CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | CONTACT
A local dad has this week begun preparations for when the Cold Chisel 50-year anniversary comes to town.
With 24 dates across Australia and New Zealand, the Big Five-O tour has been described as Chisel at their sweaty pub rock best. Dad hasn’t read the reviews, because they would make no difference to whether he decided to buy tickets or not.
As a recently retired fitter and turner who never had much time for the Bee Gees or disco music in general, Steven ‘Sticks’ Twig (68) has never related more to any other rock band.
In fact, if you let him get going, you’ll find that he genuinely thinks every single Cold Chisel song was written about him.
With older brothers who were sent to Vietnam, a gruelling working class childhood that was spent mostly shoe-less and hungry, to a wild youth spent red-lining his body on the football field, in the pubs and on a worksite – the soundtrack to Sticks life could only be sung by Jimmy Barnes.
And they’re coming to town in a few weeks. Which is why he’s calling his adult sons today, and demanding their availability to pick him up and drop him off at the gig.
“No I don’t have a fucken ticket for you” spits Sticks, while trying his best to politely ask his oldest son for a favour – after calling him in the middle of a workday.
“Why don’t you buy your own you big shot”
“Mate I couldn’t give a fuck about what you get up to for 5 hours. I’m not gonna miss the opening bands. And I’m not gonna miss the encores. I am gonna be there from start to finish and what I’m telling you, is, after a working my ring off my whole life to make sure you little fucks never missed dinner at dinnertime, I think it’s fair enough that you fuck your own families off for a night and drive your old man in and out of town for a concert. Don’t act like I didn’t do the same for you when your creepy European DJs were on tour.”
“Drive myself!? Are you fucking kidding me?! Have I raised you wrong or something? What the hell kind of plan is that. Mate, imagine if I got pinched? You’d be driving me around for the rest of my life after that”
“No I’m not getting an Uber. Don’t you remember I got banned from the app because I made an offensive joke about a grown man driving a Suzuki Swift. Plus they don’t let you drink roadies in those things. Also my mate Wacker is going to be coming with us. I need you to pick him up from his daughter’s house. It’d make sense to get him before me. It’s a 20 minute detour at best.”
“Don’t sigh you softcock. It’s one night. It’s the fucken fifty year. Your stupid football didn’t even make the finals, plus the season ended weeks ago, so you don’t have that excuse. Show a bit love why don’t ya”
“Oh, wait, so you’re keen?”
“…Yeah get a ticket!”
“Sorry for burring up. Your deadshit brother tried to tell me he’s gotta be at home for his daughter’s birthday. Poppy’s two years old for Christ sake. She won’t remember that shit anyway.
“Yeah good”
“Yeah beauty”
“Yeah sounds good”
“Okay mate. Good plan”
“Thanks”
“Yeah yeah yeah. Love you too”
