With the Phyllis Bates ‘academy’ dance lessons firmly tucked under my arms I was ready and willing to go and practise for the first time my dancing without the pre-painted dance-steps on a floor. An Austrian Waltz was the last one I was taught. At one stage I came close to losing the book held between us. I had to place my leg (just one) between both the lovely teacher’s legs and do a majestic sweep of one hundred eighty degree turn while holding my chin proudly upwards and sideways. I had at the same time hold both my right arm and her left arm stretching out towards Central Railway. I did not want to press, or move anything inappropriately while in that delicate but intimate position. I feared that some excitement might finally show but with my Reuben Scarf suit and generously billowing trousers I was somewhat reassured that nothing would betray even this possibility. In any case my concentration was focussed on the firm pushing Of Human Bondage book held between us.
I was informed about a dance club on Parramatta Rd near Sydney’s Strathfield. Readers might remember the salesman that sold me the Ford V8 also came from that area. He might well turn up at the same place. The place was called Vic’s Cabaret but like the word ‘academy’ it was another case of the misuse of words imbued with more than what was actually there. I remember being fascinated by ‘Palm Beach’ when still back in Holland before the migration episode. The map of Sydney had ‘Palm Beach’ on it. I used to lay in bed conjuring up waving palm trees and could not wait to see those. It was a B/W news-reel back in the winter cold of The Hague with natives on tropical islands sipping cool drinks from coconuts underneath beckoning palm trees. After migration I went to Palm Beach on my scooter. Not a single palm tree in sight! Now, I always thought that cabaret was a bit more than a place to dance in even if it included a small band.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/2008-10-22/32400
Still, Vic’s Cabaret in Strathfield even without it being a true cabaret in a more European sense, was still a good place to start finding a date. Lots of nice girls would be there and it just needed a positive attitude and some extra brylcreme. Having straight hair did not have at that time the same allure as having a bit of a wave. The TV series Seventy Seven Sunset Strip was responsible for millions of young men imitating the forever hair combing hair-wave owning wisecracking rock and roll Kookie character. I tried to get this wave and with enough Brilliantine hope I would also share in the glory of this popular character. Not unlike today with so many young men wanting to be a Bieber clone (or Russell Crowe for the more mature).
The Vic’s cabaret was a short drive from home and after a good wash and polish of the V8 I was ready and took off. I managed to park within a reasonable distance and took good note of where I parked. Most streets looked alike but it helped if one took notice of an unusual feature of where one parked. I took a mental note that the garden next to my car had old white painted rubber tyres around some azaleas. The old tyres were a feature of those times and also kept the weeds out. It was considered a very handy place to put old tyres and often this hint was given in the Garden magazine. It was one of dad’s pet hatreds together with the habits of many elderly ladies painting the hair blue or a bright pink. “I saw a lady in the bus today who had pink hair. ” A famous sentence of my dad still doing the rounds at Christmas time amongst the Oostermans. Dad had great difficulty with adjusting to some odd or strange habits differing from some equally strange habits in his own country. I mean, riding bicycles while wearing a suit, or dipping a raw herring in onions and eating it in full view of pedestrians? All the windows open in full sight of a family eating their dinner?
How strange is that?
Tags: Bieber, Central Railway, Europe, Ford V8 1950, Of Human Bondage, Palm Beach, Parramatta Rd, Phyllis Bates, Reuben Scarf, Russell Crowe, Vic's Cabaret
May 26, 2015 at 5:34 pm |
Why an Austrian waltz, Gerard? Why not a good Dutch waltz or a Waltzing Matilda? I regret to say that I cannot dance at all except perhaps when I am chasing moths. Then it becomes twist and shout.
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May 27, 2015 at 10:10 am |
The Austrian Walz is the best. At least during the good ol times in St Petersburg, swirling couples and good old Johann and Oscar Strauss’ writing htem as fast as they could. The Dutch walz is more like pumping water behind the dykes and going Oompah, oompah.
The Matilda Walz is a bit pale looking with Abbott as conductor and holding out against same sex marriage,.
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May 26, 2015 at 6:26 pm |
Great fun Gerard. I can envision the young Gerard trying out his dancing skills.
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May 27, 2015 at 10:11 am |
Yes, the Pelaco shirt had a good run for the money. It was hot work.
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May 27, 2015 at 12:43 am |
Am enjoying your descriptions of your youth Gerard!
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May 27, 2015 at 10:12 am |
Yes, it will not let go of me. I did finally get a date. Did I tell you about the Willy Willy at Woy Woy?
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May 27, 2015 at 4:56 am |
And here I am waiting to see how you fared. 🙂 –Curt
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May 27, 2015 at 10:13 am |
It took a few attempts but landed a date to Woy Woy in the V8. It was a difficult day but it was memorable otherwise I would not go on about it.
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May 28, 2015 at 11:41 pm
🙂 I’ll bet.
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May 27, 2015 at 6:29 am |
Me too, Gerard, want to read more and more of your posts. I am enjoying them very much! 🙂
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May 27, 2015 at 10:15 am |
I am so glad . I enjoy your’s and Peter’s travelling through life together for so many years as well. What a journey you both are still experiencing.
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May 27, 2015 at 6:44 am |
Gerard, you managed to keep up with the times, but I’m still trying to figure out how you were going to dance an Austrian waltz with an eager and buxom beauty. If the girl did not know the dance were prepared to teach her?
I laughed about your dad giving his account of the woman with the pink dyed hair. Those older woman must have been a sight for sore eyes. I don’t remember a fad such as that here in the states.
Your stories just keep getting better and better.
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May 27, 2015 at 10:20 am |
Oh, the waltz took some work and had its nerve wrecking moments especially doing the turn or swirl, me guiding her around with my leg gentle pushing her in the right direction. It is really a very symbiotic way of two bodies moving in unison to music. Dancing can be very sensual but I was too nervous to really let go and the dancing was really a ploy for me to achieve a date.
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May 27, 2015 at 7:48 am |
My imagination is full of the vivid images you paint, and anticipation for what comes next 🙂
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May 27, 2015 at 10:23 am |
What comes next is always a bit of hit and miss affair Julia but I am chuffed that you are reading my words. I finally had a date, but water and oil dont mix, and I got stuck for things to say to her on that first date. I mean, I had the words but they did not walk too well.
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May 27, 2015 at 5:12 pm |
It seems to me there are two types of dance going on here.
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May 27, 2015 at 9:50 pm |
Yes, indeed Rod. A waltz has to be danced well or not at all. It requires multi tasking with so much going on, especially being on the cusp of dating and trying to be a bit Kookie.
This looks interesting’
https://asidewrite.wordpress.com/2015/05/28/murrumu-charged-after-driving-with-licence-issued-by-his-indigenous-nation-australia-news-the-guardian/#like-1592
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May 27, 2015 at 10:34 pm |
Oh a Waltz, first dance I learned..after that I was allowed to learn the Rock’n roll :-). There is something special about the first date isn’t there. The first dance, the first kiss, oh my now you have me thinking about a few “firsts” like I am not sweating enough dealing with menopause. Thanks Gerard 🙂
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May 28, 2015 at 4:46 am |
Yes, ‘firsts’ are often remembered more for being the ‘first’ than actually the significanse or greatness of it.
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May 29, 2015 at 6:27 pm |
Putting Human Bondage to good work!
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June 4, 2015 at 9:41 pm |
I hope the Aussie girls got taught the Austrian waltz too!
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