The Dino Ferrari
Without Prejudice
So suddenly we had a Ferrari like Greg Normans one, he said. A Ferrari that was slung low and took a contortionist to get into it. Two seat in the back that the girls could barely climb into. With a yellow horses head badge and a heavy clutch. We lived in Keysborough then and had a red Ferrari and I thought he was off his rocker. My brother Dave commented that he loved that sort of capitalism when I told him. Admired his drive and ambition and I just thought he was nuts.
He had been acting nuts for ages, wearing his acid wash jeans too tight so that his belly hung over it like a porch. Coloured Lac Coste polos with the symbol on the front pocket, lemon and pink. He dyed his hair and wanted it straightened too, like Johnny Farnham. Sunglasses, aviator style he hung from the collar of the polo. A thick wallet full of money that caused his back pocket to strain. And it bulged out. He had a mobile phone attached to his too tight belt in a black leather pouch. The old style phone that was like a house brick. But the Ferrari was the last straw.
The girls didn't like him to pull up at High School in it, made him park around the corner. I had to drive it sometimes if there was no car left at home but it. It was heavy clutched and so low I felt like I was skidding along the ground. It was stupid and I hated it, saw only hatred in it and his desire for youth. He would ask if people were watching us as we waited at the lights. And I said Yes, he would keep his head resolutely turned forward, sunglasses shading his eyes.
The first service and a new radio cost us $10,000 and he hid the invoice from me and I seethed when I saw it. Seethed, silently which some might see as acquiescence. But it wasn't. It was a silence borne of "Let's not upset him", which was impossible. Battle lines had been drawn years before between me and him and his girls. They were never to know what it was like for a Father to hug them, kiss them or tell them he was proud of them, no matter what he they did. Deb and Lauren were excellent students but no praise did he give. But he was so very quick to find fault.
The Ferrari gave him a sense of achievement and when he explained the feeling, it made sense to him. The girls and I just stayed silent. But they brought their friends around to see it and take photos of it. It sat on our newly Pattern paved driveway at the front of our shitty brown house like a symbol of insanity inside. The fly screens were warped and bent on the windows of the house but we had a Ferrari. He alone drove it most of the time. It wasn't exactly a Family car. That was his intention. He had tried once for a Family holiday but by then it was too little and too late.
Deb and I worked our rimgs out to have housekeeping and clothes but we had a Ferrari. I ran the business for him while he went overseas to the Philippines. I allowed him to go on a cruise as a security guard as a friend was doing it. He had never been out of Australia his entire life and he was making up for time lost. He came back from both places a different man. I struggled to cope with him and the girls and the responsibilities.
He did his back in and I had to sack a man as he didn't have the bottle to. He stayed at home for three weeks and sought treatment while I ran the Business. The man I had to sack was a personal threat and he expected me to do all the sackings from then on. He no longer brought the Ferrari to work after a while as it upset the subbies, he said, and they asked for more money. He underpaid them and berated them to work harder, longer and he would then cut their pay. Money was God to him and he was going to hell in a hand basket and we were going with him.
To be continued.......
So suddenly we had a Ferrari like Greg Normans one, he said. A Ferrari that was slung low and took a contortionist to get into it. Two seat in the back that the girls could barely climb into. With a yellow horses head badge and a heavy clutch. We lived in Keysborough then and had a red Ferrari and I thought he was off his rocker. My brother Dave commented that he loved that sort of capitalism when I told him. Admired his drive and ambition and I just thought he was nuts.
He had been acting nuts for ages, wearing his acid wash jeans too tight so that his belly hung over it like a porch. Coloured Lac Coste polos with the symbol on the front pocket, lemon and pink. He dyed his hair and wanted it straightened too, like Johnny Farnham. Sunglasses, aviator style he hung from the collar of the polo. A thick wallet full of money that caused his back pocket to strain. And it bulged out. He had a mobile phone attached to his too tight belt in a black leather pouch. The old style phone that was like a house brick. But the Ferrari was the last straw.
The girls didn't like him to pull up at High School in it, made him park around the corner. I had to drive it sometimes if there was no car left at home but it. It was heavy clutched and so low I felt like I was skidding along the ground. It was stupid and I hated it, saw only hatred in it and his desire for youth. He would ask if people were watching us as we waited at the lights. And I said Yes, he would keep his head resolutely turned forward, sunglasses shading his eyes.
The first service and a new radio cost us $10,000 and he hid the invoice from me and I seethed when I saw it. Seethed, silently which some might see as acquiescence. But it wasn't. It was a silence borne of "Let's not upset him", which was impossible. Battle lines had been drawn years before between me and him and his girls. They were never to know what it was like for a Father to hug them, kiss them or tell them he was proud of them, no matter what he they did. Deb and Lauren were excellent students but no praise did he give. But he was so very quick to find fault.
The Ferrari gave him a sense of achievement and when he explained the feeling, it made sense to him. The girls and I just stayed silent. But they brought their friends around to see it and take photos of it. It sat on our newly Pattern paved driveway at the front of our shitty brown house like a symbol of insanity inside. The fly screens were warped and bent on the windows of the house but we had a Ferrari. He alone drove it most of the time. It wasn't exactly a Family car. That was his intention. He had tried once for a Family holiday but by then it was too little and too late.
Deb and I worked our rimgs out to have housekeeping and clothes but we had a Ferrari. I ran the business for him while he went overseas to the Philippines. I allowed him to go on a cruise as a security guard as a friend was doing it. He had never been out of Australia his entire life and he was making up for time lost. He came back from both places a different man. I struggled to cope with him and the girls and the responsibilities.
He did his back in and I had to sack a man as he didn't have the bottle to. He stayed at home for three weeks and sought treatment while I ran the Business. The man I had to sack was a personal threat and he expected me to do all the sackings from then on. He no longer brought the Ferrari to work after a while as it upset the subbies, he said, and they asked for more money. He underpaid them and berated them to work harder, longer and he would then cut their pay. Money was God to him and he was going to hell in a hand basket and we were going with him.
To be continued.......
