ANZAC DAY

A BIG DAY IN AUSTRALIA is April 25th.
I have written once before about this event in the life of Australians and New Zealanders, so forgive me if I am repeating myself.  You most likely will not recall the earlier posting, so I am pretty safe.

ANZAC Day is hard to explain.  I could say that it is like America's Memorial Day and Veterans' Day combined but this would be misleading, other than it is about honoring the sacrifice of soldiers who served in wars, especially those who died.  My Uncle Norton was one such.  Three years older than my father, he enlisted and went off to fight in France after the beginning of the First World War.  He wrote his brother from England just before he embarked for 'The Front' and was killed two weeks later.  My father also enlisted, when of age, and saw service in France just before the end of hostilities.  Two brothers and two very different war experiences.

The word, 'ANZAC', stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.  Together the two nations went off to fight Europe's war.  Never having started a war it may seem odd that Aussies and Kiwis should be so enthusiastic about going off to war.  But those were the days of the British Empire and we all wanted to help out the Mother Country.  Australian Army soldiers got to be called 'Diggers', and still are.  Maybe because of all the trenches that had to be dug and maybe because of the work of sappers who dug tunnels under the opposing trenches, filled them up with high explosive, and then blew up the enemy positions.  Nowadays, 'Digger' also refers to a hard working type who battles against adversity.

Well, it is a big day beginning with dawn memorial services from the smallest hamlet to the big cities, with lots of marching through the streets (not just soldiers, but the children and grandchildren can also march in their parents' or grandparents' units).  Then there are the unit reunion dinners at the end of the day, tending to be an occasion for intoxication.  I used to drive my father to his reunion dinner so he could take a taxi home, likely as not a bit 'blotto' (Aussie term for 'drunk').  At these dinners, men and women who served can recall experiences and relive moments they are loth to share with those who did not go to war. One cannot explain the experience of war and it cannot be understood by those who have not know that experience.  They are careful to remember their dead companions in the words:
"They shall not grow old as we who are left grow old,
"Age will not weary them, nor the years condemn,
"At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,
"We will remember them.

The experience of war forged the culture of 'looking after your mates' that is the basis of what others might consider socialism and forms an important core element of the Aussie and Kiwi view of life.  This remains true even following the massive immigrations following the Second World War. No longer do we look to Mother England with almost half of Australians having come from other countries, though we still do have the Queen and her representatives (chosen by the Government of the day at the Federal and State levels), her Governors.

Although Australian and New Zealand service men and women have fought in many theatres of war, the signal experience was on April 25 1915 when the ANZAC Expeditionary Force attempted to seize the Gallipoli Peninsula, overlooking the Dardanelles Strait and blocking access to the Black Sea.  Conceived by Winston Churchill this was to be a secret operation.  Unfortunately the Turks got wind of it and gave our troops a fair pasting when they arrived.   After difficult weeks of fighting and heavy losses, the force withdrew overnight, quite a military masterpiece, and the Turks awoke to find their enemy gone.

As can often be so, war breeds respect.  ANZAC day is also a special day in Turkey.  It is also celebrated in French towns in memory of Australian and New Zealand troops who fought in their environs.  My uncle is buried in one of the vast cemeteries in France.

Then there are Anzac biscuits (cookies, if you will).  Cooked up at home and sent to the troops as part of food parcels, they have become another benefit of ANZAC.  Many thanks to Gail, at the local (excellent) coffee house, who cooked me up a perfect dozen or so for ANZAC Day.

EASTER SUNDAY 2012, DAY'S END
ASTONISHING THAT my last posting was Fourth Advent Sunday!!!
How fitting that, this Easter Day, I report myself alive and well.  The Winter is past, no skiing to speak of, so 'Boo Hoo'.  On the other hand, a warm and pleasant Winter with Spring straining at the leash all of March.  I managed to get to prune some bushes early in March, just managing to get at them before the sap began to run.  My first time at these and I literally took seven years growth out of them.  Now they are responding well, all freed up for new and better growth.

Down Under, we do not really have much of a Winter other than up in the snow country, the High Plains of Victoria and New South Wales.  Of course, it is a bit out of whack even then, being six months the other way around (like Winter when it is Summer here in the Northern Hemisphere and so on).  Therefore, it is impossible to understand the Resurrection Story without the perspective of Winter becoming Spring, when all those things that seemed to have given up living all come back to live.  We too, who have drudged out way through the cold days, the Sun (when it made its appearance, getting up later and later and disappearing sooner and sooner, up to the Winter Solstice in December).  Then the days begin to get longer until the blessed Equinox and we are at the crossing point.  Our blood begins to flow once more, strength and vigor return.  Suddenly we have energy and purpose!

My day began routinely, awaking around six and relishing a 'sleep in' until seven, when the rising sun began to lighten my room.  Then two cups of excellent coffee (from my favorite coffee house, Heavenly Cup), the first with a little sugar, a shave accomplished while the coffee was steeping.  Coffee done, I fell to cutting up banana and apple to add to the raisins in the measured water for my oatmeal (plus the turmeric cinnamon) and  oatmeal,  wheat germ and ground flax-seed, to the water once boiling and the gas turned off once back to the boil.  This done, down to the lower level (where I am now, writing this post) for my morning exercise routine.  Back in the kitchen, I treat myself to oatmeal, done just as I desire.  Now just enough time to get ready to walk to Church on this beautiful, sunny morning, along the quiet streets, across the old bridge, into downtown Corning.

The church is full, the music wonderful...after the gospel, Father Charlie preaches the best Easter message I have ever heard.  And what fun, passing the Peace; up and down the aisle greeting all my friends!

I walk home, stopping by the local supermarket for hot chocolate and a chocolate doughnut.  Once home, I sit out on the deck, soaking up the sun while drinking a cool beer and then a nap.  Mid-afternoon, I get out my new/old road bike (recently purchased from a friend who was loth to let it go).  Dressed in my resplendent road gear, I manage twelve or so easy miles, getting used to the new saddle (a racy, Italian job but very comfortable).   Head wind out...tail wind back; what bliss!

My life seems to have been work, work, work on the house.  I am moved into my fancy bedroom, have almost finished work on the potting room, and am starting on the garden work (getting ready to sow down lawn where the earth moving wiped out the grass) and have almost completed my new compost frames.  My work shop is functional and made it possible to do the work on the frames in amazingly quick time.  I love my new toys!

More detail of the house coming up in the other Blog.  I plan to start the new blog (BeliefAccordingToRobero) this week.  You will be able to untangle how it is that I, an agnostic, have come so to love life at Church.

That's it for now.  Here is a pic of my new bedroom.  Still lots of work to be done, finishing trim and whatnot.  Lots of projects all going on at once.

FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT

AS EVER, WENT TO CHURCH last Sunday, the fourth Sunday in Advent. Being in Colorado, this was the United Methodist Church just down the hill from my daughter's home in Holland Hills. Mainly, this was a Christmas Pageant, which was disappointing for me as I love to hear the readings from the Jewish part of the Bible (what Christians call the 'Old Testament'), also from the Epistles, and finally the Gospels.

Call me a traditionalist when I comes to 'order of worship'. Apart from the merest scrap of so of the scripture, there was no sermon or even a short homily. As you will all know from my last posting, I consider the best evidence suggests that the story of the magical birth of Jesus was a later addition to the gospel story, made long after the death of Jesus. The earliest writings in the Christian Bible (the New Testament') are the epistles of Paul. Despite his conferring with those who had known Jesus, he makes not mention of the elements we celebrate during the Advent season. Nor do the earliest and latest gospels in our possession (Mark and John), nor either can these stories be found in the other gospels that have come to light in recent times.

Despite the flimsy warrant for the Christmas story, I do enjoy this time. The exchange of gifts and the celebration of the possibility that the divine is part of human being, if we will only let it so. In the view of many serious Christian thinkers and in mine also, this is the fundamental message of the doctrine of the Incarnation. I love the stories from the first World War telling us that, at this time, opposing troops in the trenches of France, took a 'holy day' to join in the sharing of Christmas rations. It is a story of great power and beauty.

Many Christian pastors, through their original theological training and later reading, have become aware of the new understanding we have of the Bible and its fundamental message.This has come as a result of the study of these writings using the same methods as have been applied to other ancient writings. These scholars have wrestled with the issue of what is the core message that these writings have for us today. Beginning with the Jewish philosopher and scholar, Spinoza, they also have valiantly and rigorously sought to define a new meaning of 'god' in relation to the world.

I am sure that Jesus, as with other sages who have worked had at living in harmony with divine humanity, has a message for our times. What a good thing it might be were those who portray themselves as his publicists and evangelists were to get serious about discovering this and telling us in plain terms how to experience the breaking out of the kingdom of god in these troubled times.

In an interesting article in New York Times, Eric Weiner has something to say about the need for a better approach to becoming 'religious' (remember that to be religious is to find values that actually order our mode of being in the world). Weiner concluded,

"We need a Steve Jobs of religion. Someone (or ones) who can invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious."

REFLECTIONS ON MY LAST DAY IN OZ

A WHILE BACK, I BEGAN THE LET'S SACK GOD SERIES. At the end I concluded that, since god exists only as a concept within language and culture, we are free to define god in terms of our current knowledge about the nature of the world, its origins, and how it works; just as did the ancients who invented god at the outset and who redefined it through the ages. I concluded that, for me at least, this made me free to define god as the universe and this earth in particular. So I am part of god, I walk on god, I breath god, I feed on god. From god I arise, as do all of humanity and living creatures, and to god I return. So far, so good as the saying goes, but how can this relate to the practice of spirituality and the regulation that is the practice of religion?

It may seem paradoxical to you that I, agnostic, regularly attend Christian worship and especially the holy communion of the last supper of Jesus with his disciples. I seek to be a disciple of Jesus, despite my postion as agnostic. I stumbled upon Jesus by accident of birth and culture. Had I been born in India, I might have been of Hindu persuasion, or Buhdist, or even Muslim. In terms of the quest for spirituality and religious orientation, these are not inferior to the Christian culture I encountered as each has produced outstanding sages who have had much of value to say to we humans.

So here goes on what I think of Jesus.

Almost all that we know of Jesus is contained in the Christian Bible, the part know as the 'New Testament', mostly from the Gospels but a little from other writings. Beyond historical doubt, Jesus was a real person and is referred to very occasionally in secular histories not too long after his death. He was a remarkable person whose manner of life and teachings had profound influence on his early followers; this influence lived on and grew stronger after his death, even including many who had never known of him, apart from the news of him given from the first missionaries, apostles chosen by him to spread his message and also folk like Paul, whose writings constitute a good part of the New Testament and were the earliest references to Jesus. The Gospels were not written until some 40 to 60 years after his life ended.

The Old Teatament contains the record of how, over nearly a thousand years, the Jewish nation developed. It is a multifaceted story, long and sometimes tedious. and best read with some literary aids. In it we discover how the Jewish people came to believe in themselves as a chosen nation whose forefathers (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) entered into an agreement with a being so other that they refused to name and commonly referred to as THE LORD. This covenant was understood by the most clear minded to lead to eventual benefit for all nations but often descended to jingoist levels.

The record tells how, over the centuries, the nation fell away from this high purpose, only to be called back to it by fearless prophets who confronted them with the Word of The Lord. By the time of the more substantial prophets (Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah), it would seem as if The Lord eventually abandoned the original covenant, such as the one written on stone (as with the tablets of Moses), and was seeking a more effective way of bringing his purpose to fruition, a new covenant written in the human heart.

Through these centuries the Jewish people had considerable ups and downs, some days of spendour under King Solomon and downhill much of the time after him. This included civil war, conquest by other nations, physical removal to other lands, and a painful return and reconstruction leading toward the time of Jesus. Despite all this, a core of Jews held to the sacred traditions about following the way of The Lord. Eventually, following a long conquest by Alexander the Great, the Jewish lands were crushed under the might of Rome.

Jesus was born into a time when Greek influence was pervasive and Roman soldiers everywhere. As with any occupation, many lined up for a profitable relationship with Roman rule, others formed a resistance, and most just tried to get on with life as best they could. Jewish religious life was regulated from the Temple in Jerusalem but there were dissident religious groups also. Long deprived of true status as a nation, many treasured and held to the notions of the Prophets and looked for a better way, the Kingdom of God mediated by someone annointed by The Lord, known as the Messiah.

Jesus taught across the Jewish regions. speaking with singular authority and living in a controversial manner that often offended traditional religionists. However, most folk loved his messages. He was followed by large crowds from time to time and was sufficiently respected to be asked to speak in the synagoges following the reading of The Law and Prophets. He openly stated that he was to bring in the Kingdom of God, the rule of The Lord in the hearts of men and women.

Jesus walked a very tricky line, steering away from the notion of bringing in a new politik but emphasing how ordinary folk could live so as to fulfil the intention of the Law and Prophets, that is to love god with all one's heart and one's neighbor as oneself. He clearly realized his approach would bring eventual hated and resistance from officialdom. He warned his disciples that he would be killed and actively prepared a central group how to proceed after his death.

After his death, there was a period of confusion and then a process of consolidation. In making sense of things, his followers realized that his life had embodied completely the rule of The Lord, that he was the truest word of The Lord to human kind. The more they reflected on this, the more it seemed as if his words that he would always be with them seemed to have come true.

The further from his death, the more early Christians found it difficult to understand how such a man could have arisen. In the production of the gospels, they likely tended to embellish the stories of his teachings and life with fanciiful additions about his birth and supposed physical resurrection. I do not accept these as factual and it is not at all clear to me, after much study of the matter, that the early folllowers held these views. We are lucky indeed to have the record of some of his teachings and some glimpses of the person he was. These are sufficent to be a spiritual guide.

WHAT, HAVE WE BEEN MISTAKEN ABOUT SHOES? Or is this a modern parable?

THE NEW YORK TIMES ARTICLE, suggests running shoes may not be good for us. The piece has had a good run, both in the 'most emailed' and 'most viewed' lists for the past month. According to this view, a couple of million or so years of evolving into remarkably efficient walkers and runners has given us the ability to cover very large distances, due to the structure of our legs and feet, and also to our ability to cool by perspiration.

This gave us the ability to hunt game despite their being more fleet. In turn, this altered our diet to include more protein and fat and so may have influenced the development of larger brains. The few remaining hunter-gatherers, mainly in Africa, do not wear shoes.

I do not know when we first began to wear shoes. I am sure there was not much science to it. Shoes have proved their worth, assisting us to explore and populate all sorts of environments and accomplish difficult tasks. However, when I was a little fellow, in the Summer, we did without shoes totally, except when having to wear our best. Remarkable, really, how tough the soles of one's feet can become. Years ago a colleague of mine who trained marathon runners (before marathons were all the rage) told me he always ran in bare feet!

Wearing shoes has possibly altered the way we walk, transforming our gait from stepping onto the balls of our feet to first striking the ground with our heels. Soon after reading the NY Times article I was watching a tourism advertisement on the local South Australian TV. I was astonished to see a father and son of about eight years walking along the beach. The father strode along heels first while his son followed, springing along using the balls of his feet!

I have a pair of those fancy foot gloves, no cushioning of the heel, which encourages me to step first onto the front of the foot. It was a little strange at first but it seems to work just fine.

As part of buying a new bike, I was offered a free bike fit and pedaling instruction. Me...learn to pedal? Turns out a lot has been discovered about the science of pedaling. And would you believe, I have had to learn a new way to do that too! Recall that adage about old dogs and new tricks?

About the same time, I have been reading about the Jewish origins of the Christian faith. A bit odd, you might suppose, for an expressed agnostic, but I am holding onto the possibility that one might be influenced by Jesus even if one were to be atheistic. Back then, following the teaching of Jesus was know as 'walking in the way'.

Is there a metaphor, even a parable, tucked away here somewhere I wonder?

From what we can discover from recently unearthed early Christian writings and from a study of the gospels, what those early followers in the way believed and thought about Jesus could be very different from more recent, traditional views. I am not sure that one can assert that the early views, if different, are more correct than those modern Christian beliefs. Jewish sandals or Christian clogs...who can say?

Even so, I find it very liberating to try to discover what kind of person Jesus might have been and to get away from complex ideas, developed centuries after the fact, of who he was and what was his game, as a contrary Jew in a Jewish culture, with Jewish history behind him.

If the early believers in Jesus could have heard these doctrines, they would likely be greatly surprised, as well might have Jesus. Early beliefs about Jesus sat easily side by side with conventional Jewish views and could have been seen as an advance on current understanding of Jewish scriptures, as any reading of the Book of Acts, the earliest history of the spread of belief in Jesus, can demonstrate.

As I have mentioned in earlier postings, from the third century onward, the Church has fostered views of the nature of the world that are dualistic (heaven separated from earth, and so on) and unsupportable in the light of scientific knowledge, although consonant with the understanding of the third century.

As the saying has it, 'If the shoe fits, wear it.' But which shoe? The sandals of those early believers or the clogs of classical western Christianity? Perhaps neither. We need new shoes to try on.

One thing we do know. Whenever those early Christians met, it was with a profoundly powerful sense that Jesus was somehow amongst them. In these meetings we know they always broke bread and drank wine with a deliberate focus on the selfless life of Jesus who brought to them the strong sense of divine love.

Though important particularly for Christians, Jesus need not be the only spiritual guide since there are many who have though deeply about what it means to live a godly, or good life. Perhaps there are modern prophets to whom we might listen. What it seems to me I can do is to keep my life open to the possible in-rushing of spiritual insight and energy, an opening up of 'the way'.

Like new shoes that help me to a new way of walking.

ON OPENING A SUITCASE...

WHAT IS IN A SUITCASE CAN SURPRISE YOU...even if you think you know what is inside. I love the story of how Ernest Hemingway, on returning to Paris after many years, entered the hotel where he had so often stayed. The manager, having made him welcome, inquired whether he would like to take possession of the suitcase he had left in storage there. Hemingway had forgotten all about the suitcase but had worried over the loss of all his notes made when, as a young man, he had lived in the Latin Quarter. On opening the suitcase, there they were! His earlier life once more revealed. These became the material for his book "A Moveable Feast".

I cannot claim such a momentous experience but when I opened my suitcase left at my sister's home containing a cache of Aussie summer clothes, I was overtaken by surprise. Suddenly I became the fellow who had packed that case, with all the feelings and thoughts that I had at that time, contemplating my return to the US! My passing through the eye of the needle was about to become a labyrinthine adventure.

You who have so faithfully followed these postings will recall that I had intended to return to live in Australia permanently but, on being here for some months, decided that I really wanted to live in the Corning area in upper New York state. I can tell you that I had lots of ideas of how that might be and, frankly, quite a deal of anxiety, not to mention a certain feeling of slight insanity about this sudden reversal.

As I surveyed the contents of that case I felt as if sucked back into a time vortex, falling through the seeming eons of change in my life since closing up that case, a brief experience akin to Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Lots of things have happened since then. Instead of building a little home for myself, I found a house just perfect for conversion into an ageing bachelor's abode with hardly a vestige of garden just waiting transformation. This story is continuing in my other Blog

I returned to the US, spent some time with my daughter in Colorado and then drove up through Glacier National Park to visit with friends first in Fort Langley BC, then in Seattle and Portland, before returning to Basalt CO. In Portland, Howard, my sometime counselor, led me to see how core to my being is traveling, a revelation to me but likely no news to you, my readers.

Then it was across a good part of the US, enjoying the first signs of Spring through the mid-western states and finally into New York state where I was welcomed by rain, rain, and more rain. Eventually I went as far as Chatham, almost to Massachusetts, to assist Richard and Gina a little with the renovations of their new home. I had little idea of the adventure I was about to embark on with my small home in Sterling Street, back in Corning.

There have been other adventures but central has been my quest for spirituality. I managed to sack the god of my early adulthood and to redefine for myself the nature of belief. A stout agnostic, tending atheist, I nevertheless faithfully attend the local Episcopal Church when at home and where I feel very much at home. I have rediscovered what it might be to be a follower of Jesus (now a very different figure compared with my early conceptions of him) and value the company of those who follow a similar course and also the connectedness I feel with those who have gone before, all the way back to his time and teachings. I am not much concerned with theology though its complexities, inconsistencies, and dilemmas I still find most interesting. I think that I am learning more than ever to respect the faith of others.

Emboldened by the suitcase experience, this last Sunday I ventured downtown (into Adelaide, the City of Churches) into Flinders Street, first of all to Holy Communion (8 AM) at Pilgrim Church. This is part of the Uniting Church (formerly Methodist, Congregational, and Presbyterian churches). I joined with 20 or so other followers of Jesus to remember the last meeting of Jesus with his followers, according to his request). The visiting speaker spoke of the partnership the Uniting Church has with other fellowships around the world, particularly in Bali where Christians are developing interfaith approaches to worship and combating the effects of global warming. Following the breaking of bread and the communal cup of remembrance, we all met for breakfast.

My next stop was Flinders Street Baptist Church for their 10AM worship meeting. In this church I was ordained to the Baptist pastoral ministry (July 31, 1964). Must have been all of 40 years since last in this place! At coffee and biscuits after, I met an amazing number of folk I had known back in those long gone days, some of whom I was hitherto sure would have since died! So, another suitcase opened with very pleasurable results.

Just goes to show, suitcase have their little surprises.

ROBERTO DOWN UNDER.

MY LIFE HAS SETTLED INTO A PLEASANT ROUTINE. I manage to get in good walk each day, usually first thing after two cups of coffee, either along the cliff tops overlooking the sea (if at my sister's) or around the area where my daughter lives, if with her and her family. The bicycle has added a more demanding dimension, especially if at my sister's, as the hills thereabouts can be quite demanding. A 'to do' list is appearing as I survey the work yet to be done on her house. My daughter has a list too, but not so demanding so I can be more relaxed.

I though you might like this picture of the Aussie Magpie snapped while on my suburban walk, apparently studying a young Bottle Brush. This is alongside the light rail line that so conveniently runs close to where my daughter lives and then into downtown , or to the beach, depending on direction.

The beach terminus, by the way, as at a seaside place called 'Glenelg', the only town name palin-drome of which I am aware.

The Queen has been down here also, at least her fourth visit to this land. She did not come to Adelaide thereby avoiding getting in my way...that she has done three times so far, once in Adelaide, once in Melbourne, and once in Brighton UK. "What's with all these crowds?", I have asked these three occasions. "Its the Queen, silly.", has come the reply.

One of the reasons she has visited is to lead the Commonwealth Heads of Government meeting, an auspicious event unlikely to be noticed by the non-Commonwealth world*. Sixteen nations make up the Queen's Realm', including the UK, Canada, and Australia; these have the Queen as their nominal head of government. There is a bunch of other countries in the Commonwealth of Nations, all united by their love of the game of cricket (with the exception of Canada, although it is played in British Columbia)

Australians are quite given over to gambling. Currently there is a move by the government to require poker machines to have players nominate the amount of money they are prepared to lose. Once they reach this amount, the machines will cease playing for them. Given the many tales of gambling induced tragedy, one could hardly fault such a move. Predictably, the gambling business is up in arms against this measure. One gambling magnate said that present measures are adequate to prevent abuse and that other more effective means could be devised. A statement likened by one commentator as similar to a well-known African dictator speaking for democracy!

Less controversial is the famous Melbourne Cup Day, the culmination of a several weeks of horse racing. Aussies do love the horses. Some are a little miffed that the Queen, herself a prominent owner of racing horses, is not hanging about for this event (although she is 'bouncing the ball' to start an Aussie Rules football match over in Perth before she departs...akin to the President pitching the first ball at a baseball game). What is remarkable is that, on the first Tuesday in November, the nation will virtually stop to listen to the broadcast commentary, or watch the televised race. In offices everywhere, there will be the 'Cup sweep" when hopefuls will contribute a dollar or two, maybe to take home small winnings. Well, one has to be in it to win it! Your name is attached to a horse's name drawn at random from a hat and you may be lucky enough to have scored the winner.

After 'The Cup', the nation will settle down back to normal.

Apart from Adelaide, that is. Here in a couple of weeks, the Great Christmas Pageant will occur. Colorful floats depicting fairy tales and Christmas stories will emerge, all spruced up, from storage and parade through the city streets. This is almost an international event, attracting many visitors from around the world, and many thousands of children and their proud parents, all lining the streets and awed by the procession. The last float will have on board good old jolly Father Christmas and a gang of helping gnomes and fairies. This will deliver the venerable gentleman to the Magic Cave in the basement of one of the large downtown stores (the event sponsor), thereby opening the way for all the other stores to produce their St. Nicholas clones. Finally, the Season of Joy will be resoundingly upon us.

How I loved this event when a child, growing up in this fair city. Now I avoid it (like the Queen).

The Queen, in her royal way, is quite the trooper, even likened by some to having rock-star quality. There is some agreement that her visit may have set back somewhat the occasional urge of Australians to become some sort of republic. This can only be determined by a nation-wide referendum, involving a majority of the people and at least half of the states. This may go on the back burner during the present Monarch's lifetime, or until she abdicates. Long live the Queen?

*I take that back...it did get a mention in the latest NY Times at least.