The year my voice broke…

Well probably. I speak of 1958 when I turned 15.

1950 Grounds 3

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1959

The guy on the right is one of my 1958 friends, Roger Dye – brilliant athlete

All to introduce the 1958 film Christmas in Australia.

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Yes it is total propaganda and so naive! Here we all are so happy and all middle class without a hint of conflict or any kind of problem. Yet it warms my heart as well. We really ought not patronise our older selves quite so much, don’t you think, even if the following well-intentioned representation of relations with Indigenous Australians makes one cringe…

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On the other hand  the presumably very young YouTube commenter who talks of “a really racist doll” is over-serious I fear. Now if that doll had been not allowed in the house, or kept in the kennel with the dogs maybe then we could seriously call it “racist”… But I am sure it was as loved as any doll could be.

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I worry about what might happen to that bear next… The passing cowboy looks so mean… Seeing the weaknesses of our ancestors can be a trifle easy, don’t you think? Cheap self-righteousness on our part?

Have a good 2011 Christmas anyway, just as we also did in 1958. I was there, remember!

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This morning in West Wollongong.

The Lord Mayor wished me a Merry Christmas at the Yum Yum Cafe this morning.

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