The Worlds Strictest Parents
Without Prejudice
I think I had them, the Worlds Strictest Parents. It was the fifties and sixties when I was growing up. I can't remember ever wearing a dress until I was 8. Even then it was a hand made dress of pink and white candy stripe that fell to my knees and was my older sister Jackies. It was ridiculously big and I screwed it up in a ball and threw it in the bin.
As a child I can only remember ever wearing my red " cossy" a pair of faded Jantzen bathers that I was rather proud of. I was a Tom boy with burnt nose, freckles and a shocking haircut that my sister called The Roman Soldier. It looked like it had been cut with a knife and fork.
There were six of us at first, in Australia, our adopted new home. Six siblings, I learned everything from. Like The Von Trapps we were to be seen and not heard as children were in those days. We couldn't leave the lunch or dinner table without excusing ourselves. Announcing,
" Please may I leave the table ?"
Sunday's were church and home for dinner. I can never remember being allowed to stay at anyone else's house, ever. We had each other and that was enough, my parents reasoned. They were not unkind parents or given to give us floggings even though at times we probably deserved it. Although sometimes I saw my Dad chase after George until he was red in the face but never managed to catch him.
After Jamie died at 11 my parents became even more strict and I remember no activity outside of the family ever. We didn't visit and no one came to visit us. It seems so weird now looking back but that was the way it was. My Dad was trying to protect my Mother, I think. She was war damaged or " highly strung " and we all silently protected her too.
If we went anywhere it was as a Family only. Swimming squad, trips, restaurants, go karting, walking in The Blue Mountains amongst the rock pools, always just us, no tag alongs, no extras, I guess we were a big enough party on our own.
One time I do remember meeting a new person, visiting, he was the first gay person I ever met and by that time I was 11. We lived on the Gold Coast then and had to travel over the border to meet him. He had the most fabulous house and played a white piano on a terrace in the blazing sun, a la Liberace.
My Mum called him a " poof" as that was the term then and I had no idea what she was talking about. When she said it was a Man that preferred men I thought she was lying and ignored her. I was convinced that men could not possibly prefer other men and just buried my head in a book. My way of coping with things I didn't understand.
We were always moving and I hated it. I hated starting new schools and getting to know new kids who always acted like I had two heads when I opened my mouth and big words came flowing out. All my family and Mum and Dad spoke like that. Posh.
For recreation we were given the dictionary, an encyclopaedia or a huge bible to read. I loved The Bible. It was as big as a coffee table and had gold coloured steps inside with coloured plates of fiery angels in cerulean blues and scarlet and gold. With a gold tassel. It was beautiful.
The Angels were descending from Heaven, massive six foot Angels with white wings and powerful bodies ready to smite evil doers. My first visit to Sunday School was a disaster as I lied and told the Sunday School Teacher it was my birthday so I could get an extra paper picture stamp.
My sister busted me and that was that. She made me give it back.
After Church was rehearsal for my Muso Dad and Mum would hide in the kitchen, chain smoking and drinking tea. I think she never went to one of his shows as it made her " nervous". God knows why as he was very good at singing and playing his 24 string Hawaiian pedestal guitar. It came everywhere with us in the back of The Humber Super Snipe. Have guitar, will travel.
I think I had them, the Worlds Strictest Parents. It was the fifties and sixties when I was growing up. I can't remember ever wearing a dress until I was 8. Even then it was a hand made dress of pink and white candy stripe that fell to my knees and was my older sister Jackies. It was ridiculously big and I screwed it up in a ball and threw it in the bin.
As a child I can only remember ever wearing my red " cossy" a pair of faded Jantzen bathers that I was rather proud of. I was a Tom boy with burnt nose, freckles and a shocking haircut that my sister called The Roman Soldier. It looked like it had been cut with a knife and fork.
There were six of us at first, in Australia, our adopted new home. Six siblings, I learned everything from. Like The Von Trapps we were to be seen and not heard as children were in those days. We couldn't leave the lunch or dinner table without excusing ourselves. Announcing,
" Please may I leave the table ?"
Sunday's were church and home for dinner. I can never remember being allowed to stay at anyone else's house, ever. We had each other and that was enough, my parents reasoned. They were not unkind parents or given to give us floggings even though at times we probably deserved it. Although sometimes I saw my Dad chase after George until he was red in the face but never managed to catch him.
After Jamie died at 11 my parents became even more strict and I remember no activity outside of the family ever. We didn't visit and no one came to visit us. It seems so weird now looking back but that was the way it was. My Dad was trying to protect my Mother, I think. She was war damaged or " highly strung " and we all silently protected her too.
If we went anywhere it was as a Family only. Swimming squad, trips, restaurants, go karting, walking in The Blue Mountains amongst the rock pools, always just us, no tag alongs, no extras, I guess we were a big enough party on our own.
One time I do remember meeting a new person, visiting, he was the first gay person I ever met and by that time I was 11. We lived on the Gold Coast then and had to travel over the border to meet him. He had the most fabulous house and played a white piano on a terrace in the blazing sun, a la Liberace.
My Mum called him a " poof" as that was the term then and I had no idea what she was talking about. When she said it was a Man that preferred men I thought she was lying and ignored her. I was convinced that men could not possibly prefer other men and just buried my head in a book. My way of coping with things I didn't understand.
We were always moving and I hated it. I hated starting new schools and getting to know new kids who always acted like I had two heads when I opened my mouth and big words came flowing out. All my family and Mum and Dad spoke like that. Posh.
For recreation we were given the dictionary, an encyclopaedia or a huge bible to read. I loved The Bible. It was as big as a coffee table and had gold coloured steps inside with coloured plates of fiery angels in cerulean blues and scarlet and gold. With a gold tassel. It was beautiful.
The Angels were descending from Heaven, massive six foot Angels with white wings and powerful bodies ready to smite evil doers. My first visit to Sunday School was a disaster as I lied and told the Sunday School Teacher it was my birthday so I could get an extra paper picture stamp.
My sister busted me and that was that. She made me give it back.
After Church was rehearsal for my Muso Dad and Mum would hide in the kitchen, chain smoking and drinking tea. I think she never went to one of his shows as it made her " nervous". God knows why as he was very good at singing and playing his 24 string Hawaiian pedestal guitar. It came everywhere with us in the back of The Humber Super Snipe. Have guitar, will travel.
