G’day, I’m Queenie, named after my grandmother, the original Queenie of Collingwood. And her mother was the first girl to be born in Collingwood. They wouldn’t recognise the place now.
Collingwood is an inner urban area rapidly filling up with the nouveaux riches, arrogant incomers who don’t have much time for age pensioners or, indeed, for anyone except themselves. I grew up around here and I miss the sense of neighbourhood, I miss the friendly ‘good mornings’ of the past and I miss the corner shops.
I’ve been called an ageing hippie, but really, I was a beatnik, gripped with angst. Don’t mention the War.
I don’t like modern disregard for basic manners, I don’t like the modern obsession with reality television, and I especially don’t like the contemptible bastards in Canberra. I’d like to get a few of them up a back lane in Collingwood and show them what we think of malicious lying smirking cowards around here. The old Collingwood Crooks were at least honest.
My hips ache and my back creaks but my passion for social justice still burns bright. If anything, it’s sharper, honed by the crushing realisation that the world is getting worse. Corrupt politicians don’t care that we know they’re corrupt. I can’t go on about the bastards, my doctor has warned me about getting angry.
I like the Tote of course.
Also, I like to cook.
Drop in for a cuppa and a scone if you’re passing!
