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Jingle Bells, Mortar Shells, VC in the Grass // Filed under: Random on Monday April 24th 2006, 6:56 pm There is a story: It is World War I, and the sentry guards the gates.
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// Filed under: Life on Friday April 21st 2006, 10:36 pm As you may or may not know, my father, John Colwill, was the weatherman on the nightly TV news at the ABC - was being the operative word. Tonight, the 21st of April, saw the last appearance as the face of the ABC’s weather by a man who has given well over ten years of his life to an organisation, to an institution, that he believes in. I can’t remember a time in my life when Dad wasn’t involved with the ABC in one way or another. Growing up, he was always hosting one gardening talkback radio show or another. When he wasn’t hosting them he was listening to the gardening advice being dished out on the commercial channels, and hooting with disgust as he pencilled in the last few letters on his daily crossword. I remember on one of my birthdays one year he promised me he’d play a song of my choosing on the radio. Be Prepared from The Lion King, I said. The one thing I don’t remember is what he played instead. I remember when he moved to doing the TV weather full-time, in 1999. Oh, the jokes. I remember when he told me he was leaving the ABC. Seeing your father on the verge of tears is not something that you ever get used to. When someone’s contract expires - somebody who’s given an organisation over a decade of devoted, inspired service - somebody who has brought answers, information and happiness to hundreds of thousands of people, you’d think you’d be anxious to keep them. Instead, it appears the official ABC policy is to try to rehire them… for less. An era comes crashing to an end at the hands of incompetent, fearmongering management. A man gives a touching and honest farewell speech, delivers the weather for one last time with flawless precision, shows his leg on statewide television and comes home, to a dinner of microwaved, reheated curry and a bad Friday night movie. Dad didn’t deserve this. He’s come to terms with it now, and I honestly believe that the move will be good for him - but he didn’t deserve for it to end like this. He didn’t want to, shouldn’t have had to, go out like this - his dedication and his devotion have been badly abused. Tonight, a titan lies snoring in my living room chair, and my pride has never been so bittersweet. God bless you, Dad. // 12 Comments
See him surface, but never a shadow // Filed under: Random on Sunday April 09th 2006, 9:13 pm There’s an art to walking through department stores. Weaving between the the clothes racks, dodging the people. Spotting the patterns, the ebb and flow of the pedestrian, predicting the current. A skilled person can weave through without splashing or spilling, if you know what to look for. Men, terrified in a foreign land, moving in abstract curves, sticking to the paths like fearful pilgrims. Or worse, anchored to their women, dumbstruck as they are towed helplessly to places they don’t understand to discuss the vagaries of perfume with old sales-women behind the counter who sell only the very latest in whale-stomach contents as an overpriced urine-coloured liquid for the fashion-conscientious consumer. Women, men in tow as they swim between islands of bargains in a sea of consumers. Eyes peeled for tags and colour-coded demarcation, they refresh themselves by receiving beauty tips from wrinkled old saleswomen and young high-school dropouts who wear enough makeup themselves to make any tips almost certainly worthwhile. Nattering old saleswomen talking to their friends on the phone, in the quiet, abandoned luggage section of the store, or worse, to each other at the service counter as the queue slowly increases in size. The young kid, always a young kid, in the DVD section. He looks nervous and I smile, more to myself than him, but I’m just passing through. Straight lines are the key. You need to move in straight lines. You need to watch the crowd, but don’t let them slow you down. Unwinding after a productive weekend and feeling good. // 9 Comments
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