I believe another perspective is warranted in the Supercars cancellation debate.
Emotive language is used in the "celebration" of the cancellation. I would like to offer a different point of view.
Supercars, to their credit, rightly cancelled the race this year and supporters understood but were disappointed.
I believe those who rejected the event outright from the beginning missed an opportunity to embrace something different, even if they had no interest in it.
Unlike the organisers they have not given an inch.
So, not knowing anything about racing cars or big racing events, I approached the first race in Newcastle with some trepidation and scepticism.
It was an entirely new experiment for our city.
When the infrastructure began it was in competition with a lot of building work around the beach end of Newcastle so we were already used to these inconveniences.
Sometimes I was instructed to cross a road for my safety. I waved and thanked the workers rather than let it irritate me.
When my grandchildren visited we took walks along the work areas, sometimes having a coffee to watch. The younger male infants were mesmerised, watching their Tonka toys come to life. I spent many hours enjoying this with them.
Most people seemed to take it in their stride without complaint.
"This was new but, hey, let's give it a go," seemed to be the consensus.
The first Supercars race day was an unexpected thrill.
The first Supercars race day was an unexpected thrill. The momentum that had been building broke loose with the sunshine and people of all ages poured into our city. I felt privileged to live within the zone.
The momentum that had been building up broke loose with the sunshine and people of all ages came pouring into our city.
I felt privileged to live within the zone.
But then the first car with our local young driver Charlotte Poynting shot up Watt Street at a pace I had never seen or heard.
I was like an excited child and did not go inside for several hours. When I did and closed my door, the sound was still there but not intrusive.
I could block it out by not letting it annoy me.
A practice learned in yoga of letting go that which does not serve you. You hear it, then you let it go.
On the second day that I ventured out I found to my delight children sitting on fire engines, talking to paramedics or looking inside a police patrol car.
There was so much activity for young and old. Fabulous food, free bags of goodies, and people enjoying themselves.
In between guiding ships into the harbour, the tugs often did their dance to show they were there.
It was all such a lovely atmosphere.
Unlike the resentment from some, there is a buzz of activity and excitement in the air when preparations begin each year for the race.
It's like Christmas for grownups.
But this all depends on your perspective.
Unlike the stereotyping of people in angry letters to the paper, one would have thought our city was about to be invaded by angry tattooed bogans from the outer suburbs.
Unfortunate elitist language was creeping into articles.
Words like "resent the intrusion" are unfortunate.
I do not resent an intrusion that does not harm me or my family and friends. Covid-19 was a crippling intrusion.
"Public loss of amenity" happens when a beach gets washed away or the Opera House burns down.
"Disruption" is the most popular description when it comes to Supercars.
Life-threatening events like cancer, death, divorce, heartache. These are the horrors that disrupt my otherwise pleasant and happy life.
Yes, some businesses did suffer and others prospered.
The future plan is to help them all be involved. Much was learnt.
Changes would be made.
Older people realised there were more doctors within the boundaries than at any other time, so their safety and health was not threatened.
The East End isn't going to be harmed or lose its heritage value simply because Supercars comes to town once a year.
Saying it should be held elsewhere misses the whole point.
Those of us fortunate to live here must share what we have.