We used to run up to the wire fence. Excited. I guess we only did it for a couple of weeks of our lives. But it was 10 of us guys and maybe the odd cool gal as well. We were about 6 or seven. Distracted from our game of forcings back or stuck in the mud or yoyos or marbles by the car driving down President Avenue.
A massive car, usually garish colours. The driver honking and doing a big V sign out the drivers seat.
We ran breathlessly distracted and yelling out ‘Hey Charger, Hey Charger’ returning the V sign.
The power of TV ads. The power of herd mentality. The excitement of something new.
I remember that schoolyard as if it was yesterday even though I’ve been through a thousand engineered fads since then. Perhaps a little better at recognising I’m being manipulated.
I would ban militaries, weapons, countries but not nationalities.
I would allow religions but force them to teach all the other religions and alternate viewpoints as well.
I would put a lot of resources into education and health. Especially health education.
I would not tolerate great disparities in wealth between various areas of the world.
I would let anyone marry anyone. Ban torture.
I realise that virtually none of this is real politik because of the nature and greed of mankind but maybe this will change in the far, far future.
A single night of tangled heat
Arm hairs bristling at the faint touch
Of early embrace
Like eyes drawn to fireworks
On a beautiful harbour
Were our hearts and minds drawn
That night to each other
There was movement at the Oval
For the word had got around
That the Rangers were a stirring
About to take the ground.
Their mighty skills a soaring
Their boots polished anew
Heading again for glory
The people’s team in Blue.
The opposition wary
Prepared to wilt and die
Before the mighty Campiones
They lost the will to try.
And so it came to pass
The legends grew and grew
To be amongst these lads
To be one of the few.
Been 6 months. A patient reminded me today. Interesting to get their perspective. I take a phone call. I get distressed. I cried. They think I cut the consultation short and have to suddenly leave.
Then I read for him word for word my letter to their GP explaining rationally the history, the ultrasound findings and the plan. All very sensible and coherent for the situation.
But it struck me.. He was more concerned 6 months later with my well being on that day. He was showing me empathy. It nearly made me cry again.
People are strange and wonderful. Selfish and caring.
Our family had modest holiday ambitions when I was a child. It usually involved getting in our General Motors Holden white sedan with the sticky plastic seats, winding the windows down and heading to the small country towns of NSW and Victoria.
A favourite destination was the Blue Mountains. Still a major tourist mecca and a region I would recommend to all of my traveller friends when they come visit me in Australia. It’s just a couple of hours from Sydney by road now but in my childhood days it was a major trek up a winding mountain road.
I saw my first snow up there and rode my first horse. They used to have a horse stable and hire right in the middle of Katoomba up near the train station.
I liked the look of Tiny Tim and distinctly remember requesting him on a second trip up to the mountains. I wonder if he remembered me?
They want your lips and mind and dreamy eyes and romantic thoughts and your dancing thighs. Your sadness and your sentiment. Your hope and your regret.
They want all of you.
I was asked this and thought it a very good question.
I think I’d settle for a walk on a bright sunny morning with a vista of steaming grass in fields stretching to faraway rolling hills.
A walk with a nice person I was passionate for.
That would do quite nicely.
Jesus was so annoying. Every Tuesday I would slug up the hill in Oxford. I’d have been on call already for at least 24 hours and often the last 72. I was eating shit and greying rapidly. Still I pushed that bike up the hill to the Churchill Hospital where I would be able to gorge on a feast of English patients with their horrid gall bladders, pouting hernias and varicose veins.
In to theatres, sipping on a Coke and slapping down a Mars Bar. Sitting eagerly watching the first of the snow fall whilst the locals sighed.
But then there was Jesus. Possibly one of the most annoying people I can remember in life. His role did not exist in Australia. He was not a nurse, not a doctor but he seemed to know too much and too little about anaesthetic machines. He had a way of imposing himself on the flow of the day. His loud Spanish accent reminding me of Manuel of Fawlty Towers on steroids.
By the end of the day Jesus had worn me down. I rode my bike back to my little house and my gorgeous baby girl. Got the video camera out and recorded her impressive eating or smiling skills.