Snippets of my life: Why bother ?

Recollections ? Why bother ?  Answer: the desire to speak to my children, my grandchildren and anyone else about the inherently unique experience of life.  

I have enjoyed writing and recording snippets of my live and the lives of others since I was about 10.  My grandmother, Edith Pardy was my first subject.  Although my mother was formal and stilted in her mother's presence, she was immensely proud of Gran's many acheivements such as founding member of the Liberal Party of Australia, creator and main organiser of the Victorian Mental Health Auxiliaries.  I was left in Gran's care much more often than my brothers, and Mum encouraged me to ask her about her acheivements and life experiences.  Gran would take me to mental health facilities such as the Kew Asylum not soley as an observor but as an attraction and distraction for the inmates who would call out or rush forward to touch this scared 10 year old. Gran was gentle and mischevious, but could also assume the voice of command if things got out of hand.  As she warmed to my questions, I knew that I would not remember her answers accurately, so I used my treasured cassette recorder to make tapes of her story.  

Soon, my grandfather was vying for attention, and I made recordings, photographs and notes of his stilted account of the Prussian section of his ancestry which he considered the most prestigious.

Thus commenced, at 11 years of age, a life long sporadic hobby of recording family history information.  As the family history records expanded, I realised that the personal anecdotal recollections were the true gems in a sea of births, death and marraiges.  These gems were hard to extract and often depreciated by their authors, but they provided the flavour and colour that brought the past alive.

It is such snippets that I am attempting to bring together here.

I have not attempted an autobiography.  Apart from being much more work, I see autobiographies as creating a false sense that life is a coherence story.  My experience is of life is episodic and random -dominated by luck (for me and my family, overwhelming good luck).  I feel my life is not following any story arc.

I did keep a diary for a number of years from 1969 (Age 15) but it's use became sporadic and stopped in 1978 (Age 24).  The purpose of this closely guarded secret document was to tell the story completely from my perspective to myself in the future. As me in the present, I have occassionally sampled it (especially when dealing with my own adoescent children) and found it and embarrassing but sometimes enlightening read. 

So I choose to let loose a random collection of snippets chosen for their ability to spontaneously pop into my head. I hope that they survive long enough to bring an insight or just a smile on a family member or a stranger.



My parents believed strongly in the power of reading to support learning and thus education and thus success in life.  My mother told me that I fell in love with picture books well before I could speak, and learnt to read easily and quickly.  I can't remember.  My implicit memories of infancy and childhood are foundational but subconscious.  

My memory allows full sequential replay for a few days back.  Go back a few weeks and the snippets are frequent but the continuity is gone. The surviving memories - images, sounds, and sometimes smells - become gradually fewer and fewer the further back I journey. 

The memory "film" of my first 5 years has faded to white, with only a few seemingly random images remaining.  Perhaps they are significant. Perhaps they are merely memorable.  Nevertheless these explicit memories are precious to me because of a universal measure of value - rarity.      

I was as scared as "Little Black Sambo", as fierce tigers demanded clothes and other belongings. The tigers defeated themselved by their infighting and ended up as butter on pancakes ! 
This book was later issued as a vynl recording that Dad brought home from work at the World Record Club and included memorable songs to accompany the action. 
In this millenium, most parents would probably be afraid to be caught exposing their children to the streotypes used in the text and illustrations (while happily and subliminally replacing them with whatever were the currently acceptable stereotypes). 
  

I probably met "John and Betty" in grade 1 (age 6, 1960 at Bennettswood State School).  I can feel my sense of excitement and awe as I took my seat in grade 1.  Mr Wigney's class was arranged in rows from grade 1 to 6 to mimic a rural school so that he could train teachers.  Soon, I moved one desk forward in recognition of my acheivements.  The next year I moved sideways to Grade 2.  Later, I read of Mr. Wigney as a renowned and remarkable teacher which confirmed my memories.

During grade 2-6 (age 7-11 1961-1965), I began reading more and more independently and insatiably: Madeleine series (Bemelmans);  The Water Babies (Kingsley); The Borrowers (Norton); Charlotte's web (White); The Famous Five series (Blyton); The Chronicles of Narnia Series (Lewis); The Cossacks and "Save the Khan" (Bartos-Hoppner) etc etc etc.  

These titles are just some that spring immediately to mind, and each still evokes its particular excitement and desire to revisit - already with my children - and hopefully with my grandchildren.

Once I had mastered code of written language, the rewards were immense.  I had a ticket of entry into a seemingly limitless array of virtual worlds.  After being told to "go to bed" (from 1961 I had my own room), I would resume the adventure and read until I fell asleep.  The bed has been my preferred reading location all my life.  In recent decades, the text is usually displayed on my iPhone rather than on a paper page - and, as I get older, sleep interferes more quickly !

My wife, Lib, and I recognised the importance of encouraging and assisting our children to be skilled readers who love to read.  Unlike the learning of spoken language, there are no natural genetic structures to help the child, making parents so crucial.  We are delighted that our children made the most of this immense but intangible gift, and are passing on the same culteral advantage to our grandchildren.



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