Story Archive
- THREE GENTLE STORIES IN THE AGE OF TRUMP
- THE STAGE - FINALLY I AM ON IT
- BROKEN
- THE ROAD
- THE WEIGHT OF THINGS
- RANDOM THOUGHTS AND ACHING BONES
- FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD
- Vale Tommie
- A BIG WALK - Step by Step
- IN DEFENCE OF NIMBIN
- SLEEPING WITH THE ANGELS
- THE LADY BUSHRANGER
- OUT OF THE SHIRE
- THE SOUND OF RAIN
- AND SO IT BEGINS - The Great Australian Crawl.
- NO MANS LAND
- THE FROG IN THE TOILET BOWL
- LEN BENCE - THE ARTIST WARRIOR
- SWAGMAN IN SEARCH OF A CONCEPT
- THE GERMAN ABORIGINAL
- NOT LONG NOW
- LOTS OF THINGS COMING
- DAD'S COMING
- THE BEING LEFT ALONE FEELING
- YES - I STOLE THE CHOCOLATE
- THE OLD COAT
- THE PARTY
- MEMORIES
- DOG WALKING IN A CEMETERY
- MY KENNEL IS GOING UNDER THE HAMMER!
- DAD'S BACK
- THE BIG CHILL
- THINGS HAPPEN THAT YOU DON'T KNOW WILL HAPPEN
- THE NEW KENNEL
- ALFRED STIEGLITZ - THE ELOQUENT EYE
- AN IDEA FOR DINGO DAY!
- THE GARDENS OF STONE
- DON'T RAGE AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT!
- MOTHER'S DAY
- TODAY
- THE NIGHT LINDA JAIVIN DROPPED ME
- Old Nana
- SIMPATICO
- Nuggets
- THE WUFFINGTON POST-2
- C-C-C-C-CHANGES
- THE WUFFINGTON POST-1
- MAKE MY DAY
- A NEW YEARS DAY LIKE ANY OTHER!
- RECIPES FROM OLD SOULS
- A DOG'S CHRISTMAS
- Well this is Christmas!
- MY NEW BOOK IS COMING!
- OLD MAN - OLD GRIEF
- GOD - WHAT A FORTNIGHT WE'VE HAD
- WILLIAM-JAMES HAS ARRIVED
- CAESAR'S ISLAND
- I HAVE LOST MY EAR-ECTION
- BUSTED IN BOULIA
- YEE HAA! ITS THE HARTS RANGE RACE DAY
- TRULY ... THERE WERE ANIMALS EVERYWHERE
- Old Man Hermann
- THERE IS AN ART TO BEGGING
- ROLL UP -- ROLL UP - ITS THE TRAVELING R&R SHOW
- MOLLY & ME
- EDITING A LIFE
- BUZZ ... BABBLE ... BUBBLE ... BURRA ... BACKHOUSE
- THE MAGIC KENNEL & ROAD TRAINS WITHOUT CATTLE
- I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHERE TO START
- CREATIVE DRIVES - BEAUTIFUL VOICES - MISSIONARY PLAINS.
- WHAT A WEEK WE'VE HAD
- I'VE GOT A MAN CRUSH ON BEN HALL
- GOING GOING GOING ..... GONE
- I LOVE WRITING ABOUT SNIFFING & EATING
- THE DIVING BELL & THE BUTTERFLY
- ROADIES, GERMANS & A JAPANESE ADVENTURER
- THE MAD DASH
- MY NEW COAT
- DOES DAD THINK I'M STUPID?
- THE ITALIAN PENTHOUSE
- I AM POWERLESS OVER COWS
- ON THE EDGE OF THE WORLD
- COMING HOME
- BLOG ON BLOGGING - THREE MONTHS WRAP
- ROLLING OVER
- CONTACT & THE DINGO
- SAD BUT BEAUTIFUL
- VICTORY WITHOUT TRIUMPH IN HAY
- ALISON HUNT - SENIOR DESERT WOMAN
- I AM NOT ANGRY - JUST A LITTLE DISSAPOINTED
- HOLIDAY WITH THE CHOOKS
- EAGLE HAWK NECK
- MAX IN HAHNDORF
- WHAT ABOUT THE HANDSOME PEOPLE?
- DRUGS & RADISHES
- MY NAME is TOM AND I AM AN OVER EATER
- BOGGED AND STRANDED
- BUTT NAKED IN MORGAN
- ON THE ROAD AGAIN
- The CHEF, the ABORIGINALS, the BLOND & the BULL
- A SADHU OF THE OUTBACK
- CONDOMS & BIRD SEED
- TOMMIE, STEVE AND KIRA
- ADELAIDE AND BACK
- GUNNING READY OR NOT
- AN IDEA IS ANSWERED
- TOMMIE
WHAT ABOUT THE HANDSOME PEOPLE?

Raymond
Hay NSW
You know when you are alone and your mind goes into crazy places and you think "Thank God no one knows what I am thinking" Well. This is the first of the series of
THANK GOD NO ONE KNOWS WHAT I AM THINKING.
I have never really had the ability to NOT say what I am thinking, maybe it's a form of Terretes without the swearing. Yes that's it. I have a "condition" and all these years I just thought I was incredibly rude. Turns out I needed help.
Anyway, the cafe in the little country town of Hay where Tommie and I awaited for the flood waters to subside has a huge screen upon which music videos are played. Great stuff. The Best of the Beatles. Old episodes of Countdown. As I tucked into my eggs a 10 song Bee Gees video commenced.
There are two things that immediately strike you when you listen to the Bee Gees. That's if you can put the Hee Bee Gee Bees who did "Meaningless Songs in Very High Voices" out of your mind. [video below]
Firstly, how brilliant the songs are. We can admit it now. I mocked them like everyone else as I sat discussing spirituality or left wing politics but my feet were tapping.
Secondly, how incredibly unattractive they were. It was like dentures meets Homo Sapiens. I know that sounds awful but I warned you.
Suddenly another thought came out of nowhere like one of Maurice Gibb's high pitched screams. How lucky these guys really were. From the moment they leant how to crawl without using their teeth, they must have been aware of the family resemblance to a sabre-toothed tiger. I have never seen pictures of their parents but you could only imagine that they BOTH had buck teeth. No single gene could be THAT dominant.
At no stage then could the Bee Gees rely on their looks. I imagine family meetings where their buck-toothed mother explained the facts of life.
"Boys, if you want to "stay alive" you will need to become incredibly good at something."
"Yes mum" they would reply, the words whistling through their teeth like wind through a desert canyon.
I haven't used Photoshop on the photo above. I didn't need to. The Gibb's teeth were not embarrassingly airbrushed out. They were a SELLING POINT. Note how dejected the non-Gibbs are. Mouths shut tight as if ashamed of their modest molars. In this world size matters.
Not only did the Bee Gees become hugely successful despite their physical limitations [or excesses depending which way you look at it ], they became "sex symbols." Well sort of. In their case it's the attraction of success rather than aesthetics but you still get laid.
Stay with me. Remember this is the THANK GOD NO ONE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE REALLY THINKING section.
We know that everyone's looks fade over time except for the Bee Gees because theirs never existed. Ultimately we all end up looking like mashed zucchini.
Now how can I say this without sounding conceited. I used to be very handsome. I am talking really, really handsome. I pulled more chicks than a hyperactive poultry farmer on speed.
But I, like Blondie and Stevie Nicks, have had my day. My looks are now a vague echo of my past glory, like a faded sign that says "it went that way."
At the age of 59 I have to learn how to live like a plain or ugly person, relying on character and personality rather than a seductive look or a handsome faraway sigh. Quite frankly it's very hard.
From a cafe in Hay I make a plea. Lets have a little sympathy for the handsome people as their faces start to go through the grinder and they face unattractiveness with all the skill of a child on their first day at school.
I didn't ask to be born gorgeous.
No one gave me massive teeth as a life lesson or a voice higher than a swagman's armpit. Now I know what the Gibb's meant when they sang:
I started a joke, which started the whole world crying,
but I didn't see that the joke was on me, oh no.
I started to cry, which started the whole world laughing,
oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.