MINDLESS MUSINGS

I was just a kid, around 10 or 11, accompanying my dad driving around the back streets of Marrickville. Going up one particularly steep hill there was a small utility truck ahead of us. There were two kids sitting in the back of this truck with one leg each hanging out. The kids in the back weren’t anything new; this being the early 80s seat belts were rare and sitting in the back like that wasn’t unique in any way.

It was the legs hanging out that caught our attention. I don’t remember if anyone said anything, but I definitely recall a sense that these kids were pushing their luck.

I don’t know if the truck went over a bump or what, but one of the kids fell out of the back onto the road right into the path of our car. My dad had to hit the brakes hard to avoid squishing this kid.

We avoided disaster and dad got out to help the kid. I saw him speak to the driver and if memory serves me correctly I believe the kid got back into the back of the truck. I am not certain of this so I will not comment further.

Flash forward and I am now around 17 years old. My father has left my mother and settled down with another woman. She already had three kids of her own; two sons and a daughter. The eldest boy was 15 years old and we got on really well. We even called each other brother.

So one afternoon I am sitting in my brother’s granny flat out the back of dad’s house. We have just finished smoking bongs and are well stoned; that wonderful feeling of floating on the coach listening to music and just chilling out.

Through the haze I hear my brother’s voice: “do you know that when I was a kid your father nearly ran me over”.

Holy crap!

You’re that kid!

The ‘pushing his luck’ kid!

I am still blown away at this fact: My step brother and pot smoking compadre was that very same kid from my childhood memories!

Small world; small world indeed.