Monday, May 2, 2016

On My Way.

Dedicated to the Hon Malcolm Turnbull MP, Prime Minister of Australia.  Another in my 'PM' series...

On my way now.  The future, yes, the future!  It’s nearly here.  I am certain about that as I have never been certain about anything before.  My time is coming.  I work hard, I study hard, I live hard.  Hell, I even drive hard.  I have driven myself  on, certainly, and the end of the journey is now in sight.  Except that it isn’t the end, really.  No, not the end – rather the start.  My life is the journey and I have started it at full speed. 

For most people, the future rushes towards them and they are like seaweed in the surf.  That’s not me.  No way - I’m no budgie smuggler.  I don’t ride the waves, I make the waves.   And I am making waves.   I am rushing towards my future, meeting it not in retreat, not even half way – I am meeting it on my terms.  Yes, on my terms.

I only know one speed and that’s fast, and I only know one direction and that’s forward.  I’ve passed, I know that - passed my HSC.  Just like I passed that old Holden a few moments ago.   Just like that new Ford a couple of streets back.  Passed them in Dad’s old jalopy like they wasn’t moving.  I’ve passed my HSC just like I passed those cars.  Just as easy.  Got my big ticks, as they say.   HSC?  No problem.  No worries mate.  There’s no doubt.  It’s in the bag.  It’s a done deal.  I drove myself to get the grades and now I’m driving myself down to the post office to get the official results.  ‘Official results’ that will only echo what I already know.  I have done well.  No, not well.  I have done brilliantly.

When I get there, I’m going to ring the old man and tell him.  He’s always been there for me, supported me.  When I read what I already know - that I’m up there in the high 90s, about as high as you can get I think - well then I’m going to call him from the post office phone itself and tell him the good news. 

And, as the future usually does for me, it all went according to plan.  Mostly. 

I called him with the good news.   “Dad” I said, “I’ve got good news.”  But before he could speak I added “And some bad news.”

“What’s the good news?” he asked.

“I did really well in the HSC,” I said.  And I had.  I really had.

“And the bad news?” he asked.

“I pranged your car on the way here,” I said.  And I had.  I really had.

Sometimes the future still manages to meet you on its own terms, it seems.

No comments: