Oh ANZAC day, Oh ANZAC day…
The Australians got something right. This last weekend I experienced my first ANZAC day. This is similar to Veterans Day except people actually observe it and if you walked out on the street you could tell it was a holiday. To paraphrase to how one of my Australian friends described it, ANZAC day is “the remembrance of the British sending us to fight on the wrong beach and getting slaughtered”. Beyond that I couldn’t really piece together much of what it was really about. I saw a few older looking Australians in funky military uniforms walking around the street and most people had a small pine branch pinned to their lapel.
Although I have never been in the Army and am probably more on the pussy side of the scale than the badass side (I’m a lover, not a fighter) I feel like I could relate to them. Not in any type of military context, since 100% of these guys are way tougher than I am, but rather in a symbolic way. The previous night I played wingman to one of my buddies who had been visiting for the weekend.
This chick that he had a hardon for is living in Melbourne she decided to come to Sydney with one of her buddies for the long weekend. Hanging out with this chick’s friend was certainly not me jumping on a “grenade” by any means, she was cute, definitely not my cup of tea, but a cute girl nonetheless. Chatting up her friend was not where I was reluctantly called to duty but rather with some random old lady whose house they were staying at. Apparently my visitors friend met this lady a while back and she offered that they stay at her place in Liverpool (an hour out of the Sydney).
When my buddy initially talked to the girls they were complaining about how far the place they were staying was (which it is). I chimed in and offered that they could crash at my pad. They, meaning the 2 girls, not THEY meaning the two girls and their old wet blanket soccer mom. However, just as the mighty Australian fighters did during their battle at Gallipoli, I persevered. When the girl I was talking to started to spout off racist theories on Aborigines (They have sex in the front yard and throw garbage in the streets!) – I persevered, when the psuedo-Mom was trying to cock-block my friend and I ran interference by chatting her up – I persevered, when the old lady came back to my house to crash and complained about being hungry – I persevered (and made her pasta).
At some point though even the most stalwart wingmen must fight thier own battles and look out for themselves. I closed the door and retreated to my bedroom at about 4AM. Leaving my friend and his chick on one side of the couch and what looked like a refugee camp with a snoring old lady on the other end.
The next day I was just about done with the wing-man routine as we went out to the bars for ANZAC day with the same “ladies”. It was kind of gloomy and I really didn’t feel like drinking much. If this were some random US holiday I probably would have just taken it easy and called it an early night. It wasn’t a random US holiday though, it was mother-fucking ANZAC Day. Little did I know I was walking into one of the most finely crafted holidays ever.
It is a widely known fact that Australians love holidays and love drinking. It is a not so widely known fact that are huge gamblers as well. ANZAC day is a pretty standard holiday except it heavily incorporates drinking and gambling combined with a public holiday. Basically, this is my personal holy trinity of fun (… in the name of the lazy, the drunk and the gambling spirit… amen). Let me explain. Apparently the Australian sailors who got their asses handed to them in Gallipoli played a game called “2-up” when they weren’t getting shot at. This game was banned in Australia because of the problems it caused but for this one day, ANZAC day, they lift the ban.
2-up follow’s Australia’s tradition of simplicity. Basically, everyone at the pub stands around in a circle with one person in the middle as the coin flipper. If you would like to bet that the outcome is “heads” you put whatever denomination you would like in your hand and point to your head. If you would like “tails” you look for someone that is pointing to their head and give them an equal amount of money that they are holding up. The person betting heads holds the cash until the flipping is complete and the coins come up either 2 heads or 2 tails. If ”heads” wins the person keeps the money in hand, if “tails” wins the “heads” person gives all the money to the tails person. That’s it. Simple. Oh, one last wrinkle – if there are 5 flips without definitive heads or tails the flipper has to do push-ups (if a guys is flipping) or jumping-jacks (if a girl is flipping)… good times.
Like I said, the Australians nailed this one. They hit the trinity of fun PLUS girls doing jumping jacks. BINGO. Anyways it was a glorious afternoon. We really need to sort out something similar to this in the US… maybe Roulettines Day… or Blackjackeen… maybe Crapshanuka? Ah, forget it…
