In reply to my cri de coeur yesterday my old friend Malcolm Auld, the toast of Manly, NSW, made me laugh with a message simply headed: “RE: aahh, sex in a wardrobe…those were the days …”
Absolutely typical. Mal always was easily excited. It ws sex with a wardrobe, you fool.
But he made me think. I replied:
“Weren’t they just!
I did it in lifts, railway and hotel toilets … anywhere someone would say yes.
What the hell happened to our lives?”
Sad, really, isn’t it. And it reminded me that I started this blog with the intention of writing a sort of autobiography. So much for planning.
Talking of which, because I’m an idiot I agreed to write a 200 page holiday brochure for someone which I have to finish in a week or so. This was exceptionally stupid even by my standards, as I had the law book to write at the same time – which is now done.
Yesterday I was writing about Australia, and it suddenly occurred to me that I first met Mal almost exactly 25 years ago on a memorable cruise round Sydney Harbour.
It was my first speaking tour of Australia and New Zealand. The DMA had arranged it in my honour (i. e. as an excuse for a party). There were two big boats. The first was full, but there were only seven or eight of us on the second because we had to wait for my then wife, who was totally incapable of being on time for anything.
There were limitless prawns and plonk in the great Aussie tradition and we did our best.
Now that was what I call a cruise.
