When I Think of Home Now

As I write this I’m watching the final of the Rugby League Four Nations. For those unfamiliar with Rugby League this is a biennial tournament between Australia, England, New Zealand, and one other (un)lucky country.

This year the final is between Australia and New Zealand. Prior to last year, anytime Australia or New Zealand play, I have always stayed politely neutral, as I’m an Australian permanent resident and also a Kiwiphile.

After living in New Zealand for a year, however, I’ve changed.

I’m a Kiwi.

Well, I’m an American-New Zealander who lives in Australia.

Having lived outside of the U.S. for almost 6 years, I’ve seen my sense of what nationality I am become a lot more complicated that I ever thought it could be.

The best way I could describe it is with something I call the “warm, fuzzy feeling factor.” When you think of a place that gives you that feeling where is it? (Note, for Dutch speakers think “gezellig” or for Welsh speakers “hiraeth.”)

For me, I think of several places instantly :

A snowy morning in Wisconsin, an autumn afternoon in New York, an evening in Wellington or Rotorua, and a foggy morning in Auckland.

These places and the time I spent in them remind me of times I’ve felt grounded and certain.

That’s home in my book, and yes, it’s odd that with as many years as I’ve lived here in Australia, it hasn’t yet felt like home.

It’s a bit hard to feel grounded when to this day whenever I meet someone and they know that I’ve lived here for a long time I still get asked what I think of Australia. Maybe it’s me, but I think 5 years is a sign that I think it’s pretty nice place.

The next question tends to be do I think I might go back to the U.S. Which is a rather odd question for me personally, since though I’m from the U.S. (and as I’ve also pointed out here before, the U.S. is itself more like 50 separate countries), the country has moved on since I left and so have I. So who’s to say that we’ll be able to get in sync again like we were when I was younger?

Home is where the heart is, as the old saying goes. In my opinion, the heart thrives where it feels supported and part of a greater “family.” (Probably I should say “whanau.”)

This isn’t to say that Australia won’t ever invoke those feelings, it’s just that Australia is not going to make it easy.

And the strange thing, the fact that it won’t, probably makes me love it more.

By the way, as I type this New Zealand is beating Australia 14 to 12.




The Antipodean Dilemma of the Gay Traveler

I’ve lived in Australia for 4 years now, and I do love living here, but it’s location in the world can be trying.

If you have your family and/or business mostly in the Western part of the United States, getting there is about a 12-14 hour nonstop flight to Los Angeles or San Francisco.

(This also explains why Australians tend to view the US through a Californian lens, and worthy of its own post.)

Getting to the Midwest or the East Coast generally involves adding on a flight from California to one’s final destination, adding on an extra 3-6 hours.

QANTAS itself operates a flight from New York to Los Angeles (where you can subsequently connect to its flights to the Australian East Coast), mostly due to the presumed reputation of US carriers and also to get its own significant slice of the fare pie.

Now, the reason I bring this up, is because QANTAS has been in the Australian media a lot these days because of their new alliance with Emirates, a major carrier from Dubai.

Emirates has been making serious inroads into the Australian market because whilst it’s 13 hours to Dubai from Sydney, it’s also 5 or 6 hours from Dubai to Europe, and the Europe to Australia market is huge and competitive.

Whereas before one generally flew QANTAS from Australia to Europe via Singapore (where homosexuality is illegal, but the law is rarely enforced), or via Hong Kong (where it is at least legal to be gay), or Bangkok (same), now those who want to fly the main national carrier will be routed through the UAE, a country where there are significant legal differences with Australia, homosexuality being illegal and prosecuted being a notable difference, as this article in the Star Observer points out.

Even the Australian government itself warns gay travelers to the UAE.

The other main Australian carrier, Virgin Australia, has an alliance with UAE carrier Etihad Airways, to fly its Europe bound passengers via Abu Dhabi. (Oddly enough they don’t emphasise the daily Virgin Atlantic flight from Sydney to London via Hong Kong, but that’s a bit of a quirk of Virgin Australia’s ownership.)

Getting to Europe without going through the UAE is seemingly difficult, but not impossible.

Air New Zealand avoids the issue by having its London flights via Los Angeles, though it’s not the most pleasant transit experience from what I’ve heard.

China Southern, Cathay Pacific, Thai, and JAL have been encouraging Australians to get to Europe (and the US) via Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Bangkok, and Tokyo respectively.

That said it is hard to avoid the intense advertisement by the UAE carriers. I gave in, even though I was fully aware that by doing so, I was giving money to a homophobic government.

So I flew to Chicago from Melbourne via Abu Dhabi.

The flight was present, but when I got to the lounge, I was not able to log into several gay-identified websites (AfterElton, JOY94.9, The Advocate), because they were blocked.

Perhaps this is a bit close to my heart, because I’ve worked in the LGBT media. Others might not be bothered by it.

For me, personally, the cost savings were outweighed by the moral compromise.

My New Year’s

JOY at Tropical Fruits 2012I had the great honour of being asked by JOY 94.9 to co-present their New Year’s Eve coverage from the Tropical Fruits festival in Lismore, NSW.

There are so many fun and interesting insights about the experience, so much, that I’d much rather direct you to the podcast.

Both myself and Gillian were featured in the local regional newspaper, The Northern Star.

Fruitful move boosts buzz about festival | Northern Star.

My Other Side

2008 Pride March, St. Kilda, Victoria.

Image via Wikipedia

Longtime readers of this little corner of the Internet may have noticed that I’ve been a bit cagey about some of my work recently. Well, I think it’s safe to say that I can let the proverbial cat a little bit out of the bag: I’ve been a member of the white collar crowd, quite unexpectedly, over the past year.

It has fortunately come to somewhat of a close recently, and it’s been quite a journey. A journey in more ways than one, as I will be talking about my life as an unexpected business traveller on JOY 94.9 this Christmas Eve at 12 noon. If you’re not in Melbourne, you can listen online via the website or via JOY’s smartphone app.

I’ll be talking how I’ve been treated nicely and not so nicely by airlines and customs officers (including US ones), why I gave in and finally flew a Middle Eastern airline (and regretted it), that lovely subject of profiling, why you should always keep your e-ticket on you (even at Disneyland Paris) and many other stories (including some hilarious ones from my late mother).

By the way, 12pm Saturday 24 December in Melbourne translates as:

10am Saturday 24 December Tokyo
1am Saturday 24 December GMT
8pm Friday 23 December New York (EST)
7pm Friday 23 December Milwaukee (CST)
5pm Friday 23 December Los Angeles (PST)

And remember there’s also World Wide Waves, the little late night LGBT Global news and views show that I co-present on JOY 94.9 every Wednesday night at 11pm Melbourne. I’m a little more strait-laced on The Wave, but only just a little.

Tune in!

That Place: Mall of the World


So I’m back in the homeland again, and I have to say, it’s probably in the most sad state I’ve ever seen. Previously, I really took US culture and society to task about being insular, yet in this post-GFC world, the core of that insularity is coming to the forefront. That insularity has been masking the fact that it is quite frankly shit-scared about the future.

I’m typing this from New York City, my old home. Manhattan has been turned into a massive mall for ubiquitous chain stores from around the world, shilling products designed from all over, but pretty much all made in Bangladesh, China, and Vietnam, and trading in an ever decreasing-in-value US dollar.

It may seem strange to non-Americans (and some Americans), but what I think America is leaning towards becoming is a basically a trading post: a consumerist society which produces little on a mass scale, but believes that spending is a national duty. Reliant upon its prestigious past, America is pretty much up for sale, and countries and overseas companies are fully aware of it–even if the local populace isn’t. An example: China’s state run Xinhua News Agency has a prominent billboard in Times Square. Times Square itself means nothing to the locals, but a hell of a lot to non-New York Area residents.

We used to be encouraged to buy American, now, we’re just encouraged to buy…regardless. Many Americans wouldn’t find it ironic that Walmart is doing gangbusters with a line of “Sorry you lost your job” cards. However, I think that perfectly symbolises America in 2011.

Homeland Insecurity


As part of my current role, I periodically have to travel overseas, pretty much exclusively to the US. Fares being what they are from Australia, it is inherently cheaper for me to fly on Around-the-world tickets than just a simple return one.

I’ve done this three times and it has done me in. Not the stress of flying, but the stress of scrutiny especially in the USA and UK (the latter which has yet to fully strip off the America-in-Europe status it had during Blair).


I arrive in Los Angeles after a practically sleepless flight due to the decision by mid-level executives to take their families on holiday en masse. (Damn you, strong Australian Dollar!) I go through the US Citizens’ Line and hand over my passport and form, which clearly states that I am coming in on business. The officer at Passport Control takes a glance at it and stamps it.

I pick up my luggage and get in the next line for customs. Next thing I know, I get an officer who clearly was transferred from Mayberry [or Woop Woop, for those unfamiliar with The Andy Griffith Show]. He proceeds to look at my Customs form as if it was written in hieroglyphics instead of BLOCK CAPITAL LETTER ENGLISH, which is what the form asks you to do. Finally loading his English-to-English translator, he seizes upon the thing that makes the logical part of his brain feel funny: I had checked Business under purpose of visit.

He asks me why.

I tell him that my business needs me to be physically present for several matters.

He then asks why did I mark down Australia as my country of residence.

“Because it is. If I live in Australia, own property in Australia, have no intention of ever leaving Australia, and have gone through the process of becoming a Permanent Resident of Australia, then I am not going to mark down the US as my country of residence.”

“Calm down.”

Considering my general antipathy-bordering-on-animosity of Americans from West of the Mississippi River, I think I was relatively restrained.

“You look a bit young to own a business,” he said with a drawl that made me think he was restraining himself from adding the word “Boy” at the end.*

* Note for non-American readers: Many Black American males, especially those who went through or had close family go through Segregation, recoil at being called “Boy,” particularly when considerably over age 18. Apart the obvious disrespect it shows, it also reminds us of those halcyon days when we were considered 3/5s of a human being. The Homeland Security officer was White and at least old enough (not to mention trained) to know about this.

I point out to him that I have inherited my late mother’s business interests and if he wanted to go check with the Coroner’s Office in Wisconsin he could verify the death certificate I pulled out to show him.

Furrowing his brow, he passed me through.

I wrote a complaint the second I arrived at my hotel.

Now, you would say that this is one incident, but I found it indicative of the current attitude one tends to receive if you don’t fit a certain profile. Business travelers apparently must not be under 35, and apparently no US citizen can ever live full-time in a country other than the US. Duly noted, Homeland Security!

Now I did adhere to the long-standing advice to dress appropriately. Believe you me, I would definitely understand Homeland Security officers being suspicious of anyone who marked down “business” as purpose of visit while dressed in cargo pants and a shirt that read “I’m from Milwaukee and that’s not funny.” So I didn’t wear what I feel most comfortable in.

I cannot change however, my age, my race, nor my place of birth, and I have too much self-respect to even contemplate a moving back to the US even just on paper.

So as long as I have to keep heading there, I will have to put up with the fact that I do not fit their profile. They’ll gladly take my money (I’m still a taxpayer, both personally and corporate now), but still can’t seem to handle the fact that I exist and mean no ill will.

Funny that.