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Knackered and Knocked Out, Down Under
I had a strong desire to return to Southeast Asia after 50 years, to see how much had changed. That desire had been like a small rodent gnawing on a nice piece of fine cheese, growing every day. I am a somewhat conservative and very independent old bloke. Or maybe I’m just an old country bumpkin, bloke. So anyhow, I planned my own Southeast Asia Tour. I did not use a travel agency. My itinerary included Tokyo, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Jakarta, and Hawaii on the return leg of my trip. I stayed far too long at the Nipa Hut, still located at Sukhumvit Sois 16 & 18 in Bangkok.
I almost missed my flight to Jakarta. After I got on my plane and situated in my seat, my eyes got fixed on the star sapphire ring I had purchased in Bangkok. I was sure I got an excellent bargain on it. I had consumed far too many drinks saying goodbye at the Nipa Hut. Staring at my Star Sapphire, it seemed to hypnotize me. I went into deep sleep, you might say passed out. When I woke up, to my astonishment, I was in Sydney, Australia. I could not believe I could be sitting there at the airport, what to do now?
I had a short talk with myself, “what the heck,” I always wanted to be an Australian. I will stay right here and become an Aussie. I can do it. I got a lot of that old pioneer spirit in me. I have to find myself a place, like an old worker’s cottage In a small Out Back Australian town. Live like back in the first gold rush years in the 1850s, live off the land, so to speak. It all sounded fun and easy, after traveling and searching for several weeks. I got myself all settled into my little cottage, thinking I could live off the fat of the old land. Wasn’t much fat left! Sour grapes about my self-induced lifestyle ran rampant. My vineyard never flourished, after starting my walkabout late in life.
A traveler happened to visit one day, to my relief. I, being the poor unthankful blighter, unloaded my burdened soul on the unsuspecting fellow. I must say, Mate. I just recently had one of my worst days ever, and I’ve had many a bad day in my time. I became bloody knackered, knocked out, so to speak, from a few lefts and rights from a kangaroo. I didn’t want him running amok, but I could not handle him or tie him down. I knew I had to find some genuine Aussie help from the outback. I sought out someone who was in the know when it came to wallabies and kangaroos. I needed professional help for sure; I could see the handwriting on the wall, next to the tanned hides. It makes me feel like I’m about to shoot through, leaving my hide hanging on the shed too.
On top of that, my Boomerang would just not come back. I didn’t know Jack about what to do with that blasted thing. I must learn to use this Boomerang or pack my bag and start trekking out of this country. I don’t think Meals on Wheels come this far out! How shall I get my game for survival, without my dang boomerang? I now know the true meaning of being knackered. I have been both knackered and knocked out, more than once.
“Charlie Drake explained the boomerang to me, I don’t think it is supposed to have any negative meaning to it.”
I had been here in down-under for close to 10 years. One day I was sitting in the shade of the old shed, thinking about all the different hides hanging out there on the wall ‘n’ where they fell to my Boomerang. I did well with the Boomerang when I learned how to use it, sitting there in the shade with my koala cobber. I said, Sid, you know what? Sid grinned as if he knew too. I don’t believe I missed my plane to Jakarta! I got on one headed for Sydney and named you after my life-changing trip, and I don’t regret it.