|writings of Peter Tammer|
I have always had a keen interest in the short story form.
'La Dolce Vita' for the few, a turbulent and hard time for the many.
The fire was blamed upon a strange sect from Judea, followers of Jesus Christ.
One dark night while trawling the net I stumbled upon a recipe for Duck Soup.
Oh for those halcyon days of the 1950s, the Sat'dy arvo flicks at the Camden, or the Rivoli,
Batman or Superman serials along with newsreels and cartoons before intermission,
when our mighty but deeply flawed super-heroes almost saved the world
before they nearly got themselves killed and we had to wait a whole week to see
how they would get out of that last sticky situation!
A trunk filled with old books, a gift from some person
In a series of emails discussing these serendipitous connections
Long before the great civilisations of Greece and Rome,
the Egyptians produced many architectural wonders.
We all know about Pyramids and massive temple complexes,
and we've all seen countless documentaries
detailing their construction.
One enigmatic site deserves more attention
than it has been given in our time.
It is the site of a failure in Egyptian monumental architecture.
Gifts of Music
Many people have shaped my life with gifts of music,
These pieces are in the form of emails to some of those friends,
One evening in 1948 me and my family went to Essendon Airport to welcome
my Dad’s brothers Edmond and Joseph to Australia.
At the time I was only five years old. The airport experience, the bright
lights, the huge noise of the planes, and the expectation of meeting
my new uncles made this an extremely special event.
After the shedding of many tears, many hugs and many kisses, me and my sister
and baby brother being totally squashed by my huge uncles, we returned to my
Aunty Adele's house in Acland Street, St. Kilda, where I often stayed in summer.
That night there was a huge
party in that tiny house!
Venice St. Box Hill, about 1950, a new house and new friends for the whole family.
Our house was extremely cosmopolitan, our guests coming from many countries.
Mum and Dad met two couples
from Egypt, although they were of mixed
of the totally different
streams of music they brought into our home.
My Dad had huge expectations of me as I was the first son in a family of five children.
I certainly did not live up to my father’s expectations.
One evening remains of considerable interest to me as we shared a quiet night
in the lounge room listening to a classical record I had bought with the first
week’s wages I’d earned from
doing from a holiday job.
My sister Maureen died after a long and terrible struggle with cancer.
It was a very heavy time for all of our family, especially as Mum had
passed away just a few months earlier.
Maureen’s funeral was held in a Catholic Church. The church was packed.
Very few people were allowed to speak on behalf of Maureen.
I had to fight for the right to speak for my sister, to celebrate her life.
I was under instructions from the priest in charge of that service to
keep it short! I was granted just a few minutes in a ceremony which
lasted the best part of an hour.
I sent this story to my friend John describing that event and the tremendous
gift which Maureen had
brought into my life when we were teenagers.
Like millions of young children around the world, as a child I was fascinated
From my earliest years I was attracted to 'historical stories' such as
Telling imaginative stories which pose as history may be completely harmless.
This essay explores some effects which false histories have had upon our world,
The Bible? The Koran?
Why don't we just teach the Afghanis, the Taliban, the Israelis, the Palestinians,
Over the course of a 5-day Test Match their hearts and minds, their
passion and anger,
The editors of the online journal 'Documenter' asked me to interview Albert Maysles,
In 1999 I had the great pleasure of chatting with Albert Maysles via telephone connection.
This is the transcript of that interview which appeared in 'Documenter' in January 2000.