Life, unlike pager technology, seems to be rather cyclical at times. This weekend just passed could very well have been one of many of the last ten years, and certainly one of the finest. All the occurrence's had some kind of retro-charm, as I indulged with some of my finest friends the typical shenanigans we know so well. Firstly, there was house moving with my top mate Bryan, which went as flawlessly as anyone can hope. Of course I did cop a nasty blow to the ol' testes, and Bryan did leave the door open to the vacating house in Camberwell, but compared to some moves (hi Jon!), this was as smooth as a Westpac rates analogy.
Then of course I was blessed with the delightful presence of two of my oldest and dearest chums, Dallas and Jon, otherwise known collectively as Craig Turley. These last few years I haven't been around the boys as much as I would like, but saturday night felt like a winding back of the clock. I can only hope that evenings as such will become more common again. Not forgetting of course Chan and Tris and Jessie and Squire and Annie and Damian by phone correspondence, each and all wonderful company, but there was something a little bit special about having a laugh with those two dingus' again.
And then the ultimate barometer of such things nostalgic and sentimental, Bryan hurt himself in an astonishingly spectacular fashion, and yet was able to hold his head high, the pain deep deep inside and his dignity well and truly intact! As is his way.
So one and all, thank you for the last few days, and three cheers to many more!
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I read someplace the plural of dingus was dinghy.
ReplyDeleteHi Dan!