my bank account later, my grandson had a new pair of football boots. He proudly wore them to the trails and afterwards discarded them soon after returning home with a no care attitude.
I don’t know if he appreciated my reason for purchasing the boots. I don’t think he did.
You see in our day we didn’t have gracious grandparents who splashed out on their grandchildren. My family weren’t poor, however, it was the custom of the day to wear no shirt, no shoes, and have no worries. No one cared how you dressed. Everyone was the same.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I had a time machine, like the one Rod Taylor had in the film of the same name, to go back in time and show my grandson how we survived? I would show him when I was his age, I never owned a pair of shoes.
To escape from today opulence and take our grandchildren to a time when we were their age would certainly be a lesson of not wanting everything instantly. Would it make a difference? I doubt it somehow.
Everywhere we went, except days at school, often even at school, we went barefoot; wore no shirt, and definitely had no worries. We were kids after all living our dream in a country town.
Word count: 428
Boomerang
Charley Drake recorded a song entitled ‘my boomerang won’t come back’ when I was aged twelve years old. This tune repeated over and over in my mind. I can share with you the exact place I first heard this song. It was when I was walking along Graceville Avenue, Graceville an outer western Brisbane suburb.
It’s a catchy tune describes the plight of a young aboriginal, the chief’s son, trying to learn to throw his boomerang and it wouldn’t come back. He threw the thing all over the place, practised until he was black in the face but his boomerang didn’t come back. The family witch doctor was bought in to teach him how to throw the boomerang.
Doing what the witch doctor told him to do; he drew back the boomerang, steady, and threw it into the air hitting the flying doctor plane. ‘I think I hit the flying doctor’ were the last words of the song and he asked the witch doctor, ‘do you know first-aid’.
At the time I thought the song was very catchy and funny. A search of the internet produced a u-tune of the song and after listening to it again after more than a half-a-century I still think the song and lyrics remain funny and catchy.
A boomerang is made from wood. Modern boomerangs are made for sport and often have carbon fibre-reinforced plastics, not like the original ones made by ancient aboriginal peoples.
They were mainly used as hunting weapons. The name boomerang referred to returning throwing stick. The oldest Australian boomerang is ten thousand years old, so they’ve been around for a long time.
There is a question I want to ask before I complete this story: ‘What do you call a boomerang that won’t come back?’ Answer: ‘A stick.’
Word count: 303
Be Yourself – If You Dare
Growing up in the 50’s without television, telephone, computers, or any of today’s modern appliances, were tough? Probably we didn’t think so at the time because there was nothing to compare with today’s modern society.
In today’s society there is nothing one doesn’t want nor can achieve if they put their mind to it. In my day and age growing up; my both parents worked to keep the roof over our heads.
School vacations were spent with an aunt or grandparents. These times weren’t happy times because at each opportunity my self-esteem was battered by being constantly called ‘an idiot’, blamed for anything which went wrong. I felt worthless and unwanted. It was difficult to make a decision in case trouble loomed. Discipline in those days was handed out by all authorities, including parents, relatives, school teachers, priests, or any other person in authority. If a police officer spoke to us we thought we were going directly to jail. What changed in our society over fifty years?
With television, computers and modern electronic devices many things have changed. Times have definitely changed, in my opinion, not for the better. Saturday nights were spent playing cards with family and friends. I can still see my grandmother standing on the top stairs of her kitchen, the words indelibled in my mind, ‘children should be seen and not heard’.
These words echo each time I think of her and wonder what she would think of the modern era. If my memory serves me correct, I was almost thirty-five years of age before I actually recognized I wasn’t ‘an idiot’. Up until this age, I often analysed how I’d survived with marriage, raising a family and employment.
Than started a journey by writing a few words for an assignment at college. This turning point changed my life forever. I was told I had a gift for writing – I wrote the way I spoke – which was unique.
At the time, I remember the words my lecturer said as if it was yesterday. I didn’t totally understand his words at first. Actually to tell you the truth I felt like an alien who’d recently arrived from another planet.
I took the bull by the horns to develop my skills and believe in myself to become a writer.
To banish the old saying from my mind, I started to tell myself, I could write if I wanted to. I wasn’t an ‘idiot’. By continually doing this I needed to be myself and take the dare to succeed.
The rest is history. I wonder what my ancestors would say if they could see me now. I suppose they’d admit if they didn’t do what they did at the time I wouldn’t be where I am today.
Word count: 466
If Ever There Was A Reason To
Do you believe in fate? I believe everything in our lives happens for a particular reason. We have no control of why it happens when it does; also we don’t have any control over the outcome. It has happened too often to put it down as coincidence.
I look from my office window and see a burgundy coloured Toyota Corolla Hatch-back Sedan. This motor vehicle belongs to me. I’ll share with you the story of how this motor vehicle came to be mine.
In January this year I owned a Magna Sedan. Over the time I owned this vehicle; it was regularly serviced and kept in good working order. There were times I wanted to trade it in to get a smaller vehicle however, the time was never right nor did the thought of letting it go concerned me. I loved driving it. It was comfortable.
Obviously you’ve heard or personally experienced events happening in your life in threes. My experience began when the television saw its final days; closely followed by the computer and almost instantly, the motor vehicle.
When the television went to the grave, I purchased a new television from Aldi store at a cost of a third less than I’d purchased my previous television from a well known distributor. Almost without allowing the television to settle in, next went the computer.
Unfortunately like many people I can’t live without a television or a computer. On the day I had the computer repaired I was returning home when my Magna was involved in a road accident in which I wasn’t to blame.
After the insurance agent assessed it, the vehicle was written off. Eventually a settlement figure was agreed upon by both parties. Where would I find another vehicle, crossed my mind. At the time I hadn’t any idea of which type of vehicle I wanted only it should be in a price range I received from the insurance company.
Was this an act of fate, or was it meant to happen?
Before I completely lost the Magna, I needed to recover the registration number plates including the registration sticker to cancel the registration. The Magna by this time was placed in its final resting place at the local wrecking yard.
If ever there was a reason to go to that particular wrecking yard on that particular day, at that particular time; it was meant to happen. Before driving into the entrance to the wrecking yard a burgundy coloured Toyota Corolla Hatch-back Sedan was parked on the footpath showing a ‘For Sale’ sign.
‘This is the car I was looking for. It’ll do me.’ I thought. Without blinking an eyelid I purchased the vehicle and my life is again in equilibrium once more.
Word count: 466
Take A Ghoul Like Me
Detective
Bundy Quicksilver is at his wits ends when another female body was discovered in the park. How could this happen? He thought when he stood over the naked body. Her heart was missing.
This was the second body in two days. Who would be next? His mind filtered through his database of weirdos he’d come across throughout previous investigations. This was the first type which plucked the heart from the body.
Was it a type of witchcraft he was dealing with? There appeared to be no other evidence to connect any other person to the crime scene, no open wounds, only the missing heart of each deceased person.
Detective Superintendent Kate Emerson appeared beside him, ‘hi there, I’m Detective Kate Emerson, from the federal police.’ She showed Bundy her badge.
Bundy acknowledged her with a shake of the hand and a similar ‘hi’ and asked why she was attached to the investigation. Her response being this was the tenth death of a young girl and all similar, removal of the heart. Obviously all could be connected, she informed Bundy.
It had turned into a federal case in which the murders happened across Australia in each state and territory. Why these murders had been committed throughout Australia, Bundy wondered.
Detective Superintendent Emerson was a good looking female and immediately took a shine to Bundy. He felt uncomfortable to be followed by his latest partner. Something told him to be aware of his new partner, he didn’t know what it was, only an