The girl in the tight blue jeans and soft-knit top suddenly sprang to life, her eyes sparkling in unison with the final dramatic burst of light and colour from the pyrotechnic display. The night air at the Perth Royal Agricultural Show was chill, and a slight breeze stirred loosened wisps of her soft honey coloured hair against cheeks flushed with excitement, while her brown eyes shone as the last sparks descended in vivid arcs to the dying strains of The Beatles hit "Yesterday."
As the bright embers spiralled in their journey towards the earth, growing dull and trailing smoky plumes in their wake, the girl turned and began to skip down the stairs, two at a time, and, casting a final glance over her shoulder, she dashed carelessly through the exit doorway. She was immediately thrown off balance, stumbled and would have fallen, had she not been caught and steadied by strong hands.
Above, the innocent writings of a seventeen year old girl, finishing her secondary schooling, about to embark on tertiary education and with aspirations to become an author. The writings I have kept from all those years ago, because that is a real memory of a time before AL came and soured so many memories that followed.
That's not to suggest in any way that I might actually have achieved that desire without AL, but it sure didn't help!
A little history. I was born in 1954, to creative, academic parents. My father was 20 years older than my mother, and he adored her. When I was born he adored me. He even stopped drinking for a couple of years after I was born. Of course, even less then than now, we didn't talk about 'family problems' or 'alcohol' or any kind of social issue. He was never 'drunk,' but 'a bit dopey.' I was about 10 before I understood that drunk and dopey were the same thing.
My parents' careers meant lots of cocktail parties. As I was a well-behaved and (legend has it) a very appealing child, I attended these from a young age. I remember quite clearly taking trays of finger foods from guest to guest. I was petted and cuddled and admired, and no-one seemed to notice that I was quite adept at finishing off some of the grown up drinks without being noticed , nor was my 'drinking' noticeable. That was the last time I think I was any good at moderation.
I'll continue this epic in bits and pieces.
As the bright embers spiralled in their journey towards the earth, growing dull and trailing smoky plumes in their wake, the girl turned and began to skip down the stairs, two at a time, and, casting a final glance over her shoulder, she dashed carelessly through the exit doorway. She was immediately thrown off balance, stumbled and would have fallen, had she not been caught and steadied by strong hands.
Above, the innocent writings of a seventeen year old girl, finishing her secondary schooling, about to embark on tertiary education and with aspirations to become an author. The writings I have kept from all those years ago, because that is a real memory of a time before AL came and soured so many memories that followed.
That's not to suggest in any way that I might actually have achieved that desire without AL, but it sure didn't help!
A little history. I was born in 1954, to creative, academic parents. My father was 20 years older than my mother, and he adored her. When I was born he adored me. He even stopped drinking for a couple of years after I was born. Of course, even less then than now, we didn't talk about 'family problems' or 'alcohol' or any kind of social issue. He was never 'drunk,' but 'a bit dopey.' I was about 10 before I understood that drunk and dopey were the same thing.
My parents' careers meant lots of cocktail parties. As I was a well-behaved and (legend has it) a very appealing child, I attended these from a young age. I remember quite clearly taking trays of finger foods from guest to guest. I was petted and cuddled and admired, and no-one seemed to notice that I was quite adept at finishing off some of the grown up drinks without being noticed , nor was my 'drinking' noticeable. That was the last time I think I was any good at moderation.
I'll continue this epic in bits and pieces.
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