Boosh
Tahkah
and the
Rain
God
Barry Parham
with
a good story.”
“Maude”
Legion
Club Dinner
Broken
Hill
New
South Wales
Australia
****************************
“No
puh tamoze et linny boosh tahkah,
mike
shure the linny boosh tahkah ihzomin
to
lie.”
Noel
Katherine
Gorge tour
The
Outback
Northern
Territory
Australia
10,000
Breakfasts
Haven’t
slept much the last two nights -- a combination of excitement, some nameless
dread, planning to miss Tierney and two plays I wanted to be in but can’t --
I
go to work for a half-day -- have meetings all morning, then say my good-byes.
No one at work seems to realize that I am heading for Australia...AUSTRALIA,
for God’s sake...I do some last minute speed-shopping, tell my cousin good-bye,
then one last trip to the Dixie for
two-cheeseburgers-plain-mustard-ketchup-and-pickles, then home to finish
packing.
We
leave Greenwood about 2.45pm, a few minutes late. Have packed two cartons of
steams (cigarettes) -- one carton spread throughout baggage (according to our
research, you can only take one carton into Oz). On the drive, we call Kenneth
to buy us some luggage locks and meet us at the Greenville-Spartanburg Airport
- I give Kenneth big grief about having to work, about not being able to join
us in Australia until next week -- one bad, bad mistake -- it backfires
miserably -- he evokes a curse upon us.
The
family is leaving for an extended family vacation into Australia. For a total
of nearly seven weeks. But first -- meet the family.
The
Dad -- the man who pays for the trip. The man whom most deserves the time
away. A doctor, having worked his way up through South Carolina Southern
Baptist poverty to a position of unflagging respect in his industry, family and
community. A man full of hobbies and empty of spare time. A man who conquers
destiny by working late and views fate as a project to be mastered. Bravo.
The
Mom -- beautiful, brilliant slave to the God ‘Travel,’ a relentlessly mature
woman who believes that Heaven and Hell are experienced here on Earth and can
show you either with the mildest arch of eyebrow. The meticulous planner, the
Non-Trivial Pursuit database, the mediator, the Eyes of Moderation. She would
like to operate by the axiom, “If it won’t make a difference in 100 years, then
don’t sweat it,” but I think she really believes that she will be around
in 100 years. Brava.
The
Kenneth -- youngest of three sons, the best adapted sibling for the conquering
of La Chimera Americana. A very successful stockbroker and
Sierra-Club-type-lunatic by age four. Once came home from a vacation with more
money than he had when he left. Nicknamed ‘Calf-Head’ by some of his friends,
he displays an inordinate amount of teeth -- was once delayed by U.S. Customs
who thought he was smuggling in ivory in his mouth. Ironically, years ago,
during family trips across the States, Kenneth used to sing, in this
high-pitched shriek, “Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Boys,” a song the family once
associated with Australia. Bro.
Kenneth is hopelessly married to:
The
Diane -- the daughter-in-law/sister-in-law/buddy-in-law, a bilingual perfect
match for the frenetics of Kenneth. The most comfortable woman I have ever met.
Recently won the Nobel Didn’t-Think-It-Could-Be-Done Prize for marrying
Kenneth. Beautifully fused with Kenneth to the point that I begin to think of
them as “Kenthindie-Ann.”
The
Me -- oldest of three sons, the best adapted sibling for typing. Furiously
addicted to Hershey’s kisses. Constantly irritating to my friends due to use of
words like ‘lanai,’ ‘penultimate’ and obscure references to Frank Zappa.
Taking a month off from my job as Assistant Purchasing Manager for Park Seed, a
mail-order plant and seed company, to go to the other side of the planet.
But
back to the trip. Last Christmas, after the family had distributed all
presents, Dad said there’s one more gift -- it’s out back. So we all went
outside the back door to look. I was thinking a new car for Mom. There was
nothing there.
Dad
said again, “It’s out back.” What? “Outback. We’re going to the Outback.”
Yo...
So,
after Dad’s revelation and nearly eight months of Mom’s planning, we are going
to Australia. I reschedule work so that I can leave with Mom and Dad --
Kenthindie-Ann will join us a week later. I will get to stay for almost four
weeks, Mom and Dad will be gone for seven, including three weeks in New
Zealand.
Yo...
This
is a journal of The Family and Their visit to Australia (“Oz,” as it is often
called in Australia). Directly transcribed from on-the-spot notes (more
or less), it does not promise poetry, it answers very few cosmic questions, it
may be a bit hard to follow in places, but will hopefully provide a glimpse
into the journey, minute-by-minute, mile-by-mile.
But
much more importantly, I didn’t feel like rewriting the whole damn thing...