Friday, February 01, 2008

Die Young

It is probably a bit too late for me to die young and beautiful. It certainly is too late for me to die young and I was never beautiful. Awful to hear of young people dying from accidents or cancer or disease.

My father used to hire a machine every so often to spray blackberries on the farm. It was great fun to be covered in the spray of the milky white liquid from the spray tanker attached to the tractor. A mist of DDT is so cooling on a hot day.

This cement sheet stuff is fun. You can jump on the old stuff and break it up. You can saw it into shapes, you can file it into shapes. Even in my and R's first house in Waverley Road, East Malvern, our garage had this cement sheet product and we patched up holes with some sawn pieces. What fun asbestos was.

Trips in the car were always fun for us kiddies, we did not bother that Fa, Ma and Uncle smoked away. Shut the windows please, we would ask, it is cold.

I suppose it is in the genes, but so far, I have survived DDT poisoning, asbestos pollution and passive smoking, ok yes, some active smoking too.

Along with a fondness for the juice of the grape, the fermented hops and the distilled product of barley, it is not a recipe for a long life hey.

I am very close to the age when my father first was diagnosed with cancer. He lasted for about eight years after diagnosis. (Can you get cancer from boredom?)

While I hope to live to be 100 and see Microsoft go bankrupt, cars banned within five kilometres of the city, computers that just work, tv I really like, and the great greenhouse effect reversal, I don't expect I will.

But I would like to know like exactly when. I don't want to run out of money in my old age, but nor do I want to leave a heap to anyone, obviously R excepted. None of my family or friends are rich but nor are any of them really poor. I arrived in this world with a zero bank balance. I hope I can go out that way.


  1. Well then, young Andrew, may I put in an order for a pair of diamond ear rings and a nice dinner..lobster please...there, then you will go out with zero balance, haha.
    I look after many a person age 100, whilst many of them are sharp as a tack and quite able to stick up for themselves, others are not. The ones that are "with it"say that their longevity is from having a glass of sherry/red wine each dinner time, and never let a day go by that you don;t be thankful for. Well, that is what I have discovered, because that is the question I ask them all.

  2. "I hope to live to be 100 and see Microsoft go bankrupt, cars banned within five kilometres of the city, computers that just work, tv I really like, and the great greenhouse effect reversal," - and an endless stream of JahTeh's excess to requirements doe-eyed, long lashed, buffed young lads waiting on you hand and foot (and all stations in between).

    What was it Martin Loofah King said? Oh yes, "I have a dream. Not the one Shirl has, but I know where the boy is coming from."

    Of course you know the Ole Copper One is going to outlive us all.

    Is St. Peter online?

    Wouldn't want to miss one kilobyte of her grumblebumming.

    (And yes, her grumblebum does look big in that!)

  3. Not like the old bugger who I admitted for surgery one arvo only to find he'd brought in $25,000 in CASH with him!
    Quite lucid and had all his marbles, he announced he had every intention of taking it with him LMAO.
    We had to pick his surgeon up off the floor when he saw the pile on the bed!

  4. Sedgwick your life is already enhanced by more pills than can be found in an ordinary footballer but statistics indicate that moi being a superior being, that is, female, will outlive you. I may enjoy a delicate minuet all over your grave.

  5. Ah, so it's the ole Chopin minuet waltz on my grave is it?

    You show me your pan and I'll hide mine under a bushel.

  6. It is a fine balance on how many glasses to have Cazzie. Thankful for each day is thought provoking. Forget the diamonds, but I'll stump up for a lobster for you.

    Doubt Jah Teh would have an excess M'lord. I don't want her exhausted stable. As you can see, she was hot on your tail, so to speak.

    Clearly he was scared of hospital costs Jayne.

  7. I actually think a good dusting of pesticide adds to longevity. At least I hope so otherwise I'll be clocking out early.
    I hope I make enough money to last...
    I hadn't really considered it up until now. Go super fund, go!!

  8. Reminded me of one Jiminy. I was also super phosphated by an air plane.

  9. lol...
    It's funny when you can say things like that "I was also superphosphated by an airplane."
    Not many people can say that Andrew!

  10. You can insert a codicil in your will that I'm bequeathed your capacity to put resonant thoughts into words. Great post.

    I always imagined my record collection would be kept intact by whoever got it. I now realize they'll most likely go to St Vinnie's.

  11. We are an elite then Jiminy. Of course my much older superphosphate was far stronger than yours.

    Yes Lad, I expect your records will go that direction, as will my obsessive photo labelling and battle to keep some sort of order to kept stuff. Thirty years of theatre programs is of interest to anyone? All the holiday paperwork and brochures kept in separate bags over nearly thirty years, straight in the bin. I think they are of interest to some, but matching the interested to what is kept is the problem.

  12. Anonymous9:10 am

    Many moons ago me and Missus M'Lord stood swathed in a mist of Deildrin as we acted as markers for a crop dusting plane which was spraying my stepfather's crops of wheat.

    (Nothing wrong with our daughter ... give or take the odd multiple limb and head.)

  13. Anonymous11:34 am

    Don't we all have those sort of aforementioned hopes and dreams, Andrew.

  14. Ah, M'lord. That explains much.

    Guess we do Reuben. Well, I hope many young people do.