Tumbling like it's 2016

My social media feed has been rife with a “trend” posting throwbacks to 2016, but unlike Doppelgänger week on Facebook (circa 2008) I’ve resisted the urge to participate.

So instead, I’m doing something equally as indulgent - posting something I wrote on Tumblr exactly ten years ago. The story is about my uncle, a man I’m estranged from.

Families are funny…

I have one uncle who’s an outcast. I’ve not seen or spoken to him in at least ten years. No one in my immediate family has. In fact, the last time I remember seeing him was his wedding day. (My father, a desperately hard man to impress, considers it the best wedding he’s been to).

The marriage ended in failure, as this particular relative has always made life difficult for himself. Still, what a wedding!

I occasionally think about the memories I have of this guy, but there are only a few and they’re really only positive. I think I’d like to interact with him more. Anyway, here’s a few classic hits:

1) When I was four, he returned from an exchange in Bolivia. (As an adult, I’d love to know what he got up to there). He had brought me a gift - a pair of desert boots made of llama hair. I don’t think they were considered cool at the time but they would be today.

2) Shortly after that, he was entrusted with minding me. He had nothing to entertain me with so put on a film he believed I would love. That movie was Labyrinth. He made special mention of the guy in it David Bowie who was a “genius”.

3) Slightly older, possibly seven or eight, my grandparents and I visited him in Carlton. His flat had just been burgled but the only thing missing was a plastic marijuana plant. He “hoped they would smoke it”.

4) Around the same age he employed me (I was never remunerated) to roll his cigarettes for him. I sat outside my nan’s place with his filters, tobacco, papers, and his rollie machine churning out darts. Ironic that I can’t roll a decent one today.

5) He wore Chuck Taylors and called them “gym boots”.

6) After looking through his tape collection, and fixating on Queen’s Greatest Hits, he said I could have it. I was 12 and had a CD player by then. Still, it was a generous deed.

7) My last vivid recollection I have of him, outside his holy matrimony, was again with my grandparents and my brother.

On our way to the coast, unannounced, we stopped in to see him at his flat in Geelong. (It was before mobile phones). He greeted us at the door but stood very deliberately blocking the entrance. Despite my nan’s continued protesting, we weren’t allowed inside.

He began acting progressively frustrated and the only words I remember from the exchange were “If you go in there… I’m walking this way and you’ll never see me again”, pointing indiscriminately outside away from the house.

I was still too young to draw any real conclusions on what was behind that door, but my brother and I occasionally talk about that weird interaction. Sadly, it’s the most lasting memory I have of him.

The only other things I know about him are that he is particularly smart. For my mum to concede this is an indication it had to be true.

He’s considered a black sheep, but nothing I ever saw was irredeemable. I’m sure there’s lots I don’t know though.

And his greatest allies are my grandparents. The two most affected by his lies. The couple of people with any real claim to being angry at him. But like any good parents, they have chosen not to give up on him. That’s the type of people they are.

I brought his name up at Christmas, quietly. Nan tells me he’s doing well. Whether it’s the truth or not, who knows. It was nice to hear though.

It is with the passing of David Bowie that I remember this banished family member. He was onto something with that genius. I’ve worn Chuck Taylors for a good 12 years now. I also refer to them as gym boots. Queen is my all-time favourite band. And I don’t mind a rollie every now and then either.

18 months ago, I saw him for the first time in 25 years. It was at his father / my granddads funeral. He sat in front of me, by my nans side. He left immediately afterwards and I didn’t speak to him.

I don’t need to know what was behind that door or how he became an outsider. But there are many things I wish I knew about this man who had such a lasting impact on me.

ZP / NpG

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