Think 1965. Melbourne. JFK is long dead. LBJ is it. Ranting. Born in the USA. Yes Bruce. But that's 20 years away. 1984. Orwell too.
The Beatles have been and gone. So have the Stones. Judy Garland is in rehab. I hope. My cadetship at Price Waterhouse is bearing fruit. Some good. Some not so good. Some fake. I'm dating Lyn M. Our new offi…
Think 1965. Melbourne. JFK is long dead. LBJ is it. Ranting. Born in the USA. Yes Bruce. But that's 20 years away. 1984. Orwell too.
The Beatles have been and gone. So have the Stones. Judy Garland is in rehab. I hope. My cadetship at Price Waterhouse is bearing fruit. Some good. Some not so good. Some fake. I'm dating Lyn M. Our new office girl Friday. For me she turned out to be Monday through Sunday. For six months. She's 17, nearly 18. I've just turned 20. They want me in Vietnam. To be shot at. Killed maybe. I'm not enthused.
My first exposure to "coercive control". Conscription. Sexist too. No women allowed. Bugger. No dates in Da Nang? My birthdate turns out to be a good one. I lost the lottery. Secular I am. But thanking God I am too. Gotta hedge your bets I say. Existentialism in excelsis. Caveat.
The age gap - Lyn and I - some would think is a mere 2 years and 2 months. The 2 months turned out to be critical. Never gave it a thought. Lyn is slim, trim, sexy and as it turns out slippery as sin as well. And has rabbits as next of kin. I'm growing certain about this.The back seat is her bed of choice. Talk is truncated. Philosophy of Mind. A Cartesian cut out. Descartes not discarded. Cancelled ab initio.
Yet troublesome it is. She's a tad too vacant between the ears. I'm ready to move on. Turns out she's not. The phone call from her father comes to my lodgings with my wonderful Jewish family. I left home at 16. Get him here or I'll call the coppers. George the Dad threatens. Geezus she's preggers. What ? Manny (Emmanuel) my urbane new surrogate dad full to the brainy brim of phronesis is short and to the point.
If George says are you gonna marry her say "NO" - no ifs buts or maybe. Right says I.
I head off down to Seaford in his Morris Minor with my mate Dennis by my side. He's a 'copper'. Newly minted Police force member. Coals to Newcastle. Seemed like a good idea at the time. It was. Sort of. The moment came as Manny had mused.
Lyn over there. Mum to the side. George close. Well he bellows "are you going to marry her ?" NO says I - way too fast. Premeditated in spades. Lyn shrieks. I look the wrong way. The 'king hit' comes. The nose bleed more than spectacular. I escape to Dennis waiting outside.
Mate we're outta here. I splutter. Mother calls come back. Mike. And talk. With a fist. I don't think so. Six months pass. Lyn calls me. She wants to meet. We do. She's sort of sorry. Hot baths she says did it. Flushed the foetus. But the truth is plain as day.
She was never pregnant. Why tell her parents before me ? Another lesson learned.
While, without choice , "you may have a 'dick' between your legs it's best if there's not one between your ears"
Think 1965. Melbourne. JFK is long dead. LBJ is it. Ranting. Born in the USA. Yes Bruce. But that's 20 years away. 1984. Orwell too.
The Beatles have been and gone. So have the Stones. Judy Garland is in rehab. I hope. My cadetship at Price Waterhouse is bearing fruit. Some good. Some not so good. Some fake. I'm dating Lyn M. Our new office girl Friday. For me she turned out to be Monday through Sunday. For six months. She's 17, nearly 18. I've just turned 20. They want me in Vietnam. To be shot at. Killed maybe. I'm not enthused.
My first exposure to "coercive control". Conscription. Sexist too. No women allowed. Bugger. No dates in Da Nang? My birthdate turns out to be a good one. I lost the lottery. Secular I am. But thanking God I am too. Gotta hedge your bets I say. Existentialism in excelsis. Caveat.
The age gap - Lyn and I - some would think is a mere 2 years and 2 months. The 2 months turned out to be critical. Never gave it a thought. Lyn is slim, trim, sexy and as it turns out slippery as sin as well. And has rabbits as next of kin. I'm growing certain about this.The back seat is her bed of choice. Talk is truncated. Philosophy of Mind. A Cartesian cut out. Descartes not discarded. Cancelled ab initio.
Yet troublesome it is. She's a tad too vacant between the ears. I'm ready to move on. Turns out she's not. The phone call from her father comes to my lodgings with my wonderful Jewish family. I left home at 16. Get him here or I'll call the coppers. George the Dad threatens. Geezus she's preggers. What ? Manny (Emmanuel) my urbane new surrogate dad full to the brainy brim of phronesis is short and to the point.
If George says are you gonna marry her say "NO" - no ifs buts or maybe. Right says I.
I head off down to Seaford in his Morris Minor with my mate Dennis by my side. He's a 'copper'. Newly minted Police force member. Coals to Newcastle. Seemed like a good idea at the time. It was. Sort of. The moment came as Manny had mused.
Lyn over there. Mum to the side. George close. Well he bellows "are you going to marry her ?" NO says I - way too fast. Premeditated in spades. Lyn shrieks. I look the wrong way. The 'king hit' comes. The nose bleed more than spectacular. I escape to Dennis waiting outside.
Mate we're outta here. I splutter. Mother calls come back. Mike. And talk. With a fist. I don't think so. Six months pass. Lyn calls me. She wants to meet. We do. She's sort of sorry. Hot baths she says did it. Flushed the foetus. But the truth is plain as day.
She was never pregnant. Why tell her parents before me ? Another lesson learned.
While, without choice , "you may have a 'dick' between your legs it's best if there's not one between your ears"
Aphorisms aplenty. Now I'm closing in on 80.