There’s a park just down the road from where we live that The Boy and I sometimes go. Sometimes we walk, with his little hand in mine and sometimes he takes his scooter – belting along at a rate of knots.
Last Saturday was a perfect Melbourne spring day, not too hot, maybe some rain in the air.
We get to the park and The Boy says;
“Just sit on that seat Dad and don’t move unless I tell you.”
So I sat on the seat and watched him race over to the climbing bars. There were a couple of other kids his age, watched over by dads with faces that suggested they’d seen a bit too much of life than was good for them. The kids all played happily together in that mysterious confederation that all small boys seem to understand while I watched.
Some young men and women, probably in their twenties, kicked a footy around while another group playing with a Frisbee.
After about an hour we walked home for dinner.
If I was a pompous nuffie like – say – Helen Razer or Clem Bastow*, I’d work something in like “and then I realised how truly lucky I was” or “and I then realised we’re all the same underneath” or some other sick-inducing homily of the style the Age seems so fond of these days.
But I’m not, so I won’t.
*Or if I was Catherine Deveny, I could slip in “and then I realised, God’s a cunt”.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
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11 comments:
God is a cunt.
But you dear Ramon, what a lovely story.
Thanks for your restraint.
If you were Ben Lee you would sing
I'm made of atoms
You're made of atoms
And we're all in this together
until we stoned you to death with coke bottles
A just and fair death Squib.
I often think to myself "I may be an ageing, depressive alcoholic spin-doctor with a hairline slowly retreating from Moscow but at least I'm not Ben Lee".
As long as you say things like "and then I realised, with a straight edged razor I could kill them all in 5 minutes 23 seconds flat" or "and then I realised, I really really needed my wife to start pegging me.", then any other foible can be forgiven.
But I’m not, so I won’t.
Ah, but you did Ramon. And it was nice.
Why is it we have times when we know our kids (and wives) ruined our lives, and other times where we love them so much it makes our hearts ache?
The eternal human condition, it's a beautiful thing.
And speaking of family bliss, I wonder how Perseus is fairing?
He's probably thinking
"I. Am. So. Fucking. Bored".
"that mysterious confederation that all small boys seem to understand" That is a beautiful piece of writing.
Thanks gingatao.
Glad you liked it.
Deveney might also deliver condemnation of the rich for being rich, the working class for being bogans, men for being masculine and woman for being feminine.
Dev does seem to have her cranky-pants on, Dr G.
She also seems to be wearing the cranky-undies and cranky-sensible shoes.
Dev does seem to have her cranky-pants on, Dr G.
Maybe she's on her rags.
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