Southerly: The Burglar Files
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I ask, in the interest of historical accuracy, if there was actually a light at the intersection of Parrs Cross and West Coast Roads in 1986? Because now it's a rather fetching roundabout.
Back in '81 or so, my parents semi-frequently bought fruit-n-veg at Nola's on the corner (still there). I'm reasonably sure it was a round-about even back then.... and if it wasnt, it was a plain T intersection... definitely never been any lights there.
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David, you write splendidly, and even at 16 were displaying a considerable literary talent. I know many of the haunts you write about in the story, having lived for a time in an especially shitty part of Glen Eden (mind you, in the early ‘80s there were no un-shitty parts). And the Westward Ho was one hell of a rough pub.
Thankfully we were never robbed by the likes of a Hog or Shitter, because we had nothing worth stealing.
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Holy Christ - what secondary school did you go to - Borstal?!?!
Kelston Boys, wasn't it? I must say, as a transplant from the much-loathed North Shore, I find the Westside generally a lot less horrifying than it is in David's pieces! That school really did a number on you, man...
Back in '81 or so, my parents semi-frequently bought fruit-n-veg at Nola's on the corner (still there)
Wow, Nola's is nearly as old as me! (And has the dubious distinction of being the first place I walked to after having a caesarean. I needed celery.)
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Great little short story, David.
My wife & I moved into a street just a bit along from Osman St in 1986 and no-one told me the area was so undesirable. We rented there for 6 months before buying a cheapo in Ranui - out of the frying pan & all that...
You probably changed the intersection when you remembered that the intesection of Gt Nth Rd and Glenview Rd would have been too busy for them to hit the bike & not get slammed for it. By Waikumete Cemetary there it wouldn't have gone unnoticed.
And back in 1980 I was visiting the area & got on the turps with my father's wife's son and his mate, Snottered in the Westward Ho, we were down to our last couple of bucks when we won a meat-pack raffle which we sold for the price of another 5 or 6 jugs. At the time I never realised how I was dicing with death with the hard men and thugs. Mind you, I had survived some rough pubs and areas in the UK so I wasn't exactly piscatorial in a non-aquatic environment.
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Scott Swank wrote:
I can only say that I am embarrassed that you know who Jim Gibbon is. I would that no one outside of Nevada knew his name, much less outside the states.
Are you kidding? Jim Gibbons is world famous in New Zealand. We have a small political party called ACT who venerate Jim as the ultimate example of a responsible and ethically irreproachable politician.
I'm pretty ecumenical -- though after 5 years in Nevada I'd prefer you avoid the Mormons
Oh, but they have such excellent underwear!
Are there more of this series in the works?
I might post an essay I wrote (just for my own entertainment) about the night I spent in Hawera on the thirtieth anniversary of Ronald Hugh Morrieson's death.
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ScottY wrote:
I know many of the haunts you write about in the story, having lived for a time in an especially shitty part of Glen Eden (mind you, in the early ‘80s there were no un-shitty parts). And the Westward Ho was one hell of a rough pub.
I should mention that my only experience of the Westward Ho as a sixteen-year-old was waiting in the car while my friend Carl (who looked older than his age) went inside to buy beer. He almost always managed it, by the way. At sixteen I looked about fourteen (at University that year people kept asking me if I was looking for my mother), so even the Westward Ho would probably have refused to serve me.
Danielle wrote:
Kelston Boys, wasn't it?
Yeah, my friend Carl (again) put it very well when he said that it took him four years to recover for each year that he spent at the school. In other words, a total recovery time of sixteen years. Still, it did wonders for our appreciation of rugby.
Stewart wrote:
You probably changed the intersection when you remembered that the intesection of Gt Nth Rd and Glenview Rd would have been too busy for them to hit the bike & not get slammed for it. By Waikumete Cemetary there it wouldn't have gone unnoticed.
Excellent detective work there, Stewart! Having reacquainted myself with the local geography (via Google maps), I'm almost certain that you're right. In my day, Parrs Cross Road was very quiet and rural with apple orchards on both sides of the road. From the satellite map it looks like it's quite changed now.
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