A typical/atypical Australian

Hmm, well now, how would we describe a 'typical' Australian? What's that I hear you say 'football, beer, barbecues, clubs, beach'. Hold on a minute; another voice is saying: 'theatre, opera, concerts, art galleries'. Oh, and another...'cafes, pop concerts, bushwalking'. And I actually know someone who goes to the Opera on Saturday night and then to the football on Sunday.

Oh, and let's not forget our farmers, country people, stockmen/stockwomen, shearers, bushies, and the cork hat brigade. (To keep the blowies away, of course.)

Would the 'typical Aussie' please stand up!

One thing I suppose most of us have in common is the enjoyment of the free and easy lifestyle. Therefore, Australians are an easy-going lot and are also pretty friendly. And another thing, one's socio-economic environment often tends to dictate a certain type of lifestyle.

Thongs seem to be the national footwear in summer. Not necessarily of the rubber variety. There are some pretty fancy looking things/thongs nowadays.

Now, let's not forget Vegemite. Every Aussie child has been raised on Vegemite. If you are tempted to try it, please note well that you do not spread it like chocolate sauce. Well, I guess you can, but you'll be in for a not-so-sweet surprise.

Australia is generally seen as a 'sporty' nation. Maybe, it's the climate that encourages people outdoors to do outdoorsey things. I've never been much into perspiration myself but to each their own.

If I may - one criticism of my own country folk would be that I find it somewhat disappointing that our sports people so often make the front pages of the tabloids and our creative artists are relegated to brief paragraphs elsewhere in the paper for a Sherlock Holmes protégé to uncover. That’s not to say that we do not value our creative artists but milk bottle tans don’t seem to be all that popular in the land of the bronze Adonis.

Is my character slowly being unveiled? Yes, when the other children in school were out playing their football, softball, basketball and volleyball, I was in the music room looking adoringly at my more than middle-aged, short, fat, balding music teacher who played the oboe for the angels to dance to.

More later...work in progress