly camera work where Keenan (again) gets naked.  And of course you can’t forget the Monroe/Davis showdown – again filmed completely ad-libbed!  The best part of that skit is when Keenan tries to smash Milne with a broom and the broom hits the clothesline – totally unintentionally, which gives the movie spontaneity; some of the humour wasn’t planned.  Mostly though, the night’s activities are a little thin on big laughs. However that night did include Keenan’s ‘scene of the movie’. He does a strip show the cult hit ‘Start Me Up’. Luckily the boys didn’t have to secure the rights to the song for the DVD release…… The debate on whether Keenan should have dropped the toy revealing his penis is actually a simple one, yes he should have: The shot could have always been edited out for DVD release.

Keenan slept over Milne’s house that night, and then began the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ Day 3.  Opening the day with a very old tried and tested, trick photography sit and miss the chair skit, it was with the following scene that caused minor controversy with Keenan appearing in his first sex scene.  Although this was considered in slightly bad taste, all the great films always make you think and ponder. I cannot say what the people in Perth thought of this sketch!

A massively edited out cricket scene and another interview with Adam Gilchrist concluded the film before Keenan’s famous send off “Oh well Brdie, there’s always…” but too much has been made of that over the years.  Suffice to say however it was an ingenious send off.

Like so many films, the starting is the best before a gradual slide.  While this is the case for Next Year, it has enough gas left in it to see it to the end this is because it is only a half hour show.  Its humour is largely defined as slapstick with some corny stuff in there and some scatological humour; to a large extent it’s actually quite universal.

The final part of the DVD release includes a sketch that wasn’t originally in the film itself, and yet has taken on a life of its own. Keenan wanking and then ‘doing the dishes’ is a classic.  Filmed as a sneak preview for the never-to-be-released, ill-fated ‘Wankers Anonymous’, the scene has garnered much popularity.  It has essentially been classified as part of Next Year now, although Keenan says he’ll never add anything more recently released to Next Year.  The scene as it was was released 8 months after filming ended.  Further, Wankers Anonymous had some bad raps at the time, don’t believe the hype though, it’s a cut above the usual slapstick comedies and some scenes rival and top Next Years scenes.

            Keenan and Milne don’t pretend it’s a great film. There’s no pretension in Next Year; it is what it is.  Full Frontal used the same style crappy effects with very comic results.  Sometimes a shoestring budget helps a films humour, and that’s the case with Next Year. Theres no denying it could never be shown at a professional show of course, but there’s no intention of thinking that high up. You Tube might be the finale for Next Year. Not bad for a 7 year old movie. Despite its flaws, it’s redeemed by the strength of its convictions.

            Two best friends at their zenith, parading their sense of humour for all to see, citing cultural reference points and creating history as they went.  The film will no doubt be reviewed and watched many more times, and we hope that these two guys remain best friends forever.  LONG LIVE NEXT YEAR!!!!

Modern Life Is Rubbish

"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday..." sings Billy Joel on his first major hit, 'Piano Man' in 1973.  Like Billy, I can sing the same thing; except in my case, it's 9 o'clock am on a Saturday, sitting around doing nothing. At a glance, this doesn't sound too much like a supposed juxtaposition, AM and PM are after all simply opposites, but when you learn that usually I work on a Saturday morning you realises the plot thickens.

            In Januray 2009, I arrived in Townsville. This was the same place I'd visited just 5 months earlier on a Holiday, the same place which had been hailed as 'The Final Frontier'.  If you watch the movie 'The Life Of David Gale' you'll note one scene saying there is no such thing as the final frontier.  We humans always find something new to go on with.  Irrispective of anything, we always move on. After I arrived in Townsville I had more goals to achieve, hence, more frontiers to conquar.  I figured I'd be an 'adult' after High School ended. The reality much more brutal. Truth is you're still the same person you've always been.  There's no magical change over; things carry on the same like they always have.  In the song 'Once In A Lifetime', David Byrne sung  'Same As It Ever Was.' He was dead right.

            So why did I expect any major changes to occur in Townsville?  For one, I was living with my best friends again, Brodie Milne and Matt Paul - two guys who I loved dearly - and the fact that I had been to Townsville before and had fallen in love with the city. There was some sort of mystique about the place - but this mystique quickly dissapeared.  Within a month of living in the outer suberb of Condon I'd lost hope.  I remember distinctly going with Matt to the Townsville Dam and stopping at a field on the way home. As I smoked my cigarette, I recall trying to convince myself that I was looking forward to drinking that night and that it was a joy to be in this beautiful city. I was only fooling myself.  A sense of dread was creeping over me. Just a month in this city and already strains of panic gripping me. I wasn't enjoying myself. I wasn't loving it for reasons I cannot explain why.  Maybe because of lack of money at home there was jack shit to do, or, maybe it was because my idea of a good time entailed something more than sitting around just drinking 'n' chattin about particular subjects.  Either way, Townsville continued to suffer throughout the rest of the year without respite. There seemed no let up.  One average day after another.  Nothing I've done in the last year has been memorable. With no fulltime job, boredom took over completley. It ruled the roost. This dictated my new impression of Townsville. Gone were the happy images of Townsville, replaced with this new modern day monster. The name of Blur's 2nd album 'Modern Life Is Rubbish' rung very true in this time.  After a while I realised the people living here were complaining how small this city was. Yeah right. Yes compared to Sydney it is, but it's got more than enough interesting spots to accomadate me.  Townsville is Australia's 13th biggest city, it had a concert for Elton John, it held the V8 supercars in July 2009, it has a beautiful stretch of beach called 'The Strand'.  It doesn't lack anything except maybe for a Myers... and maybe a cool pool.  It's main disadvantage (as far as I can see for myself) is it's lack of numbers.  People frequently complain about certain nights being dead here when it would be alive and kicking in the 'Big City'.  Fuck off and live there if it depresses you so much.  In Broken Hill every night was dead save for Friday and Saturday night.  Sunday night is a hive of activity up here - Sunday in Broken Hill is the deadest night of the week. Townsville even has a cheap Tuesday night!!!  Admitedly I am from a much smaller town and I do recognise that Townsville isn't this holy grail, I no doubt would be in awe at some of the places throughout the world - but Townsville is pretty good, I just wish people could see it.  The grass truley is greener on the other side of the fence. 

All this negativity didn't help me out too much. Whereas originally Townsville couldn't put a foot wrong on my 2 holidays up here, now it couldn't seem to even stand up; In fact it fell down spectaculary. The 2 main friends I made in 2009 barely see me anymore, this is in part to my obscure personality, but either way it's not good news. At this point in writing I owe $1100, work just 5 hours a week and can barely support myself. UNdoubtedly there will always be someone who points out that they are in a worse position. I won't bullshit you, there definatley are people much worse off than me. But after a year of living in a room which i refer to as my prison cell, I've had enough. After a year on a poor diet with no work or friends and with a promising future in journalism always just beyond my grasp taunting me, I've had enough. However, saying 'I've had enough' means jack shit. This will continue on for some time. It cannot keep going on forever though, not because I have the ability to make it stop but because I cannot afford to continue living like this. It'll either kill me literally or force me to return to Broken Hill.  If I do return to Broken Hill, based on my experience from Townsville, I would not return. Townsville is a beautiful place, but it's not my home and has no special feeling with me anymore. I\ve realised for a place to be called home you have to have the right people there. This place has a few; nowhere near enough. It's not all Townsville's fault, some of it is mine because I have not been activley pursing sports etc, but I doubt I'd make friends this way.  This would mainly help to built a better physique and improve my confidence. It would help a lot however.

But something needs to change. Mentally I've never been in a worse state. 2007 I decreed as my worst ever year. Technically, my feelings are even worse this year. I've realised that since the break up of my last major girlfriend Tanya Balman occured in October 2006, my happiness has been absent. I'm beginning to think I am showing signs of depression. 2010 seems it will follow suit like every year since 2006 ended. Brodie Milne, (my great friend who is reviewed on this site) is a major help, as is Matt Paul, but I'm the only one who can dig myself out of this hole. Salvation lies within.

So I stand here alone at the crossroads. If nothing changes by May 2010, I have a big decision to make. Either way I'm going to go out with a bang or with a long drawn out whimper. Read into that what you will.

            So onwards and upwards! Lets get into the job hunting again right now.

Cunning Linguistics

Jump starting the river. Jillin' off. Dialling 'O' on the pink telephone. Enjoying a little southern comfort. The 5 digit disco. What's the common link between these 5 slang terms? I think you can probably guess.

Human beings are among the most hedonistic creatures on the planet; we consider ourselves somewhat intellectual beings capable of creating a broad spectrum of ideas: manufactured flight, virtual reality, cinema, sport, music and humour are just a small list of the wonders that human beings have created.

But when push comes to shove, humans are really just creatures of basic instinct that can get down to their primal urges quick smart. Nothing brings us down to our animal instincts quite like sex can. One superb substitute for sex when you're unable to 'get any' is masturbation.

Certainly masturbation has been considered taboo since almost the dawn of time. In the early 1900's scientists and professors regarded masturbation as a violation of the moral law and of oneself's body and mind. Stories of going blind or growing hair on their hands were used to repulse young boys from doing 'the act'. Indeed this author used to check the palm of his hands everyday from age 13 from hearing passed-down variations of stories like these. These anecdotes have in more enlightened times been proven to be untrue.

It hasn't always been scorned against. In ancient Eygpt it was believed that the god Atum created the universe through masturbation. Some Eygptian Pharaohs would even be required to ceremonially re-enact this scene into the Nile River!

But what about female masturbation? One rarely talks about a woman pleasuring herself in general conversation, but why is it ok to talk about men when they are, shall we say; beating off, jacking off, flogging the the log or chocking the chicken? Well I would suppose it has become more socially acceptable as men are proud beasts who would not be embarrassed caught talking about such things with his mates.

Most (let's just say all) men have masturbated at least once in their life (yes, that dude in the same room as you right now probably even did it today - just don't ask him). True, a majority of woman have too, but it's far less frequent than when a man would do it. This can also extend to sex in general: My best friend could go for it every night of the week - probably even twice (or more)! But he has to settle for the conventional 2 or 3 times a week (if he's lucky).

Various people have speculated on why females masturbate less - most people agree it's sex drive. At least part of the answer is put down to fluctuating hormones, which means the female's drive is not as consistent as the males.

Society seems to depict men as wanting sex all the time and females as being restrained. In the film Horrible Bosses, Jennifer Aniston's character is consistently trying to force herself onto Charlie Day's character and his two friends cannot understand why this is a bad thing. If the roles were reversed it wouldn't be funny, it would probably be considered sleazy. Why? A majority of guys would love a sexy woman to seduce them, while for the girls, they have enough males hitting on them to be selective and hence they can be just as dismissive. This is a very broad way thinking I realise, but it has a germ of truth to it.

So why don't girls flick the hood as much as guys jerk the gherkin? One way to address this question might be to say that a woman may be wired differently when it comes to sexual arousal. They seem more advanced then the primitive males, requiring more input than just sensory sensations. Males usually require just one aphrodisiac to get them in the mood, ergo, they can masturbate at any given time with relative ease.

However a multitude of aphrodisiacs or 'turn ons' is required for the female and therefore it is more difficult for her to become aroused, generally speaking. At the very least, they require a type of input that differs from the male. This may give us insight as to why the female orgasm is supposed to be akin to a nuclear explosion going off.

Certainally when called upon a woman can be just as sexually savage as a man. Writer Isabel Allendue once famously said, 'For woman the best aphrodisiac is words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below is wasting his time.'

Maybe that puts female masturbation into prospective; it simply doesn't qualify as a substitute for the real thing.

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Sean's Soapbox: How Good Do Girls Have It?

As a male I'm consistently frustrated by how often a woman complains how difficult she has it in the dating world. This might be a bit of a controversial view, but as I am a male, it's no surprise that I would draw my conclusions from my viewpoint. A friend of mine in Broken Hill who is in her early 40's wrote a post on Facebook complaining how men treat woman. I found out she had fornicated with a few men, some of which were in their mid 20's and loved being single. I was enraged when I read that post. Here I was, a decent, nice enough guy who always treated everyone with respect, reading a post about someone who can get sex at the click of her fingers, with men much younger, and still had the audacity to complain about the small details.

Some of my female readers might suggest these 'small' details are quite pertinent. I might agree, which is why I decided to become a female and see what men were really like.

I'm always annoyed by memes on Facebook which make the girl out to love the tender emotional side in relationships and the guy just wanting sex. A recent news story reported a man faked a female profile on a dating website and could not handle the harassment, quitting the site after only 2 hours. Bullshit I thought. I'm getting sick and tired of all this one way traffic. Theres an analogy that I can use as a metaphor here: you can have a hundred channels on Pay TV and they can be all crap. Thats how I'm portraying a females relationship prospects. I'm a Broken Hill TV circa 1992 with only ABC and Seven as the channels. Variety is the spice of life, and I'd much prefer to have 100 channels of crap. I understand the annoyance of going through all the shitty channels only to find a few moderately ok ones, but this is akin to a millionaire complaining about there being too many car models on the market.  

Talk about reinforcing a stereotype. No wonder I can't get laid.

I joined the dating site Plenty Of Fish on June 30 last year. In that time I have had 25 profile views and 10 meet me requests. I was beginning to feel like a depressed, unattractive loser. I needed to see what a girl would experience on POF because I had heard it was equally unpleasant in it's own separate. So I created a fake account on Plenty Of Fish using first, a very attractive girl, and then a moderately 'average' girl. The 'average' girl's account was at the time of writing created about 2 hours ago and has 27 profile views and 11 meet me requests. I created the attractive girls profile last Thursday and have gotten 377 meet me requests. There are too many profile views to count. A common criticism I've been told is the staggering amount of sleazy messages that you are bombarded with. I did not find any problem here, everyone was generous.

I want to be as fair as possible when performing this experiment and one day for a proper paid published article I would like to thoroughly explore all the details I might be skimming over; however for now, I feel justified my quick view of the woman dating world on POF is justified. I wish I had it as good as a girl does. Relationships are such an important thing in life.

I can't get a root to save my life, save going to a brothel. Ladies have a plethora to choose from. They get to choose from if not the cream of the crop, then a vast array of men. Please ladies, understand it is achingly depressing hearing you moan about men when all some of us want to do is have a stimulating mental encounter with you.

Pink sings in the song You + Your Hand: it's just you and your hand tonight. Yeah, that's me and a lot of other males every night of the week.

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If you're old enough to remember the early 90's then you'll remember the hysteria surrounding the first generation of first person shooter games like Hexen, Wolfenstein or Duke Nukem. For myself there was one that always that stood above the rest. Doom. In the 20 years since it's release it still holds up well, albeit now firmly in the nostalgia section of our mind. I downloaded an emulator for 68k Macintosh computers to relive it again and the experience was good rather than great. That's when I noticed this trailer doing the rounds online...

8 bit graphics have never looked so good

Holy hell. If only we could parcel this version up and send it back in time. It's still the same game, same graphics, same sounds and same music. If you watched that trailer above however, you'll see it's an astonishing improvement over the original version. The destruction of the bodies blown apart by the all new gun range is just one of the many new features to love about this game - and there's quite a few new features to love. The ability to talk, the ability to jump (which will now get you out of those annoying situations where you are trapped in a pit or something), the ability to tear enemies up with your bare hands and even the ability to fly.
Purist of Doom won't be disappointed either as Brutal Doom is quite literally the same game. It requires a program like Zandronum or PrBroom to function and uses the WAD files of the original Doom series. That means the biggest hurdle of getting this game and playing it is finding the original WAD files. I tore my hair out trying to find them as I'm pretty computer illiterate, but when I finally did get the game up and running, I felt embarrassed by how easy it is.

In an era of Minecraft and other games which revert back to the retro look of 8 bit graphics, Brutal Doom fits into this modern trend seamlessly. Looking at it purely from the perspective of the modern gamer in 2014, Brutal Doom is a great game. Playing the original Doom, Doom II or Final Doom has a novelty factor in it and leaves you satisfied having quenched your thirst for nostalgic first person shooter games after about an hour. Brutal Doom does not have such a novelty factor. This game can be enjoyed (immensely I might add) to the teenage gamer or the novice who's never even heard of the series. It's an extremely violent, fun, satisfying variation on the granddaddy of all first person shooter games and it stands up and exceeds more modern varieties of the genre.

Doom has finally been given immortality.

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Recent Thoughts On The Beach

I might as well be on a remote desert island. The wind whistles through my laptop and it silences the orgy of flesh that is at the waterpark not 50 metres behind me. A one legged seagull to my left watches on. It sure is a beautiful setting here. Peace and serenity all around.

The drive down here from Kelso took half hour easy. I was swearing my head off at someone in front of me who was doing 2 kilometres below the limit. My friend Brodie had told me to get out a little more during these holidays. I decided to risk looking like a fool and head down to the beach to do a little typing and take some pictures.

I had Subway when I got down here, but I forgot my bowel likes to a have a 'movement' after i eat, so I'm sitting here half in 'peace and serenity and half in hell.

Speaking of hell, I managed to get the game Brutal Doom working. Since Doom is older than any teenager is, it's source code was realised to the public which caught the eye of graphic designing gamers. They would then modify it to make it better or to whatever the hell they want. These things are called 'mods' and there's been a few awesome releases in the past few years. Brutal Doom takes it to its graphic extreme. What's most impressive about it is that's it's basically the same game, Just it's been amped up to the max. Totally new guns, better sounds, and extreme 8 bit violence. If you're going to play Doom again and don't want to be disappointed by it's dated gameplay, Brutal Doom will keep your nostalgia in check.

The seagull has just flown off and so must I. If you're interested in hearing more amusing anecdotes, I encourage you to just click the ad at the top of the screen, you don't have to stay on the ad page, you can just close it immediateley. Just a very quick and simple way for you to endorse your encouragement. Thank you so much.

Big Day Out Review

by Sean Keenan

It was 29 going on 45 degrees at Metricon Stadium and I had already finished my second bottle of water by the time I reached the appropriately named “Boiler Room” where Peking Duk was performing. I arrive near the end of their setlist and found myself walking almost slow motion-like into a crowd scattered. The audience were singing in their best falsetto voices to a sample of 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight'. I approach the middle of the tent with trepidation - and that's when it happens….what I can only describe as a sudden wall of sound building slowly and the crowd tightens in unison engulfing me. Then it reaches critical pitch…the baseline drops and I'm hit with the sonic boom of sound and an earth shattering crowd roar explodes. Bodies jump up and down and pandemonium ensues.

This was my introduction to the day's proceedings.

A man wearing a 6 foot long Indian Headdress bumps into and spills his beer all over another man who's dressed as Robocop, unusual smells not normally associated with a lavatory, surreal conversations with strangers about what music tastes like and more female flesh (with a lot of sunburn) than you’d find in Playboy!

My first interview is scheduled and the nerves are building as I am ushered in to the backstage area.

"Yeah and at this one gig, we were literally shooting vodka into the crowd," Adam Hyde, one half of Peking Duk, gleefully exclaims when I inquired about some of their past gigs. These guys were as awesome in person as they were on stage; two down-to-earth best friends just loving life and the music.

Bluejuice were performing early in the day and I was standing at an ATM when their biggest hit 'Broken Leg' echoed through the walls of Metricon Stadium. Having conquered my “country boy” self-consciousness, I found myself singing out loud, complete with hand movements and an Air Guitar solo.

From there, I rush over to my next interview in the backstage area with a couple of the members from Loon Lake. Frontman, Sam Nolan forgave my nervousness at my first time interview and explained to me aspects of the band's sound and their video clips. It was interesting to hear his thoughts on the video for their single 'City Lights' (he wasn't a fan) and how they spend their downtime.

To avoid sunstroke I escaped to the shade of the red stage to chill. Later folk rockers “The Lumineers” were met with deafening crowd love and were possibly the highlight of the day. The beautiful and melancholy 'Ho Hey' was performed during the beautiful twilight period. It was a great preamble for the evening’s gigs and I was left positively charged.

Blur may not have made the trip down under, but Metricon Stadium's debut Big Day Out was hypnotic – add to this, the experience of having the privilege of interviewing Peking Duk and Loon Lake - I can't wait to come back and do it again next year!

Everything In It's Right Place

By Sean Keenan

But I'm not, not sure,

Not too sure how it feels

To handle every day

And I miss you love

The threatening weather stirring about outside brings an unexpectedly haunting atmosphere to the music I'm listening to. It's an overcast, murky winters day in early June 2001 and I'm sitting at the computer listening to Ms Jackson by Outkast, talking to someone in England on a pre-myspace era app called ICQ.  All the cool people are here, including that one particular girl. The one who makes you understand why mournful lovesongs are written, who takes your hand and shows you whats behind the curtin. The one who changed the cerebral landscape forever. Im too wrapped up in the now to notice let alone comprehend the significance of the coming months. In the recesses of my mind this memory lingers - unknowingly dancing precariously around a black hole. There would perminatley be a before and after from now on. That mournful decending synth line of Ms Jackson is the ticket for a train ride directly into the heartland of the hallucinagetic, impossibly beautiful madness of mid 2001.

It was February.
Luke Hojeij and I were joking around during one of the less interesting martial art activities of the evening. Lee Hermanson, our Tae Kwon Do instructor was just going through the motions by this point. Another day another dollar. Tae Kwon Do had become more a social gathering than a training ritual. The class was the epitome of mediocre and were still passing the gradings because passing meant more money in the bank for Lee. Even I slackened off. Luke was great. He made me crack up. This one particular evening the class were in two rows on the ground going through stretches and our warm ups. Luke quietly made a sexual groaning gesture as he looked up at the girl in the row behind us, she was laying down on the ground with her legs wide open in a type of stretch position. I had a laugh.This girl was another generation of newbies. These newbies usually got to green or blue belt then quit because of the appalling quality of the teaching, and probably because they were no better at fighting than when they had started. 

I knew this girl from from my Year 8 dance class. I referred to her as Nala because for some reason she reminded me a little of a Lion, in particular, Simba's girlfriend from 'The Lion King'. Nala and I had had almost nothing to do with each other. We were from separate sides of the fence and aside from that awkward dance class, I knew nothing more of her.

There was some acknowledgement that we went to the same school in the coming months. She became part of a new network of friends that was unfolding in the wake of ICQ and my first job at the local supermarket. Megan McCarthy, Samantha Richards and Claire Hogan are just some of the hotties I was beginning to talk to more. My best friend Brodie Milne had just come through a coming-of-age period and was enjoying his first great era. This was turning out to be quite a different year to the previous few; new people, new ideas, new outlook.

-there are 2 colours in my head-

The pin number I chose for my brand new bank account has its ties with the following events - a pin number that I keep to this day. It was the legendary May 19 sleepover and my lord, what fun. Brodie Milne at the peak of his powers. Funny as fuck. Its the type of fun you can't appreciate when you're older. That night we watched the movie Shaft, played AFL 99 with Essendon beating Fremantle 1149 to 0, watched some pornography and played night cricket. As if that wasnt enough, that was the night Nala added me on ICQ and spoke to me for the first time.

I opened up a little to Nala that night. I wasnt intimidated and was brimming with confidence. The message history of that conversation is well lost the the eons of time but I still remember bits and pieces. I remember saying that my jokes were so bad that they should be in jail, (egh) and explained to her my insecurities on my social status at Willyama High School. I told her that she was part of the 'cool' group and she adamantly denied that. The movie we were watching, Shaft, was almost over. We'd spoken for over an hour. I told Nala I was headed off. She simply stated 'is that it?'

What amazes me in those days was that time seemed to creep by so so slowly. The time frame from that ICQ conversation to our first 'date' was only 16 days. She went from nothing, then to acquaintance and then to close friend in that time frame. An eternity in my life at the time.

The annual high school disco was held on Tuesday June 5 and I met up with Nala at the shindig in the early evening. Shortly before heading out The Whitlams' 'No Aphrodisiac' came on Music Max and that song was the setting to our soon to be romance. She took a while to get there I remember. I remember wandering around the courtyard feeling like a loser as the music echoed out through the hall. It was cold.
Later, well after she'd arrived and the night was well underway, we sat down by the side and talked. Brodie and I had this mock-posh joke way of talking occasionally which was used to great comedic effect in my conversations with Nala. She'd crack up at me.

"Daniel Marcon asked if he could get on with me." she said. That's slang for make out.

"I know why you didn't." I replied with sureness. "This is what you've got to say to him if he ever asks you again: ah gooday Daniel Marcon, ah how you going? Ah, I don't want to get on with you, because you're bloody ugly."

"Now do you know what this basketball hall where our disco is, is mainly used for?" I asked. We use it for many purposes, p.e classes, assembles, sports, awards... but do you know what this basketball court is mostly used for?"

"What?" she replied

With a Dr. Evil happy look on my face when he says 'One Million Dollars' I leaned forward and said: "Basket - ball!".

Then the first bounces of Robbie Williams' Rock DJ came on. I imagine us slow motion rocking out in the middle of the mosh, arms flailing without a care in the world, two odd juxtapositions capturing eye contact and for a fleeting moment were in perfect harmony. The fade out goes on and on. The feeling indescribable to anyone who wasnt there; It was my Woodstock.

I remember that walk home. Years later I found out the melancholy Pyramid Song by Radiohead was released in that very week in Australia. That starry night with the bright lights of Willyama fading behind me - now encoded into that song. That night I saw a quote in Megan McCarthy's ICQ info that ive always liked:

Someday your prince charming will come. Mine just took a wrong turn, got lost, and is too stubborn to ask for directions.

The mobile phone technology was, in retrospect, pretty primitive. I had a brick phone with Nalas number in it and was still during an era when I couldn't figure out how to message her back. I was in the cinema with a bunch of friends watching 'The Gift' at the time we first messged one another. I remember trying to message her back later at my cousins 18th. The party was out the back - I ventured out the quiet and lonely front trying to figure out how to text her. I yearn for that night again.

All this time we continued to speak on ICQ learning more about one another. I learned about her insecurities, how she cried herself to sleep some nights. I learned about her life, the way she treated friends, her openness to try new things and experiment. This was such a far cry from my way of life at the time. In my adult years I would be inspired by her method.

Then there were the antics in Ms Hunt's English class. Having begun the year as an outsider, I went mainstream because of my friendship with Nala. Suddenly I was the buzzword. I was finally having my moment in the sun after being a forgettable student just making up the numbers for years. Even my sense of humour seemed to be entering the zeitgiest: my idol Shaun Micallef brilliantly and hilariously hosted the logies that year. I finally felt understood and valued.

I recall Heath Williams was reading out aloud this shitty book we were reading in English. I forget the name now. Everyone took turns. I looked ahead to the other page and saw a rather amusing quote. It was an innocent enough, but I thought to myself, if I let a little snigger when Heath reads that, I should be able to get a bit of a laugh because of the double meaning. So I waited. Heath approached the part and I sniggered. The class found themselves in hysterics and I got sent out of class. 

Legend. The quote was: 'Is Sean coming?"

Mid 2001 was filled with these beautiful little moments. I began to enjoy the little aspects of my new friend like her odd quotes in her ICQ info. 'Bend, bend, bend, SNAP! Fuck I hope no one saw that. Brock did.' went one. Then there were surreal quotes from Radiohead songs. I enquired about this one and many others, most Ive unfortunately forgotten now.

We had a date to go to the movies one Saturday night, I remember my sister was playing 'The Sims' earlier that evening and now the game forever reminds me of this night. We went and saw 'The Mexican' and it was mediocre - though its stature has since skyrocketed for obvious reasons. I remember Nala mocking some old duck in the cinema who was laughing at everything that Brad Pitt was saying. Nala's parody laugh was a classic.

At this point there was no denying our chemistry. I decided to take the plunge. On Friday night, on June 22, I told Nala to look at my ICQ info. My info read 'Will you go out with me?'. She quickly messaged me with a 'yes'.

This was a defining moment I thought as I drifted off to sleep that night. However, this was merely Hors d'oeuvre, for the main course came the following weekend.

I was watching Burnside with my mum waiting for her to drop me off at Nala's house. The wait was a long one. The little details I remember still take my breath away. This was to be the one and only time I was to enter that house in Iodide Street. All I remember now of that house was there was a lot of laundry around the place and meeting her little dog Max. Searching the internet for the scene in the movie that was on Pay TV that night at her house I finally found we were watching Jawbreaker. I have a faint memory of her showing me a desktop wallpaper of tractors and saying that this image scared her.
Later we would go into her room and share our first kiss.

"Oi, are you and picko goin out?" asked Heath Williams in English class. I proudly pledged in the affirmative. It was a trending topic.

The only known picture of us. I'm middle back, face obscured, Moses parted hair. She's on my right.

In the photo above which I've forgotten the date I distinctly remember Lee (back far right), had just had an unsually short haircut and in preparation for the photo, Lee was walking around directing people where to stand. I had said out loud 'Nice haircut Lee' in the trademarked Keenan/Milne accent. Nala laughed. She recalled the moment as 'the whole room just went silent as you said it. 

Magical. I'm very appreciative that this one photo exists.

Nala's last great moment came at my new friend Matt Paul's house on Friday, August 3. I had work early the next day and had one of my parents picking me up at 12. We were sitting around the campfire sipping vodka telling anecdotes and ghost stories. This is the night I had my first true sexual encounter. My feelings capsized. I had fallen in love. 

Little did I comprehend how vulnerable I was now.

Two and a half months had built to this crescendo. As she left around 10:30 to go to another party, she invited me to go with her and her best friend to get her ear pierced the following day. I met her best friend Abby properly for the first time that day. I remember looking at her as she sat down on the table with love in my eyes for the first time. 

I experienced my moment in the sun in that one look. For the breifest moment I was experiencing pure love and happiness. Then it was over.

The site of Brodie Milne's old house at 626 Lane Lane. I spoke to Nala for the first time on ICQ here. The house was destroyed in a fire in 2008. The trees in the background was part of the landscape where we played cricket regularly.

Monday came and Monday went. I threw a message written on paper over to her in English class on Tuesday enquiring about her trepidation since Monday, I didn't get a satisfying response. My memory is a bit fuzzy on the day, but I think the next day after Tae Kwon Do, I rung her up. She told me she was going to have a break from me. I hung up and cried and cried and cried. The era was over.

Being all of 16 I didn't handle the love and rejection thing too well. I destroyed any hope of friendship with my relentless clingyness. I have only myself to blame for that but also I forgive myself a little, I'd never experienced this before and had no idea how to react. The following month the September 11 attacks happened and that cemented mid 2001 as history. My childhood was over. The age of innocence was over. We now lived in a new world.

I went into what I call 'The Great Depression Period" and the new year brought about no respite. I would not really recover until late 2002 and even then, still longed for her well into 2004. Never has one person had such a profound effect - never will someone again. It was lighting in a bottle and destined to have a sad ending. I couldnt understand why she didnt love me.

...but she didn't...

2001 came to a close in a love fuelled angry rage. I was crying literally everyday. Whatever momentum that was building from my job and the new people in my life was immediately ended. The post August period is the blackist of my life. I can still feel the overwhelming sadness. I realise now as I was realising then that the world doesnt bend its rules for you.

I got on ICQ every opportunity I had to talk to her and every single time I pissed her off. The image above was a frequent desktop wallpaper that I had during these talks. It still makes me feel helpless. She was cold to me many, many times after this. I'd prefer to focus on the good times. I do need to establish what happened afterwards however...

Later Developments

By June 2002 I had disappeared somewhat into my own life. I was dating Helen Beggs in June when Nala and I rekindled our friendship. She threw me a message in class stating she might be interested in me again - to say I was at a loss for words is the ultimate understatement. Between periods I went into the toilets and cried tears of pure happiness. I thanked whoever was looking out for me over and over. I couldnt believe it. My faith in life was being restored.This however, was merely an aberration. This was a completley different year to 2001 and my confidence levels were nowhere near the same. The May to August time period I would later come to call the 'Oasis Period' because it was a time of happiness amid a torrid year. It was a reprieve during the great depression. I remember I was performing a dance at the local repertory theatre and talking like we might be working things out. The conversation was choppy and awkward, however.

I invited her over my house the following Friday night and she stood me up. A fight broke out. It was over. I had barely enough time to savour my second chance. The depression hit hard again.

In the early days after the breakup I was able to get some support from a friend of hers online. Luke was his name. We seemed to hit it off just fine, but I was growing increasingly paranoid about the nature of their friendship. Luke McCarron was working as a gym instructor and one night she had  put in her ICQ info 'Luke is a muscleman'. She was moving on.

My heart sank in 2003 when my friend Matt told me she was dating him. By now, I was already very unpopular with her but a sensationally awful event at a friend of hers house in early August 2003 was to severe all ties between us completley. I was to never recover from this. I never spoke to her again.

Having accidently gotten her number in late 2005 and having put memories of her out of my mind for about a year, I couldn’t resist the oppurtunity to reach out to her again. I messaged her asking if she would ever consider me again. I didnt get a reply by text but my friend who worked with her told me she had told him to tell me "maybe in another lifetime"... and also that Luke was very pissed off about my message.

In 2006 I read in the classifieds of her engagement to McCarron - by that time I had moved on but still had feelings for her. I remember feeling happy for her, although the engagement didn't last long. Another three years later in 2009, I added her as a friend on Facebook and was promptly declined. I decided the next time I would contact her would be many years down the track - if ever.

4 years went by and my life had changed so much, I was living in Townsville and living with the legendary Brodie Milne following a two and a half year relationship which had recently ended. I was excited about the future. I had a dream about Nala for the first time in years and in it, we had made peace and were friends. When I woke up it finally became clear to me. I wanted closure. I wanted this chapter to have an ending. It deserved that much. In February 2013 I built up the courage to click the 'Add Friend' button on Facebook again... and nothing happened. She didn't accept it nor did she decline. It was limbo. I decided in that time that if this request was declined, I would never contact her again. If she accepted, I forsaw a mementous healing moment; a time for burying the hatchet and being grateful such a beautiful, significant person from my past could be a small part of my life again.

My life went through a very surreal few months before I decided on what was to be my final chess move in this whole saga. Not being able to message her because of privacy settings I got an old friend of hers, Emily James, to send her a music clip and the phrase 'there are 2 colours in my head', a reference to her old ICQ info and something of which she would remember of me. I thanked Emily for her effort and went to sleep and few days later I went online to check up on Nala's Facebook page. Where the 'waiting responce' had been, now showed instead a button which read simply 'Add Friend'.

***************

Epilogue

While we watched 'The Mexican' back in June 2001, I was spitting into my hankie as I hated the build up of excess spit which always seemed to accumulate when I’m sitting down for extended periods. Midway through I turned to Miss Picken and jokingly said 'Wanna hold my hankie??' which was pretty well soaked. Having immediately felt awkward at such a gross joke, I felt immediately awkward... but Jess, almost sencing my uneasiness, first looked at me, then with a smile just reached out her hand and said 'Sure' then watched on as my face lit up and turned into laughter.

'You met me at a very strange time in my life' - The Narrator










The JP Double CD

Everything In Its Right Place - Radiohead
Sing - Travis
Drops Of Jupiter - Train
Drive - Incubus
Ms Jackson - Outkast
Right Here, Right Now - Fatboy Slim
No Aphrodisiac - The Whitlams
Pyramid Song - Radiohead
Criminal - Fiona Apple
With Arms Wide Open - Creed
Miss You Love - Silverchair
Where Is My Mind? - The Pixies


Slice Of Heaven - Dave Dobbyn
Love Is Alive -Kate Ceberano
Jump On Board - Robbie Williams and Kylie Minogue
Starlight - The Supermen Lovers
Murder On The Dance Floor - Sophie Ellis Bextor
It Just Won't Do - Tim Deluxe
Millenium - Robbie Williams
Thank You - Dido
Just The Thing - Paul Mac
Rock DJ - Robbie Williams
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm - The Crash Test Dummies
Constant Craving - k.d lang