Many years ago I was at a bit of a loose end, so I moved to Brisbane, because everyone I'd been sharing a house with scooted off overseas and I couldn't be bothered staying in Melbourne. I blame Weddings Parties Anything. If it wasn't for that damn song I possibly would've stuck around.
So I was in Brisbane, living in a house that defied the picturesque to be just plain old rotten with some people that I didn't know very well. And the overseas people (well two of them anyway) sent letters from all over the globe, from Vietnam and Hong Kong and Russia and Romania and it was very exciting.
And I would sent letters post restante to wherever I thought they might be soon-ish, and sometimes they'd get the letters and sometimes they didn't and those letters would turn up back in my letterbox having had great adventures in the world.
Today I got a letter from my brother, written while he was on a boat between some places, one of which was Spain, but he had many hours to go before he got there. And there've been emails and photos and facebook entries, but that's entirely not the same thing as getting a piece of paper from another country.
And now my travelling friends from those old days are in Brisbane and I'm here in the heart of the nation and no one much writes letters any more anyway.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
11 comments:
I wrote a post card to a blog friend on the other side of the world. Just because I could.
It is interesting how readers take different things from texts.
After reading this post, a well crafted rumination on the state of interpersonal communication, all I can think of now is how Michael Thomas is directly responsible, give or take a few questionable jumps of logic, for your husband's present and future happiness.
I knew he would come to appreciate him one day.
Irony.
I much preferred your post on journalistic ethics. You write good! (see how well-crafted I can be, hmmm?)
My writing is workmanlike in comparison to your elegance and whimsy. And, says he climbing onto the soapbox, is deserving of a forum beyond that of interdepartmental memos, although I suspect you may tone down the whimsy at work.
There, said it, moving on.
I never have and will never appreciate WPA. No matter how you twist and turn the logic.
Banana Banana - did someone say Brisbane?
Manana Manana is one of my favourite songs in the universe. But I moved TO Melbourne, not away from it, because of that song.
Oh goody, another that was lured by Mr Thomas' sweet siren song.
They will all hear it one day Penni.
I love it too - I just didn't want to be sitting on Johnson Street with no money for nothing.
Mr Sand, I fear your protests just strengthen the husband's resolve. He's been a'mutterin away all day.
I'm going to work on the Noodle, a chap of particular taste and virtue.
The collected works for his next birthday me thinks. Won't the husband enjoy those drives to school then?
Divide and conquer I say.
You can give the Noodle best of WPA,
Only if it has 'Happy Birthday, Helen' on it though.
That is cruel.
Post a Comment