Open Writing

...My son was secretly quite proud of the family patriarch but felt the need to hover at the base of each slide, like an anxious parent and physically pull his spluttering, tumbling grandad from the churning backwash. Grandad is not an overly proficient swimmer although he is currently having lessons. It’s never too late, even at seventy-eight...

The exhilirating Sandy James tells us of the wet and wild side of Aussie life.

Have you ever noticed how Americans seem to have a different genetic makeup to the rest of us? They have this mutation on their DNA called a ‘rollercoaster gene’. It is the gene which causes them to seek out theme parks and actually crave the adrenalin rush which comes with cascading down waterfalls, hurtling off slides, lurching down big dippers and generally whirling through space on vomit inducing rides.

I don’t have this gene. I blame my sensible British ancestry which has more of a tendency towards self preservation and a distinct aversion to head banging, body jerking and gut wrenching screams - anything out of control and uncouth really. Cowardice, I’ve decided, has nothing to do with it.

I was unaware of my serious shortcoming until I moved to Australia and became the mother of a boy. Boys, I soon learnt, are the epitome of MC squared - a small amount of matter which releases a huge amount of energy – and this energy needs to be constantly burned off otherwise frustration and mischief ensue. Little girls will spend hours doing craft, washing dollies and reading stories but little boys can be encapsulated in one word - ACTION. So, our family holidays metamorphosed in line with this requirement, stopped being restful and tranquil and began to revolve around theme parks.

I soon gained the reputation for loosing my nerve and heading for the ‘chicken gate’ which was, thankfully, placed at the point of departure for each ride. As my family mocked me more and more, I had to revise my instinctive, protective role in the hierarchy and let my “baby” race off at breakneck speed with his father on the various attractions. (Another misnomer that one, for they hold no attraction for me whatsoever.) I reviewed my position and concluded that my role in the family was now to make the others appear relatively brave.

My parents did nothing to enhance my situation. Visiting from England, they came with us to a water theme park in Queensland called ‘Wet and Wild’. (“That should be ‘Wimpy and Wussy’, in my mum’s case”, I overheard my son whisper to my father.) They refused to sit quietly in the shade, minding the bags as other respectable grandparents do and insisted on joining in. Granny was unusually well behaved. She is generally the one we have to keep an eye on during family outings. She is notorious for chatting up younger men, especially those with a Yorkshire accent, and either invites them back for evening drinks or gets herself spontaneously invited to a party of any sort. Grandad has been known to mutter, “We’ll all be murdered in our beds one night” but so far this has yet to eventuate.

It was Grandad, with a pacemaker and knee replacement, who caused his grandson the most consternation. Grandad had been decked out in a new pair of extremely cool board shorts and colour coordinated rash vest (sun protector garment) in the manner of authentic, Aussie surfers. This trendy outfit filled him with bravado and he came whizzing down the water slides, feet first at full pelt. My son was secretly quite proud of the family patriarch but felt the need to hover at the base of each slide, like an anxious parent and physically pull his spluttering, tumbling grandad from the churning backwash. Grandad is not an overly proficient swimmer although he is currently having lessons. It’s never too late, even at seventy-eight.

After a few retrievals, my son felt obliged to enquire of my father, “Grandad, are you wearing any Speedos under your boardies?”

“No,” answered my dad. “Should I be? In my day you only ever wore one pair of bathers at a time.”

“Grandad! You need Speedos underneath your board shorts for two reasons. Firstly, boardies are quite loose around the hips and may fall off altogether and secondly they have wide, open legs where everything is on display and the water shoots up.”

Quite unperturbed, my father answered, “Well lad, I always say that it pays to advertise but no wonder I am experiencing so many enemas.”

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To read more of Sandy's brilliant columns please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/sandys_say/