30-31/7/1985 Today I will learn Italian

You may recall that the root cause of my extraordinary mobility over the these last few weeks in 1985 was due to my mother’s absence in Western Australia and my ability to ‘do’ puppy dog eyes which convinced her to loan me her vehicle while she was away. Well, it was Tuesday 30th July today and time for her return to town and my return to reliance upon my wits, friends and guile to get me places. Oh yes, and my bike!

Having had access to the british racing green Datsun 180B wagon for the last few weeks made me a sure bet to be the meeter-at-the-airport, and so after work I raced to Mt Gravatt to collect my brother, Adrian – then headed to the Ansett terminal at Brisbane airport to meet mother’s 7:10pm fight from Perth.


No Gateway bridge in those days (though it was under construction), I took the opportunity (using my wits, right) to get dropped at home on their drive back to Morningside.

There’s an obtuse note in my diary today which says, “I started learning Italian today – Sam will help me”. Sam , I assume, was Sam Cutuli, the angelic, 60-something, kitchen-hand at work, who moved at a slow pace but with incredible finesse and efficiency. He once cured a particularly long case of hiccups with, what he claimed was an old Sicilian cure – a teaspoon of sugar with a drop of vinegar on it – and it worked, and still does work, a treat. I didn’t think I ever tried to learn Italian till after I went there. Perhaps it really was the urban gent forming!

Wednesday 31 July is most unusual in this diary’s terms, as I wrote 6 of the 8 lines entered about work and it’s lack of appeal. Apparently my assistants hadn’t come in, which made the day quite difficult and me quite difficult as well by the sound of things…

Here’s a spot I made for Triple Zed on 6 July 1985…



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