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Hello Friends

I hope that you are all enjoying the summer as much as I am. Melbourne's weather has played havoc with many plans based around outdoor activities, but nevertheless I have taken full advantage of what the conditions have thrown at me.

A couple of weeks ago I was fortunate to score an exceptionally delightful weekend in the regional town of Echuca-Moama. It is a much better climate up there than in the city and so it was a welcome respite from the perpetual inconsistency. I'd never driven that far north in Victoria without crossing the border, and it really is a beautiful place. Situated on the banks of the Mighty Murray (which seems to be the tagline for this hydrological catchment area) there are many wonderful things to do. The family and I managed to take a riverboat tour on a 110 year old paddle steamer that proved to be a very relaxing way to spend an afternoon. A few trips across the bridge into New South Wales caused great confusion and merriment from my kids, but as always a swimming pool and snacks soon brought balance back to the world.

The main reason for our visit was to attend the Riverboats Music Festival (on the banks of "the Mighty Murray"). It was a really fabulously put together event that spanned three days of acts all set under some glorious ancient gum trees. My eldest son, who's eight, was completely in his element as the way the festival is set up and its size makes it incredibly safe and almost impossible to lose anyone and so an unprecedented amount of freedom.

The standout moment for me was the Regurgitator set on Saturday evening. It was such high energy and the infectious mix of fast tempo beats compared to the majority of the other acts, that they really got my little man bouncing. So, after a few songs he asked, "Is it alright if I go down the front?" "Of course!" my wife and I replied and so off he jumped into the fast developing mosh pit. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, 45 minutes soon elapsed, it was 9.30pm, my youngest wanted to go home, and my eldest was still nowhere to be seen. My wife did a few passes of the stage area and reported back that she had no chance of seeing him. I guess this is the advantage I have being 6ft 6". So I checked stage left, no small friend to be seen. Concern was bubbling up further. Stage right and there on the fence, in the middle of the crowd was my now drenched in sweat son pogoing away and hanging on every lyric from the singers. Hurrah! He's been found, but now how to get to him?

This is where being 6ft 6" has distinct disadvantages! Let's face it, everyone hates you when you're that tall at a gig. The crowd were at best understanding when I explained that I was just looking for my eight year old. Many weren't so much and so with a multitude of dirty looks, comments, shoves and kicks I made my way to the front to try and collect him. The crowning glory was when he was just out of reach, so a couple of rows from the front, I tripped on a bag that someone was standing directly behind. Again, I was greeted with utter disdain from them and complete confusion on my part. Who puts their bag on the floor at a gig when they are right at the front and is then irate when it is stepped on? Anyway, I reached my small guy and was met with an enormous grin that instantly melted all my frustrations with the situation. We made our way out of the crowd and when we got towards the back he professed that this was the best moment of his life! How could I be mad at that.

I guess the moral of the story is two fold. One, it is always a really good idea to set some very clear boundaries with a child at any event no matter how safe it appears (parental fail!) The second, is please be kind to the giant making their way to the front at gigs as they may have just lost their kid! (genetics fail).

Anway, If you see me in the brewpub then please say hello. I always look forward to meeting you all.

Until next time,

Dan
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