3 months ago
18
Rob Watson, of Myocum (C8), isn’t the only Rob Watson to experience the officiousness of Checkpoint Charlie: “My husband, also Rob Watson, was at Checkpoint Charlie in 1981,” reports Mary Watson of Balgowlah Heights. “He made it through, but the guy in front was detained because he had a book of T.S. Eliot’s poetry with him.”
“A few years back, crossing from Estonia into Russia, we were advised not to speak to the stony faced Russian border guards,” recalls Janet Bates of Neutral Bay. “When our little group fronted up to have our documents checked, I noticed a dead pigeon hanging on the wire fence. I asked the guard if the pigeon talked and was rewarded with much laughter and back slapping. Goes to show that a little humour sometimes breaks down the barriers.”
“While Robert Hosking is furious with Travis Head for denying Robert the third day of the first Test [C8], I’ve managed to console myself with the sheer joy of reading the inimitable English press taking apart the English team, a guaranteed consequence of such a shellacking,” writes John Elmgreen of Mosman. “And don’t you love that Geoffrey Boycott?”
“Could the salt that Stephanie Edwards [C8] spotted have been for Pauline to throw over her shoulder to ward off evil spirits?” ponders Peter Miniutti of Ashbury. “If so, it doesn’t appear to have worked, as it would seem that Barnaby is joining her party.” Conversely, Brian Kidd of Mount Waverley (Vic) suggests it’s a warning that Barnaby “take her cooking with a grain of salt”.
“That Saxa shaker bothered me too, Stephanie, but in the context of decorum,” says Donna Wiemann of Balmain. “Given the personalities of the diners, however, it seemed fitting. Brought back a saying of my late grandmother when describing loud, bossy, boorish people: ‘More arse than class’. Pardon the French please, Granny.”
Col Begg of Orange advises that he hasn’t seen Warwick Sherman’s (C8) Kona SILNCE number plate. “However, seen locally, a Volvo electric vehicle with the number plate VOLTVO. Driver sans hat and cardigan.”
“Most early mornings, a regular walker passing by Wendy Whiteley’s Secret Garden at Lavender Bay can be spotted frantically twirling his cap above his head,” advises Edward Loong of Milsons Point. “He’s no weirdo, but simply someone seeking protection from a resident butcher bird who persists in routinely swooping on him. Trust me, I know – it’s me!”
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