Just like everyone else I’ve always had lots of problems. Unlike everyone else, it seems I
haven’t handled them too well. I keep trying very hard but after thirty five years I still don’t
know where I am heading. Like a rudderless ship, I never arrive at any destination.
Being the eldest of six children wasn’t a problem. The five children who followed me all had
severe problems, the biggest of which was matching me. I don’t mean to be egotistical but
that’s the way it was in our family.
Everyone from teachers to friends told me how brilliant I was at sports and lessons. As I
was only seven, I believed them. I was made feel very special as though I had been
singled out for success. I never questioned the future. I had no need to as every few
months I collected another sporting trophy or a couple of books for top in History or
English. The biggest problem at this stage was determining what to do later on.
What are you going to be when you’ve grown up? What are you going to do for a career? I keep trying to find something. It’s really is not a problem but after almost forty years I’m now trying very hard. Actually, I’m kind of desperate, although I hate to admit
it. I really don’t admire desperate people and now that I’ve told you it worries me that I even mentioned it. But God knows how hard I have tried. I’ve tried being an Accountant but I much preferred being a Taxi-driver. I’ve run around serving petrol and I’ve run around serving bosses in various offices.
I’ve surveyed salt flats and deserts in the Outback and I’ve surveyed desperate jobless
people in Personnel Consulting in Fleet Street. Milk I’ve delivered on time and Sales orders
I have delivered on time. My total number of different occupations has now exceeded thirty
five. This is really not the problem. I don’t believe that I have a problem but if there is one
(only one?) it is simply that I’ve never been “the Star” everybody told me I’d be! Just
exactly what constitutes a Star I don’t know,which is another problem.
At this stage I’ve outlined only my career problems. Sporting and personal problems
warrant at least an equal amount of space. Football (AFL) was given up for tennis which
made way for surfing. Later on I became very involved with Sky-diving. In between I
managed to improve at golf so I gave up everything else to aim for the top. It was around
this time that I found myself following girls around. The school I had gone to didn’t allow
girls which created another problem for me. I followed girls everywhere. This went on for
years as I didn’t know what else to do with them.
Now I’m forty going on twelve and I work for the local television station. This makes some
people envious but really it’s like working for any factory or computer company.
Recently I threw away all my sporting trophies and I’ve given up pennant squash. I try not
to compete in business, sport or personal affairs. I don’t expect to be a star anymore. I
don’t really know why I have done this as it worries me and is becoming a problem.
Some people are born lucky but I have never been really lucky in any way. Quite the
opposite. Just recently I painted the entire exterior of my house. I had almost completed it
when I discovered I had been using interior paint. Occasionally I have to buy liquid
detergent (or something similar like oil or vinegar) in Woolworths selecting from hundreds
of bottles on the shelves. Quite often the bottle I’ve chosen has emptied its contents all
over me. Once in London during a power strike, desperate for light, I bought a dozen
candles marked “faulty”. They were faulty alright. They had no wicks. Many similar things
have occurred so often that it is no longer a problem. I’m beginning to feel immune to small
accidents. The problem now is worrying each day how I’ll cope with a disaster.
This is the first time in Canberra that I’ve applied to do a course and you requested a small
sample of my writing. So this autobiography is the result. I didn’t really have any intention
of telling you about my problems as they are not in fact problems. At one time, years ago in
London, I applied for a Creative Writing course but unfortunately it was full. As an
alternative they suggested a Motor Mechanic course. I didn’t understand this logic nor did I
find it amusing as I didn’t have a car. Now I hope to complete this Professional Writing
course part time. I would really like to write short stories and try to better express some of
these problems I have.
Canberra A.C.T. - March 1983
Footnote: I wrote the above way back when I was working for CTC 7 the local television
station in Canberra. There was a fierce debate among the producers there at the time
after I was critical of some of the rubbish which came out of the copywriting dept. As a
result I was challenged to write at least five hundred words overnight and present it within
twenty four hours. I wrote this tongue -in- cheek autobiography that night and, after
approval from the chief producer, I was allowed to write the occasional 30 second
commercial. Most of my ads were woeful! How can you get creative and excited when all
the advertiser wants to say is “30% OFF all lighting on display all this week.”
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