The Summer of ’82 Page 19

  My love-life blossomed post-1982. I ended up going out with Cindy for several years, but alas, it didn’t last. Noddy went on to repeat HSC and became an accountant. Wookey is now high up in the world of HR, and Drago became a doctor and then an anaesthetist. Evan became a lawyer, and Fiona Rossiter became a scientist and married a very good-looking man and had very good-looking kids.

  Glenn went on to work for the International Red Cross, and he now lives with his wife and three kids in Switzerland, where he works as a ‘consultant’ for several NGOs. He basically goes to third-world countries and assesses programs that are being run by organisations like Oxfam and Doctors Without Borders. I know, why doesn’t he do something useful with his life?

  Mark eventually stopped being naughty, completed his apprenticeship and worked for Telstra for years, but now he works as an IT guy in the education system. Trev played in many rock bands – including the awesome Ups and Downs. He even played on semi-hits like ‘Lit by the Fuse’. He eventually settled down and now works in IT logistics.

  Captain Cocoa lasted for about eight years. We did hundreds of gigs, put out several records and even appeared on the television show The Factory, which was hosted by Andrew Daddo and Alex Papps. (Why isn’t that still on TV?) But eventually we broke up because of the usual ‘musical and personal differences’. In other words, we hated each other’s guts. We had spent a lot of time lugging equipment around and doing crap gigs, and it was obvious that we were never going to be a major musical force.

  What else can I tell you? The Orange Rocket eventually conked out, and I sold it to the wreckers for fifty bucks. Electro Hot Dogs closed down due to ‘financial mismanagement’. I never heard from Sonia again. Dad did give me a hundred dollars for getting an A in Australian History, and I spent it on records and some Doc Martens.

  Now, as the father of three children, one of whom has just started high school, I look forward to watching as each of them experiences their own ‘summer of ’82’. Sure, these days it’s a lot different – they have schoolies and mobile phones, and everyone seems to pass the VCE. But if I could give one bit of advice to my kids, I would tell them not to hitchhike to Mildura on New Year’s Eve to see a girl who doesn’t know you’re coming. Actually, just don’t hitchhike, ever. And don’t make bombs. And don’t drive fast. And never own a motorbike. And eat lots of vegetables. And be nice to your father.