Living in Sydney, From Day One

Having moved to Sydney when I was 17, I feel as though I've watched the city "Grow Up" as  indeed I've grown.  Don't mistake me; I'm still about the same size,  perhaps a little wider. What I mean is Sydney, and I have matured, like a fine red wine.  Ever tried a bottle of Penfolds Grange Hermitage?  Those who have know what I mean.

When I first arrived with my family from the United States, I really didn't know what to expect.  All the material you can find about a city doesn't quite impart the true "flavour" of places and the people you find there.  Information is much better now; you can look at this piece of writing on the web for instance, and perhaps learn at least a little of what you need to know to get by.  Looking back now I realise just how long ago that arrival was. 

Qantas hadn't taken delivery of its first 747 Jumbo; they have a bucket full now.  The Opera house you see in the photo was still surrounded by cranes and scaffolding, they've gone now.  Nixon was President of the United States.  The Beatles were breaking up.  Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin were still alive.  Time always seems to have gone by quickly when you look back on it, except for those particularly awkward moments we seen to relive over and over. You know the ones, like when you asked a lady, “When are you due?” only to be told....well let’s leave it there, too embarrassing even after all those years.

On landing we were met by friends of my parents who loaded our not inconsiderable amount of luggage into two cars, off we went on our new adventure. Sydney seemed to have an oversupply of corner pubs, one for every, i.e. corner. Knowing the drinking age was 18, only a year away, I was most impressed. Still maintaining my image of word traveller by remaining blasé regarding sights my siblings were asking numerous questions about, I nudged my sister into asking why there was so much broken glass on the roads. Apparently laminated glass had not made it to very many car windshields yet.  Our driver, my dad’s friend, blamed the road system, too narrow, not enough traffic lights, and few bypasses of busy places like shopping areas. If I were to land in Sydney for the first time now, I wouldn’t see any difference between American road systems in cities the same size and Sydney today.  The traditional Aussie pub has all but given way to trendy up-market drinking holes.  You have to fight your way to the bar through a crowd of Sex and the City types.  Sydney grew up quickly, it had to, the 2000 Olympics were only 30 years away.

In 1970 Sydney had 2.7 million people, in 2009 3.8 million, a 37% increase. I can assure you I tried to do my fair share to build the population, and I do apologise for my lack of success. In spite of my sex repulsion, the city grew in scale as well as population.  The “Greater” Sydney area is about 60 kilometres east west and 120 north south. That’s a lot of red roofs.  From day one I loved it, perhaps because it was all new to me.  I was just the right age to enjoy the adventure, and also the right age to adapt to the differences I would encounter.  Besides, I had those "New guy in school" advantages to look forward to.  Lock up your daughters, oh well; there was no need for that after all.

My wife's calling me to bed, I'm sure it's not for the reason I might hope.  You see, I still haven't got "IT".

Photo Courtesy Linh Rom                                      Return to Main Page.

                      

It's a sad tale...

It’s a sad tale, but one that needs telling. The story is of love, one creature for another, a match that nature perhaps had not in mind when blending the essence of mutual attractions. You see, Homo sapiens and Mephitis-mephitis are not naturally destined to dwell together. The unfortunate prejudice we sometimes see against this inter species co-habitation is not based on any grounds other that favouritism. We seldom see stares and whispers when a man walks his canine, or a Felis catus is spotted lounging in the window of a suburban home. These were obstacles the subjects of this story had to overcome in forming their, albeit it short, lifelong friendship.  Coy, a man of no small means, had a reputation for, shall we say the unusual.

Some might even say he leaned a little toward the eccentric side of life. No one could find fault in his actions; response would be limited to something akin to say, two raised eyebrows, as in a look of wonder. Certainly not the one eyebrow raised the other lowered look, accompanied by the sideways stare, implying the thought “what’s he up to now?” Coy was his own man and that’s how it would be.

No one’s sure how the first meeting took place, some say it was the result of an unfortunate automobile accident, others that a chance meeting with a stranger led to an introduction. Let’s just leave that day as one ordained by destiny. Petunia, as the family came to know her had all the natural talents her kind are endowed with, curiosity, excellent eyesight, an attractive though not colourful appearance and of course the ability to usually get her own way.  To Coy there was no question as to whether or not they were meant to be friends.

It would not take much imagination to hear the words that greeted Coy when he arrived home that fateful day with Petunia, “GET THAT DAMN SKUNK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Now you mustn’t think Francis, Coy’s wife was intolerant, although Petunia must have thought so, she was just uninformed. It was like the time Coy purchased a boat. Now this was Coy, so it was not just a boat. It was a speed boat, inboard V8 engine, twin axle trailer with chrome wheels, and a beautiful, highly polished genuine mahogany hull and deck. In fact it was so beautiful that Coy bought two of them, they looked grand cursing the Tennessee river side by side. Francis got used to that, so it was that she would also get used to Petunia. It didn’t seem to take any time at all before Petunia would follow Coy around the house, asking to be picked up and scratched, sometimes sleeping by his feet as he watched his colour TV, the first in that town. Coy would even take Petunia in the truck with him occasionally.

Coy didn’t have an entirely blessed life, he had had to work hard to build his business, he studied hard to get his pilot’s license, and he and Francis had lost a house to fire. From what was heard around town he was blessed in that Petunia had never had to demonstrate her abilities in the olfactory field. Coy and Francis had two sons; the older, had recently married and was living next door to Coy’s place.  He and his wife were in Coy’s kitchen making popcorn one afternoon. The young wife had locked Petunia in the bathroom since she didn’t particularly have fondness for our friends of the furry persuasion. This had happened before and Petunia didn’t like it.  Disregarding the noise of scratching and tiny claws racing around the bathroom floor, the popcorn proceeded to schedule. There was only one interruption, for some reason the son and his wife decided to leave the house for a time, this led to the double tragedy that afternoon.

On returning to the house the couple discovered to their horror that fire had pretty well destroyed the place. After the firemen had extinguished the flames they discovered poor Petunia. She had perished from smoke inhalation in the bathroom. Coy, having experienced house fire before, was more devastated by Petunias death than the damage to his house, we can all understand that and I’m sure we agree, it really is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all .

Perhaps one day Pepe Le Pew will find his true love, in the meantime let him pursue his unrequited desire for Penelope the cat as much as he wants.

Petunia: RIP 1964

JAWhite, 2009                                                                       Return To Main Page