Glebe Glebe Glebe

We were supposed to go to Glebe in 2007, but we never made it there.

Actually, I had planned to go alone--have some Me Time looking at used books and spiritual/occult stuff. I guess I had heard that this is the type of stuff you'd find in Glebe.

What happened to our Glebe time?

Manly.

That's what happened. I'm telling you.  Our family became obsessed with Manly. We started crossing places off our list and replaced it with Manly.

We were pretty damn rude about it too. We had that attitude of Yeah, saw Newtown.   You've seen one suburb that's progressive and welcoming towards alternative people and you've seen them all!

I think the thing is though....if you're not interested in history, and/or you don't know about history, than every suburb IS sort of the same.   There are minor differences, but I don't think a tourist would really notice.

I think the same can be said for towns.  Without knowing history, all towns and cities begin to look alike. There's a part of me that wants to do a road trip around America--visit various towns and big cities.  Then I stop and wonder.  Is there really a big difference between a small town in Texas and a small town in Nebraska?  Without educating myself, would I be able to tell much of a difference?

When we were in Portland, there were a few things that made it different from other big cities we've been to. But besides that, it reminded us so much of NYC, San Francisco, Sydney, Chicago, etc.

Anyway, back to Glebe.   

I'll start with the map.  I think I'm starting to get into some patterns here; my own little way of doing things...well, at least in terms of learning about Sydney suburbs.

Glebe is not too far from Darling Harbor.  It's south west from there.  It's north of the University of Sydney, and east of Dulwich Hill.

Glebe wasn't named for a person who got a land grant.  It comes from the word glebe.   I've never heard of that before and am having trouble understanding it. I'm getting that it's a Christian thing. I guess it's a piece of land that's owned by a church group?

I think?   

In terms of Sydney's Glebe, it was given to Reverend Richard Johnson from Arthur Phillip.

So it IS another land grant thing....just a Christian version of it. 

Reverend Johnson was on the First Fleet, and was the first Christian clergyman in Australia.  He was also the first to do a sermon in New South Wales.

On a tourist note....Lord Wiki says that Glebe Point Road is the place to go.   He talks about some controversy regarding The Broadway Shopping Center.  I'm guessing this is like a mall?

Well, it's driving the smaller stores out of business.

The Coroner's Court is in Glebe. I've been reading some Coroner Court stuff regarding Redfern.   I guess perhaps the proceedings occurred at this court.

Glebe has a Saturday market too. I think I knew that.   It's probably one of those things I knew and forgot. Lord Wiki says it's good for buying alternative stuff. I had started to wonder if I had dreamed the bit about it being a nice place for alternative people.

Oh! Here we go. It has the third highest aboriginal population in Sydney. I know what the first is, but what's the second?  Maybe one day we'll find out.   Or maybe one of you will tell me, since I'm too lazy to go find out right now. 

Glebe is also popular with students (since it's near the university) and backpackers.

According to this website, the new X-Men movie was filmed in Glebe.  There was a nice handful of other movies filmed there as well.   I've not heard of them, though, because I'm not up to speed with Australian films. Sadly, I'm also not up to speed with American films.  We drive past movie theaters and not one movie title has any meaning to me. And this is coming from someone who spent a semester in film school. I used to be so into movies. Now I'm lost.

So sad.

I HAVE seen the first two X-Men movies, though.  AND I saw the first two Spidermans as well!

I'm now reading about Glebe Markets. I feel I'm back to my it's-all-the-same thing. The market sounds like  the one we went to in Portland and that was very much like the markets we went to in NYC. Although the markets in Portland had elephant ears, and the markets in NYC usually had funnel cakes.

Maybe my problem is I no longer like shopping much. I rush through the aisles of the market, rarely interested in anything. And we end up eating way too much.

I still like the markets, though.  You know what I like?  The political bumper stickers. In Portland, that's what we had the most fun with--well, at least Tim and me. I like reading things like that...especially when they agree with my political ideologies.   Although it could be fun to read stuff that disagreed with my ideologies.  It seems, though, that usually the bumper stickers/buttons agree with me.    Or maybe my eyes just end up going in their direction.

Okay, I just turned to the page about restaurants and I had one of those moments.  It was one of those times where you remember something and think it happened but then realize it must have been a dream.  I remember learning about (maybe through an advertisement) a restaurant Sydney that serves bush tucker.   I think they even had the moths and witchedy grub. I was all excited about it.

I'm pretty sure it was a dream, because the memory has that vague feeling.  Also, I'm pretty sure if it had been real I would have written it down somewhere.  Heck, I would have probably written a blog entry about it.

Here.  This is cool. Glebe has a Fair Trade Coffee Company. It's a place where you can get stuff that's free from exploitation.  Cool with me.

I love this bit from their website:

Fair Trade coffee doesn’t taste as good.

The most ridiculous of all the excuses made by non-fair trade sellers and buyers. Paying a plantation worker a wage which allows them to send their children to school has no effect the flavour of the coffee bean.

That reminds me of how some people I know seem weary of organic food--nervous that it will taste different or bad. I think maybe I was like that too in the beginning. When you don't know enough, I think there's the idea that organic means something is ADDED to the food; a mysterious ingredient that's gonna make the milk taste a bit funny. Maybe we confuse the word organic with orgasmic. I think maybe we imagine the milk is going to be sexual in some way.

I think it's the same thing with the Vegetarian label. Label a food Vegetarian and it can be scary to some people. An apple is vegetarian and so are chips with cheese. But I think when you say vegetarian to some people, they picture something absolutely scary.

Once I ate dinner with some members of my family.  We had brought some Israeli salads over. I introduced them and offered them as vegetarian food, and most of the people at the table had no interest in trying any. If I had said Who wants some Israeli salad?   I'm sure I would have had to share.  Uh, oops. I guess you know my wicked plan now. 

I shall definitely have to go to Gleebooks even though I can probably find books easier and cheaper through Powells.   Powells is my new savior.  Maybe I'll allow myself to buy one or two books at Gleebooks--perhaps something I can't find at Powells. Although it seems you can find a LOT at Powells.

Here's the website for Glebe Markets.   It actually sounds pretty cool because they say they have second hand stuff.   I'm more likely to be interested in buying that.   Maybe I'll find some good books there. I also wouldn't mind some clothes. What I'd love to find (either there or a thrift store) is Australian t-shirts. I wouldn't mind tourist crap, but also more obscure stuff. Restaurant t-shirts, school t-shirts, organization t-shirts, etc.  

Then I can wear my t-shirt around America and show off.

You've been to Australia?

Yes, I have actually.  Uh, but no I didn't go to that primary school. And no I didn't go bowling to raise money for ovarian cancer.   But I did go to a thrift store!

According to the stallholder part of the website, you may not sell birds or live animals. Well, darn.  I wanted to buy me a monkey! I guess I'm out of luck there. You would think at least I could buy an echidna or something.

You know I was just about to hop over to cityhobo and find out what kind of shoe Glebe is....but I feel we're lacking in something.

History.

I guess I've been going in all kinds of directions, rambling on and on. I forgot the damn history.

This website has some of it. Go read it.

I'm joking.

I'll try to do a brief summary.  Brief.  Ha. I know all of you are laughing at me now.

The Eora who lived in Glebe were the Cadigal.  Okay, this is sad.   I wrote about the Cadigal.  I know I did.  But I have to go find my old blog post in order to know what I wrote.   See, I do all this research, learn a lot, and then forget it all.  Okay, quick summary. The Cadigals were the ones who first saw the First Fleet, and they're the ones who called Darling Harbor Tumbalong.

The whole church glebe happened, as I mentioned way above.   Then in 1856 the church had to sell some of the land. It became a "Fashionable" suburb for awhile and then became all overcrowded and a bit "Shabby".

The first prime minster was from Glebe. Sir Edmond Barton.

This is cool.  There's a school specifically for Indigenous Australians in Glebe.  It has degrees in things like Aboriginal studies and community development.

All right.   NOW it's time for cityhobo


Okay, the shoes are campers, Crocs, and Birkenstocks. Sniff. They had me at Crocs. Crocs to me symbolize all that I love and stand for. People who put comfort over style.

I remember seeing clubs on Facebook dedicated to the sole purpose of making fun of people who wear Crocs. I really don't like all that fashion snobbery. Really, who cares what kind of shoes you wear?

Although that being said, I don't think Crocs are as comfortable as people say they are. I have a pair and wore them on a trip to Disney World. They were okay.

But still. When I see someone wearing Crocs, I feel they are part of my tribe.

My best friend here wears Crocs. I love her. And she was also the only one (besides me) who wore shorts to a open-house night at the Museum School. Everyone else wore cute little capri pants and darling skirts and dresses. Together, we are fashion outcasts. We are the people you see in the back of Glamour Magazine's Dos and don'ts. At least I think it's Glamour--I'm thinking of the one that has photos of random people dressed bad and their face is slightly hidden with a black bar.

Okay.

I'm going to shut up now.

What would our world be like if we

knew for sure there 

was life after death, and 

we could easily talk to our 

dearly-departed on the Internet?

The Dead are Online a novel by Dina Roberts