2020 is a dog everywhere you look

Preludes to Nothing

When they were teaching us to write, our teachers back at school used to invite us to think about what sorts of things would appeal to the reader. A killer first sentence, for example. And a strong start and finish.

And, they used to say, do try to not bore your readers. Like you all do every time we set an essay. 

2020 is a dog everywhere you look. Essendon dropped down to thirteenth, in the end. Bloody feckin bastid of a thing. You end up watching the finals with a blank expression on your face. Pies by a point last night, by the way. Can’t be happy with that. We need them to go out backwards. By a point, preferably, somewhere along the line. Even two’s a crowd at the top of the tree, premierships-wise, without having to put up with the smell of Collingwood up there too.

Bored yet? Good. I can’t think properly, with a reader looking over my shoulder. Just because penguins and blokes in dresses tell us we must be in want of readers doesn’t mean that’s true. Otherwise, I could just say something like Australia's full and that would be true too. Which it is.

Yes, I know. Disrespectful. Der. But considering the bastids forced me to do Year 12 twice just so they could humiliate me and fail me in English both times, I’m somehow finding it hard to work up a hell of a lot of compassion for nuns, sitting here in my flat as I am with no beer in the fridge and the telly on the blink.

And anyway, I can tell you from personal experience that insults coming from the back row of the class never bothers them bastids. Not as much as a thick duster heavy with chalk Brother Columba once hurled at me bothered me, when it almost knocked me out.

So, feck ‘em.

All right then. That felt good! Now, let me think. How do “I” feel like starting this book? And yep, I’ve got it. With some definitions. Definitions are boring. And first cab off the rank will be a definition of a girl I call X. Yes, X. Like I’m Ian-bloody-Fleming writing a James Bond book.

But seriously, X has been a big deal for me, over the last few years. She’s had me reviewing my entire world view. Which has not been a bad thing at all. Because before she came along, I was a bit of a redneck fish and chips sort of girl watching Romper Stomper over and over and crashing every protest I could find looking for foreigners to make them want to go back to wherever it was the hell they came from.

Pulling on the boots and tightening up the laces; 

Shaving their heads and strapping on the braces.

Then you are a skinhead, looking for a fight;

Skinhead, skinhead, running through the night.

Just noticed. It’s the 5th of October. Well, it is here in Australia, anyway. So, happy birthday Mum! And Marie! Love you …

Coach, 5 Oct 2020.