Posts by David Slack
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When I was seven years old I went to stay with my Auckland cousins who had rented a house in Orewa for the Christmas holidays. It was sunny all day long, the sky was an unbroken blue and it stayed that way for about fifty weeks. I’m quite certain about this. One day my uncle declared that we could walk down to the dairy and buy ourselves a special treat. It was something I had not encountered before called 'Coca Cola'. My older cousins were excited, so I was too. My cousin bought the bottles and handed them out, and we set off home.
Because I am un-co, it was probably always going to end in disaster. I stepped off the kerb, clutching my bottle of Coke, and tripped into the road. The bottle broke into a dozen sharp pieces and went through my arm just above the wrist. I wouldn’t have thought that my pasty freckled skin could be any more pale on the inside, but by God it was. And there was a lot of it to see. Whole inches of exposed white flesh, not unlike a pierced chicken breast, and talk about blood, Trev.
As we were sitting in the surgery watching the 25 stitches go in, the Doctor told me I was a lucky little boy because it had just missed the tendon. I had not heard of a tendon before. My uncle cheerfully said “we’re having curry for dinner, do you like curry?’ I had not heard of curry before, and I was losing my appetite for novelty by then.
The real miracle, though, is that I came off various motorbikes and never got more than a skinning. Kept leaving the sidestand down. That corner of Salamanca Road and Kelburn Parade is an especially humiliating one at which to can out.
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An axe that's been embiggened?
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Yamis, if the picture was coloured in a little more, would it look less perturbing?
Deborah, I was chastened to discover that I was in fact involved in the purchase of one of the gifts and had entirely forgotten. There was a PS2 with Singstar up for auction at the Hustle for Russell...This, of course, will be a bad influence and has been counterbalanced by many good books. But no Junior Engineering set.
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Anne and the others who wished her a happy birthday: MM was chuffed, and thanks you very much for your kind wishes.
I/S: she thinks "there should be a law that tells grownups they can't smack kids."
Also, Lynley came up with the name: it was the Junior Engineering Set.
My younger brothers had one and it is still going strong. My kids all loved it and it lived at Gran's house until she died in 2004.
The brother who loved it the most as a child has it at his place now.
Oh, it's all coming back. What made the set so good was that it included a little battery-powered motor with a spindle that you could rig up to a wheel or a propellor, or a great flying arm. Brilliant.
Lynley and I concurred - if it's not on the market, they really should relaunch it.
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Che, you'd have to take out the flag.
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Would it be rude to ask what her opinion of the law is?
She's never been smacked, and she believes you should never smack kids. I'm not sure that she's formulated a clear position on what role the State might take in that : ) I can see what she has to say, if you like.
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Which totally shows your age
I make no secret of mine. Andrew remains looking youthful because of his full head of hair. Bastard. Bet he had no pylons outside his house.
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According to Bomber Bradbury, it's all KiwiFM's fault!
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It is indeed that John Campbell. The timing's no problem apparently. He often gets his show presented by a double. I think it's the same guy who used to sub for Winston Churchill.
Don't know the significance of the asterisks, Span, sorry. Just some Flying Nun idiosyncracy perhaps. Also, the provenance of Rod's ball is unclear. Quoting from Gina's email:
Soccer Ball Signed by Rod Stewart
Donated by: Sean Coleman
A soccer ball signed by Glenfield’s favourite ex-father-in-law Rod Stewart.
Value: Priceless -
@David Slack: could you double check you signed up with the same email address on Gravatar as you did here? Yours appears to still not be working...
speeches@gmail.com,
speeches@gmail.comI'd log in to verify this (again) but I'm getting:
503 Service Temporarily Unavailable