THE PARADE OF THE PRETENTIOUSLY PRETENTIOUS

Gympie's Kidd Bridge..(once known as the "Channon Street Bridge - from 1893 until 1961)

River Heads, Hervey Bay

Fraser Island

75 Mile Beach, Fraser Island

Two of my staff on the little Topper doing a bit of "sailing" on the resort's pool (They copped a serve, too!)

Along with other myriad sage words of advice given by our mother and grandmother, and the many Life’s lessons my brother and I were taught by the same good women, we were told not to be show-offs; not to make exhibitions of ourselves in public, or, for that matter, in private.  We were taught there was nothing attractive about being a blowhard...prudent lessons to live one’s life by...even nowadays. 

I still recoil and walk away if I find myself in the presence of a show-off.  They receive no acclamation or applause from me.

When we were little kids, along with other interested parties of varying ages, often during Gympie’s many floods, my brother and I stood in awe alongside our Nana* while we watched the rapidly running Mary River increase in height as it wantonly immersed the Channon Street Bridge. 

(The Channon Street Bridge, which was christened such in 1893, since 1961 has been known as the "Kidd Bridge").

The quickly-flowing water was on its way, via Maryborough, to River Heads. There it would empty into the Great Sandy Strait where Fraser Island basks in peaceful repose. 

(The 1976 movie "Eliza Fraser", starring Susannah York and Trevor Howard https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eliza_Fraser_(film) was about Fraser.  In 1836 Eliza Fraser and her husband became shipwrecked on an island, and lived with the island's Aboriginals for a time....henceforth, the island was the named - "Fraser Island" )

Mary River’s source is at Booroobin, west of Landsborough. Quite a major system, the river travels approx., 226kms before reaching its final destination.  

Our entertainment pleasures were simple in those days of the Fifties - and cheap! 

One such day while watching the rising river, a plump, freckled, ruddy-faced, ginger-haired kid skylarked on his bike among the crowd. He was being a damn nuisance, and an idiot.

Acting like he was the star attraction he was ignorant to the fact he sprayed people with muddy water; that they were forced to move to dodge his grandstanding behaviour.

He wasn’t getting his kicks on Route Sixty-Six, but on Channon Street. He wasn’t wary of the Mary!

Nudging my brother and me, Nana whispered quietly: “He’s just showing-off! He’ll soon come to a sticky end. He’ll get his just desserts!”  

As if on cue, seconds after Nana’s prediction the kid hit an unexpected hole or a disguised impediment of sorts. 

Gurgle!  Splutter! Splutter! He and his bike ended up in the drink, sucked under as if by quicksand.

Unharmed, he soon re-surfaced even ruddier of face.

While everyone watched on in amusement he left meekly with his wet tail between his legs. No sympathy was offered.  Muffled laughter could be heard, instead.  Witnessing the would-be circus clown make a spectacle of himself on his bicycle had been an unexpected delight.  

It served him right for being a show-off. Maybe he learned an important lesson from his embarrassment. 

Do show-offs get embarrassed? 

There’s always a schoolyard show-off.  They’re everywhere; schoolyard or not; no matter what the age. 

Run for your life! Nowhere is safe from the braggarts.

If or when we showed signs of getting too big for our boots we were promptly and firmly told to wake up to ourselves. Either that or we were taken to Quatie’s Shoe Shop to be fitted for a new pair of shoes!

When I was managing the resort on Hinchinbrook Island I had three guests who have remained in my mind because they were inglorious poseurs.

One boasted, without humility, he was Melbourne’s most eligible bachelor. These words of self-praise were uttered within 30 minutes of his arrival at the resort!  His announcement didn’t alter my opinion of him.  Figuratively speaking I sent him to a shoe store for a down-sizing.  

Another, adorned in gold chains, glistening, perfectly-formed white teeth, waxed chest and fake tan believed he was the greatest thing since sliced bread.  He soon became toast. 

I had to laugh when I heard a couple of weeks after his departure from the island that Ansett Airlines (I knew I had a few good reasons for liking that now-defunct (sadly) airline company) misplaced his luggage.  I'd hoped the pompous clown's luggage ended up in Bombay, the official name in the city in 1986.  In 1995 Bombay's name changed to "Mumbai".  (Perhaps Ansett sent the luggage there on purpose!  three cheers to Ansett)!

Another likely lad (read “cocky lad”) thought he was too grand to follow the resort’s simple safety guidelines.  Hijacking our small sailing craft, one similar in size to a Hobie Cat, he headed far out to sea.  In the dark of night a staff member had to rescue the fool. 

Upon his safe return I rewarded the arrogant buffoon with a serve.  The serve I gave him wasn’t his dinner, either. It might have given him indigestion for the rest of the evening, though.  Hardly a word came out of his mouth during the rest of his stay.  He didn’t go sailing again, either.  I doubt he even swam in the resort pool!   After the reprimanding he richly deserved from his little adventure, he was very meek, mild and well-behaved!  He was a fellow in his late 20s-early 30s; he should have known better.

  

Egos are like balloons; easy to inflate, fun to deflate!


*“Nana” is the name we called our grandmother...and that was/is our spelling of the name.  We never spelled it “Nanna”.

Parsnip-Parmesan-Sage Bread: Sift 225g S.R. flour and 1-1/2tsp salt into a large, roomy bowl. Coarsely grate 175g peeled parsnips into flour; toss around a bit; add 50g cubed Parmesan and 2tbs chopped fresh sage. Lightly beat 2 large eggs and 1tbs milk; add to ingredients, a little at a time, mixing evenly with flat-bladed knife, making a rough, loose, sticky dough. Transfer to well-greased baking sheet; pat gently into 15cm rough round; make a cross over top with blunt side of knife; scatter surface with Parmesan shavings and a sprinkling of flour. Dip a few whole sage leaves into olive oil; scatter over bread; bake in preheated 190C oven, 45-50mins, until golden and crusty; serve warm.

Sweet Potato-Sage Bread:  Stir to dissolve, 4-1/2tsp active dry yeast in 1-3/4c lukewarm water. Mash cooked sweet potatoes to make 1 cup. Place in bowl with 1/2c softened butter, 1/3c honey, 1 egg, 2tsp salt, 2-1/2c whole-wheat flour and 1-1/2tbs chopped fresh sage leaves; mix with spatula until smooth; stir in enough white bread flour to form a soft dough. Turn dough onto floured surface; dough will be very sticky. Continue adding bread flour while kneading until dough is tacky, but doesn’t stick to fingers; knead about 10mins, until elastic. Spray a clean bowl with oil; add dough; leave to rise until doubled in bulk. Punch dough down; divide into half; shape into oval loaves; place in two greased 9x5-inch loaf pans; cover; let rise until doubled. Bake in preheated 190C oven, 30-35mins.

Pretentious BLT: Whisk together 4 eggs, 3/4c cream and 1/4c chopped chives; season. Lay 4x1-inch thick crusty bread slices in mixture; soak each side, 3mins. Add butter to large pan; when sizzling add bread; cook 3-4mins per side. Serve spread with avocado; topped with lettuce, tomato slices and crisp bacon rashers.  

 

Booroobin...the source of the Mary River.