A silly response to Cyranny

On By Richmond Road5 Comments

Gallivant

Writing this in the hire car after returning from another flash visit to the US. Suffering from the depression that comes from a permanent dose of jet lag. Cyranny’s prompt struck a core.

Around the world I gallivant

Then home to you my confidante

Forgive me if I rave and rant

I am an angry little ant

For too long I rock and roll

Time zone changes take their toll

They’ve robbed me of my heart and soul

I’m falling deep into a hole

I did it all for me and you

But now I don’t know what to do

It’s left us both so sad and blue

The end is near, we know it’s true

Pretty Pictures

On By Richmond Road8 Comments

I like looking at photos. Perhaps, in the fading light, I can no longer see all the words, but an image still grabs my attention. I have, this very morning, set up an Instagram account (I don’t really know what to do with it, there’s no pictures on it yet, so don’t bother checking) and I was wondering who of you like-minded souls might have an account that I may follow ….. to look at your pretty pictures and maybe understand you better.

On the other hand, maybe WordPress is just as good as a platform for the same purpose. I don’t know. I don’t know much about anything else either, so I need all the advise I can get.

Graham’s Newsletter

On By Richmond Road14 Comments

I couldn’t resist reposting a exert from a letter which popped into my inbox this morning. My Druitt, in Sydney is viewed by some in the same manner as Compton, Los Angeles. My first ever job, in fact, involved selling encyclopaedias door to door out there. A challenging task, to say the least.

 

Dear Inner Circle,

Wayside’s leadership is passing into good hands. Jon Owen and I were in Mount Druitt this week, helping to make a documentary about our succession. We stopped at multiple locations and always someone recognised Jon, embraced him and tried to catch him up on as much news as they could in a few minutes. Each time we jumped back into the car to head to the next location, Jon shared something of the story of the journey he’d shared with the person we just met. After the first couple of these, I was impressed by the compassion of a man who’d shared the worst of human tragedies with people, without for a moment thinking he’s achieved anything special. In one location, we stopped long enough to hear raised, cranky voices. A woman jumped into a car and before our eyes, ran it into the bloke at whom she was yelling. The car knocked the man to the ground and I’d wondered if he might have broken a leg. He quickly jumped up to his feet in time to kick the bonnet of the car before it sped off down the street. I was momentarily in shock. “In this part of the world,” Jon said, “that was just a negotiation.”