Hey True Blue, Is It Me And You
Without Prejudice
Hey True Blue, is it me and You. Is it Mum and Dad, is it a Kangaroo ?
What exactly does it mean to be an Aussie .
To me as a homesick girl in the U.K. At 12 , it was purple and red streaked across the sky in Port Augusta, it was the old man kangaroo My Scottish Dad brought home from spotlight shooting and lain in the bath to bleed out. Such a magnificent animal stretched out in death. And my Mothers yelling at my hapless Dad to
"get it out "
It's spinifex and bush flowers and endless horizons and freedom. It's crossing flooded rivers and hoping the old Humber Super Snipe will make it and not conk out. It's caravans covered in red dust and it's the sunsets in Darwin.
It's the Barrier Reef and snorkelling and seeing the wonders of coral and tropical fish. It's swimming at Surfers and being dumped again and again on the shore. It's the smells of sea and fresh air and the oil sprayed on hot bodies by the Mutton Bird man.
It's eating ice creams and trying to stop it running down your arms. It's the shiver you get when darkness starts to fall and the hint of sunburn can be felt. It's having sand on your feet and salt in your hair and standing under the icy cold outdoor showers at Surfers main beach. Gazing out across the vast Pacific and feeling small at the waters edge.
It's surviving Summers so excruciatingly hot you think you will die with it and peeling your thighs off hot vinyl seats that promise to leave marks forever. It's freckles it's surviving its being an Aussie.
It's eating lamingtons with coconut dropping on to your lap. It's the heat of a pie with sauce and knowing its volcanic contents are going to burn your soft palate but you eat it anyway.
It's being freezing cold in Melbourne at the G and laughing at the comments from the dinky di footy fans and cheering for Collingwood as the crowd erupts in one surge. It's long hot days in Summer of cricket, again at the G, but this time in the Corporate Box, getting pissed on champagne and eating little slivers of food.
It's being cheeky, bold and Ned Kelly like, our national hero, and being daring enough to get away with anything and knowing its not going to be a big deal. It's doing handstands and cartwheels along strips of white sand in sheer joy. And writing HELP in the sand with a stick and followed by a wee little white dog that comes from nowhere.
It's a rainy cold afternoon where you sit on a couch with you Sister Jackie and cry at Steve Irwins funeral. You are helping her pack up her waterfront apartment at Surfers Paradise for the winter. The sea grey, sky grey, and tears drip down your face as you hear John Williamson sing True Blue and you see the empty ute.
We both sob, broken hearted for Steve and his family and for Queensland and for Australia. His crazy enthusiasm and cheeky grin gone forever.
It's Elvis, the water bombing helicopter flying overhead and the uplifting you feel when you see it. Knowing that it is traversing back and forth with its 9000 litres of water to try and contain the bush fires.
It's a harsh country at times, with the rivers surging, the heat crackling, the sun, the flies and the insects. It's snakes in Summer, it's kangaroos that bound across the road at night in the back of N.S.W as you drive red eyed through the hot night. And pray you don't hit as you just know your car will come off second best.
To be continued
Hey True Blue, is it me and You. Is it Mum and Dad, is it a Kangaroo ?
What exactly does it mean to be an Aussie .
To me as a homesick girl in the U.K. At 12 , it was purple and red streaked across the sky in Port Augusta, it was the old man kangaroo My Scottish Dad brought home from spotlight shooting and lain in the bath to bleed out. Such a magnificent animal stretched out in death. And my Mothers yelling at my hapless Dad to
"get it out "
It's spinifex and bush flowers and endless horizons and freedom. It's crossing flooded rivers and hoping the old Humber Super Snipe will make it and not conk out. It's caravans covered in red dust and it's the sunsets in Darwin.
It's the Barrier Reef and snorkelling and seeing the wonders of coral and tropical fish. It's swimming at Surfers and being dumped again and again on the shore. It's the smells of sea and fresh air and the oil sprayed on hot bodies by the Mutton Bird man.
It's eating ice creams and trying to stop it running down your arms. It's the shiver you get when darkness starts to fall and the hint of sunburn can be felt. It's having sand on your feet and salt in your hair and standing under the icy cold outdoor showers at Surfers main beach. Gazing out across the vast Pacific and feeling small at the waters edge.
It's surviving Summers so excruciatingly hot you think you will die with it and peeling your thighs off hot vinyl seats that promise to leave marks forever. It's freckles it's surviving its being an Aussie.
It's eating lamingtons with coconut dropping on to your lap. It's the heat of a pie with sauce and knowing its volcanic contents are going to burn your soft palate but you eat it anyway.
It's being freezing cold in Melbourne at the G and laughing at the comments from the dinky di footy fans and cheering for Collingwood as the crowd erupts in one surge. It's long hot days in Summer of cricket, again at the G, but this time in the Corporate Box, getting pissed on champagne and eating little slivers of food.
It's being cheeky, bold and Ned Kelly like, our national hero, and being daring enough to get away with anything and knowing its not going to be a big deal. It's doing handstands and cartwheels along strips of white sand in sheer joy. And writing HELP in the sand with a stick and followed by a wee little white dog that comes from nowhere.
It's a rainy cold afternoon where you sit on a couch with you Sister Jackie and cry at Steve Irwins funeral. You are helping her pack up her waterfront apartment at Surfers Paradise for the winter. The sea grey, sky grey, and tears drip down your face as you hear John Williamson sing True Blue and you see the empty ute.
We both sob, broken hearted for Steve and his family and for Queensland and for Australia. His crazy enthusiasm and cheeky grin gone forever.
It's Elvis, the water bombing helicopter flying overhead and the uplifting you feel when you see it. Knowing that it is traversing back and forth with its 9000 litres of water to try and contain the bush fires.
It's a harsh country at times, with the rivers surging, the heat crackling, the sun, the flies and the insects. It's snakes in Summer, it's kangaroos that bound across the road at night in the back of N.S.W as you drive red eyed through the hot night. And pray you don't hit as you just know your car will come off second best.
To be continued
