Frank Turney

It was a weekend night. Bob and Bev were there at Gabo Place as they often were after a night at the Fountain Inn, but I remember a lot more people being around than usual. Maybe Elaine, Lynda and Janelle were down from Queensland, but there was a slightly more party-like atmosphere in the house. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen and had already been attacked by a cockroach. It sprang out of one of the cupboards and the f%$ker actually flew ! I never knew they could until that night. Aunty Bev screamed like Mum always used to at moths and lanced out of the way. I think I hightailed it. Whether it was the same cockroach or not we'll never know, but the flyspray was out on the kitchen table later in case it showed up again and it did, scurrying across the table. Dad was sitting closest, so when Mum yelled 'get it with the Mortein, Frank!' he picked up the can and, in his own inimitable style, slammed it down to crush the unsuspecting bug flat.

As it's the silly season, I thought I'd share some stories about Frank and his efforts to play Santa Claus. Ironically I wasn't there to witness either of them, although they've become Turney family lore to the extent I wish I had. The first one was the time Mum and Dad somehow set up a ping pong table (from Santa) in the garage. I can't imagine how my parents so much as even got it out of the box without a near-fatal knifing, let alone set up and ready to use. That one I actually do remember happening. We used to keep boxes of soft drink cans in the garage and bring them up to the kitchen fridge in handfuls to use. I can't remember if I was asleep or not, but I was disturbed by whatever almighty clatter rang out. I remember staggering through the kitchen and opening the back door to see what was going on. It must have alerted them because Mum (probably after some hurried and choice invective about the noise Dad was making) had a ready excuse – she came...

Now I look back on my father's life during the time I've been in the world (from ages 33 to 79), I realise I've never known a man with so little vanity. He was a bit of a classic iconoclastic Aussie bloke who probably would have gone everywhere in thongs and shorts if he could. There's a photo of he and Mum in the lounge room of Gabo Place when we were all on our way out to the Fountain Inn. If I remember it correctly he's wearing these slacks with slightly flared legs and a tiny brown check pattern and a shirt that used to be his going out uniform, a snugly fitting, long sleeve cotton shirt made of soft cotton that was a delectable dark brown colour with muted orange buttons. David used to call it his 'body shirt'. When we were teenagers and used to wear the same thing over and over and he'd say 'when's the operation?' every time the opportunity called for it – like all his jokes. It meant we were wearing something so often it was lik...

There were plenty of constants in Frank's life. One was that nothing made him angry, and the other was that he had a stock set of responses. When he and Mum were having an argument and she said 'p$#s off' he responded (every time) with 'I'll have a whiskey then'. When she told him to get nicked he said (every single time) with 'I have been'. When we were trying to play cricket in the backyard and Amigo kept hanging around wanting to chase and steal the tennis balls (he could fit about five in is mouth, it was like trying to open a vice getting them out and if you did they felt like they'd spent twoyears on the floor of an ocean) and Dad happened to be down near the clothesline or the house we'd say 'can you call the dog Dad?', he'd yell (every single time) 'Dad! Dad!'. He loved the kind of gags that were funny the first three or four times but he stuck with them for way too long. It drove you insane to be on the recei...

Most of you know I have two grandchildren in my life. Amelia just turned six months old so she's like a very cute small animal who smiles at me occasionally and needs lot of care and food but we're not relating to each other as humans so much yet. But since I came back from America last time Lucas and I have become pretty inseparable. He loves coming to our house to the extent that sometimes when I drop him off or say goodbye he cries, which is heartbreaking. He stays over once a week. I pick him up from school and walk home with him, make his lunch the next morning, read to him in bed, tuck him in, and take him to his tae kwon do lesson once a week. We play lots of video games together, watch movies, sometimes we have 'boys nights', when we stay up as late as we want, make microwave popcorn, have whatever he wants for dinner and do whatever we (ie, he) wants to do. I don't know how close he is with any of the kids in his class and he's grown up an only...

Nothing too deep or philosophical on Frank this time – as we all know he wasn't a deep or philosophical man. But he loved beer. Enough of it was consumed in this house; to fill the Mediterranean. And among the most memorable were drunk right here; Yes, for those who were there, there's something wrong with this picture. That big grey outdoor area next to the grass is new. There used to be a legendary in ground pool which is as pivotal a part of my childhood as my family and friends and which I remember being dug out and built with perfect clarity , right down to the rock the size of a Mini Minor they found when they dug out the deep end. I also remember my parents building the stone wall that surrounded the pool on two sides with their own four hands, and though it merely seemed like something grown ups did back then, now I look back it was an astounding achievement for a housewife and a spare parts salesman. When Dad got older and started to either select me...

Every Friday night Dad for years Dad would come home with takeaway dinner after work. I was in my very early teens, so it must have been when he worked at LW Parry in Arncliffe. maybe at the Esso servo in Brighton. He'd get hamburgers with chips from Paul's at Sylvania for the rest of us and barbecue chicken and chips for himself. We'd all sit in front of the TV to eat and watch English comedy shows on ABC like Dave Allen and The Two Ronnies, which was unusual – we were a commercial network household. He'd be in his usual chair adjacent to the door into the hallway with one of the nested tables in front of it for his dinner. There's a photo somewhere of Tiddles reaching up for his plate wanting a piece of his chicken. He'd always buy me a peppermint crisp chocolate bar for after dinner. I don't think I even really liked them a lot – certainly not as much as some other chocolate bars – but he'd got into the habit by then so it was etched in stone. ...