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Thread: Where do you come from?

  1. #21
    Uber Star Soi wanderer Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน OZZYGUY's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Arliss Michaels View Post
    Would his name be Steve by any chance��

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    Maybe....55

    Was with a "Steve" on new years eve, man that guy has a very sexy young GF. Not that often I say that about a western girl.

  2. #22
    ประเทศไทยเพื่อน Founding Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Arliss Michaels's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by OZZYGUY View Post
    Maybe....55

    Was with a "Steve" on new years eve, man that guy has a very sexy young GF. Not that often I say that about a western girl.
    Maybe Steve 55 if one and the same I crossed paths with many years ago when his company RP was flying. Had the skimpy market in sleepy ol Perth covered, had some "pie in the sky" ideas like this

    "is best known for the Mt Hawthorn establishment Slic Chix in the 1990s.
    Diners at the restaurant were able to eat their dessert from the bodies of nude waitresses."

    Also it was mooted to do a Porno on a luxury boat off Rottnest, and was looking for investors. One of the perks of investing was you could "come on" set and watch. Don't think it got off the ground we declined to get involved, would not have been good for business if it had got out we had put $$ into such a thing 😑, though we did provide some finance for a building in Beaufort Steet that had lots of Bathrooms 🙄

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  3. #23
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    RP had over 400 girls working in its hay day.

    Off track I guess but I also know the girl that inherited the "Dolls house" when her father died. They use to do that dessert deal too.


    Quote Originally Posted by Arliss Michaels View Post
    Maybe Steve 55 if one and the same I crossed paths with many years ago when his company RP was flying. Had the skimpy market in sleepy ol Perth covered, had some "pie in the sky" ideas like this

    "is best known for the Mt Hawthorn establishment Slic Chix in the 1990s.
    Diners at the restaurant were able to eat their dessert from the bodies of nude waitresses."

    Also it was mooted to do a Porno on a luxury boat off Rottnest, and was looking for investors. One of the perks of investing was you could "come on" set and watch. Don't think it got off the ground we declined to get involved, would not have been good for business if it had got out we had put $$ into such a thing ��, though we did provide some finance for a building in Beaufort Steet that had lots of Bathrooms ��

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  4. #24
    Foundation Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Minder's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Arliss Michaels View Post
    ........would not have been good for business if it had got out we had put $$ into such a thing 😑, though we did provide some finance for a building in Beaufort Street that had lots of Bathrooms 🙄

    .....
    Small world .... I could probably hit that place in Beaufort St with a rock from where I am typing this .... after working around St Kilda in Melbourne it was hard to believe that this area was Perth's red light district ....

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  5. #25
    Uber Star Soi wanderer Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Dupree's Avatar
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    I just girl in bar. Buy me one dink?....

  6. #26
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    ^ nice one. the desert scenes look like sydneys kurnell sand hills,not far from the airport.
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  7. #27
    Foundation Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Minder's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Moo Uaon View Post
    ^ nice one. the desert scenes look like sydneys kurnell sand hills,not far from the airport.
    Mr Google says "The exterior shots for the music video were filmed at the Cronulla sand dunes in Sydney."

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_Under_(song)
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  8. #28
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    Quote Originally Posted by Minder View Post
    Mr Google says "The exterior shots for the music video were filmed at the Cronulla sand dunes in Sydney."

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_Under_(song)
    that's it. cronulla is next door,kurnell oil refinery on the same little peninsular on the southern side of botany bay.
    the dunes were popular for bike riding and hang gliding but have gone now as the sand was used for making concrete during sydneys building boom.
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  9. #29
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    Early Days
    My parents were born in Toronto, Ontario, and both grew up there in the same neighborhood. My father's father was Scottish from Aberdeen, and my grandfather on my mother's side was from the Isle of Guernsey in the British Isles. Father was born in 1908 and mother in 1914. They grew up just after the First World War and lived through the Great Depression of 1929. It had a direct bearing on their lives and eventually our whole families lives. The austere Scottish history is something explaining my background. I've got an ivory and silver snuff box that was passed down from father to eldest son since 1637. My son will get it when I die.

    My mother’s father was well off butcher and owned a big shop in Toronto, but lost a lot of his wealth during the depression, and he wasn’t wise enough to move the location of his shop that specialized in pork, when that community became mostly Jewish. He was also a paedophile and molested my mother when she was 12 or 13, but more on that later. I didn't find that out until I a few years before my mother died. It explained a lot about why she acted like she did.

    My father's father was a highly respected architect, but was too proud to take a “menial” job during the depression, and I think he just sat around and moped. Instead of going to university like he wanted to, my father went to sea as a merchant marine for 4 years to help with the family finances.

    My father’s age kept him out of the Second World War because he was married and a bit too old to be enlisted. My mother's younger brother joined the tank core and got gassed somewhere in Italy. He survived with a bunch of medals, but the gassing affected his health in later years and he died at 62.

    My mother's older brother, Jack, was my father's best friend when they were young men, and my mother had a teenage crush on my father from an early age. Father was a local sports hero. He wasn't big (5ft 10in and 160 pounds) but he was all muscle. I've got all his medals from the British Empire Games: silver in wrestling, gold in rowing and bronze in shooting. When my father didn't make the first advances with my mother she took the initiative and intentionally got herself pregnant with my eldest sister. I didn't find that out until I was an adult.

    I was born in 1939 at the start of the war and my parents moved to Vancouver when I was two. They didn’t have much money and we lived in a duplex in Point Grey, about 4 blocks from the beach. Paul (M26) is familiar with that area. Father worked for Neon Products putting nickel on steel. We had no heat in the duplex because it had a sawdust burning furnace and we couldn’t get fir sawdust to burn. In the winter we had ice crystals on the inside of our windows, and the fog was so thick on damp days that you could not see 4 meters. Cars use to get lost in the city and followed the trolley-car home. My older sister and I used to play hide and seek on our way to school.

    My father changed his career somewhere around then and joined a successful insurance company. We started having a bit more money and eventually had enough to buy our own home. Father joined the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club and raced Star class sailboats in English Bay with his boss. I became a dock rat fishing for perch and flounders while my father was sailing. I never went out in the sailboat. It was a racing machine meant for two.

    My earliest memories were exploring Point Grey on my own. There was a good sized forest there in those days called the University Endowment lands and it was my playground on weekends. I would take off in the morning with a peanut butter sandwich and an apple and not come back until supper… or later. I was always a loner and quite happy by myself if there was a forest or fishing nearby. At 8 years old I was riding an adult bicycle that I couldn’t sit on the seat. I stood on the peddles with the seat touching the middle of my back. I rode it for miles and never thought anything of it. Today, people would call the police if they saw some tiny kid on an adult bicycle riding alone over the Lions Gate Bridge.
    Last edited by Ian Forbes; 10th January 2017 at 20:01.
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  10. #30
    Uber Star Soi wanderer Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน OZZYGUY's Avatar
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    I was waiting for your post to this thread Ian. I expected a interesting story and I was correct. Great post.

    Thought a few old photos would have been added...55

  11. #31
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    Quote Originally Posted by OZZYGUY View Post
    I was waiting for your post to this thread Ian. I expected a interesting story and I was correct. Great post.

    Thought a few old photos would have been added...55
    The old snuff box...





    my father is 5th from left in this picture



    Some of his medals. Gold medal for rowing eights at Empire games bottom left hand corner



    Our family speed boat "Tarphoo" with me at the helm and my sister in the back



    My father in cowboy hat. He had bright red curly hair, as did both of my sisters



    Nerdy me in my grad photo



    This is the area the group of us rode into Stanley Park on our bicycles last summer



    And English Bay where we all had beer on the beach

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  12. #32
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    Vancouver lovelies in the 1940s

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  13. #33
    Uber Star Soi wanderer Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Chob's Avatar
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    Im reading this thread with interest.

    My Dad was an English immigrant to Australia , a '10 pound pom' they were called , as for 10 pd sterling they got passage and a guaranteed job on arrival .
    And my Mum was a daughter of the Bush.
    Dads father , old George , had enlisted with the Empire Army at 15 , as he had no other 'prospects' , and was serving in Northern India and Afghanistan at the outbreak of WW 1. He was called back , and sent to nth France where he was a gunnery sargent and wounded at the Somme and again near Ypres. After the war he met old Florence , who was the daughter of a successful builder , and they took up a nice house over looking the Oval , much of the row of which can still be seen today when watching the cricket , as could the big gas tanks that Grandad had to take care of during the Blitz.

    My father had a bad time during the Blitz.
    He was evacuated at age 10 with the order to take care of his little brothers aged 8 and 4 and worse still , to a miserly divorcees house on an isolated farm , and that woman basically pocketed any money his Mum sent from her work in the munitions factories. At one stage he said they 3 were in rags and were on the edge of starvation , and so took to stealing food .
    Thats when their plight was discovered by the authorities.

    Anyway , after the war he decided he would emigrate.
    He went looking for the Canadian Embassy , couldnt find it , so went in to the Australian one.
    He arrived at the collection of tin sheds that was Darwin in 1952 and was shipped to 'Rum Jungle' to work with Uranium surveyors .He said the place was awful , but the air clean and the pay was great. He packed up in late '53 to take his savings back home , start a business , and look for a wife , women being a bit thin on the ground in the Territory.
    He shipped via Sydney , and decided he like it but had paid his passage.
    My Mum got on the same ship ...she said she saw him straight up and was determined to meet him at first opportunity.

    My Mum was sort of ahead of her time.
    She had been brought up in small mining towns on the edge of the desert until a downturn in commodity prices saw most of the families all move to one suburb, called Greenacre , in Western Sydney when she was 14. She said a whole new world opened to her in Sydney , and her Dads job in the railways ( at Enfield ) couple with his weekend work as a traditional horsebreaker/whisperer ) afforded her a chance at a good school. A 'Ladies College ' in Strathfield. There she revelled in her subjects of History and Geography . After that she took a number of jobs ( mainly Legal Office work ) and saved and saved. Her and her best friend from the same desert town and suburb had decided on a plan - they would 'do' Europe.
    So Mum and Dad met on the ship.
    In the UK , Dad worked , and Mum and her mate ( 'Aunty Shirley') toured Europe for over a year.
    They returned and were married in Sydney in late '55.
    They enjoyed a delayed 'honeymoon' at the Melbourne Olympics in 1956 and had their 'dream home' , a fibro 2 bedder, built in Cabramatta a few years later.
    Thats the first house I recall , and it was all good times as far as I remember.... the adults 'twistin' on polished floors in front of the record player on Saturday nights , standing on the bench seat between Mum and Dad in the FJ ute ... my trusty dog 'Sandy' , cubbies and billy carts and climbing trees and going down to Circular Key to see in ships ...
    We were to do a 2 year tour of the world in 1966.
    I was 9.
    We had to get needles and Mum wasnt well.
    Dad said , "We arent going after all ...instead we are getting you a little brother ! Or Sister !"
    I asked if he could be more specific....555

    After that we moved from a very open and 'starter' very bushy suburb into near the grandparents with my new baby brother.
    Greenacre had flush toilets and curbed and guttering.
    But the house needed renovating , and 3rd grade there were already on their 12 times tables , while I was up to 5 ...
    I remember many a misreable afternoon while Mum brought me ,"up to Scratch" , often with a ruler.
    But the suburb was good enough back then ... sure there were plenty of "better" ones , but I had Nan and Pop five doors up , and lots of the old timers within the block , who threw fish on your verandah and squeezed you in to drive to a Gymkhana or football . And still a bit of bush to play in.
    It was a lot harder for the little bro I think. By his time the neighbourhood had a lot of Vietnamese and Lebanese gangs.

    But by 18 I had gone.
    I moved to Newcastle to go to Uni and never went back.
    Mum said in a little speech to me not too long before she died , "You both are good boys. Never once did I have the Police around or have to go to court for you . No problems with drugs or smashing up things drunk.."
    My Mum and Dad had been in love all their life and happily showed affection. He was a very gentle soul , and pretty quiet , and it had been her who had driven us along , sometimes with a stick. But she rejected the Church ( she was Catholic ) as overbearing and BS , and was a great believer in being a citizen of the world and giving everyone a fair go. She supported the anti-war movement and the aboriginal vote way before it was popular. She taught us to skill up and then think for ourselves and back ourselves.
    But most of all I was surprised when I finally got old enough to realise it , how many parents out there werent 'in love' like mine , when every movie I'd ever seen and every book I'd ever read always ended with the couple married and in love...

    I know we didnt have much , but I dont think there is much I would change either...
    Last edited by Chob; 11th January 2017 at 12:57.
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  14. #34
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    It is a good thread that explains who we are and how we come to think like we do. Thanks for starting it, Paul.

  15. #35
    Foundation Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Sydney's Avatar
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    One of things that stand out in a few of these posts is the resilience of our parents and grandparents and often the Mums ... they mostly started with so much less ..

    However I don't think its fair to lump the latest couple of generations of kids altogether and say they don't know how to grind, sure they have being given a lot more than we ever had, but that doesn't make them all spoiled brats and have no idea ..... i mean you can't just judge this on a few kids that you might know is what i am trying to say and often hear on this forum
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  16. #36
    ประเทศไทยเพื่อน Founding Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน PeteGill's Avatar
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    I grew up on a small holding south of what was then known as Salisbury (Now Harare). In what was the capital of the then Rhodesia. Now Zimbabwe.

    My folks ran two businesses off that property. My dad had a stone masonry/ building business and my mom a small poultry farm. My earliest memories were of growing up poor. We had Salvation Army food hand-outs and all slept in a small converted garage.
    Dad drove an old WW2 surplus Bedford five ton truck, as both his work vehicle and the family runabout. He also had a small Villiers motorcycle that he used to ride to his night time job on the telephone exchange.

    But to just step back a bit further in time. My grandfather on my dad’s side left Scotland with his brothers in the late 1800’s. They were all masons from Aberdeen. Their first stop being the USA.
    But it was the time when immigrants in the USA were very much second class citizen’s. So after a few years they all boarded ship for Southern Africa. Once there the brothers split up. One staying in Durban, one moving to Australia and the third, grandpa George up the new colony of Southern Rhodesia. To set up as the first proper stone mason there.

    He set up his business and was soon doing well, he settled and married and had two sons. Sadly his wife (my grandmother) died young, when my dad was just eight or nine. Grandpa George moved in an English housekeeper who eventually became his wife and bore him two more sons. My dad left home to live in has fathers workshop at 14 as he could not get on with his step mom. He still continued his schooling though.

    Straight out of school he enlisted to serve in WW2, lying about his age as he was a year too young to join up. His service was spent in East and North Africa. Because of bad eyesight he was assigned to the engineers corps where he did amongst other things, vehicle salvaging and repair. It stood him in good stead in later life as a he developed the ability to take scrap or used parts and design and build machinery for his business during the sanction years.

    After the war my dad and his elder brother got involved in a few ventures, including a brief stint in crocodile hunting, bee keeping and a stone crushing business. Before he settled in to his dad’s business. He took over from the old man on a hand shake, something that would come back to bite him a few years later.

    My mom was born and bred in Cape Town, South Africa. (Hence my attachment to CT) The youngest of eleven children. She was married and divorced young, so moved north to join her eldest brother and get away from the stigma of divorce in those years.

    She met and married my dad and they settled in the small set of buildings that had been part of the stone crushing business, a machine room converted to kitchen and bathroom and the garage where we slept.

    Sadly my grandfather passed when I was about two years old and my dad’s stepmom Jane. Took my dad to court and won over the ownership of the business and property. He had to pay her out for both as well as the legal fees. he had also had a huge bust-up with his elder brother over money, so had to pay him out as well.. Hence the fact that my earliest memories were of being dirt poor as my folks tried to dig themselves out of debt.

    By the time my youngest brother arrived (he is 11 years younger than me) things were looking up. Dad had designed and built a three tier split level house around the old stone crushing buildings.
    I have very pleasant memories of going off in to the bush for a week at a time whilst on school holidays to quarry granite. We lived rough, a tarp attached to the side of the truck and a couple of goats bought from locals and slaughtered for us and the crew. I loved running around barefoot in the veld.

    I must have visited every cemetery in the country by my 15th birthday. Hell we even slept in some if they were far enough away to make it a two day trip. That and the fact that I sometimes did my homework in the slaughter house of the poultry farm went a long way to shaping my sometimes bizarre sense of humour I believe.

    Life was good by then, a caravan and boat, annual trips to Cape Town to visit relatives. A huge property to play or just disappear on, and the ultimate luxury at the time. A swimming pool meant that I was never short of friends to hang out with.

    I was pretty average at school, lazy some might say. But it was well before ADD became the buzz word and I just battled to concentrate on anything that did not appeal to me. I scraped through my ‘O’ Levels.

    I left school and worked for my dad for a bit, but it was not for ne as I am not technically inclined. In a way I was lucky, my dad suffered from emphysema badly. Smoking and the continuous exposure to granite dust turned his lungs in to two concrete blocks. He suffered badly in his later years. I was spared that by not pursuing the family business.

    By then the bush war in Rhodesia was growing and every young male was called up. I was designated fit for office duty only. After national service I joined the bank in the IT section as a computer operator, and have worked in IT ever since.

    By the late seventies the war was at its peak. We were spending six weeks in and six weeks out.. sadly it was taking its toll on all sides, I still vividly remember the daily noon radio broadcast where the number of fatalities were announced… We regret to announce the passing of trooper so and so, killed in active service. X amount of terrorists were killed and Y amount of collaborators or civilians were killed in crossfire. I was as I say lucky, but I lost a number of friends, both in service and in civilian attacks. I look back at it all now a s a dreadful waste of life.

    In 1981 I quit my job and moved to the UK for a while, but work was hard to come by, and as I had loads of family in Cape Town. I moved here and have been here ever since.

    My brothers followed me down to CT and then my mom persuaded my dad to sell up so that she could be close to the boys and to her own family.

    Possibly the biggest change in my life came after joining the local running club. I became friends with a number of people who were far more liberal than I and gradually I begun to change my way of thinking and lose the hatred towards other races that had been so much part of my younger life.

    And that is it.. Old man in Africa 555
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    Foundation Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Sydney's Avatar
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    ^^ Fascinating stuff Pete ... wow the difference between upbringing's between all of us is fairly stark ...
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  18. #38
    Uber Star Soi wanderer Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน OZZYGUY's Avatar
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    This thread gets better and better. I am really enjoying reading this.

    Would be good to get a response from some of the wife's, that could be interesting.

  19. #39
    Foundation Member Thai Dreamer ผู้เพ้อฝัน Minder's Avatar
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    I grew up in a small country town surrounded by older relatives and living in the family ancestral home – an 1850’s Miner’s cottage on a small acreage – with my older brother and sister, my divorced mother and my grandparents. My “father figure” was my grandfather, and I could not have had a better one, he was a First World War veteran, and a real war veteran at that. A man who had spent years in the trenches of the Western Front and had been wounded three times.

    I think now that it was his quiet but firm example and his sense of right and wrong, of duty and obligation that lead me to make certain career choices later in life… that and as mentioned elsewhere I needed a job by then. I visit his grave without fail every time I visit my old home town. He died when I was 15, still carrying pieces of shrapnel in his body from the days of the "Great War"

    My grandmother's side of the family can be traced to their small farm in the Parish of Greta where the son of their neighbours soon entered Australian History as Edward "Ned" Kelly. My grandmother lived to see two World Wars and the Great Depression up close, her stories of the swag-men dying of TB under the bridges between Albury and Wodonga stir in my head every time I drive that highway.

    Back then in the 1960's we were poor by today’s standards but I often say, everybody was in those days. Nothing got thrown away and hand-me-down clothing and second hand toys were normal. When people talk these days about “recycling” and “being green” like they invented it, it still makes me smile.

    The vegetable scraps got fed to the chickens and the old dog got any meat scraps that made it that far and any animal sick enough to need a trip to the vet got put out of its misery where it lay. No money for those things. If we were having a chook for Sunday roast, then that meant bad news and a decapitation for a young hen or two.

    We seldom had rabbit, not sure why that was though I saw their skinned and gutted bodies rising out in the concrete laundry trough more than once. We had a cow to for a few of my early years that I would help my Grandfather milk and year and again the Bull from the neighbouring farm would find his way through a broken fence and save my grinning Pa a “sire” fee…. 555

    Primary school was called St Joseph’s Catholic school and it was home to a group of vicious withered women called the Brigidine Nuns, corporal punishment was a daily event and I, the spawn of the devil being left-handed and the seed of divorced parents got special attention. If there is a Hell then there were a dozen deserving candidates in that horrid place.

    Secondary school was a relief, it was the local State High School, no more Nuns, and much less hypocrisy and even getting beaten up by the older boys seemed a small price to pay for such an escape. Final year of High School and I was President of the Student Council, not so much popular as having a gift for rigging elections … 555

    When I was 18 I went to “the big smoke” Melbourne and tried Tertiary education at Coburg State College for six months or so – I dropped out and tried a couple of different jobs until I found myself standing on a hill in Glen Waverley in May of 1980 as Victorian Police Recruit T189 – nobody was more surprised than I.
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  20. #40
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    Family upbringing part 2

    My father was the classic taciturn Scott. He was honest, hard working and reliable, and his hand shake was like a signed contract. However, he had no concept how to raise kids, and he had no idea how to run a household… That was women’s work: cooking, cleaning, teaching children right from wrong, putting kids to bed, etc, or even inter-acting with children. I guess that is how he was raised. Unfortunately, I desperately wanted my father’s attention and to do things with him, but that was not to be. The ONLY time I got attention was when I did something wrong. And, for that, I got a spring steel strap across my butt.

    That had a direct bearing on how I grew up. I don’t recall once that my father ever gave me a compliment for anything I did well. I was not the natural athlete that my father was, but I loved sports. When I wasn’t perfect the first time we played catch or kicked a ball then he never gave me a second try. That was when I was 4 or 5 years old. But, if I did something wrong I always got the strap. Consequently, I got the strap a LOT. Just like a puppy that craves attention; it will choose abuse over being ignored.

    However, what I DID learn from the spankings was how to ignore physical pain. I just blanked it out so it didn’t hurt as much. I can still do that today.

    Something else that affected me deeply was starting school too early. I was small, sweet and a year younger than the other kids. There were just as many bullies at school as there are today and fist fights were common. I got picked on constantly and fought all the time. Occasionally, some bully teacher would haul us in and we got punished even further with a cane strap across the butt or hand. The one thing my father DID teach me was how to hit to make it count, and to always get in the first blow. I’ve still got the mental scars from those memories and it is the reason why I still have a passionate hatred for all bullies everywhere. I don’t care what level of authority they are, I can read them like a book.

    As a teenager I was a pretty good artist in sculpture, drawing and painting, but not once did my father ever give me a compliment. Because I’m a bit colour blind my father would say… “That’s no good, the colours are wrong.”, despite the fact that the drawing was accurate and the composition pleasing. But he never told me how to correct it. Mother always over praised me, even for stuff I knew wasn’t very good, and I didn’t value her opinion.

    In my later teens I grew faster, and passed some of the guys who were bigger than me in grade school. I was still growing in height at 21. I loved Canadian football (gridiron) and played it in high school. I wasn’t fast but I was a good tackler and had good hands catching a pass. I starred in high school, but I wasn’t big enough when I got to university. At that level I only got to junior varsity in a back up role.
    OZZYGUY and lakeboy like this.

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