NAKED CITY – THE HANGOVER FROM THE COATHANGER!

By the time you read this the last sulphurous fumes will have dissipated, the last terrified cat will have emerged from the sanctuary of an underground drain and the final astronomical bill will have been tallied for Sydney’s annual cracker night extravaganza.

The Lord Mayor Clover Mayor has called the Sydney Fireworks the most important event in Australia, watched “by over a billion people worldwide”. Whilst the figure is no doubt wildly exaggerated, this is perhaps one way of justifying the arguably obscene amount that is spent each year on the Lord Mayor’s NYE party at the Opera House, a publicly funded, private pissup that has cost an average of $750,000 in recent years. Just who is invited to this very ‘private’ event is never officially revealed, although we are assured there is a cross section of business leaders and community leaders, government officials and even journalists. Needless to say I was not invited this year!

The actual breakdown of costs for the party is also hard to determine, and you would have to dig deep into the Council’s accounts to see just where all the money goes. The total bill for the 2016 event came in at $763,508 with catering at $177,463 and ‘other expenses’ (supposedly audio and lighting, staging, temporary toilets and structures, furniture, access equipment and generators, fencing, artist fees and, decorations) listed at $444,504. Whoa, does that include sticky string and party hats?

Those who object to the cost of Sydney’s NYE Fireworks and the Lord Mayor’s party are quickly labelled killjoys – mean spirited bastards who would stand in the way of millions of Sydneysiders enjoying themselves. I would have no problem with a more modest pyrotechnic display, but perhaps the most interesting factor is the psychology of the whole event. There’s no doubt Sydney Harbour provides a spectacular backdrop for an extremely well promoted and orchestrated event. Sydney’s NYE fireworks are there to make us feel good about the city, showing it off to the numerous visitors and the world at large. For 10 or 15 minutes of alcohol-charged eye candy we are persuaded to forget all that is wrong with the joint and join in a kind of jingoistic, communal euphoria – a bit like a mass stadium rally in North Korea (minus the coloured flip cards).

The cold hearted reality of the next morning is that nothing has really changed. The light rail has turned the heart of the CBD into a bleak construction zone, Oxford Street in Darlinghurst is fast becoming a boulevard of boarded up shops as is Darlinghurst Road in the Cross, late night life is in the doldrums and hundreds are still sleeping rough. Yes, it’s still the same old Sydney with its sky rocketing rents, shortage of affordable accommodation and officious Council compliance.

Apart from their visual appeal, the fireworks, and the hype that surrounds them, are essentially an enormous distraction (the more cynical might even say a ‘con’), but hopefully one that is quickly put aside in the broad daylight. Welcome to 2017!