Sunday, November 25, 2007

Giant Crocodiles and Lost Pleasures

Saturday on my own saw me travel down to town to see 'Rogue' (Jaws revisited!). This movie had good reviews, and there's nothing like a good monster movie to get the blood pumping, in more ways than one.........

Our local cinema is terrific, with four small theatres, which are often nearly empty when a movie run is almost over. Saturday afternoon was no exception. I bought my ticket, and watched with trepidation a group of eight giggling teenagers who loudly proclaimed they were seeing the croc movie too. I nearly cashed in my ticket to go and see 'Elizabeth' with Cate Blanchett, but hoped they might quieten down watching the show.

They all filed in, girls and boys of maybe twelve to fourteen, chattering like budgerigars coming in to roost. My heart sank, and I kept telling myself I could still leave if necessary. The movie started and feet were up on the back of chairs and noise level wasn't dropping, so I put on my best teacher voice and asked them to keep it down; that we needed quiet to enjoy this type of movie. You can't do suspense with giggles.

They did try, some more than others, and every time the noise level rose, I would lean forward in my seat to look at them, and it would drop again. Fortunately there was a father and son sitting a couple of rows in front of me, and though he didn't turn around, his presence added authority.

The monster croc did his stuff; people got crunched, and the hero fought his last battle and won, saving the heroine who had been impossibly mauled. Enough to well and truly kill her! Great female lead, and other excellent Aussie stars. The huge croc was terrific, and the money spent on him was a good investment. But it was just another Jaws movie in beautiful Northern Territory scenery.

My man came home yesterday from his weekend away on his Harley. The dogs heard him from miles away and were looking down the driveway waiting for him to appear. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he came roaring round the corner and up the driveway, just as I put the poodles into the house to open the gate. He rumbled past me with his thumb up in greeting, and I felt a surge of grief that I probably wouldn't feel that extreme exhilaration again.

We used to make our last ten kilometres the best part of our ride, racing hard up the tight windies, me in front and him hot on my tail. Goodness knows what might have happened if a cow had been out on the road. There would have been no stopping.

We would roar up the driveway as he had just done, and along the veranda to the back of the house, the two Harley exhausts super loud under the iron roof. I would stop and get off and he would rev his bike up to make the rafters ring. Then we would Hi-Five in absolute joy. There is nothing that can possibly replace that adrenalin rush.

Later, after he had unpacked his saddlebags, I threw my leg over and lifted the bike off it's stand. I wanted to know whether I might be able to squeeze the clutch in. But, no, there was no hope ....... only pain. Early days yet, and my clutch has been operated on to make it softer, but it doesn't look good.

I was really gloomy after that. Maybe no riding ever again...............

"We have no right to ask when sorrow comes, 'Why did this happen to me?' unless we ask the same question for every moment of happiness that comes our way."
... Author Unknown

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