Red wine

Brissos enjoy their drinking, as do folk elsewhere.

Because Australia has had a strong and diverse wine industry, Australians of means embraced the daily practice of wine drinking well ahead of many urban elites in other countries (excluding European countries like France, Italy, Spain, which trained their citizenry from pre-school onwards to support the local wine industries).

For Brissos, most proper sit down meals other than breakfast are occasions worth opening a good bottle for.

Breakfasts with friends will be occasions for champagne.

The arrival home from work is also an occasion for opening a bottle. Male Brissos will unwind with a cold beer or two before tucking into wine.

Even in the early days, before there was variety in wines available in Queensland, Brissos were more sophisticated than their British counterparts and were into drinking wine. When Brissos had to pre-plan their drinking around strict licensing rules and limited pub hours, they always knew when to absent themselves from a beergarden, function or family dinner to get to the bottle shop in time to purchase home supplies, which will have included wine.

Some Brissos recall that they used to purchase cask wine, and will swear that some of that cask wine was ‘not too bad’. Now they have more refined tastes and know a thing or two about wine, mainly what they like….and will usually spend no less than $25 on a bottle (demonstrating their refined palates). They would only purchase cask wine as an experiment for trying at home if the family is away.

When visiting or dining out with Brissos it is the safest choice to buy a good bottle of red. Red wine is the Brissos preferred wine choice. Female and male Brissos alike get stuck into the full bodied red with gusto, no matter how hot or cold the temperature, and no matter what kind of food is being eaten. This practice may surprise Europeans who believe that particular wines are appropriate for different kinds of food. Brissos know this, but think of it as fussy or anal behaviour, like formal speech and enunciation (and the use of poncy words like ‘enunciation’).

In the past white wine was coded female and red wine was coded male. This tradition has a powerful legacy, with many young male Brissos still refusing to drink white wine, thinking of it as a girl’s drink. Counter-intuitively, many female Brissos will align themselves with the blokes and choose red wine. Perhaps they too see white wine as an effeminate choice. This blokey drinking style of some female Brissos will also be evident in their enjoyment of beer, drinking it straight from the stubbie.

When white wines are on offer – at some functions or stages of meals – Brissos will always choose a ‘dry’ white, a chardonnay or sav blanc, rather than a riesling. Riesling, no matter how superb or well thought of by wine makers, is eschewed by Brissos. Perhaps it reminds the Brisso of his/her unsophisticated early days, drinking cheap cask Moselle. In fact if a white wine is called for, an even better choice for the Brisso than a dry white, is a light red. This is an excellent compromise. A chilled light red will keep a Brisso happy on a hot night.

At most Brisso social occasions when the wine is preordered (with both white and red on the table) the white wine is last to go.

Jacarandas and the bloom of gloom

Come October/November each year Brisbane emerges from the subdued dry tones of winter to the brilliant violet of Jacaranda blooms. Everyone loves Brisbane’s Jacarandas.

R Godfrey Rivers. Under the Jacaranda 1903.

Brissos however have mixed feelings about them. They love jacarandas and  their pride in them sometimes leads them to forget that Jacarandas are not just found in Brisbane.

At the same time, most Brissos associate Jacaranda blooms with that profound sense of dread experienced with end of year exams. No matter how many years it is since a Brisso has had end of year exams, this particular association remains strong. In fact so strong, that some Brissos may forever more associate the beauty of spring with that heady combination of anxiety and guilt typical of an exam period that comes at the very best time of year. The Qld Art Gallery shows evidence that even as early as 1903, genteel folk in Brisbane avoided their studies at this time of year and instead took tea in the garden.

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Brissos will also have unhappy memories of gardening chores associated with the incessant droppings of Jacarandas at various times of year – onto the lawn, patio and pool. When Jacarandas are not in bloom they are not so fun; they can appear scrappy, and their roots can threaten the concrete of a pool or garden path. As such Brissos prefer other people to have Jacarandas, rather than host them in their own backyard. While many Brissos will have removed Jacarandas from their own gardens, they will be fiercely protective of Jacarandas that grace Brisbane’s public parks or roadsides.

http://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/news/queensland/historic-new-farm-jacarandas-face-the-chop/2008/01/30/1201369188929.html

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Scientific Name: Jacaranda Mimosifolia

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Living in a traditional Queenslander house

It is a defining Brisso experience to live in a “Queenslander” house.

The distinctive weatherboard houses, perched on stumps or stilts, are open to the elements, with their central ‘breezeway’ corridors and generous verandas.

Brissos are rightfully proud of these weatherboard gems and will have strong feelings of nostalgia associated with them.

All politicians and public figures originating from Queensland must live in Queenslanders when in Brisbane.

In fact, most Brissos will have lived in one at some stage, perhaps growing up as a child, or when staying with grandparents, or later as a young adult living in a share house, or when first married. For the Brisso, the Queenslander is the “container” of significant memories.

Some of these memories will not be happy ones. These light-weight boxes are also open containers for cold and heat, mould, noise, moths, mosquitos, cockroaches, possums, rats, and the occasional snake.

But the idea of the Queenslander is a great thing. So great in fact that it surpasses and transcends the actual experience of living in one.

This is a good thing as it helps with the enormous amount of denial required to live in a Queenslander, denial about the high levels of maintenance required by the building, and its poor insulation and protection from the elements, vermin and unwanted relatives or friends who are sorting themselves out.

While Brissos might talk about the design that is suited to the sub-tropical climate – the clever elevation with stilts, the use of louvers and verandas for cross ventilation – in reality they will have suffered a great deal to live the dream.

Every Brisso knows what it’s like to be woken through the night by the racket of possums in the ceiling, hissing and cackling like devils being exorcized.

Every Brisso knows that cringe worthy experience of overhearing things in a Queenslander that were never meant to be overheard. Or being overheard by someone they didn’t realise was home.

Many Brissos will also have renovated a Queenslander. What to other people might look like a humble box of a house, the Brisso can see as a potential “traditional Queenslander”. The Brisso will talk about “lifting it up”, “pushing it back” on the block, “turning it around”, “building in underneath”, “opening up” verandas, putting on a deck, extending out the back, and so on.

This may end up costing more than the construction of a whole new house, but the wonderful thing is that the real estate market tends to reward such labours of love. There is nothing as reliable as the street appeal of a Queenslander.

One can renovate an architect designed seventies house, transforming it into a luxurious and functional home, yet find it hard to recoup the expense upon resale but money spent on dressing up weatherboard cottage goes a long way.

Renovation of the Queenslander, apart from being an important cultural and symbolic activity, is also an essential part of the Brisso’s wealth accumulation strategy. Brissos will have often ‘got ahead’ by selling a weatherboard house that they have turned into a Queenslander.

Brissos will have happy memories of ripping down an internal wall or two. And the joy of seeing those bi-fold doors open up onto the deck, cancels out the pain of paying for them.

The matriarch’s address book.

The Brisbane matriarch’s address book is The Address Book: one of the most valuable social resources in the family. 1

It is duly guarded by the Matriarch, and its data can only be deciphered and interpreted by her. She refers to it constantly, and as it is updated regularly throughout the many daily phone conversations with other Brisbane matriarchs, it is full of amendments and additions, in tiny formal handwriting that defies belief, given the matriarch’s complaints about arthritis.

Such details will include not only the full name, date and time of birth and birth-weight of other BMs’ new grandchildren, but also details of the correct job title of the other BMs’ important children and son-in-laws and names of their firms/companies/hospitals. The matriarch often uses a fountain pen, and if anyone were to gain access to The Address Book the tiny writing might appear smudged: this is merely part of the code, designed to guard the matriarch’s secrets.

The Book takes pride of position in (many parts of) the family house. It is the social equivalent of the financial records looked after by the CFO of a major corporation. One significant difference is that regulatory frameworks have meant that CFOs are required to make those records transparent and accountable. No such regulatory constraints apply to the BM and as such her social records, and indeed her power, remain opaque to all but some other BMs.

1 In fact there will be two address books, a red one and a blue one. The blue one is for everyday use, and includes details relevant for Brisbane and family. The red/maroon one is an extended ‘good’ address book which includes fuller details of family, friends and acquaintances locally and across the world.

The great Brisbane Matriarchs

Behind every great Brisso there is a truly great Brisbane matriarch (BM).

The BM is the most socially connected person in the world. She is the reason why Brissos on average have only 1.5 degrees of separation from the rest of the world 1 (i.e. the world that matters to the Brisso – affluent white, English-speaking, Christian, family oriented people).

She will know all the true Brisso families, and will have an astonishingly vast number of friends in her inner circle, and countless acquaintances. Through these people she is connected powerfully if indirectly to most significant families in Australia, which incidentally happen to be in Brisbane or Toowoomba.

The Brisbane Matriarch will have not only several children of her own, but also an impressive number of grandchildren. She often manages the family wealth (the Brisso’s inheritance) and the investment properties. But this is an easy task compared with the burden of social communication – the many phone calls, letters, cards and invitations that must be attended to. She writes formal notes and letters daily, often using deckle edge cards or paper. She always has letters to get in the post by 4 or 6 pm.

deckle edge cards and paper

If a BM has had an operation and cannot get to the letter box, her children will be assigned this daily duty. A general anaesthetic is the only thing that stops the Matriarch from writing cards and thank you notes. Many BMs have been known to ask for a pen and notepaper as soon as they come around after an operation.

The Brisbane matriarchs meet monthly for luncheons. It is the female Brisso’s duty to host elaborate luncheons for their Brisbane Matriarch mothers. This is a kind of Open Day for the BMs, an occasion to see how their friends’ children live, and thus gain some comparative insight into how their own offspring are getting on.

The BM’s friends have remarkable names, which appear to be finely nuanced variations of each other. For example there will be a Marge, Marg, Margi, Maggie, Margaret, and a Peg, Mary M, Mary T, Mary Mac, Marie (Maaah-ry) and Marie (Mar-eeee), a Marcy, a Marcia and a Mercia. The J names can be just as confusing, with Jan D, Jan T, Joan M, Joan Mac, June O, June B, Jean D, Jean S, Jeannie, Joy, Joyce, Joce. There is always more than one Rita.

The BMs’ adult children will have a completely different set of names, but names which will also be versions of each other: Jen, Jens, Jenny, Jane B, Jane Mac, Jane G, Janet, Jeanette, Janine, Janice, Julie, Jules, Julanne, Julianne. The third generation continue the tradition with a different name pool – eg Arna, Anna, Annalisa, Annika – which the BMs find absolutely confusing.

The Brisbane Matriarchs play bridge and golf. They continue these activities even when their minds and bodies are no longer capable, and this provides them with humorous material for talk, about themselves and each other. Most BMs stop playing tennis somewhere in their 60s because of knee trouble.

They are active members of select women’s clubs and meet weekly with their professional groups and/or charity organizations. After these social events, they relate to their own children detailed stories about incredibly successful women of Brisbane and their successful children.

Reading obits is a long but satisfying morning ritual for the Brisbane matriarch, one that prompts discussion (if she has company) about the deceased’s medical history and past family tragedies, and news about their offspring. Sometimes a cooperative spouse, a Brisbane Patriarch, will share the enormous load of trawling the obits each day, and the couple will work as a team, with the patriarch reading out names “Moreton, G. M” and the matriarch processing the information “That’d be Geoffrey, no hang on, I’m sure he died a couple of years ago…G. G….Gill Moreton? is it southside? ….”

Then there is the matter of organizing her own children to attend the funeral with her. Getting as many children as possible to accompany her to the funeral is imperative to the Brisbane Matriarch (there is intense if unspoken competition between the BMs in this particular form of attendance with family) and she has been known to resort to trickery to achieve this end. (A Brisso may sacrifice a half-day at work, thinking he/she is the only one who can take Mum to the funeral, and will find all the other siblings have been similarly motivated to attend).

In the past, Sunday church attendance was the occasion for parading  the extended family. Sadly, few Brissos these days attend Church with their parents each Sunday, even if they still live in the same suburb/parish (which is surprisingly common). This leaves funerals as the ideal special occasion for this important symbolic ritual. Funerals require formal dress, and sober manner, both of which are important for the BM as she shows off her children. Most importantly funerals  tend not to be invitation only.

Weddings are, and while Brissos do have to invite all their parents’ friends to their weddings, they rarely invite the second generation (except those who attended school with them).

The Brisbane matriarch is in touch with most of her daughters on a daily basis, and with most sons on a weekly basis. Some sons are special and are in contact with her more regularly. These special sons do not live in Brisbane: they are driven by guilt to contact Mum more regularly than their brothers. They have a lot to atone for (having left Brisbane) but the Matriarch will praise this son to her other children, and commend his outstanding levels of care via the phone.

These children find it incredible that this praise for the absent one continues no matter how much time they spend helping her with various errands, outings and in the hosting of luncheons. They understand that the praise for the absent one is a form of goading to promote dedication and duty among the remaining children, yet this knowledge does little to release them.

1. There is a Brisbane joke that goes like this: This guy at a party in Brisbane said to another guy “You know how there are six degrees of separation for most people in the world, well for Brissos there are only two degrees of separation”. The other guy says to him “You mean there are some people you don’t know?”