It was very surgical, quick, precise and brutal.
Phone calls stopped.
Emails stopped.
SMS Stopped.
We talk, she's tired, been talking to friends, things are tense. Relationship is tense. She has to go.
6 days later I get 30 seconds on the phone and it's over.
No reason, no explanation.
She just can't.
And again I don't belong.
Love lives here, but I am only a guest.
Well, no lies. As much as I love the quote, it is one of my favourite Simpson moments.
But there have been secrets, many of them.
And not all due to my lack of blogging.
Yes I did kill the blog on my own website and I'll move it back here. Which only means to continue to blog here. Not to move any of the old content.
It serves no purpose.
Lately I've been spending time away from the computer. Most of that has been on the phone to her.
She is all consuming. Not in a resource destroying manner, in an all encompassing, enticing alluring manner. In fact until yesterday when I was digging through old photos I forgot everyone else. The past indiscretions, strings pulling on my heart were all disconnected.
But she has been gone for days and I was filling in time, and I found photos. People, places, faces, smiles and it is all in the past.
Not to assume happiness is absent. Her presence makes me happier than anything has in a long time, I have achievements at work, I have corrected old friendships that became absent. And I have had horrible sadness.
As no-one knows. No-one in the world listens to or understands the troubles of being in here. The voices of reason and anger. The things I hold blame for. How do you accept something someone wants to do for you, their heart breaks by not taking it. But taking it breaks their heart.
There has been an ongoing cloud of darkness hanging over my ship. I'm not depressed, I am not physically ill. I have been in denial. I have ignored or struggled to come to terms with many things since I lost my family.
It was a difficult and complex time and I took a very long time to come to terms with these things. There were lovers, there were relationships, if only naming names was appropriate. And all of them were based on the wrong foundations.
I dated and then lived with someone working for me, I ran into, dug out and then chased after another blogger, I dated and spent time working on a relationship with someone who loved me more than I would ever love them. I courted my flatmates ex-wife.I spent my time filling other people's needs.
Each of these women needed something from me. it doesn't detract from who they are and my attraction and feelings for them were genuine. But they were more appealing to me than things should have been because it was about need. I didn't need to face to the noises inside if i was helping others.
A need for company, respect, to be treated like a princess, to be treated as an equal. And in the end all of them failed. Because as much as you need your partner, you also need you.
And as much as any of them may have made the decision to end or not even let it start. I was squarely in the middle of the decision. Actions or lack thereof have a profound impact on the responses by those around you.
As I have advised in the past and as some people are aware. I took control of my life some 6 months ago. Properly and completely, like I hadn't done for years.
My writing changed, my blogging changed, my photography changed.
I have advanced my position at work.
I have lost 13kg total.
I have gained some 15-20% more muscle mass than I had (and it hasn't gone unnoticed).
I write more.
I have devoted time to my own projects, where my heart and passion lies.
And I decided to remain single. The decision was solely based on me. I needed time to concentrate on me, so I moved, A great distance away from everyone and everything.
Hours on the train each day to think and contemplate. Minutes to get to my little girl.
And then I met her.
The sequence of events is mostly inconsequential.
I can state that I was removing my trail of logins from around the internet(as I do from time to time) and I was cancelling membership to a dating site.
A popup suggested I join a chat and I clicked it on a whim. Expecting a response from the web server that they wanted me to join. They didn't and I saw her.
Not being one to keep things online it moved off. (Side note, What the hell is the issue with people on personal sites who don't ever want to meet anyone face to face. It is a dating site, if you don't want to date people you're taking alllllll the wrong steps).
And we spoke.
And we continued to speak.
And then all was consuming.
Day, night, constantly.
And then she left. A trip, a holiday. Weeks of no contact, she would have no internet, no phone. We had just met, how could this be a problem.
And then email. Brief flirtatious, direct. Confessions. Only one email. I was the thought, I was the focus. I was all consuming.
Time ticks on and I smile. I awake to messages, I sleep with thoughts.
Warm lips, soft skin, smiles. Laughter.
I remain only a guest here. But I have been invited in.
The difficult decision in life is the internal one.
The one you often don't realise is a decision at all.
I've decided to run wild with mine about people.
But I haven't reached a conclusion yet. The details are simple.
Are people on dating sites hypocrites?
Or is the average persons knowledge of their own psyche and social skills that appalling that people genuinely are unable to make the connection between reality and fiction.
The most common one that stands out is the "Honest" comment.
No in fact you are not. Because with-holding information is as bad as a fabrication.
Think back to court-room dramas on tv. "The truth, the WHOLE truth and nothing but the truth"
Even TV thinks you should tell the whole truth.
Hypocrisy #2: Please, only people who can spell, I h8 th1s knd of stuff from U.
And then they proceed to not punctuate anything. Surely a declaration of a hatred of poor grammar and spelling should not be followed by poor grammar?
Oh I forgot, the standard of what is acceptable is only a mirror. You can bastardise the language as much as they do, just not any further.
So in response " sorry sweetheart if you want to complain about language then youd best learn how to use it before you go off half cocked and declare other people to be hard to read".
Hypocrisy #3: Someone with a good sense of humour.
And every comment is responded to with "Sorry?" or " you've lost me"........
If you are massively incapable of relating any comment you make to either a pun or a famous movie quote then you are not looking for someone with a good sense of humour. In fact my good sense of humour means I find a huge variety of things amusing, and am happy to adapt and share.
Ok that's it.
I'm off to sleep, and i KNOW the blog isn't meant to be here. My internet access is slow and limited and I couldn't be bothered fighting with google to create a new one not linked here.
Asta Manana.
In response...
1. We all think you do this. Every one of you, regardless of whether you claim to have these friends or not. Especially those of you with blogs. You're so used to "teling all" ;)
2. This one always made me wonder.. And I've had a fair percentage of partners say "only one before"....
And these weren't young ladies. In fact all of the few number of partners there have been I have known. EG name, all about them and so on. No club pickups.
3.We do this to you to. Well figuratively speaking....
4. Do not forget the past, can't know where you're going less you know where you been. And I don't need to win every moment do I. The fact I'm here and he's not is a firm indicator it didnt work with him!
5.Every sexual partner has shared the fantasies and what turns me on. It's a sexual relationship for a reason.
6. Good crying? And crying after you've broken up doesn't count.
7. Odd conversation........ but I've had discussions with partners about this...
I've only talked "dirty" to one partner. And in the end it was negative. I didn't want to feel that way. I didn't want to lower how I felt to something primeval.
Now I talk openly and very sexually as the time requires.
It's still very adult.....
But it's more of the "I love tracing this line from your cheek down your side, so many..........gentle.......curves" while highlighting said curves with the edge of a finger...
There is some more adult language used, but all in all it's tasteful.
Some conversations I think don't need to happen. And it's not what the moment is.... You might have a fantastic ass, it's not why I'm attracted to you though...
8. Oh sweet jesus mary and mother of god.
Is there a simple answer for this? For me? Yes.
I decided at the age of 16 to hell with it all. I said iot when I felt like it, I called when I felt like calling. Sure a few girls along the way distanced themselves, the others loved the attention and that I showed it.
No game playing, "wait 3 days to call her" I got told once after a great date. I called her halfway home and setup another one ;)
9. I have her sms :( If she leaves any voicemails I will keep those too ;)
I have all of the emails from my marriage.
It was a long period of my life and it's incredible to occasionally look back at my life. How I felt, talked, changed and grew.
I'm very nostalgic... and the bonus of ye olde photographic memory. Each email I read is in perfect context. I know when it came...... what I was doing......... and so on.
10. This is NOT everyone. And I hate it. If I ask you a question it means I want your answer to it. Do not play games and test me. I am here because we both want to. If you need to test me, then we don't want to be here.
11. You do not.
12. Got it, all over it.
Nothing is a clearer sign of wanting to be around someone than asking them out somewhere and chasing after them, after they tell you to leave ;)
13. Got it. As long as you do. Sometimes we'd love you to climb on our lap while watching tv, grab the remote and turn it off and then just look.
14. Are you completely mental? Why the hell would I flirt with someone else to flirt with you? If we're together I am onto you like white on rice.
I would punch the valet guy in the chest and not talk to you for 3 days.
That should be the manly behaviour you're obviously looking for.
15. Is it the rushing off to work? Or that all women love a man in a suit?
16. You'll have my attention as soon as you want it. No need to start a fight, just let me know you want it. Being present is enough to know you want it.
Standing between me and the TV is also an indication.... ;)
17. I get argued with for paying. One specific friend (only a friend, still a woman) always pays her share. When I pay before she can, she slips money in my pocket or something. And knowing her, it's about control. I would have control if I paid apparently.....
18. Not even gonna go there... eww fantasising about my friends......
19. We know you do.
Sometimes we get told.
20. I threw a portrait today. It was 5 feet tall..... it's 11 years old and has moved house with me 9 times. The wife ignored it in the shed. I don't know why I kept it, I never looked at it.
She's gone now. Bye Caroline.
That's an effective comment on a post if I've ever seen one ;)
Nothing permanent about it though. Only a guest.
Well 5 questions isn't exactly "great"....... But as much of an internet meme that it is. I've volunteered to be tagged by Boff. And she's hit me with 5 questions.
So without further ado........ Kal's interview...
1. What is the greatest fear you have for your child? What is the greatest hope?
Nicely asked question. The greatest fear for my daughter is that she won't get to achieve her dreams. I live in fear of her failing to meet what she wants because people in her life don't see her potential or don't let her use it for whatever reason. She is a smart girl. Excessively smart, she converses with me in a very adult fashion. She learnt to write her own name, and has not yet started school at all, she reads signs and can understand some concepts of maths. She holds the potential to be and do anything she wants. And I'm terrified the people of the world will hold her back for some unknown reason.
My greatest hope is that she see's the world the way I do. For her to place value on honour and morals and always strive to make others happy and to do the right thing. I hope that this torch is passed succesfully.
Of course there's the unspoken answer. Fear for my child. Like every parent. Outliving them. There is no scarier thought as a parent.
2. If you could change yourself, what would you change and why?
This could be physically or mentally. I'm gonna take the easier (or harder) route and use both.
Physically: I'd change my ticks. Little quirky habits, Mostly the fact that I am never comfortable. I feel like I'm always sitting wrong. I suspect it's because i'm tall and it's all leg. I know it annoys people, but I'm not doing it on purpose, It's just how I am.
Mentally: I'd like to think I'm intelligent, emotionally stable, honest and genuine. And thinking so causes me problems. It's not easy to do the right thing. Sometimes I'd like to just do the wrong thing. It seems so much easier for some people.
3. What do you find so alluring about photography?
Many things. The two things that I tell people...
I can capture an emotion. Take a photograph to lead you to feel a certain way. Often this will be how I was feeling when the photograph was taken.
And a moment captured in time. You can disconnect from where you are and drop into another moment. Whether it's taking you back to a party, or a sunset. Or bringing you into a micro-cosmos underneath a leaf as you race a ladybug for food.
4. What is one thing you’d like to do before you die?
I've already heard me being called Daddy by a little voice, so I guess it only leaves to see the Pyramids. Cliched I'm sure. But to visit something thousands of years old. A marvel of engineering and man. The things they needed to understand, the concepts, the sheer effort and work involved. These people beleived strongly in what they were doing. And to me there's something strong in that to see. There would be a certain something about them you would not get anywhere else. They are from a different world.
5. Who is the film star that most closely reflects the girl of your dreams?
Tough question. And very hard to nail down. This would have been answered differently 5 years ago. Very differently.
Short list.......... Audrey Hepburn - For sheer Feminine Grace.
Renee Russo - Class
But I would have to pick Kate Beckinsale.
She is soft and feminine, strong and upright. She holds feminine grace and a high IQ. She writes and won two major awards for short stories as a teenager. She also speaks 4 languages fluently, and we all know people who are at least bi-lingual have brains that work better (apparently the extra effort taken for them to know which language to use at any given time gives the whole brain a tune up.)
So yes, Kate. Feminine, intelligent and I'll presume she's honest.
Not a difficult list to match it seems............
Home. I hadn't thought about it in years. Well that's wrong (new record for contradicting myself in a blog, 8 words)
I hadn't thought of anywhere as home in years. Every place, every shack, every town was simply further from home. We passed Murwilliumbah sometimes in our journeys and I saw it on maps. It was always home. Life with mum and David was home.
And now life had begun to settle down. Moves from here on would be relatively small. Redcliffe to Caboolture might be a fair hike, but it's a daytrip there and back for a kid on transport. I could still see friends. (Maybe worth noting that I still live within moving distance of these people and run into someone now and then)
So we're at the start of high school. The big move was to Deception Bay, I'm not sure why, I think an uncle was given a job out there. Odds are it was at some kind of RSl or Football club, it often was. He was that kind of cook. (not a chef I'm sure. Paul was a chef). So in some surreal and strange move we up and moved again.
Mum thought this would be good for us, the new high school was opening up next year. So we would be amongst the first students to attend. A permanent place in history... Or something to this effect. In actuality it meant we spent the first few months of the year getting organised, waiting for the gym to be built, breaking in all sorts of things. Including the illicit locker black market.
You see (and I hope this is no longer true) The school purchased lockers that were never intended for a broad community. You know the kind with the small silver keys that seem to be in every office. Well you see, these keys for simplicity reasons come in only a few varieties. This is so companies can easily replace them. Unfortunately...... if you are buying lockers for a school of 300 odd students. This means every person with a locker (all of us) has the same key as 15 other people. And they are numbered. So you do a painstaking, but simple visual check of every locker....... and find the ones that match your key number. As you could guess, we abandoned the lockers quickly.
Year 8 was the first time I ever saw explosives in use. We had a police officer come out to the school and demonstrate some things for safety reasons, including why even a detonator was dangerous to play with. We had all seen movies, bombs were big. That little pencil shaped thing in his hand was of no consequence.
He placed it in a coke can, and then into a cardboard box and walked off into the oval. It was led back to us by a cable and we waited. CLICK and we hear a muffled *BOOM* and dust flies everywhere. We were then advised to go and follow the cable and retrieve it.
No box, no can........ So no explosives for us.
What are other stand out moments...... During this year i had a crush on Amanda. She was beautiful and sweet and I gave her a rose and a poem on Valentine's day. She loved it, and tucked the rose into her skirt. I was ecstatic, my day couldn't have gotten better.
Until I overheard she had told her friend I was sweet and a good friend to have. (later to be a recurrung theme) And I asked her for the rose back. It was not meant to suggest friendship. So I shot it all down in flames. There's early teen logic for you. Can't have it all, so nothing.
This year was also my first major creative outlet. I broke free of the shell I had been in for years and lived it up. My best friend was Gavin and we were dorks. There was no question about it, and we did everything together.
Including our english assignment. It could be an oral presented in any format you liked. And had to be about quitting smoking. Ours involved the use of two Agro puppets. Ironically named Cig and Arette.
It landed us an A and had a classroom full of kids in stitches for over 10 minutes. This single entity taught me how much people value feeling good. It can disarm a situation and put people at rest. My love of comedy and providing entertainment would continue to grow...
This was also the first time I met someone from where I used to be. Not literally, just the same place on the economic ladder. His name was Ben. Ben was tall, gangly, and incredibly rich. Ben was also incredibly well looked after. Father missing from I don't know what. (Divorce? War?) And a mother who doted on him. Ben used to write more than the rest of us in his homework Diary. And we didn't know why. So one day, to end all speculation, we asked him. His mum packed his bags. So anything he needed done, he wrote in the book.
The rest of us would know if we needed a specific text book or not for the day, and would organise it as such when packing. Ben just wrote it down. He even wrote what he wanted for lunch, which strangely he never got. He always had roast lamb sandwiches on Mondays and Tuesdays (his mum was a tradituionalist and always cooked a roast on Sundays) and he gave the sandwiches to me. I have always been a big fan of roast sandwiches. So this worked well for me, Mum wasn't big into packing lunches at this time.
Two major higlights remain in my head. We made a video for a Sony film competition. Unfortunately Gavin never submitted our entry in time, so our million dollar prize never came. It was fun though and we got to take a few afternoons off class
The second........ And this is another big life moment. The trip to Canberra.
Lets deviate to my cousin. We're about the same age, we looked alike (skinny blonde kids) and we grew up fairly close together. So as young kids, we were the same kid. In fact I had two cousins like this.
But as we grew older we grew apart. We were just different people now. And it showed. So there was a girl, Rhiannon who lived in our street> We all hung out together and I called her chicken legs. Obviously we were very close. but secretly I liked her. As much as a young boy could.
My cousin was more direct, more up front, so she spent time with him... until one day, my uncle. The erroneous, show up every few years and bring gifts uncle announces he is taking her home. I'm asking why, she lives two doors down remember.
Seems not. She actually lives with her father in Canberra and has just been on holiday for 6 months with her Mum here. Or she was moving to live with her dad. It's a friday afternoon and he says it's almost a day to get there. He will drive down, drop her off and drive back.
I got asked if i wanted to go for company on the way back so my Uncle didn't get bored and lonely.
Mum was fine with it, so I jumped at the chance. I grabbed a quick bag of clothes, and jumped in the car with Rhiannon and my uncle.
The trip down was incredible. It had been over a year since I'd been on a LONG road trip and I was excited to pass towns and sights I knew. Additionaly, both kids sat in the back and we kept talking. By the time we were 4 hours away from Brisbane, we were holding hands across the car and as we fell asleep that night we were leaning on each other.
I remember being woken up at "Driver Reviver" stops along the highway and getting out for a stretch. Kids were always popular outside these small towns with Volunteers, so more than once we were given a bag of Kit Kats instead of just one. So a hot chocolate and bag of chocolate to keep us going on the road.
Our uneventful trip (except for young romance) continued on until the outskirts of Canberra. We knew it was close and had been counting down signs and kilometres for the last few hours. And then the car started to flash lights. Things did not look good. My uncle said we would need to push on (what logic drove this I don't know).
More lights came on... and the car stopped with a godawful screeching noise. We had run out of oil. Somehow it had leaked and parts of the car had simply refused to move without it. The engine was destroyed. There was no way to recover it.
Rhiannon's father came with a tow truck 3 hours later and we headed into Canberra itself.
We stayed here for a week, I'll write this up in the next post.
Sleeping on a floor, a desperate hand touch whenever we had the chance.... At this moment, I had returned to being only a guest.
This was to be the last of the big moves. We were living in Victoria at this point. In a mobile home. We had been here not long ago to visit my uncle and his young bride. And now suddenly we were living here. the mobile home was our home.
I remember now the day we arrived here. To see my uncle. It had been months since i'd seen him. Months since he had arrived given us a watch and a backpack between us and then departed again. He was sitting on the chair when we arrived. It wasn't "a" chair. it was definitely "the chair" and he was playing nintendo. Super mario bros 2 I remember. Watching princess peach pull the vegetables out of the ground and throw them at evil koopas.
He also had a bird on his shoulder, a pink galah aptly named Apollo. You may realise this was not the first bird to be named Apollo. it seemed to be a family tradition.
So we meet him once again and his wife and we see the nintendo, the light gun, the sega and an awful carrot cake. I was made to try some against my better wishes and it was a poor decision. I'm sure that cake was a punishment for something.
And that's all of that meeting I recall.
We lived here for a few months before returning to Queensland. We even had a xmas. My sister and I both received a VHS copy of TMNT, and 2 of the turtles each. So between us a full set. I know i had Leonardo and Michelangelo, only because I remember which ones my sister had. I also had splinter and she received shredder. These videotapes stood out because they were green. The TMNT phemonenon was in full swing. I also received a remote control truck that xmas. It was reduced to clear for being faulty, but Paul fixed it. So I now had a very expensive remote control 4x4 truck. And could finally impress other kids with something I owned rather than knew.
The trip to Queensland came out of nowhere again, I don't recall it at all. I do remember visiting my Aunt again and then suddenly we were living with them. A few key points stand out here before i started school.
I'm talking about pain. Internal, emotional pain, and physical pain.
let's clarify something I was hoping I wouldn't have to say.
Paul. as many great stories as we have. The memories of playing in the pool, making monster movies, fake FBI badges, Zuchini dragons and ski-ing prawns, he was a monster.
There are so many other untold stories of nights drinking, empty bottles of beer and Ouzo. Screaming and shouting, fighting, punching, hair pulling, crying, falling, pain.
The things shown in movies, the horrors of drunken abusive families. And I could do nothing. I was small weak, unable to defend my mother from being hurt.
This was pain, real pain of both kinds. Burning striking pain of being knocked down for nothing more than going to bed. When told to.
And the emotional searing pain of being mocked, tormented and teased.
He was an alcoholic, a violent man, and possibly a sociopath. It was not a good time in life. But like many people we stayed. There was seemingly no other choice, and it's not to be dwelled on. I am not defined by these awful memories. I am strengthened by them.
My courage, my desire to love, to look after those around me grew from those moments.
He was not a man. He was an adult, and he should have been ashamed of it all. But he wasn't, he was probably unaware he had done anything wrong. And for that I should hate him. I should despise all he stood for and the fact that he existed. But I don't.
I don't give him thought. He does not deserve it.
Earlier in life, you've heard about us leaving David. My mother's husband. The man I though was my father. This was not easy. I hated him. I was angry. My father left me. I knew he wasn't, but I thought he was, and he wasn't around anymore. Did he miss me? Did he know I wasn't there.
At this point I didn't think about my real father, not a thought. He was gone for now, never to return.
A few more years later, My little sister left us to go and live with her father. David. And things were never the same again. I was forgotten. Lost and alone.
Isolated from my family for my intelligence, my father had left me, my new father hurt us. We moved so often I had no friends, my sister made my life miserable.
But I smiled. I was alive.
At a young age, little things mattered, life was full of plans and hopes. I would become something and someone. I would not be these people. I would not repeat the mistakes of the father.
I didn't want to be superman at this point. I wanted to be a man. But I was only a guest.
There are many smaller incidental memories that carry on from here until the next major chapter of my life.
let's visit a few of them before we arrive back in Queensland. This was the end of Primary School. The start of High School. Scary times ahead and the playing field would change.
Memories.....lonely ones. I'm not lonely, theyt just sit by themselves for the moment. Maybe the rest of the life that surrounds them will be found later.
The monster is entirely unrelated to the pink death. But it did take place at the house.
I don't recall where exactly but we got our hands on a video camera.
It was small and portable and for a family without much it was an incredible prize. At first we bought some tapes and filmed us. Saying hi, waving at the camera. Everyone loves seeing themselves on tv, especially when you haven't been seen before.
A mirror is only instant, immediate.
To be able to see yourself move while you're in a different pose is why we watch ourselves on camera. It's the little voyeur inside. Watch myself, see what I do. Oh my is that how people see me. Wow, my hair sticks up at the back. I walk funny.
And then a master production was born.
It would be filmed entirely in one afternoon and I was to play 2 different parts. A Navy Commander with great authority and a lone Ninja who would fight evil. Filming went off without a hitch.
I walked onto camera in white pants and shirt, huge army boots on and a Navy hat. I spouted some entirely forgettable line and for an as yet unknown reason I kicked the door in on the cubbyhouse. Well that was the half baked plan. In actual effect my foot slowly, very slowly prised itself from the mud taking a large chunk with it. It hit the door with a wet thud and the mud instantly bonded. Next thing saw little Kal falling backwards into the mud and the camera making a sudden pan left.
Next scene is where the eventual title came from. I don't know why (the plot wasn't well planned) but I was to play a poor;y dubbed ninja and rescue my sister from the tank. She had fallen in the water for some reason. The scene went without a hitch until Paul emerged from the tank with welders goggles on and a pink rubber glove stretched over his head. Imagine a surreal cross between a tattoo-ed rooster and riddick.
Paul burst forth from the water complely unexpectedly, pushing me out of the way and diving onto my sisters foot. As he wrapped his mouth around her foot, he spat out the mouth full of tomato sauce he'd been hiding.
It was simultaneously terrifying and hilarious. It looked brilliant on film, and we never could have acted as effectively as we were thrown into shock.
The brilliant masterpiece was christened "Tank Monster" and we even re-filmed some of the earlier scenes to make it clear that defeat of the tank monster was our ultimate goal.
The tape was unfortunately lost in the great land cruiser migration several years later.
One of the other major highlights of life in Victoria was our video shop.
My uncle made friends with a Doctor, who for some reason or another loaned our family the money to open a video shop. Now this was a big deal. There were no videoshops in the entire of Robinvale at this time.
Many takeaway shops had a small selection of movies available for hire, and these were rotated once every 6 weeks or so. Ours was to be a whole store devoted to movies. And this was before computers were really feasible, in fact the PC wasn't even in existence in my world. Computers lived in movies.
We made a trip to Melbourne to buy stock. We didn't even plan in advance, just walked into some video wholesaler and Paul said we need some videos and you're going to help us find them. The man was a little short, and then Paul showed him a cheque for $32,000 and said we needed to spend it.
Things changed. People were brought to help us, we pushed trolleys around the store and filled them up. I purchased all the kids movies and helped pick the action ones. And they had stickers for us. We decided on a simple pricing structure. $4 overnight for new movies, and $2 a week after that. Really old movies were $1 a week.
This was a revolution at the time, Video shops in Bowen and other towns we'd been in charged $8 to $12 for a new release.
We wanted them to be for everyone.
Loaded down with movies in our broken transit van. We headed home. Over the next few weeks, cards were printed, cheap home-made shelves were painted and the shop was leased.
Everything seemed to be sailing smoothly until the day before we opened.
An angry greek woman came banging on the shop door. Her name was Toula and she ran the fish and chip shop around the corner. We couldn't open this store. Not allowed.
This was all the information we could get, my mother tried to talk to her and got some more information regarding her sister (who ran the shop next door). By an unexplained twist of fate, Toula's sister was english. And blonde.
She explained that Toula and her had a deal with the landlord, they couldnt sell the same things.
This prevented any price cuts and fighting.
Our Video store would have broken the agreement. Except we werent in it. It was only between Toula and her sister. So the big opening went ahead.
Customers would come in and show their license to get a video card. We would write their details in a book, along with the number on their card And the movies were written in another book. ( Each movie had a numbered sticker and we kept them out the back. The empty cases were easier to store and less likely to be stolen)
The primary downside seemed to be the manual paper method of writing the movies down and the locals lack of willingness to return them. The average movie stayed out for 4 days. And occasionally one would stay out for months. Each person you asked for the film would claim it had been lent to a cousin or a brother. Which meant half the town saw it for $4.
The two movies I recall in the video store above all others were ”The Lady in White” and Bill Murray in “Scrooged” I waited 4 weeks for scrooged to arrive. And when it did, I watched it twice before I let it go to any of the customers who had it booked.
In the end the store closed down, this was after we had moved to
The next piece of desert life is a little more close to home. Not that the rest has been specifically vague ;)
We still lived in
Life on the farm was good, and mum and Paul saved money so I could go on year 7 camp. The end of school and the start of another. Actually it would have been year 6 camp. High School starts earlier in
So, the big trip to
It was an amazing 7 days and I spent half of my allotted $40 on the first day buying a film for my camera. I didn’t imagine anything like this happening again, and wanted to remember it always.
We stayed in a scout camp in the hills outside
The next big event on the trip was the Adelaide Grand Prix. We got to and walk around the track and even saw a real ferrari. Then they brought out the "stunt" car for the year. It was a backhoe with an enormous engine that shot flames out the side. We watched it play for 15 minutes and then we were given the chequered flag to keep. A long drive back to the scout camp followed.
The highlight of my trip though was Cassie. She was a girl from Queensland so we had something in common and spent most of the week yelling ridiculous things like “Everyone from Queensland run!” and rushing off ahead. I held her hand several times, including for the whole hour drive back from an observatory and finally on the last day I asked if she’d be my girlfriend. Unfortunately no. She wasn’t interested in me like that. It was the excitement of the trip, I understood didn’t
At the time I didn’t. I was heartbroken.
Neither she nor I was from here.
Our stay wouldn’t be permanent. I was only a guest.
The most obvious is my survival of the cyclone. Maybe it was a severe tropical storm? I'm not 100% sure. I am not a meteoreologist. I can spell it however. If that's any consolation.
After that storm, there was a lot of cleaning up to do. Mud and leaves and rubbish and general mess. It didnt reduce my love of storms, it did however make me a little more thoughtful of the side effects when you see one come through.
Our lives in Hervey Bay didn't continue there for very much longer. We moved on again quickly. Now I'm itching to tell some further stories, but they arent til much later in the tale, so I'll abate for a moment and move on to Victoria. As started in the Desert post.
In Victoria we lived in several places, Most notably they were Merbein, Mildura and Robinvale.
(I'll try and link you to these locations when they come up. Think Desert.)
Robinvale was where we arrived in Victoria, and it was to pick grape's for the Gareffa's. Nice people. Their son Donny took me riding on his 4 wheeler. And I had a young crush on Carmel the daughter. Donny was my age (approx 10) and Carmel was a yr younger. Crushes were a strange thing at that age. It's all about emulation. You have no idea what you would do with a girlfriend, but your parents and movies are all about having a partner so you want one. Even if you don't know why.
I never ever told Carmel I had a crush on her. In fact I don't think we spoke more than a few times. Girls and boys led very seperate lives. This was the 80's and the world was a different place.
We lived in free accomodation (I'm sure it was free) provided by the farm. It was a small shack. For lack of a better word. No more than 30 feet long and 15 feet wide. It consisted of a bathroom with a shower, a bedroom and one other room. This room contained our lounge/dining and kitchen. Not a complicated life, but noisy when the wind blew as it came through holes in the walls. Did I mention corrugated iron? No insulation, no interior. Just one layer of iron. I never realised until this shack that we insulated our walls. Never bothered to notice our houses werent all white on the outside, or all brick on the inside.
So, here we are in our little iron house. Wind whistling through the walls. Occasionaly some rain.
Stand out moments from living here.
We all know what the big occasion was days ago. So let's all pretend we didn't see it and continue on with our journey.
A bit of a jump ahead, and at the same time a slide all the way back.
We're going to Hervey Bay. Home of whale watching, Vic Hislop and one of the Mcpherson sisters. The sweet one. Well technically I wouldn't know. It's only Mimi I've spoken to. Both in Hervey Bay as a child and years later I handled a complaint she made to a company I was working for. She was very polite for a complainant.
So we find ourselves in the bay. It was a family drive from Bundaberg to visit my Aunt and Uncle. Actually it may not have been from Bundaberg, I think we were coming from Mundubbera. It was at least a day on the road, which eliminates Bundaberg.......Then again we did so much driving in those years it's hard to keep one trip seperate from another.
The drive was only about a visit, come see my relatives, play with my cousins and go home in a few days.
We arrived just before lunch and Uncle Mick (not really my uncle and not a nice person) took us all for a walk along the Jetty at Urangan. It was always referred to as the mile long Jetty. But I don't think it was a mile by the time I got to see it. We walked along, smelling the sea air, which was a beautiful smell I enjoy to this day. Seeing fisherman bringing in a catch.
It seems every second person had a bin with them, lots of them had water. Little fish swimming in the bucket. Bait it seems.
| Learning with Kal |
| When fishing, bait is important, and the bait used will play a major part in what you catch, if anything. Not surprisingly, many fish like to eat other fish. Small fish therefore make an excellent bait. And to keep things simple, the universe made them not very smart. So by using only a herring jig (read piece of line covered in little hooks) you can catch many of them quite quickly. All you do is lower it into the water and shake it up and down, this "jigs" the line and attracts the little herrings. They eat the hooks, get stuck and you reel them in. They can then be used for bait for other fish or to be sold........ as umm bait |
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