That last post got a big response, so here’s some more. Again, I’ll try to put these in chronological order…
This has to be one of the earliest photos taken of me. It’s still in PNG, which means I was only weeks old. My head looks strange and deformed, and frankly I don’t like looking at me here. Mum’s in a great mood though, and Bernard seems excited by something he’s seen out of frame. Given the location, it was probably a cannibal or a dinosaur. I think the native women are using one of those ye olde washing machines in the bakckground.
Here we are in Germany now, sitting with Oma, Dad’s mum. This is 1972, Bernard was 1 and I was 0. During the trip last year we sat for a meal at this very table, so this photo is particularly nostalgic for me now. As usual, Bernard’s smile is eye-to-eye! I wonder what we had just eaten? Probably beer and sausages, knowing the Germans!
An interesting photo, which seems to suggest I may have been less than honest when I claimed our only toys were scissors and cups the other day. And yet I can’t actually recall either of these two vehicles. Bernard’s is manly and robust and he rides one-handed it like a warrior. Mine is spindly and effeminate and I ‘ride’ it like I need to go to the loo! I wonder if these were ours or belonged to someone else, and if they were ours what happened to them?
An ‘action shot’ of me during a family trip to the Warrumbungles in the mid 1970s. This is testing the limits of my memory here, since looking at these photos ancient memories are stirred. We stayed in those cabins (actually converted trams) you can see in the background, and did a lot of walking and exploring the nearby area. I think there was also a massive thunder storm one night, and this may have even been the trip when a goanna got into our cabin? In the photo I’m using a remarkably sophisticated bucket to fill our inflatable pool, despite said pool being immediately adjacent to the tap! I loved the water in those days, and would wallow happily for hours in the sun.
I believe the above was during the same trip, and is one of the best photos from my childhood years. Yes mum, B and I are featured, and we look snazzy and happy. But look at that awesome dinosaur! Here is where it all started, and the road I started walking that fateful day would eventually lead to results like this. I did some research to try and found out where exactly this was taken and whether it still exists, but came up empty.
I think we’re wearing our ‘Sunday best’ here, which raises the question of how we looked the remainder of the week. Bernard’s shirt beggars belief, and he looks distinctly uncomfortable as he tries to hide the candy bar he’s holding. I’m standing there defiantly wearing my press-button short sleeved checkered shirt tucked into elastic velvet brown pants and trying not to appear cold on a winters day. As I more effectively hide my candy behind my back, my face suggests I knew that years later my clothing would appear absurd, but I didn’t care anyway. Note how shiny our bowl-cut hairstyles are, the result of Johnson & Johnson Baby Shampoo, which we used during our formative years. I think this was taken in Gregson Park, possible after a post-Nan trip to that awesome lolly shop that used to be on Beaumont Street.
Moving from the ridiculous to the sublime here, and fast-forwarding about 10 years as well. It’s 1987 here, and we (aged 16 and 15) are holding cats at least half as old as us. Bernard, in his dramatic grey-blue ensemble, cradles Boris, who was aloof and mysterious and shy. The edges of her ears show evidence of the cancer that would eventually take her from us, but she lived a long and happy life. I, sporting a white rolled-up-sleeve white shirt and knit tie, am wielding Louis, seen again many years after the shot from the other day. The dirt on his paws gives away his tenure as an outdoor cat, but ‘Soccerball’ was a friendly beast, and would come when called. I recall I used to name the cats, except for Louis who we got when I was very young. The names were slightly unusual (Boris, Sarah, Nelson, Momus) but never catlike. They all had particular origins as well. Maybe one day I’ll blog that.
Incidentally we dressed to look our very best for this photo (and other in the series, which I have blogged before). In 1987, these were the best clothes we had!
As for the hairstyles, what can be said? Looking back now it’s hard to imagine I wasn’t influenced by Grace Jones in Conan The Destroyer, but at the same time it’s terrifying to think I may have been. In truth I had an outrageous hair stylist named Ford Lamonte (this is true) who suggested crazy styles to me, to which I almost always said ‘Yes’. This was one of them, and would be followed shortly by the blonde hair and then the weird front rat-tail. Bernard hair is less spectacular, but you’ll note the prominent curl. He’ll probably deny it if you ask him, but that wasn’t by accident, and he spent hours every day carefully arranging it so he would look as much like Christopher Reeve’s Superman as possible 😉
My high school graduation. The fanciest I have ever dressed. I recall I found it quite uncomfortable, but looking back now it doesn’t look half bad. In this getup I had to (ballroom) dance and give a speech (which I did off the cuff with minimal preparation). Immediately afterwards a few friends and me – still dressed in our fancy togs – went on an all-night road trip from the Newcastle beaches to the upper Hunter and back again. We broke on through to the other side, and ended up chatting with grizzled drunken sailors in a seedy hunter street pub at sunrise. That was a good night.
I wish I had more – many more! – photos from those years, but sadly do not. I can only wonder what sorts of events-long-forgotten would be revealed had we taken a camera with us.
