Letters – December 2015

By Residents of the Eastern Suburbs on December 22, 2015 in Other

TERRIFYING INCIDENT AT THE JUNCTION

Yesterday afternoon my son, Jack, my baby and I got the bus to Bondi Junction to run some errands. We got off at the Apple Store and wandered down to the bank, and then criss-crossed back to the Bronka Arcade to get some cheap noodles as an afternoon snack. We were retracing our steps to go pick up some stuff for dinner and my son was a few steps behind, trying to stuff his change into his wallet, hold on to his noodles and walk all at the same time.

Walking towards us was a young guy wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and moving with a certain swagger. I watched in horror as without warning he shoulder barged my son, making him drop his wallet and his container of Singapore noodles. Jack knelt to pick up his stuff, muttering, and when he stood up the guy was waiting for him and thrust his face right up next to Jack’s, their noses touching.

Everything stopped and the landscape suddenly became alien and terrifying. I backed away uncertainly, holding my hand protectively over my baby’s head, torn between my baby and my big son. The panic started rising in my throat and all I could do was scream. Around us the people stopped moving and watched the situation unfold, like someone had pressed pause on a video and walked away.

The guy grabbed my kid by his shirt and violently manhandled him into a little shoe repair place, ramming him up against the glass. The guy pulled back his fist and held it there for what seemed like a very long time as I stood there paralysed; all I could do was scream. My baby started wailing and crying in terror. For whatever reason, the guy suddenly let Jack go, shaking his head in disgust at us, the two people who had the temerity to walk past him in a way that had not been to his liking.

I watched him stalk away and I screamed at him, “What the f**k is wrong with you?” In reply, he held up his middle finger without turning back around and kept walking; a dickhead full of his own entitled arrogance.

Suddenly people were there, patting us. Jack pulled on my hand, a man ran after the guy, a nice lady stopped and offered us counsel, and someone offered to call the police. I was in a daze, jelly-legged and shaken. We walked out of the arcade and into the gentle spring rain and sat down and looked at each other in horror, and it was almost as if we had made the whole thing up.

Last night I lay awake for a long time and replayed it over and over in my head. I thought about the Thomas Kelly case; a kid walking through the Cross minding his own business who just happened to cross paths with one of these people and paid the ultimate price.

What is with these young men looking to terrorise another human for the sheer thrill of it? Where have we gone wrong as a society that you can be assaulted as you walk down the street, getting punished for doing nothing more reprehensible than being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

This country spends billions of dollars on terrorism-related initiatives, and no doubt there is a real threat somehow, somewhere, but what about the real terrorists: men who look to kill, maim, hurt and violate just because they can? The enemy is not some abstract concept far, far away from us. The real enemy is within.

I implore the federal government to start an initiative that addresses violence amongst young men, and the related issue of ice addiction amongst our youth. After all, this incident happened in our current PM’s electorate, just round the corner from his house.

Heidi Blackwell, South Bondi

VALE GIANNI PELLICCIARI

Vale Gianni Pellicciari, who passed away peacefully on October 20 after a rambunctious life as one of Bondi Beach and Rose Bay’s more colourful residents.

As I begin to write this tribute to Dad, I note there is a cafe on Bondi’s Campbell Parade called ‘Birichina’, which means ‘naughty girl’. Gianni was the male equivalent, a birichino, all his life, and the suburbs of Sydney’s east were both the happy and sometimes bemused recipients of his antics.

Cafes feature prominently in Gianni’s life. He will be chiefly remembered for the Pellicciari family café, which ran down at the Bondi Pavilion for 41 years. There Gianni produced exquisite gelato with his brother Guido, back in the days when it was still an artisanal product and not a franchise, and pizza slabs that for years refuelled the hungriest surfers and summertime beach lovers. He will be remembered in his middle years for adoring the ladies and abhorring discipline, for being an extraordinary workhorse in the business, but for whom horses (the racing kind) didn’t always work!

In Dad’s later years he became a permanent fixture at La Galleria Cafe in Rose Bay, holding court there most days. His life experiences and the stories that came with them – from being a child on the beaches of Anzio in WWII, to being a ‘new Australian’ working on the Snowy Mountains scheme, and dining in the 1970s with Prime Minister Gough Whitlam – made Dad an instant friend to all. It wasn’t unusual to see a blue-haired uni student run up and say ‘Ciao Gianni’ in the Rose Bay supermarket, or to see a TV celebrity stop and have coffee with him, or to watch a big brawny bloke hold his hand and listen to the stories of his days as a renegade teenager in Italy riding motorbikes along the top of an ancient Roman rampart.

More than just family will miss you, Dad. Gianni, you were boisterous, gregarious and rambunctious to the end. E viva, it was a life lived!

Nadia Piave, Bondi

PEARL AND STAR SIGNS TIP TOP

When I get my copy of The Beast I immediately turn to Pearl Bullivant, and then to the star signs. Pearl’s articles convey exactly the same sentiments as mine on social and political issues, and make me realise I am not alone. The star signs are hilarious and, weirdly enough, do seem to be quite apt. I photocopy both of these and give them to friends who appreciate them too. I also keep back copies to distribute when the need arises.

Pamela Young

PAVEMENT PARKING PRATS

Dear Beast,

Here’s one that Pearl might like to get her teeth into: What is it with car owners in the Eastern Suburbs? Has anyone else noticed or been subjected to inconvenience and near death experiences resulting from the arrogant and selfish act of parking across the pavement? This seems to be becoming so prevalent around these parts that I can contain myself no longer.

My request is simple: Park your Audi/BMW/Lexus/Range Rover off the pavement like the rest of us have to. Or park them in your double garages so that pedestrians don’t have to become sitting ducks for other morons driving their Audi/BMW/Lexus/Range Rover whilst drinking lattes, putting on make-up, texting, updating their narcissistic book, eating a bowl of quinoa, etc. Abbott forbid you might have to find a parking spot 30 seconds walk away from your house!

Hopefully a parent and child, wheelchair user, blind person, or anyone else for that matter won’t have to go around your car and onto the road and get knocked down just because you’re an inconsiderate bell-end. $40,000 car? Ten cents common sense.

Next time you obstruct my path in such a fashion, I will climb over the bonnet of your precious status symbol, dragging my two-year-old and her pushchair behind me.

Andy Watkins, Bellevue Hill

REACHING OUT TO WOMAN ON THE 333

I’m hoping to find a woman I met on the 333 recently. We fell into conversation after making eye contact when her two kids were giggling and squirming in the front seat. I said the giggling was a lovely sound. Her son came and sat with her, opposite me. We were on those side seats that fit three people and face each other.

I noticed he was wearing a Neutral Bay Public t-shirt. It turns out this single mother moved to Bondi from Neutral Bay to be closer to the hospital, where her son still goes for regular checks after having been diagnosed with cancer three years ago. He was five. His friends were all kids in the same position at the hospital. He lost his hair, he was in a wheelchair for a while, and he was very ill due to the treatment. Out of the group of children he started with at the hospital, he is the only survivor.

At the age of eight, he has been to several children’s funerals, including one for his best friend. I can still see the look of sadness on his face when he told me this was not fair. His mother takes him by public transport from Bondi to school at Neutral Bay every day, with his three-year-old sister along for the ride, then does the reverse journey every afternoon, because he started school there and likes the school.

When he does not have to go to the hospital as frequently, perhaps in a year or two, she says she might return to live in Neutral Bay. On the 333, suddenly it was her stop and they were gone. I still want to reach out to her to offer assistance. I have time, not money, and perhaps I could occasionally help. I’m writing this in case she sees it and would like to contact me (this can be arranged by emailing dan@thebeast.com.au).

Mimi Parfitt, Bondi

BEACH SHOWERS NEED IMPROVEMENT

Considering the high amounts we pay for the privilege to live in our beautiful suburb of Bondi Beach, would it be possible for the council to install some decent beach showers? Anything would be an improvement, even if just a couple more along the beach, with water pressure that is more than a dribble, and maybe some extra water fountains to drink from?

Compare our showers to the luxury of Tama (so nice; I would move in if I could), or Maroubra where the showers last for a solid minute at a time without having to press the button and are built into a lovely sandstone wall. I don’t mean to be an old whinge bag, but surely we can do better? Is the water facility that was built to recycle water under the south end of the grass hill to be used to help with water conservation? Can we utilise this to make a better experience for our beach goers?

Salty Surfer, Bondi Beach