Click on image for an in-situ picture
Whenever I see a red plastic chair, I immediately think back to Camp 6 at Loloho on Bougainville Island! It was a time when the world was young and we were young. When all things were changing for the better, when old ways were destined to go, before we all grew up and had families and houses and career jobs, and the sap of life was slowly drained out of us.
Home was a 9x9ft donga tastefully decorated with PLAYBOY centrefolds of girls waxed to the point of martyrdom, where one's total wordly possessions easily fitted into a 2ft-wide metal locker and one's needs for comfort were completely satisfied by a red plastic chair on the porch.
Your donations are invited to finance my never-ending battle for the prevention of the extinction of red plastic chairs so as to keep alive my twisted memory of something so trivial and yet so life-changing.
P.S. All this was more than fifty years ago. I am now in the process of rebuilding my red plastic chair by adding handles and four wheels. 😀
