Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Growing Up (it wasn’t hard – well not all the time only most of it) - Updated (2/3/06)

Growing Up (it wasn’t hard – well not all the time only most of it) – Updated (2/3/06)

When you are a scrawny little person, growing is generally not that hard. The only way was up and out. For the other part, yes I was a boy who spent a lot of time with his hand on it. Show me one who doesn’t and I will show you an eunuch.

As a boy/youth I spent my time around Kelmscott/Armadale/Roleystone. Life was simple. Went to primary school at Kelmscott Primary and then Highschool at Armadale – Kelmscott did not yet have a highschool.

Learned to play soccer here (really). Met a coach called Colin Walsh he took me under his wing. Someone recognized some talent within this little kid and nutured it. He also acted as a bit of a mentor. Remember him as a tradesman who ended up running a fish and chip shop in Armadale. God knows what happened to him and his wife but I remember them and that means something – I am sure.

Met some kids. Some of their names I remember (D Bell, Gary/Neil Baverstock, Paul Winchup, John Claffey, John Blakely, David Lague and some other Roleystone boys) but many I don’t. God knows what has happened to them.

Met some girls growing up. Again some I remember, most I don’t because I pretty much went through youth with my eyes closed to girls. I was my own best friend.

Remember having a couple of friendships in Primary School but nothing of a serious nature (Odette Hickson/Nixon – smart as). Another girl – can’t remember her name – lived not far from Odette, had horses which were to provide one of the memorable kid events. Horse riding – steep slope – river. Horse charges away down steep slope and hits brakes, boy – yes you guessed it - goes over the handle bars and ends up in river. Horse was memorable – just stood there and smiled (I’m sure) before walking back to his yard and digging into the feed trough. First, and only horse ride.

Soccer provided me with perhaps my first opportunity to be successful. Although I was little I was fit, dogged and it seems I could play. I made some under age state teams – U14, U15 and U 16’s and got the opportunity to travel to Tasmania, South Australia and Tasmania respectively. Was never the “best” player in the team but was always one of the first picked (mr reliable and mr flexible – play anywhere kind of guy). As with all successful sporting kids you have to have patient, supportive parents. Soccer at that time was a winter sport and my parents (including my mum who never ever saw me play a game) spent endless hours driving me to training and games (thank you).

At school I did enough (or not as the case maybe). I was smart but not studious. As it turns out I did not get enough marks in my leaving to get into the course I wanted to at Uni (Physical Education/Human Movement). As I recall it sport and finally girls got in the way. While I did not achieve great academic results I learnt a lot. I was a reader and this has stood me in good stead throughout my life. I later became known as “the professor” because of this kind of attribute.

Last half of your leaving year is perhaps not the best time to recognise that boys actually should like girls (it’s only natural – well for most people anyway) provided they are not your sister.

There were some girls I really ended up being truly fond of but never went all the way with. Two in particular stick in my mind. My first real love was a beautiful girl called Julie M – came from Mundijong. As is always the case beautiful girls in school typically have an ugly friend for protection (forgive me) but who knows that women may simply have been an ugly duckling (but I don’t think so).

For a long time we were soul mates but I remember the night we decided that we were to remain friends and never to become lovers (idiot). It was at a party – the party was held by a girl named Carol J – and we sat in my car and talked for what seemed hours. It never happened – who knows what might have occurred if I had gone through that door. Julie ended up with a local drop kick (my opinion) and had multiple children from memory. I hope life has been good to her. From memory, I took home one of my pissed loser mates who threw up in the back of my car (idiot). Smelt terrible the next day when he had to clean it up.

Another beautiful girl in my life at that time was called Christine M. She is the only girl I nearly ever fought over. Again this friendship came to nothing sexually (except frustration for me and maybe her). I also had a good relationship with her mother (Helen) and father (Eddy I think) who was an architect/designer. Christine got involved with a WAFL footballer from memory. Again I hope life has been good to her. PS – the guy that nearly got smashed was Jimmy C.

I took Christine to the school ball, but I could only sit on the sidelines and watch – hurt my back playing school yard football. Now that is a story in itself. The deputy headmistress at the school was one big mama with a reputation to match. However, she drove a Datson sports car – you know the type where your bum drags on the ground. Truly, this woman needed a hoist to get in and out of it. On the day I hurt my back so did I as she took me to hospital in it.

Finally, the girl who was my first lover (other than myself) and the reason I lost my focus on year 12 was another very attractive girl with a protective mother (and a missing, policeman father). Her name was Alysson R and we were both virgins. Our first experience was like that I suspect of many others – over too quick, unprotected and not the stuff dreams are made of. But I remember it – it was in the afternoon, at her house. Did I say it was unprotected (yes protection was not big then really – late 1970s) and was that going to turn out to be one big mistake (nearly). She was three weeks late with her period. That was the worst three weeks of my life. I can still remember standing on her front verge the day it finally came – boy was I relieved. The relationship petered out and she rebounded into another blokes arms (irony was he lived at the bottom of my street) and became another local baby making machine.

While I was finishing school I graduated to senior level soccer – another reason for poor academic results. This time the catalyst was a wily Scotsman called Bobby McShane bless him. He encouraged me and one of my mates (John B) to try out at one of the State League team – East Fremantle Tricolore. We were both just 17 and we had to drive to Fremantle for training.

My career was nearly over before it began. Rocked up to pre-season training. Some good players most of them older than us. In those days soccer had a summer night series. The coach at the time – Graham Oughton – was a past player. We both trained hard through the pre-season but getting near to the first game of the night series he comes up to me and gives me the old coach lecture. Went something like this – kid you have trained hard but you are never going to make it in this league. Obviously a good judge of character - not. To be fair to him he says you are welcome to go and try out somewhere else. My response – not unnatural in retrospect as one who generally has not ever shirked a challenge – was how about you let me stay and keep training. Turns out I made the night series team and I then never looked back. Many “better” players than me dropped by the wayside. Lesson in life – Italians/greeks generally have no bottle when the going gets tough they hide or bugger of.

Over the period that all of the above occurred I also learnt to drive. Remember the friends of Dad and Mum (doesn’t it sound odd to say it this way) who met us in Fremantle? Well they had a farm. From when I was about 10-16 I often vacationed there and learnt to drive cars, motorbikes, trucks and tractors – all useful stuff for later life.

Because I failed school I needed to work out a new direction. I took counsel from my parents – my mother in particular – and sat the Government Employment entrance exams. Passed and got a job (in hindsight this is one of my life regrets - i never really had a life without cares or traveled). In between times I worked as a courier for a printing company.

For the record i did pretty much everything we tell you (kids) not to do:
  • pinched cigarettes (i only smoked about 1 pack in my whole life but i used to use them to curry favour with my "mates")
  • stole the loose change that was lying around
  • got caught with my hand on it

Only thing i did not do and never have is take drugs (any sort except medicines).

Work was about to open up the next phase of my life.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Trip to Australia - ten pound tourist

10 pound tourists on a Greek Ship (Ellenis). Again don’t really remember much. Trip took about 3 weeks via Canary Islands, South Africa – Cape Town and then Fremantle, Australia. We arrived in late 1969 from memory.

I remember the Canary Islands because it was warm and I remember high rise buildings being built with Bamboo Scaffolding – boy those guys were brave (and no one had heard of Worksafe).

I remember Cape Town because of Table Top mountain and an old lady getting her bag ripped off in the main street and because we had to stay there for four days because 5 tugs could not pull the ship off the wharf due to strong southerly winds.

I remember the trip to Fremantle because it was very rough, especially out of Cape Town, and we were not allowed to go up on deck. The only other thing that really sticks in my mind was a fancy dress party on the boat where mum dressed me up as an elf (national elf – the English equivalent of medicare). I hate fancy dress – I am not sure if this had anything to do with it. Mum and dad made friends with people on the boat and some of these remained friends for life in Australia.

I remember arriving in Fremantle, at the Port, to be met by the parents of a man dad had worked with in the UK who owned a farm in a place called Cunderdin (about 200km from Perth) in the wheatbelt. Thinking about it now it was a major trip for them to come to meet us – they will certainly feature in later chapters of this story. I also remember dad’s brother, Ray, and wife, Pauline, meeting us. We all piled into a ute (light truck) and driving to Coogee (a place near Fremantle) to a caravan park.

On our arrival in Australia we were housed in Graylands Hostel – I don’t remember this - but we left after 2-3 days and moved into a crappy weatherboard house in Rossmoyne – Central Ave. Again don’t remember much about this house, but do remember dad blowing himself across the laundry plugging in an old copper. Plug disintegrated and he flew (like I did in the bathroom) across the room and there was one hell of a bang. Only other memory of this time was burning feet crossing a road in middle of summer. Black tar was melting the ground was so hot.

Mum and dad both got jobs and as soon as they could they moved to a new house in a new suburb which was being developed – Kelmscott. In early 1970s this was like moving to the edge of the earth. My early recollections of this place are driving into a town that had a train station, library – with a hairdresser next to it with the traditional hairdresser pole, a pub – all good towns had one, a service station and a foodland – small food shop. There probably was more there but I don’t really remember it. Essentially, the road went through it going to somewhere else. As it turns out it still does – in fact this place is now almost bypassed going to elsewhere.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

The Coming - he is not the Messiah he is just a naughty little boy

This baby was born 17/2/1959 to proud parents Sam and Helen Lewis following a difficult birth (pain in the ass from the off some might say) in a place called Billericay in Essex in the UK. Reports are that this kid took three days from start to finish arriving. Apparently the father was not present – in those days it was not encouraged – and besides transport was more difficult as the family did not have a car. Soccer may also have played a factor contributing to the father missing the last bus.

The baby was named Jeffrey. A quick google search suggests that life should have proceeded smoothly around this child - The boy's name Jeffrey is pronounced JEF-ree. It is of Old German origin. Probably refers to "peace."

However, if you dig deeper it is possible that there was likely to be more to life for this child than met the eye. This can be seen from recent posts to a website which enables people to comment on people of the same name. If we can accept that trends can exist through time then there is a suggestion that life for a child with this name would not always be that smooth.

Name translation for Jeff

Name: melissa posted on 13/06/2005
really ugly<< so true

Name: Ciara posted on 23/11/2005
Jeff is a lying cheating dirtbag who deserves to have his balls kicked into his stomach... wait... he doesnt have any!!

Name: Sarah posted on 19/12/2005
I have an ex named Jeff; he really was a lying, cheating dirt bag and he was really ugly

http://www.nametranslation.co.uk/names/meaning/showdetails.asp?mid=82

None of the above relate to me (at least i dont think so) but you get my drift.

Also, you need to read Billy Connolly to understand the importance of names with the EE sound on the end of them – try it out loud. I usually get called Jeff unless I am in trouble and that is where the EE sound comes in handy. It can be used over very long distances with great effect.

My recollection of my own childhood is quite limited but there were a few highlights/lowlights that I do remember.

I was a sickly kid really – suffering from Asthma and as a result I was always on the small side. I lived from birth until about 9 years of age in England in a town called Basildon. I went to school there until I was about eight/nine. I am not sure why but almost all of my childhood memories are generally based on health/injury or of “bad things”.

I have strong memories of traveling on the bus with my mum to London to visit hospital for tests and of sharing Vesta curry from a pack when we got home. The other enduring memory of these trips was spending time doing puzzles. It is possible this that lead me to develop a capacity for solving problems.

I remember going to hospital for some minor surgery on my penis and of spending time (3 weeks) in hospital with my head held still by sandbags after getting hit in the eye by a stone (which I was not supposed to be throwing). It appears that I was lucky to keep my eye. However, my sight in my left eye was permanently and quite severely damaged (less than 20% vision and then only peripherally). This has undoubtedly contributed to me being a bit one-eyed on many things throughout life.

Other things I remember are nearly getting hung by my sisters (and unknown girl friends) when I tried to run through the rope they had tied to a pole and were using for skipping. My recollection of this event were that the rope was pulled tight when I attempted to run through it, I remember looping through the air as my feet vanished from under me and crashing to the ground. My neck bore the rope burn mark from ear to ear for a week or two.

Yes I did have a sister – her name is Nicola and she has generally been known as Nicky all of her life. She has the EE sound as well you will note. She was born several years after me and she was and remains a mummy’s girl (much to her credit). She gave my mum the love she undoubtedly did not/does not always get from me.

My recollections of our life together as kids are also fairly limited – she was a girl and all little boys have strong negative feeling for all little girls and especially their sisters. We used to share baths together because we had to. It was during one of these baths that an incident occurred which lead to one of the only times I can ever remember my dad laying a hand on me. We had had our bath and been arguing and I had tried to get out of the bathroom. In doing this I pulled the door back and promptly pealed the nail on one of her big toes back so it was standing up at 90 degreed to her toe – not a pretty sight. She started to squeal as only girls can and dad appears like a nano-second later. He bursts into the bathroom takes one look at her and whacks me – my recollection is that I sailed across the bathroom and ended up on the floor between the bath and the toilet crumpled in a heap.

One of the good memories I have around my sister is being a super hero for her after she dropped a rug out of the landing window onto the porch which was over the front door. I climb out of the window to retrieve said blanket, but being a small and weakly kind of superhero I could not haul my small arse back into the house. Picture superhero stood 8-9 feet off ground with no where to go but down. What does he do – uses blanket for cape and jumps (pretty heroic really) and crashes onto ground just as mother comes out of front door. Crumples into a heap with two very bruised but fortunately not broken ankles. Superhero lives to fight another day – what an idiot.

Generally, as kids we were free to play on the streets late into the night (1000pm) on summer nights and I remember playing soccer on the street with other boys from around the area. I also remember playing soccer on weekends – my dad obviously got me into this as a boy. We often played on waterlogged muddy pitches with leather balls which when wet would fit to your face when you went to head them (if you were brave enough) often leaving the lace mark on your head.

I remember exploring with mates and falling out of an apple tree into a thorn bush – result scratched from head to foot, except where the shorts and tee-shirt provided some limited protection. I also once fell through ice on a lake I remember it was a struggle to get myself out of the water.

While my memories are based on “momentous” events in the life of a kid my recollection is that I had a good childhood. My mum and dad provided well for us. There was always food on the table and clothes on our back (mum was an excellent seamstress and knitter). I don’t remember there being too many arguments and I don’t recall too much punishment. I don’t remember much about school, except it was not far from where we lived and it was near the sweet shop. I don’t remember if I did any good but I do remember having the misfortune of crapping my pants one day in year one – how embarrassing – not sure why. I also remember making the school soccer team (I must have been ok).

We had holidays, traveling to Cornwall where one of my aunties lived and went to the beach. It was on one of these holidays dad took me fishing in a row boat with a couple of other people. We got about 500m off the beach and dropped lines into the water. Next thing I remember is dad telling me to get my line in the boat. I did not really understand why until a big dark shape came alongside the boat (it was sticking out either end of the boat). England is not a place you typically relate with sharks but here we were sitting in a small boat next to a very large shark. The next scenes were probably quite funny if you weren’t in the boat. Adult starts rowing back to shore shouting shark and promptly rows the boat about three strokes up the beach – I didn’t even get my feet wet climbing out of the boat. Turns out the shark was a Basking Shark which only eats plankton. But as dad told the guy in the tackle shop the next day it had a mouth big enough to take your arm off.

Generally I remember being a relatively good kid but others may choose to differ. I am sure my childhood has shaped my adulthood and I know that my mum and dad played a significant role in this. I don’t remember anyone else during this phase of my life having any significant impact. I had grandparents but we did not see them often.

My life was to change for ever when my parents made a decision to migrate to Australia. They sold everything and we all got on a boat and moved to Australia.

I will revisit this post, if and when I recall other events worthy of note.

thinking about writing a book - here is the start

After reading "forty, fat and fired" i am thinking about writing a book - i think i could make a few people laugh and leave a legacy for any grandchildren that might come along. Doing this blog thing has shown me that i could write a serial (chapter at a time here). here is my initial thinking:
  • Title - LifeofJeff
  • childhood - what i can remember - it all seems so long ago (but when you write books you can always make it up cant u)
  • youth
  • achievements/struggles
  • relationships - ups and downs (yeh i have had a few)
  • sex life (what that u say - yeh i have had one of those to)
  • family (ies) and fatherhood
  • people/things that have influenced my life
  • kids
  • career/work
  • thoughts on things which have made me the person i am

Just think all of you guys can star in the book - wont it be great??