We had known it for a long time but Dad lived in a time-warp where it was always the fifties. In his mind everything was like it was back when you listened to the radio waiting for the top ten hits of the day when Beach Boys sang how ‘Fun Fun Fun’ it was and you could just hop in your Daddy’s t-bird, skip the library and drive anywhere you pleased.
Well, for me those days were long gone and my employment at the library had shuddered to a halt, in fact some of them did not even call themselves libraries anymore but ‘information centres’ as if everyone was now a tourist and no longer read any books, but hooked up to some intravenous machine that downloaded everything directly into your brain. Of course, I rallied against this preferring even dead trees rustling on dead tree book shelves, so I suppose I was in a time warp myself, but I figured at least I would not get radiation poisoning and alzheimers from so much exposure to dangerous electromagnetic rays.
Dad still did his soduku puzzles which you could now even get printed on toilet paper but we weren’t that desperate, however he was now starting to despair that he couldn’t drive anywhere now the petrol stations were all closed. And we weren’t getting any more oil
No Dad, you will have to take the train and use your legs to walk to the station. Dad looked at me like I had gone nuts as he’d never had to walk anywhere before. Dad said, I still have petrol in the lawnmower, I will just use that to fire up the car.
I wondered how that was going to work and could just envisage him attaching the car to the lawnmower and trundling up to Sturges Road train station on that when I heard something that sounded like Mr Whippy ice cream truck music sound out on the road.
It was playing ‘Greensleeves’ and I wondered if by miracle the petrol stations had made a special exemption for Mr Whippy.
After all, isn’t ice cream an essential part of the kiwi diet?
The music wafted over the neighbourhood and drew closer to our house...
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