Who has the better lockdown, Sydney or Melbourne? Apparently the global pandemic isn’t about this competition?
My wife and I didn’t really react when Sydney lockdown was announced. There was no run for the shops, or the border for that matter. After all, we’re lockdown veterans now.
We’ve survived the Melbourne Long Haul; the circuit breakers; the short, sharp shocks; the Great Gossip Drought of 2020, and even a two-week stint of hotel quarantine when we moved from Melbourne to Sydney, with armed guards outside the door, no windows, an alarm that went off at 2am for no discernible reason and the soothing, dulcet tones of The Nanny playing on loop on the television.
Either my sanity is bulletproof or was lost so long ago I don’t miss it.
It’s always tempting to compare each other’s lockdowns. You want to be the person having the worst time just to get a bit of sympathy. After all, the most precious resource in lockdown is attention.
We’ve been very lucky during this time, which is incredibly unlucky from a sympathy point of view. None of our friends with multiple children under five in lockdown are interested in what a nuisance our puppy has been. And our mates stuck alone would rather answer the perennial lockdown question “so, what have you been up to?” a million times over than listen to any of our whinging about anything. All we have left is city-based skirmishes.
As with all great global crises, the discussion of this latest one quickly boiled down to the same core moral question: do you like Sydney or Melbourne better? It’s the perennial Australian argument and it hits all the same beats as always. Sure, Sydney’s lockdown has beautiful weather but Mel
bourne’s lockdown came with so much culture.
If you listen to five-sevenths of the nation, they’ll tell you that the global pandemic isn’t actually about the endless, pointless competition between Sydney and Melbourne. I’ve even heard rumours that Brisbane, the Northern Territory and other places are also affected by this current outbreak. Sadly, this is just jealousy talking.
There’s really no better way to while away the hours locked inside than endlessly prosecuting this argument again and again and again until we finally decide once and for all which city we should all live in together.
There’s a kind of beauty in it too. What could be more Melbourne than the slow transformation of lockdown from a personal and shared trauma to something that Melbourne “owns”. “That’s our thing,” you can hear them say, “and you aren’t even doing it right.”
As for Sydney’s problem – well, you may struggle to imagine this, but Sydney can get a little arrogant sometimes. From the first moments of this outbreak Sydney has walked through with a swagger. The kind of swagger Mr Bean has as he trundles down a street unaware of the absolute chaos he’s unleashing behind him. And most infuriating of all, it’s been pretty justified. The numbers have remained static and slowly reduced. God has once again smiled upon Sydney.
Is there anything more infuriating than the divine smiling upon your enemy!?
And here we reach our optimal positions. Sydney as the fitness influencer, born rich and convinced that proves their value. Melbourne as the goth under the tree in the park, shooting them daggers while scribbling the world’s worst lyrics in a tattered notebook. In most cases, this is harmless needling. It’s a bit of fun enjoyed by the world’s most boring people. Is it a potato scallop or a potato cake!? Quick follow-up question: could you take my brain out with an ice-cream scoop and pop it in the nearest bin?
The strange thing about this lockdown, however, is how vicious this harmless fun has turned. We’ve gone from fun banter to op-eds cheering on the virus as a way to teach a city a lesson for perceived grievances. We have personalities cracking down on rumours of crowded beaches (which are safe, you nerd) and open movie theatres (which would be outrageous if they actually existed).
It’s as if there’s a bubbling desire to see the other side suffer so they can know a little of what it’s like. The kinder part of me understands that this is a fear-based response. You never want to go through those dark times again so you lash out at those who you feel are putting you at risk. And the feeling only gets worse as Sydney, arrogantly, annoyingly, stays winning. No lessons learned. Complacency rules. Infuriating and probably correct. That’s Sydney, baby!
If we can learn one thing from this latest drama let it be this: perhaps lockdowns are not profound looks at the inner psyche of who we are as inhabitants of a city. Perhaps it’s just a time that stinks and we are all better off shutting up and getting through it.
Really, we should all be happy that the situation is such down here that we can piss away the day on useless arguments. What most of the world would give to do that.
James Colley is the head writer of Gruen and The Weekly with Charlie Pickering
From the first moments of this outbreak Sydney has walked through with a swagger and it's been pretty justified