en-fr  REFLECTIONS
RÉFLEXIONS « Un mémoire sur la valeur de la vie » par Kim. Première partie : La vie est cruelle. La vie est imprévisible. Aussi, ne considérez jamais votre vie comme acquise. Une vieillesse en bonne santé n'est pas un droit inné. Ce n'est pas garanti. Croyez-moi, je le sais.
Maintenant, suivez-moi, si vous le voulez. Si vous en êtes capable, projetez-vous en 1978. C'était l'ère du punk rock. La musique live était partout, dans tous les pubs. Des groupes punk étrangers débarquaient chez nous, et ça coutait trois fois rien d'aller les voir. Je confectionnais mes propres tenues, c'est ça l'esprit punk. En Grande-Bretagne, cette musique était destinée à une jeunesse en grande partie marginalisée. Ils avaient le droit de s'exprimer mais personne ne semblait les écouter. Les "Sex Pistols" contestaient l'autorité. Ils ont jeté un pavé dans la mare. Et leur flamme, bien que de courte durée, brûlera pendant des années. Ils ont balayé les vieilleries : discothèques, groupes de stade et morceaux interminables ; et ils ont, avec des groupes américains comme « The Ramones », introduit des chansons avec trois accords, courtes, rapides et bruyantes. Ils annonçaient une époque où n'importe qui pouvait prendre une guitare, apprendre quelques accords et former un groupe.
Puis les paroles ont évolué. Les groupes comme « Clash » produisaient enfin des paroles profondes. Elles étaient soit sociales, soit politiques et elles nous parlaient. C'était une belle époque pour être dans la vingtaine.
Puis, dans les années 80, beaucoup de nos amis se sont mariés. Ils ont tous eu des enfants au cours de l'année. « Nous voulons être de jeunes parents » était le mantra. Steve et moi, nous avons eu une idée différente. Nous nous sommes mariés jeunes. J'avais 19 ans et il en avait 22. Dans un mois ou deux, notre âge allait changer mais cela n'avait pas d'importance. On s'amusait encore à voir jouer des groupes. C'est à dire... tout en travaillant.
On était jeunes, pleins de vie et on travaillait dur. On avait obtenu un prêt au logement et on travaillait dur pour le rembourser. Steve avait deux jobs. Il était fonctionnaire sur un temps complet. Il faisait des heures supplémentaires chaque fois qu'il était disponible. Et puis il avait un job supplémentaire comme serveur de bar et en salle dans un club local.
Pour ma part, je travaillais comme opératrice informatique pour le conseil municipal. Heureusement pour moi, l'un des gars de l'autre équipe se faisait assez souvent porter pâle. Il tombait toujours malade lorsqu'il était de l'équipe d'après-midi. C'était particulièrement le cas quand il avait acquis un nouveau « jouet » informatique. Je ne m'en plaignais pas car j'ai volontiers levé la main pour le remplacer. C'était à l'époque où les syndicats en Australie étaient puissants et les primes étaient élevées.
Steve et moi avons gagné assez d'argent à nous deux en deux ans et demi pour rembourser intégralement le crédit sur notre domicile, un modeste appartement de deux chambres près de la plage dans lequel nous vivons encore. Nous décidâmes qu'il était temps de voyager. Après une courte escapade de deux mois dans l'ouest des États-Unis, nous avions prévu de nous rendre en Grande-Bretagne et au-delà.
Avec six mois de congé longue durée — après dix années de service consécutives à son poste — nous avions décidé de partir à l'étranger. Steve avait également accumulé quatre semaines de congés et on lui a permis de prendre le congé de longue durée à demi-salaire. Ce qui équivaut à quatorze mois de congés payés, sans perdre son poste. Dire que nous étions impatients est un euphémisme. Le 24 mars 1986, nous nous sommes envolés pour Londres en passant par Singapour et Bangkok.
L'Australie était en proie à une canicule, alors Steve, son frère Tim et moi-même avons décollé en shorts, tee-shirts et tongs (une espèce de chaussures — connue sous le nom de « flip-flops » au Royaume-Uni). Tim partait seul, mais au moins, lui et moi avions eu la prévoyance d'emmener des vêtements plus chauds dans nos bagages à main. Le souvenir de Steve qui se tenait alors sur une plateforme élévatrice à Heathrow avec juste un sloppy joe (comme on les appelait en Australie — sweat j'imagine), un short et des tongs, est hilarant comme celui de cette une petite fille emmitouflée dans un manteau, avec écharpe et bonnet de laine, qui tire sur la manche de sa mère et qui pointe sans relache et d'un ton interrogateur cet homme étrangement vêtu.
Et nous avons pris le train de la British Rail, comme il s'appelait à l'époque, et ensuite le métro pour Waterloo où nous attendaient le lit et le petit déjeuner que nous avions réservés de chez nous en Australie. Notre aventure était sur le point de commencer.
Fin de Partie I
unit 1
REFLECTIONS A memoir on the value of life by Kim Part I Life is cruel.
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Life is unpredictable.
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So never take living for granted.
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A healthy old age is not a birthright.
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It is not guaranteed.
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Believe me, I know.
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Come with me now, if you will.
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Cast you mind back, if you are able, to 1978.
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It was the era of punk rock.
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Live music was everywhere, in every pub.
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Overseas punk bands visited, and they were so cheap to see.
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I used to nobble together my own outfits – that was what punk was all about.
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In Britain it was music for a largely disenfranchised youth.
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They had the right to speak but no-one seemed to listen to them.
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“Sex Pistols” challenged authority.
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They threw the cat amongst the pigeons.
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And their flame, though short-lived, will burn for years.
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They heralded a time when anyone could pick up a guitar, learn a few chords, and form a band.
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Then the lyrics evolved.
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Bands like “Clash” finally produced lyrics with depth.
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They were either social or political and spoke to us.
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It was a great time to be a twenty-something.
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Then, around 1980, many of our friends married.
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They all had children within the year.
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“We want to be young parents”, was the mantra.
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Steve and I, had a different idea.
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We married young.
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I was 19 and he was 22.
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In a month or so our ages would change but that is of no importance.
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We were still having fun seeing bands.
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In between working, that is.
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We were young, full of life and working hard.
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We secured a home loan and worked hard to pay it off.
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Steve worked two jobs.
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He had his full-time position as a public servant.
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He would work overtime whenever it was available.
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Then there was his extra job as bar staff and waiting on tables in a local club.
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As for me, I worked as a computer operator for the local council.
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Lucky for me, one of the chaps on the other shift would call in “sick” quite often.
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He always fell ill when assigned to an afternoon shift.
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This was especially the case when he had acquired a new electronic “toy”.
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I did not complain as I readily put my hand up to fill-in for his shift.
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This was in the days when unions in Australia were strong and penalty rates were high.
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We decided it was time to travel.
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After a short two-month jaunt to the western United States, we planned to head for Britain and beyond.
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That added up to fourteen months of paid leave, with no loss of his position.
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To say we were excited is an understatement.
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On March 24, 1986 we flew off to London via Singapore or Bangkok.
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Our adventure was about to begin.
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END PART I
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ripcurlgirl • 162  commented on  unit 46  10 months, 2 weeks ago
ripcurlgirl • 162  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Oplusse • 14042  commented on  unit 23  10 months, 2 weeks ago
ripcurlgirl • 162  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
CommeuneTexane • 1659  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
ripcurlgirl • 162  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Bülbül • 374  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
ripcurlgirl • 162  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
francevw • 14145  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Bouchka • 3709  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Oplusse • 14042  commented on  unit 16  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Oplusse • 14042  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Bouchka • 3709  commented on  unit 8  10 months, 2 weeks ago
"?"
ripcurlgirl • 162  commented on  unit 1  10 months, 2 weeks ago
ripcurlgirl • 162  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago
Oplusse • 14042  commented  10 months, 2 weeks ago

Ouah! Je suis vraiment surpris de voir à quel point c'était populaire! Merci tout le monde.

Je vais télécharger la partie suivante. S'amuser !

by ripcurlgirl 10 months, 2 weeks ago

J'ai déjà écrit la deuxième partie - elle est prête aller !.

by ripcurlgirl 10 months, 2 weeks ago

"Si cette histoire est traduit, elle va grandir..." Tu le promets ? Bon. Allons-y mes amis, j'ai hâte de lire la deuxième partie !

by CommeuneTexane 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Merci, Tu es trop gentil Viviane. Je suis heureux que d'autres l'aiment aussi.

by ripcurlgirl 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Bravo Kim et merci :-)

by Bülbül 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Merci France et Bouchka 😊

by ripcurlgirl 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Bravo Kim and thanks for having taking time to write this text. 🤗

by francevw 10 months, 2 weeks ago

👏🏻 Kim, congratulations for this text and ... the following ones. ;-))

by Bouchka 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Elle sera traduite ☺

by Oplusse 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Si cette histoire est traduit, elle va grandir... ☺

by ripcurlgirl 10 months, 2 weeks ago

Comme je suis content de voir que mon invitation à prendre sa plume a déjà trouvé un écho aux antipodes de la France. Oh, je sens que la chose va s'amplifier ☺

by Oplusse 10 months, 2 weeks ago

REFLECTIONS
A memoir on the value of life
by Kim
Part I

Life is cruel. Life is unpredictable. So never take living for granted. A healthy old age is not a birthright. It is not guaranteed. Believe me, I know.
Come with me now, if you will. Cast you mind back, if you are able, to 1978. It was the era of punk rock. Live music was everywhere, in every pub. Overseas punk bands visited, and they were so cheap to see. I used to nobble together my own outfits – that was what punk was all about. In Britain it was music for a largely disenfranchised youth. They had the right to speak but no-one seemed to listen to them. “Sex Pistols” challenged authority. They threw the cat amongst the pigeons. And their flame, though short-lived, will burn for years. They brushed away the old – disco, arena bands and 17-minute songs – and they, together with American bands like “The Ramones”, introduced three chord songs that were short, fast and loud. They heralded a time when anyone could pick up a guitar, learn a few chords, and form a band.
Then the lyrics evolved. Bands like “Clash” finally produced lyrics with depth. They were either social or political and spoke to us. It was a great time to be a twenty-something.
Then, around 1980, many of our friends married. They all had children within the year. “We want to be young parents”, was the mantra. Steve and I, had a different idea. We married young. I was 19 and he was 22. In a month or so our ages would change but that is of no importance. We were still having fun seeing bands. In between working, that is.
We were young, full of life and working hard. We secured a home loan and worked hard to pay it off. Steve worked two jobs. He had his full-time position as a public servant. He would work overtime whenever it was available. Then there was his extra job as bar staff and waiting on tables in a local club.
As for me, I worked as a computer operator for the local council. Lucky for me, one of the chaps on the other shift would call in “sick” quite often. He always fell ill when assigned to an afternoon shift. This was especially the case when he had acquired a new electronic “toy”. I did not complain as I readily put my hand up to fill-in for his shift. This was in the days when unions in Australia were strong and penalty rates were high.
Steve and I earned enough money between us in two and a half years to fully pay down the mortgage on our home, a modest beachside two bedroom flat in which we still live. We decided it was time to travel. After a short two-month jaunt to the western United States, we planned to head for Britain and beyond.
With six months of long-service leave – earnt after ten consecutive years of service in his position – we decided to head off overseas. Steve had four weeks of leave also accumulated and he was permitted to take the long-service leave at half-pay. That added up to fourteen months of paid leave, with no loss of his position. To say we were excited is an understatement. On March 24, 1986 we flew off to London via Singapore or Bangkok.
Australia was suffering from sweltering heat so, Steve, his brother Tim and I all took off in shorts, singlets and thongs (of the footwear variety – known as “flip-flops “in the UK). Tim was going to head off on his own but, at least, he and I had the forethought to pack warmer clothing in our carry-on luggage. The memory of Steve standing on, what was then, an above ground platform at Heathrow with only a sloppy joe (as they were called in Australia – think sweatshirt), shorts and thongs, is hilarious as a rugged-up little girl, complete with coat, scarf and wooly cap, tugged at her mother’s sleeve and pointed feverously and quizzically toward this strangely dressed man.
And we caught the British Rail train, as it was then, and then the tube to Waterloo to find the bed and breakfast we had booked from back home in Australia. Our adventure was about to begin.
END PART I