In 2011, Aussie author John Birmingham asked fans for character names. I threw mine in as a joke. By 2014, Dave Hooper wasn’t just in his books, he was the hero of an entire trilogy, a demon-fighting fireman. My proudest (and strangest) brush with literary fame.
I grew up privileged, blinkered, and a proud Liberal voter. Then in 2012, I stumbled into the Tecoma McDonald’s protest. What I saw: corporate bullying, police thuggery, and community resistance, shattered everything I thought I knew. That protest didn’t stop a burger joint. But it changed me forever.
Tecoma is a quiet town in the Dandenong Ranges 40km east of Melbourne. More than two thousand residents live in the area, which is characterised by its protected parklands and National Parks. In 2011 McDonald’s lodged a planning application for a 24-hour outlet with drive-thru in Tecoma, which elicited a record number of written objections from local residents to the shire council. This is that story…
When thieves rammed Camberwell Junction Cellars and stole thousands in booze, council red tape stalled our plans for better lighting. Enter a cheeky young sparkie in a boom truck, who offered to fix it in fifteen minutes — in exchange for a slab. Brightest bargain I ever made.
In 1988 I blagged my way into a job at the brand-new Tennis Centre without ever applying. While my mate Johnny sweated behind the bar, I spent two weeks watching tennis and cricket, pocketing free booze, and getting paid three grand. The greatest scam of my youth.
Back in ’86, Tom and I lived in a fibro shack in Olinda, partying hard and rally-driving a Datsun. Then we discovered Thommo — a bloke who’d fried his brain on magic mushrooms and quietly moved into our backyard shed. The strangest, quietest housemate we never really had.
Around the time I stopped being a Surf Life Saver at Portsea, which also coincided with me coming of age, I started to realise that girls existed. I also started to realise that alcohol existed. I had managed to navigate my way through high school without any peer pressure to indulge with alcohol. Most of my friends at Camberwell Grammar...
In 1986, our fibro shack in Olinda came with mouldy walls, endless grass, and zero motivation to mow it. Enter Mal, a mate with more bongs than sense, who decided the best solution was to nick us a sheep. “Spit” ate the lawn, partied with us, then mysteriously vanished.
In 1985, I hit the Sports & Entertainment Centre to see Australian Crawl with Paul Kelly and The Motels. It was a killer night of music, but also the night I broke my “alcohol virgin” streak — downing UDL Vodka and Orange cans on the train before the gig.
In 1983, I discovered U2 and soon found myself at their Live Under Australian Skies concert in Melbourne. With my schoolmate dressed like Bono, we rushed the stage, and Bono even wore his hat. An unforgettable night that cemented my love for their early, raw sound.
On March 4, 1984, The Police headlined the Melbourne Showgrounds as part of their Synchronicity World Tour. Supported by Bryan Adams, Australian Crawl, Sunnyboys, and Kids in the Kitchen, the night ended with a legendary setlist that showcased The Police at the peak of their powers before their split.
READ MORE The Police | Bryan Adams | Australian Crawl | Sunnyboys | Kids in the Kitchen
From 15 to 18, I spent weekends at Portsea Surf Life Saving Club. Long public transport journeys were worth it for patrols, bunk beds, spit roasts, and surf culture. Earning my Bronze Medallion meant joining shark-watch patrols and living a beachside lifestyle that shaped some of my best teenage years.
Midnight Oil Goanna Johno Coleman INXS John Clarke Redgum Bruce Spence Colin Hay
READ MORE Stop the Drop | Midnight Oil | INXS | Redgum | Goanna
On February 8, 1983, I watched a massive dust storm roll across Melbourne from my school library window. The city turned red, the sky disappeared, and it felt like the end of the world. That moment stuck with me — a reminder of nature’s power and fragility.