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Most of you will be aware of the famous “Up” Series of documentaries that has followed the lives of fourteen British children since 1964, when they were seven years old. The children were selected to represent the range of socio-economic backgrounds in Britain at that time, with the explicit assumption that each child’s social class predetermines their future. Every seven years, the director, Michael Apted, films new material from as many of the fourteen he can get to participate. The latest film, 49 up, was released in September 2005.
I’ve grown up with these people and have watched every series charting the evolution of these individual lives. But the question I have often asked myself is “why every seven years, why not every 5 or 8 or 10 years”? The answer to that question, I have only recently realised, is, because by age 7, most of our cognitions are established. An old Jesuit priest saying of, "Give me the boy at 7 and I will show you the man”, serves to underscore this belief.
Think back for a moment, to when you were 7. For some of you that will be way back but for nearly all of us, this was a time of transition from egocentric child to beginning awareness of human behaviour and the complexities of life.
I recall being taken to my first restaurant meal at age 7. It was Mother’s Day 1967, and we, [my parents and I], were to dine at the Royal Coach Motor Inn on Dequetteville Terrace. At the time I recall this being difficult to process because I had never even seen inside a hotel, let alone dined in one. As was the case with most families at the time, there wasn’t the finances to indulge in such luxuries and outings of this nature were an absolute rarity.
And so I remember, with distinct clarity, everything about this momentous occasion. I must have looked sharper than a rat with a gold tooth dressed in my purple corduroy suit, matching paisley shirt and gold neckerchief complete with brass ferrule luminously contrasting my shock of white curls that framed my heavily freckled face and, all the while wearing a look of wonder and expectant delight. On arrival, I recall being impressed by the waiters, who all stood to attention, with napkins draped over their forearms. I remember ordering a “Mixed Grill” that was, so the menu advised me, a plate full of sausages and chops and chips and bacon and egg and fried tomato – and all on the same plate!
This was going to be a magical evening. And so it was, until I offered to make my parents a cup of coffee. In an area just off the main dining room, a self serve beverage table had been prepared with 30 or so cups on saucers but when I looked for the coffee, I couldn’t find it, I could smell it but I couldn’t find it. All that was on the table was a tall shiny cylinder, much the same as I’d imagined a robot might look, with a lid that was very hot to touch. I lifted the “robot’s” hat and sure enough, pre mixed coffee bubbling away inside….but how to get it out?
Dipping a cup into “Robo Coffee” didn’t make sense as I was likely to get burnt and/or make a mess - neither of which was likely to get me a second invitation to dinner. On closer examination I discovered what appeared to be a tap on Robee’s side near his base. Aha I thought, this was it, and promptly proceeded to turn the tap as you would a tap in a kitchen sink. Turn, turn, turn….nothing. Turn, turn, turn….nothing. Turn, turn, turn….still nothing. I was about to give up when following one last turn……. the whole tap came off in my hand and coffee started to flow quickly into the cup I held beneath Robee’s orifice, “warning, warning, danger, danger Will Robinson”, I silently screamed. Panic set in, the cup quickly filled and I replaced it with another - and then another, and another, and another - all the time wanting my Mum to come and rescue me but, having temporarily lost the capacity for speech, I just kept on filling and watched in horror as my shiny new friend morphed into a hideous alien monster disembowelling itself from the exit wound I had just created.
At one point a kindly old woman came up to me, and in my moment of despair said “you’re a good boy, pouring everyone’s coffee for them” and promptly picked up one of the recently filled cups and returned to her table. I subsequently renamed her, the rancorous old sow and secretly imagined the coffee cup saucers levitating from the table, flying across the room and smashing into her magnificently coiffured purple skull.
Eventually, my Mother came to investigate why it was taking me so long to return to our table and on seeing the chaos I had created, she just laughed, took control of the situation, replaced the tap and explained how an urn worked, following which we quickly made our escape. In all, I filled twenty three cups with coffee during that encounter and, more pertinently, was introduced to the alien within.
I had, for the first time in my life, at age 7, experienced the juxtaposition of opportunity and embarrassment, the opportunity to learn from new experiences and the embarrassment of making a public mistake. I learnt that an “urn” was not only a place where you keep the ashes of the dead – it is also a repository for coffee and, on this occasion, the over confidence of the living dead and, had my mother not been so supportive that is where I probably would have ended up, in an urn, dead with embarrassment!
And so on Sunday, and because Mothers are those wonderful people who can get up in the morning before the smell of coffee, share a cuppa with your Mum and tell her a good yarn about your childhood that will bring back precious memories and make her laugh. And in celebration, we invite all of you mum’s to enter our Mother’s Day Competition, which is being run to coincide with the break in the AFL footy season this week.
Our featured article this week brings to the attention of our readers a special report in The Weekend Australian about South Australia’s Boom Town economy. We also introduce two new "Employee Hot Prospects", which can be accessed from the "hot chilli" link at right and, announce the winner of our Round 7 Footy Tipping Competition.
To one and all, we wish you a very Happy Mother’s Day.
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