31.12.00
We go to a party at Dereck’s place.
Dereck an expert on Anglo-Zulu wars. Collects
bullets, horse shoes, metal from scenes of battles in Natal. Jimmy met him when he was in South Africa
combing battle fields.
A Londoner who loves British history. Knows
all the little streets which haven’t changed. Old gas lights. Wants to show us
around.
People look English. Mannerisms and actions.
Indefinable.
Fireworks in the backyard. A long narrow yard
going to a shed.
Fireworks are big, powerful and exploding
colorfully. Big variety. At times
frightening. I think like an Aussie. I think of what could go wrong. You cannot
buy fireworks like this In Australia without a license.
A hundred pounds of fireworks goes up in smoke
in a few minutes. Around us other yards send their fireworks up into the air.
Food is sausage rolls, chicken pieces,
sausages, fritters and hamburgers. Which gets colder and colder. I pinch a
mandarin siting on the mantlepiece. Not part of the smorgasbord.
Back home from the party
Jimmy: I don’t think I’ll ever fit into this country.
My aspirations are so different. They are happy so their kids leave school at
16. Not interested in tertiary education. The kid’s bedroom has new TV. HiFi
each. In primary school. Can’t afford to put the heating on.
Jimmy: You know what really pisses me off.
Today took a sickie to prepare for the party but 1/1 with double time no way
he’ll be sick. Crawl over broken glass.
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