Smoke gets in your eyes…

While I am enjoying the fresh aspects of my golden retirement plateau, I have been keenly tidying all my cupboards, book shelves and craft den. Looks lovely now! I find the Salvos do a sterling job of collecting donations of good quality bric-a-brac, shoes, clothes, and books. Great team, it is cool to provide donations for the needy.

Now it is 2025, I did unearth some souvenirs of memorable moments from my younger days. For example, I came across and kept a program from my Form Six dinner, when we all left secondary school. That was in 1970.

In those days, we were all so fresh-faced, did not have formals, expensive long frocks, bands, or flash limousines. No schoolies, most definitely not. One of our parents drove us there, girls in home-made or store bought mini skirts, boys who might be facing conscription appeared in reefer jackets.

Fruit cup was our drink, whatever went on afterward. The meal menu was crème of chicken soup, chicken and side salad, (no dressing, vinaigrette unknown there), followed by fruit salad and dollop of whipped cream. No coffee, more fruit cup.

The meal was enjoyed, and acknowledged in a speech of thanks to the school’s Ladies’ Auxiliary. A fruit cake was sliced and served, as we listened dutifully to two male teachers singing “The Gendarmes’ Duet,” an excerpt from Gilbert and Sullivan. One student played a clarinet solo. We had to toast our school. Then girls (note gender bias) had to clear tables and wipe dishes to assist the mothers, all showing good manners. The boys were expected to stack tables neatly, in case anyone wished to dance, to approved music like “Somewhere”, from West Side Story.

We girls mostly sat and chatted, before our parent picked us up. A couple of the lassies were already pregnant, so their weddings were hastily arranged. They had spent some time after their exams fooling around with some young man in the back seat of his Holden Special. Most of us had already arranged our jobs, we were expected to be at our workplace in far off town, travelling on the old trains to be at our offices by 8am first thing Monday morning.

My first job was pushing paper allocations of a whole $2 per month to such mothers, that was their child endowment. (Hope they didn’t spend it all at once, raising the future of Australia). When I achieved a scholarhip to study at university, I headed off from that long demolished, asbestos clad centre of public servants.

A few years rolled around, and it was my final year. Fifty years ago, in May, I turned 21 years old. I only wished for a small family gathering, so my mother chose a night at a local dinner bistro, where the Platters were starring. My recently wed older sister and her husband attended, along with my parents, younger sister and my future husband. Yes, tidying the cupboards meant I discovered an old drinks menu for diners celebrating a great vocal group, as we listened to them sing their famous platters. That was when singles and LP records were in.

“The Great Pretender”, “Only You, “ and the classic “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” a brilliant performance, much appreciated. The souvenir drinks (I drank fruit cup), held such highlights as: Penfolds Riesling-$4.30 for a bottle, or $2.40 for a half bottle. A bottle of Moselle was $4.00. One bottle of sparkling wine was also $4.00. A magnum of Penfolds champagne was a full $6.35. An exciting drink of drops on the rocks was a total of $0. 85. A recommended perfect finish to the meal, which my future betrothed had, was an Irish coffee, with Irish whisky, cost only $1.35.

Unfortunately, my intended did indulge in too many whiskies, as the Platters sang, echoing through the years, “All who love are blind”. (or blind drunk). That once lovely flame died many years ago, we all turned the page and got on with life. Cigarette smoke filled our days, and the dinner bistro. Yes, we smile and sing along, smoke can get in your eyes.