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Authors: Brian Robertson, Ron Smallwood
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as those who will not see or in this case—cannot see their own backside! And the truth of the matter was that Gabriel had gradually been getting wider of late, courtesy of one of the lady bowlers who always supplied delicious chocolate cake for morning tea after each bowling session. Gabriel regularly ate two portions.
Well, Gabriel was successfully extricated from between the jaws of the toilet seat rails and in due course the carpet bowls continued but this was the most expensive morning in terms of reputation that Gabriel had ever had to suffer.
Later that morning Helga learned from one of the bowlers exactly what had happened. Without evoking too much lavatorial imagery the gentleman was able to explain that Gabriel had found it rather easier to sit down than to stand up again and was caught, vice like, in the grip of the side rails. The man explaining this to Helga did not go into the detailed procedures of extrication but suffice to say it involved soap, the application of the laws of Newtonian physics (well known to one retired physics lecturer in Gabriel’s team), a great deal of organisation and much physical effort!
Even more difficult however was the writing of the Health and Safety Committee report, which took Gabriel hours of effort before conceding that it was beyond him because it made him ill to think about what was required to be written in this document.
Gabriel resigned from the health and safety committee the following morning solving problems for several people no less than those of the man himself!
A Health and Safety Audit
Helga needed the Village support
To receive a positive Audit Report
But Gabriel’s lack of agility
Liz Waverly’s mode of mobility
The result - who would ever have thought
Bob’s Return to the Party
Port and cheese night—men only, was Bob’s favourite village activity. He was past the fleetness of foot and fitness required for table tennis or even carpet bowls and now required a walking aid. Anyhow why would you spend effort and breath in such activity when you could use it to tell a good story! Bob loved story telling, and not just telling stories, he was also a very good listener and encouraged the less extrovert of the men in the village to also tell stories.
He and wife Jennifer also attended the occasional village dinner night, to which of course all were invited. Bob savoured the after dinner conversation in mixed company, but perhaps not quite so much as he enjoyed the port and cheese nights. He felt he had more freedom to indulge in his full repertoire if the company was male only.
As Bob would often explain during part of the warming-up process, with first glass of port in hand, “There is innuendo and references in stories that men tell to other men that most women would not understand and most certainly wouldn’t approve of.”
Bob was also aware that no matter what one’s lot in working life had been, there were always associated stories. He was expert at prising stories from the more reticent of the men.
“Okay so you were a plumber. Don’t tell me you have no story. Tell us about the time the wife didn’t have the money to pay and what you were offered instead. There must be a million good stories like that—come on man!” And Bob would tease and jostle the men who claimed no story telling skill until they had spilt the beans about some situation or other. It never bothered Bob that their stories were badly told, so long as he could get them started. He was effusive in his praise no matter what the story and the amazing fact was that these blokes (including the plumber) suddenly had many stories and at subsequent meetings their story telling skill improved immensely. So everyone relied on Bob to keep the group going and the stories rolling.
Bob was a fighter pilot in the Second World War and spent his subsequent working life as a Qantas pilot. He had an abundance of interesting and very amusing stories—places he had been, people
Well, Gabriel was successfully extricated from between the jaws of the toilet seat rails and in due course the carpet bowls continued but this was the most expensive morning in terms of reputation that Gabriel had ever had to suffer.
Later that morning Helga learned from one of the bowlers exactly what had happened. Without evoking too much lavatorial imagery the gentleman was able to explain that Gabriel had found it rather easier to sit down than to stand up again and was caught, vice like, in the grip of the side rails. The man explaining this to Helga did not go into the detailed procedures of extrication but suffice to say it involved soap, the application of the laws of Newtonian physics (well known to one retired physics lecturer in Gabriel’s team), a great deal of organisation and much physical effort!
Even more difficult however was the writing of the Health and Safety Committee report, which took Gabriel hours of effort before conceding that it was beyond him because it made him ill to think about what was required to be written in this document.
Gabriel resigned from the health and safety committee the following morning solving problems for several people no less than those of the man himself!
A Health and Safety Audit
Helga needed the Village support
To receive a positive Audit Report
But Gabriel’s lack of agility
Liz Waverly’s mode of mobility
The result - who would ever have thought
Bob’s Return to the Party
Port and cheese night—men only, was Bob’s favourite village activity. He was past the fleetness of foot and fitness required for table tennis or even carpet bowls and now required a walking aid. Anyhow why would you spend effort and breath in such activity when you could use it to tell a good story! Bob loved story telling, and not just telling stories, he was also a very good listener and encouraged the less extrovert of the men in the village to also tell stories.
He and wife Jennifer also attended the occasional village dinner night, to which of course all were invited. Bob savoured the after dinner conversation in mixed company, but perhaps not quite so much as he enjoyed the port and cheese nights. He felt he had more freedom to indulge in his full repertoire if the company was male only.
As Bob would often explain during part of the warming-up process, with first glass of port in hand, “There is innuendo and references in stories that men tell to other men that most women would not understand and most certainly wouldn’t approve of.”
Bob was also aware that no matter what one’s lot in working life had been, there were always associated stories. He was expert at prising stories from the more reticent of the men.
“Okay so you were a plumber. Don’t tell me you have no story. Tell us about the time the wife didn’t have the money to pay and what you were offered instead. There must be a million good stories like that—come on man!” And Bob would tease and jostle the men who claimed no story telling skill until they had spilt the beans about some situation or other. It never bothered Bob that their stories were badly told, so long as he could get them started. He was effusive in his praise no matter what the story and the amazing fact was that these blokes (including the plumber) suddenly had many stories and at subsequent meetings their story telling skill improved immensely. So everyone relied on Bob to keep the group going and the stories rolling.
Bob was a fighter pilot in the Second World War and spent his subsequent working life as a Qantas pilot. He had an abundance of interesting and very amusing stories—places he had been, people
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