CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | CONTACT
Despite the fact that he grew up in very similar socio-economic circumstances to the ones he provided his own children with, local dad Peter Stretton (58) talks about his upbringing as though his area was a failed state.
“In my day we had to walk 20 miles barefoot just to get to school” he said.
“In the snow!”
His children decide against asking him why there was snow in regional Queensland when he was younger, only to hear about the perils of communism and how their dad nearly got sent to fight in Vietnam at 9-years-old.
Mr Stretton makes a point of telling his children how lucky they have it.
“You lot don’t understand, this area was fucking rough I tell you”
His oldest son, Angus, intervenes.
“Dad didn’t you spend your holidays at Thredbo as a kid”
Dad bites back.
“Thredbo wasn’t what it is now. It was a rough old town back then. We used to have to fight every day, just to survive”
His son continues his line of questioning.
“Why the hell did your parents drive 400 kilometres to take you to a skiing town where you had to fight people?”
“Because it was good for us! You lot wouldn’t understand. You’ve had it too easy.”
Dear Sirs,
As a Western Australian who has lived a jolly adventurous existence, I give a hearty three cheers to you lads for rooting out this nonsense and publically shaming scoundrels like this simpering Stretton ninny. Well done you.
I grew up as a street urchin during the Regency, and let me tell you they were the easiest and the happiest times of my life. Mention typhoid to any young people today and it’s all “Get the fuck away from me” or “OMG” or “You’re mad you crazy, weird cunt – you do know that don’t you?”, but when I was a grubby-faced nipper in rags and no shoes it was like living in a world of fantasy always watching people falling over in the street writhing in their death throes and coughing-up green slime and then being nimble and fleet-footed enough to rifle through their possessions and escape before the soldiers arrived and loaded the corpse onto a cart and took it away. What child who was there can honestly say those weren’t halcyon days to attain your manhood in and learn such skills that would see you right for life? I certainly can’t.
This sort of well-adjusted, practical upbringing held me in good stead when I first came to the Colony years ago. If you were feeling cold, a brisk thrashing would always warm you up; if you were a bit mopey and down-in-the-dumps, then firing off a few musket rounds at natives could always be relied upon to cheer you up; if you felt the world was against you and the authorities were closing in, you jolly-well got up off your arse and went out and found a Chinaman to shift the blame onto – this was how any man worth his salt progressed from scrawny youth into blathering maturity when I was young.
Youngsters like this Stretton chap are soft-cock fools who wouldn’t know a tough upbringing if one crawled up their trouser leg and turned their privates gangrenous. You are right to expose their lies and their fables to the world – it helps those of us who have genuine stories to share to do so in a climate free of scepticism and mistrust.
Regards
Ron Muppet
Muppet, are you some sort of degenerate pretending to be a psycho-coot and getting off on this crap?. Are you a one-handed typist?.
Bravo Ron Muppet! A quality rant if ever I saw one. These Millennials I tell you…