A Lament on the Showgrounds

It's probably Perth's best outdoors venue. It's spacious, open, and has a train station directly opposite. Me and N went there on Sunday in hopes of hearing some of the Good Vibrations artists. Or getting in. Mainly getting in was the idea. We were pretty confident, too. But alas, it was not to be. As opposed to relatively easily jumpable or squeezable Rent-a-Fence, the Showgrounds is a fortress. It's like they took care when they designed it. Me and N did a full circle. That's how I know how huge it is. Every gate, guarded by at least two security guards. I might have settled for that, I might have made my peace, but the worst part? All the bands were in the centre parts of the Showgrounds. They all mashed together into awful dischord, which was barely audible. We left. We hung out for a bit, in the city, sleeping on the leather plinths in the museum, sitting inside the large chatterbox just outside. There were some stalls, all of course incredibly expensive, and a merry-go-round. It's quite nice, really, living in Perth, because I pass through the Culture Centre almost every day and it's almost always got something new, which is nice. We went home, I bought a pretty swish zebra print tie on the way home. We went to Hyde Park, and listened to some jazz. It's not Phoenix, but it was good enough, and I didn't miss Marple. Oh, and if you like Bag Raiders, Tim & Jean or even Brow Horn Orchestra, head down to UWA this Friday

Ale.