They call me Mellow Yellow

They will by the time I've finished 'signposting' all those tree stumps with yellow grapefruits - see Sour Grapefruits - if I don't run out of them first!

Isn't it strange how I remember this forty-year-old tune and yet have trouble remembering what I had for breakfast this morning?

The same thing happened when during yesterday's 'retail therapy' I came across the DVD "The Hustler" in which Paul Newman plays Fast Eddie Felson, the hustler who haunts backstreet pool rooms fleecing anyone who'll pick up a cue.

Quick as a flash I remembered my accounting-colleague in Rabaul in 1970 who was called 'Felson' for his pool room abilities and staying out all hours (not that I knew at the time that his nickname referred to the Paul Newman movie). This is how I remember him and the other accountant with whom I shared a company house:

"Rabaul was everything I had expected of the Territory: it was a small community settled around picturesque Simpson Harbour. The climate was tropical with blazing sunshine and regular tropical downpours, the vegetation strange and exotic, and the social life a complete change from anything I had ever experienced before! And to top it all, I loved the work which offered challenges only available in a small setting such as Rabaul where expatriate labour was at a premium. The firm was small: the resident manager, his wife as secretary, and two accountants (both still studying) plus myself. One of the accountants was a real character who was destined never to leave the Territory. For him the old aphorism came true that "if you spend more than five years in New Guinea you were done for, you'd never be able to get out, your energy would be gone, and you'd rot there like an aged palm." He and an accountant from another chartered firm and myself shared a company house (which was really an old Chinese tradestore) in Vulcan Street and a 'hausboi' who answered to the name of Getup. "Getup!!!" "Yes, masta!"

Each of us took a turn in doing the weekly shopping. I always dreaded when it was their turn as they merely bought a leg of lamb and spent the rest of the kitty to stock up on beer! We spent Saturday nights at the Palm Theatre sprawled in our banana chairs with an esky full of stubbies beside us. The others rarely spent a night at home; their nocturnal activities ranged from the Ambonese Club to the Ralum Club to the RSL. When they were well into their beers, mosquitoes would bite them and then fly straight into the wall! Then, next morning, they were like snails on Valium. How they managed to stay awake during office hours has always been a mystery to me!"

Evidence has been found that William Tell and his family were avid bowlers. Unfortunately, all the Swiss League records were destroyed in a fire, ...and so we'll never know for whom the Tells bowled.