I’m getting less flexible as I get older, and I’m not talking about hamstrings.

Friday, 29 September 1995  1:44pm

Hey Sis,

My neighbours kept me awake ’til all hours last night, arguing and cussing.  It wouldn’t have kept me so late if the dividing wall wasn’t so cold against my cheek (tee hee)  The girl won, it was her house, so she could throw him out. Lordy me there was lots of swearing “Get the fuck out you cunt!  Get the fuck out, get away from me! Get the fuck out!” Oh it went on and on. It was ace! I was glued to the wall trying to osmotize the passion of a lovers’ quarrel.

Before that it was Nirvana Unplugged on Rage Music.  Whenever I see him on TV, I always look at his mouth and his nice even teeth and think “that’s where he put the gun”.  Saint Kurt, who died not for our sins, but for our sorrows.  That said, there were one or two absolute stinkers in the set.  I mean, respect to the dead and all, but he absolutely murdered “Pennyroyal Tea”, though “Jesus don’t want me for a Sunbeam” was nice.

Got the first proof of Volume Tow of “Who the Fuck Cares” today.  Had a look, figured out what was missing from it and gave it back to Ross the Computer Man.  Hopefully I’ll get it back by 5pm so I can have a squiz over the weekend. Just a little squiz, I don’t intend to go overboard this year.  Anyway, hopefully Mum will come over and help me with my backyard plants.  I want to have a veritable rainforest out there by the time you get here.


Monday, 2 October 1995  8:45am

Howdy.  It’s proofing week, so I won’t be writing much.  Matter of fact, I think I’ll only be able to squeeze it in before or after hours.  Let’s see….

Friday was Simon’s going away drinks.  It was good, I got jolly, but paced myself.  I didn’t do anything too bad, apart from talking to this girl for probably 5 minutes too long.  You know how there’s a limit to how long you can chat to someone you’ve just met.  I just exceeded it, and provoked the rapacious inquiries of my workmates “So J. Who’s your lady friend?”


Monday, 9 October 1995 2:47pm

You know Sis, I think I’m getting less flexible as I get older, and I’m not talking about hamstrings.  I was sitting over the road reading this so far tedious book on Sartre by de Beauvoir, and it occurred to me.  It occurred how I don’t flip over for people as much as I used to.  My strategy of old was to (When first meeting someone) agree with everything they said, in a toned down way, and then provide a matching opinion couched in my own terms.  For example, someone might tell me some story about how they thing it’s Somalia’s fault they’re all starving.  I would agree in a wishy-washy way (“Yeah, I know what you mean”) and then tell some story about the evil war-lords stealing all the food from aid workers to feed their militias.  I would do this until I knew the person inside out, until I knew their ideas so well that I could contradict them safely.  But these days, if I meet someone whose ideas seem odious to me, I tend to just shut up and avoid them.  It’s like I can’t be bothered anymore. I’m not sure whether this is a good or bad thing.  Society honors consistency of opinion very highly (A bit too highly if you ask me – that’s why people stick to their guns even when they know they’re wrong.  Ralph Waldo Emerson said “Foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” That’s about the only quote I can ever remember.  I’m getting off the point.)  So this disinterest in masking my own disagreeable opinions until I’m sure it’s safe to expose them and win over my peers is waning.  This could be a strengthening of my idea of self, you know – having the courage of my convictions.  Then again, it could be a slackening of my interest in people in general, that if they don’t mesh with my ideas, I can’t be bothered herding their flock of sheep of ideas into my corral.  What do you think?




Paint dockets Oct 1995


3 thoughts on “I’m getting less flexible as I get older, and I’m not talking about hamstrings.

  1. Saint Kurt, who died not for our sins, but for our sorrows.

    This line is absolutely brilliant!

    As for our previous conversation about your brother becoming a writer… There is no doubt in my mind that through your efforts of publishing his writing online that you absolutely made your brothers dream of becoming the writer he always wanted to be. This coming from someone who has had photography and writing published many times over the years, I like to think that I speak with some authority.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Tom, that means so much to me, thank you. I have been blogging J’s writings for almost a year now. Clearly I am just putting it all in order and re-typing it so there is no ‘writers block’ for me as real writers like yourself, must experience from time to time. As ‘the re-teller’ I seem to have emotional humps instead. At times it’s exhausting reliving it all – hearing J’s voice in my head and now seeing the pain in between the lines I didn’t fully see back when I received his letters. Asking myself, am I doing the right thing? Is anyone reading this? Will people see and understand J as he really was through his writings? So many questions always in my head as my fingers dance on and on and on. You finding this blog and offering your advice and your appreciation of J’s writings has truly helped shove (and I mean SHOVE) me over an emotional hump I have really been struggling with. Thinking should I just stop for a few months, should I stop altogether. I thank you so much for taking the time you have to read all the posts and for shoving me up and over a big hump. I keep saying in my head now ‘Tom says I made J a writer, J is a writer, J IS A WRITER’.
      You are kind and I am grateful.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You should never stop! Ever. You are giving your brother the greatest gift that anyone could give to any writer. And by putting his writing online you are preserving his legacy and his gift for all time. I can assure you that people are reading these posts, I know that I am.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s