Letting go…

In the past few years, a lot has changed in my life. There is nothing special in that statement. Every 4 years a lot seems to happen in the world. To everyone, not just me.

In eight, well, changes don’t just double do they, they seem to compound into a mass 50 times larger than before. And, we all, make the mistake of thinking that we remain an eternal 21, only realising on our birthday, or when filling in forms, that we are in fact further down life’s journey than we would care to admit.

So this is where I am at these days:

No Longer 21, or 42 for that matter...

The Love Cub – Long gone, a victim of the lack of funds & time & a house…and kids! (But with a fellow who stand a chance...)

The Silver Surfer – Now about to call Queensland home.

What???!!! Why on earth would you sell the Old Silver Surfer? I hear you say…

Well, life has happened.

When I was in the rarefied world of Fly in Fly out, a lovely vintage Vespa is a fantastic thing – you can ride it to the barbers/travel agents/ newsagents etc… it keeps your hopes up, it helps to keep you focused on the coming break. It gives you the conversation with your colleagues about your break… and all that awaits you in the mythical world that the FiFo worker refers to as “Home”

And, when you are doing a bit of shift work, well, the Friday, Saturday and Sunday shifts are Vespa territory. You know that the shift sucks, but, that you have rewarded yourself by taking the Vespa…

Well, that was great until where I find myself these days, time poor & living the life that the mirror tells me I am leading…

A Vespa is great for the solitary items in life, but, it becomes a problem when you have to pick up one or two of the silly boys from training. Thus, since my change of address, I have rarely “surfed”. I have evolved into a dad-taxi service… with the Silver Surfer sitting in the garage.

When I was doing a bit of shift work in The OJ, the Surfer was a great way to make it to work, but, since I have been working out at Cudal as the Worlds Largest Hobbit, well, the surfer has NOT surfed.

Being kicked over once every month or so.

Living in my memories, but not in my life.

Thus The Child Bride & I made the decision that someone else needs to be given the trusteeship of this fine old gentleman and his burgundy & white best mate.

So, The Silver Surfer has left to the much warmer & Vespa friendly climate of Queensland, and the Mighty Lamb will at some stage in the near future be similarly entrusted to another aficionado.

And the memory remains! The rather bracing rides home at 7AM in an OJ winter (negative temperature), the runs to the shop, the wineries, the coffee shops, good times all of them.

Even the breakdowns now have a rosy coloured glow about them; the piston rings blowing on the way in from Forrest Reefs, the time that BOTH gear shift cables broke on Anson st, the Clutch cable breaking at Byng involving a somewhat interesting ride home where I had to “Tip-toe” the Surfer to get him to speed to slip him into gear… & the associated diversion so that I didn’t have to ride Summer street in OJ.

Each incredibly stressful at the time, but now, rather fond memories.

And thus, James is now the Surfers steward. At a time when the old girl has never run better. Or been or more fun to ride…

It’s just that, life has gotten too big/complex & stuff! And it was the right time to let go!

Enjoy the Surfer James, I know I Certainly did!

So Mote it Be