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Allan Gibson of Cherrybrook is “taxing my memory recalling when items would appear in the Herald and other mastheads such as this one from The Age in March 1947 : ‘The Deputy Commissioner of Taxation, Melbourne, has announced the receipt on February 24 of £30 conscience money from an unknown taxpayer’.”
“Unintentional altruist”, Andrew Mowat of Beecroft remembers his own random act of kindness (C8): “Some months ago I went to pay for petrol at a servo/mini-mart, only to stand behind a stooped old(er) bloke having his shopping rung up. When time came to pay, he fumbled with his money clip while juggling his walking cane. At this point, frustration took over. I asked the cashier to add his bill to mine against his protests. Walking out, I noticed a very beaten up old car near the entrance with the door open. Evidently his, and from its contents, I’d guess, his home. I hope my impatience and impetuousness brightened his day.”
Here’s an offering from Rhoda Silber of Manly, for Pete’s sake: “Peter (‘the younger, better-looking doppelgänger for Philip Ruddock’) is delighted that after 32 years of living in Australia, he’s been mentioned in C8, previously reserved for his more famous wife and brother-in-law. Thank you!”
Don Bain of Port Macquarie reckons Joan Baez lookalike, Ellen Kassel “could have fed her accidental admirers a clue by warbling a few lines from Joan’s A Stranger in My Place.” Really? Granny thought the best option would be an excerpt from It Ain’t Me Babe.
Lastly, Ray Witherby of Kings Langley thinks that Speaker of the House of Representatives, Milton Dick, just needs an Akubra to complete the Ian “Molly” Meldrum resemblance. Do yourself a favour and check it out.
“More fuel for the BOM debate,” offers Nicolas Harrison of Evans Head. “Every time I log onto the BOM site, it asks me to enter my ‘current address’. When I do, it tells me I live in Greystanes. I’m sure it’s a nice place, it is just that it’s 700 kms to the south of me.”
Judy Maclean’s “1955 or 1855” dilemma (C8) reminded Michael Payne of West Pymble of the time he was in a pub in Northern Ireland: “I said to a couple of old guys, ‘My great-great-grandfather, Robert Rathborne, left here in 1855. Do any of you remember him?’ The reply was, ‘No, but I do remember his father’.”
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