Dancing in the streets (if we're lucky)

Yesterday on the tram, I sat opposite a man who looked as if he'd given up on life. His trackpants were smeared with what looked like marmalade, and he was only wearing one shoe. He stared straight ahead, his mouth half open. Each time the tram stopped, he would let out a monotone 'yay.' This happened at every tram down Brunswick Street and continued into the city. 'yay.' 'yay. 'yay.'

When I got off, he was looking down at his feet and seemed quite stunned to see that his left shoe was missing. His mouth gaped.

There are so many amazing crazy people in Melbourne. It's impossible to walk down Bourke Street without almost tripping over some woman who looks like Janis Joplin. There are so many crazy people that people don't even know who you're talking about when you bring them up. Back in the days when I kicked around in Dunedin, my humble university town of 120,000 people, there were a handful of crazies that everyone knew. Everyone knew 'Clappy', the man with no teeth who busked outside Countdown by slapping his hands

together, usually out of time. Everyone knew 'Speedy', too; a little weaselly man who walked through the Dunedin streets at a constant speedy case and carry two suitcases on wheels. There was especially Joan the Butcher, an alcoholic Susan Boyle lookalike with a moustache who would take her knickers in public and sometimes sit on people.

There are many famous anecdotes about Joan Butcher. Here is one of them.

"Once I was in South Dunedin at the fish and chip shop and I asked for 2 blue cod. 10 minutes later when my order was ready I found instead of two blue cod the guy had given me two "corn on the cobs" (I wondered what he was saying when he was clarifying my order.....)

Anyways, I didn't want this deep fried corn on the cob so I was leaving I saw Joan sitting on the ground, I went up to her and asked if she would like it, as Joan lifted her head up from her bag I realised she had casually vomited in her bag and had vomit all over her face. A bottle of vodka was situated beside her. Joan was very grateful to me and continually shouted out thank you as I walked down the street."

A quick YouTube search in fact reveals numerous videos of Joan, some with thousands of views. That is how famous she is.

But Melbourne's crazy people are too many to list. I remember a man with a grey beard who

came into our local laundrette with two budgies on his shoulders and sang everyone an impromptu version of 'Sweet Caroline.'No one I've ever met has ever seen or heard of him. Perhaps us Melbournites should start talking about our favourite crazy people casually in conversations and eventually we will have our own Joan the Butcher.

I have also decided to start looking up outdated pop culture references in The Golden Girls.

BLANCHE: Well, I don't like you Dorothy.

DOROTHY: Well Blanche, horizontal stripes make you look like Roger Ebert.

This is Roger Ebert.

Here are some facts about Roger Ebert.

1. Roger Ebert is one of America's most prominent film critics. He is the first person to win a Pulitzer prize for 'film journalism.' In other words, his reviews get the best reviews.

2. In the early 70s, he became good friends with Russ 'Faster Pussycat Kill Kill' Meyer and they wrote several screenplays together, including this one.

Ironically, it received terrible reviews.

3. He was an alcoholic but then sobered up and wrote a blog about it. Here is the blog. It's pretty good.

http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2009/08/my_name_is_roger_and_im_an_alc.html

4. He once dated Oprah. She later claimed that he was her key to getting on TV and, hence, taking over the world.

5. He told Michael Moore to make THAT Anti-Bush speech at the Oscars (maybe it was because they look very similar).

6. Some of his readers consider that he views horror films with a bourgeois elitism because he usually gives slash movies a low rating.

7. He has his own film festival called Eberfest. The theme is usually 'out of print silent film.'

And now, with Roger Ebert uncovered, the joke is funny. Funnier. I imagine the writers of Friends imagine Phoebe Buffet to be a bit like a young Rose Nyland. It didn't really work.