Folklorist, Warren Fahey looks for Australia Day Goal Posts.

It is difficult to believe we celebrated Australia's bicentenary thirteen years ago. So many things have changed and so many things we had hoped would change have not.

Change is something we appear to take for granted as we brutishly dismiss our heritage. More historic buildings tumble, ratbag politicians come and go, important aspects of our social life continue to go unrecorded, our language bends to the demands of usually unacceptable cultural imports and our tall poppies wilt as we gleefully cut them down. Sadly we appear not to learn from history, nature, family experience or even our mistakes. Australia Day, two hundred and twenty four years down the wallaby track, provides a good opportunity for all of us to review, revise and, most importantly, to get this century's goal posts in sight.

In 1901 we were smug at the thought we had won the battle to establish ourselves as Australians first and transplanted Brits second. As a penal settlement we had paid our dues in blood, sweat and deprivation yet, despite the high costs, we somewhat cheekily stated it was better to be 'colonial born than sterling bred'. The 1860's cry of "Rush away!" had seen Australia as a 'new land' where lucky diggers 'could pick up lumps of gold' (unfortunately there was a hell of a lot of earth mixed in with it!). When the elusive yellow metal petered out we found new wealth and a certain amount of respectability on the land, riding high on the back of sheep and cattle. The latter part of the nineteenth century saw us question the rights of the boss and worker, experience the pangs of economic depression and open the factory gates for a new industrialised work front. The turn of that century heralded major political change as we celebrated unification as a Federated Australia. We also dreamt the 'Great Australian Dream' as we rolled our suburban blocks out complete with front lawn, back garden and shed. We also continued to ignore our obligation to our displaced indigenous people however we did start to notice women were starting to speak out.

We felt justifiably proud of our successful pioneering past, our continuing role as colonial flag wavers for Great Britain and our somewhat meagre war chest of international achievements. Above all we felt that we belonged to a unique nation - we were bonzer, beaut, corker and dinki-di to boot!

I suspect that in our recent scramble to endorse multiculturalism we have lost the plot on what makes us unique and what makes us tick as a people. Rest assured I am not waving some sort of One Nation flag but it is true that as a nation we are poor caretakers of those things that we should nurture, those aspects of our past and present that identify us as a people. We hear and read a lot about various ethnic groups that contribute so much to the energy and character of today's Australia however embarrassingly little is said nowadays about our convict, colonial or pastoral heritage. When we do salute our heritage it is nearly always a 'phoney coloney' or pastiche approach that simply does not ring true blue. We think we look Australian but how many of us wear back-to-front baseball hats, tee-shirts advertising American universities, boat shoes and penny loafers and any sort of clothing designed by Calvin, Tommy or Donna? We think we sound Australian but do you find yourself apologising for the odd slip of 'Have A Nice Day', 'You're Welcome' and, not to forget , movies, sure thing, guys and gals and thousands of other Americanisms that have crept into our language. Our foodways have changed dramatically too as we order 'take out' of mass-produced, over-promoted hamburgers, hot dogs, candies, fries, cookies and assorted crap. If you think our cultural expressions have been spared then think again. Radio stations barely meet the low 20% Australian music content and television programming smacks of tokenism that is often downright insulting. The majority of our music still sounds American and, although we put on a brave face, our film industry is still struggling to find its commercial voice. Despite the mountains of books that we read the truth remains that the majority of our authors struggle to earn a living wage.

Alfred Deakin Henry Lawson Bert Hinkler

Let me tell you about a scary incident from last year. I was talking to a school group and singing some old bush songs. The students, aged around twelve, were generally receptive to the stories and songs but their overall awareness of our basic history was frightening. In discussing the 'man on the ten-dollar note' they identified Lawson then, to my horror, they explained "he had founded the Commonwealth Bank". Henry would have died! They knew nothing of Ben Hall, Thunderbolt, Alfred Deakin, Bert Hinkler or Roy Rene let alone Ginger Mick, Bluey and Curley, Jessie Street, King O'Malley or Xavier Herbert. Ask them for a list of their most admired and you would probably end up with Bart Simpson, the residents of South Park and the team from 60 Minutes.

I appreciate that we live in a rapidly shrinking international world and that a 'one people' approach is inevitable however if we are to think 'global' we surely must invest some hard yakka to ensure that we act and remain 'local' in identity. Personally I lament the loss of a decent Australian hamburger with its generous salad and hearty flavours and I object to the unwelcome changes to our flattened language and slanguage with our wonderful dictionary of words and expressions. Give me a "Thank's mate" or a "No problems" any day over twenty 'You're Welcome'. I want Australians to go to the flicks or pictures rather than the movies and especially to experience films that talk to us in our own language. I believe I have a right to hear Australian music and see Australian creativity, or at least a healthy slab of it, on my radio and television. I would be much happier seeing more Chesty Bonds, R.M.Williams boots and, of course, the home grown contemporary designs of Trent Nathan, Collette Dinnegan and the rest of our fashion snippers. I don't need a Dr Pepper or a Burger King and I certainly don't want Judge Judy, Springer, Ophra or anything with canned American or British laughter.

It's true that Australia is now a 'melting pot' or, more appropriately, a giant wok, where we are all ingredients. This is a healthy dish and for all his supposed sins I will never forget Paul Keating's contribution to our national wellbeing as he repeatedly reminded us that we “are part of Asia and a long way from England”. Most migrants came to this country to join with us to experience our culture. Of course it's important that ethnic groups maintain their cultural roots but not at the demise of our own Anglo-Celtic tradition and especially if any loss is to be replaced by a fake American-styled international culture.

Entertainment is a good cultural indicator. Sadly we have become a nation of people who get entertained rather than entertain each other. Times have certainly changed from those days and nights when we stood around the piano belting out songs and everyone had a 'party piece' at the ready (because you never knew when that call would come). Television and insidious non-stop music have effectively stifled our yarn-telling and singalongs at the local rubberty-dub. When we do tell yarns they tend to be a string of television-inspired one-liners rather than the elusive and seductive drawn out traditional model. Our galloping rhymes and poetry now sound like a cross between Pam Ayers and a dog's breakfast lacking those experiences that inspired the works of Lawson, Paterson, Vennard and that prolific character Anon. The worrying aspect of all this is that we are encouraging an extremely passive approach to our culture. If it's not attractively packaged and promoted with a keen marketing campaign then it's most probably second rate. The adventurous nights of local plays at theatres like Nimrod and La Mama have been replaced with large-scale theatrical productions. If we venture to a night-club we demand more than a mirror ball to excite us. Concerts need to weigh up against the likes of Las Vegas and Broadway and all the more exciting if shared with your nearest and dearest 40,000 at the local sport's arena. Supa Centres have robbed us of an enjoyable shopping experience as if such satisfaction were measured in neon signs and parking bays.

I have a frightening nightmare: I am at Homebush Bay, standing, cheering our Olympic swimming team that has just romped home with the bacon. They stand ready to accept their medals and (this is where the dream gets nasty) there they are wearing back-the-front baseball caps being handed their medals that are actually Big Macs. They stand tall and encouraged by canned laughter they sing the national anthem sounding like a cross between the theme from Mash and The Love Boat but is actually some jingoistic rubbish called 'I Am Australian'. To my horror the stadium audience enthusiastically joins in waving their collective arm as if on Countdown circa 1975.

Nothing has changed us more than the computer. Yes, it is a wonderful gift for communication but what about the down side where children are given screens at playschool and teenagers are now referred to as 'screenagers'. Kids grow up knowing about gigawatts, modems and print formatting but nothing of Snugglepot and Cuddlepie. I want Australian kids to experience wicked banksiamen, bushranger tales and what it was like to ride with 'the Man From Snowy River'. The fact remains that the computer is far too seductive and a massive waste of our time. If we surrender to its vast repertoire we will drown culturally for if any aspect of our life is international then the computer would take that crown. Not only have we moved from a nation of people who entertained each other to a nation that gets entertained: we now get the bulk of that entertainment electronically.

If we are to clearly see the goal-posts then we need to look backwards so our view of tomorrow is honed on history. We need to revise that lesson of how our country was built on a rough-and-tumble pioneering spirit that managed to succeed in the face of drought, flood, bushfires and a loneliness that knew no boundaries. It was built on honest hard work where decisions were made on the basis of fair play. It was a culture built on mateship, ingenuity and sheer determination. It was a cultural birth that relished in larrikinism and the satisfaction of a job well done. Can we say the same of today's Australia let alone tomorrows? We still might be bushwhackers at heart but do we really appreciate our history? Is mateship a myth? Why have we so much brutal crime that matches scene by scene what we have viewed on television? Why do we mistrust the media, our political leaders and even our church? Do we really want to work hard when our CEOs are being paid ludicrous financial packages that leave us shaking our communal heads? Will we ever have real self-respect when indigenous Australians do not get a fair go and our Prime Minister tap dances across so many basic issues? Have we a right to be proud when so much is skewiff?

'Doom and Gloom' I hear you shout over your Australia Day barbecue. To that I say - wake up Australia! Shake yourself and realise that we live in one of the best countries in the world and it is a combination of where we have come from and where we are now that makes it so bloody good. Say no to all those cultural temptations that weaken our national identity. Stop wearing silly American clothing. If you have to eat fast food then seek out a real hamburger or fish and chips. Turn off the television and sing a few old bush songs and wheel out the grandparents to tell some stories. Stick to your mates – (you'll never know when you'll need a fiver). Disconnect the computer in the knowledge that you really don't need that much information. Buy Australian. Keep dreaming of our republic and Advance Australia fair dinkum!