Quick guide to water skiing.


Instead of wondering whether there were sharks in the river and whether great whites are actually attracted to wee I should have listened to my uncle telling me to keep my legs together..


Second time around I listened but wondered quietly to myself whether my poor coordination was hereditary or learned. If you’ve seen my dad on the dancefloor late at night you would say genetics. Then as my patient uncle explained about keeping arms straight my mind kept asking why, why, why would sharks be attracted to pee?


So… Legs together and arms straight. Done. Now try to look more coordinated than a one-legged goat in a mud-wrestling competition. I have no advice on how to do that.


I found it was important when crossing the wake to scream as if a shark was coming up behind me. That also strengthens your grip, which is handy when its feels as if your toboggan has gone off the track.


But the most important lesson… Resign yourself early on to the fact that a natural colon cleansing is inevitable when wearing children’s cossies.


Oh yeah… And take a cute cousin to share the sunshine with.

How a businessman made me laugh.

 I know, I know. It was selfish of me. And it probably ruined your holiday. Deepest apologies for the lack of blogs. If you haven’t abandoned my ship while I’ve been parading my voluptuous figure around the campground in children’s cossies, then here is a cheeky little adventure to, hopefully, bring a sneaky smile to your face. And a sneaky challenge to brighten someone’s day.

While strolling down King street, Sydney a few days ago an impeccably dressed businessman flew at me. Literally, he was belting down the pavement on his skateboard which I deduced, in Holmes-like fashion, was an ambitious Christmas present given by a younger, evil sibling. The poor sucker had no idea what to do on a skatie. I admit I am not a kick-flip expert, but I know my rather limited limits.

For starters this dude’s pants were inches from his navel and held up by a belt. So uncool. Then, he had picked a downhill track to try out his new death trap. His tie flapped behind an ironed salmon shirt, collared of course, as he desperately tried to stop the errant deck. The right foot briefly touched the pavement as he tried to stop his progress, speed gathering as quickly as a bloke rushes to a single blonde at the bar. It was futile, the foot movement only added to his perilous death wobbles. Then the left hand shot out and tried to grab a power pole, but the wheels were spinning in a fashion that’d make a Mercedes engineer proud. He let go. For the briefest moment I imagined him knocking down the suit-clad brunette next to me. Perhaps they’d fall in love, I pondered. But no, the salmon-shirted lad had too much self-preservation because he jettisoned himself from the evil present seconds before a love-creating collision. Barely noticing the frightened suit he streaked after the board, but the adrenalin enthusiast had no more luck off the board. The deck went straight under a cab, that jolted to a stop as the humbled man ran in front of it, engrossed with the progress of his wheels. The poor cyclist behind the cabbie was also halted. The anonymous lycra-wearer had a tough time starting to climb again, I noted with sympathetic amusement. Four lanes of traffic slowed and the skater boy ducked between the lanes, scouring the road for his new toy as if he actually wanted to use it again. Fleetingly I wondered if the grey surface would be split in two, but no, that board lived to kick his owner off on another day.

Oh how I chuckled. I laughed as I waited for the green man to flash and then my grin broke again when I missed the bus. It was a rousing performance.

This random guy earned a cocktail of respect from me for his foolhardy, clumsy style. Sure, downhill footpaths in peak hour are hardly forgiving learning grounds for grinds, but at least he was giving it a shot.

My eldest brother Nick, another zealous lad, also mustered some respect when I relayed the tale. Of course when his board shot under a bus when Nick was a 20-something barman it was knocked in half. But I suspect that was for the best because in an earlier unrelated incident, he happily told me, he’d been kicked off the deck after a fatal case of the death wobbles threw him onto the bonnet of a car. When he arrived at work that day the boss kindly donated a taxi fare to the emergency department. Once again, at least he was giving it a go.

So, the point of this tale is not solely to have a giggle at those who attempt skateboarding without low-riding, it’s to consider what foolish pursuits we could take up to spread uninhibited laughter to our faceless companions on the street. Rollerblading is already out for me. Those contraptions bring about a dearth of coordination that would make a toddler laugh in my face. In fact, tennis does that too. Maybe I’ll try squash, or give wakeboarding another shot. Or a unicycle.

And I dare you to give something a go that you wouldn’t usually. I dare you to risk looking like a fool, preferably in public, and have something to laugh about at your next barbeque.