Poor Old Howard got ‘Screwed’.

aviary_2-scaled500

Poor old Howard Nillson, the Intertype Mechanic lived around the corner from me in Myrtle Bank.
While his wife sat on her arse inside, Howard would be working away in the garden.
When she wanted Howard she would lean out the window and yell, “Howard, I want a cup of tea!” or “Howard, I want an egg sandwich!” and so on.
One Sunday morning Howard was on the roof cleaning out the gutters.
She leaned out the window and screamed, “Howard, turn the roast over now!”
Howard scuttled down the ladder, turned the roast over and then scuttled back up the ladder on to the roof to finish the gutters.
You would think that coming to work would be relaxing for Howard. but No!
Most lunch times Howard would be running all over Adelaide paying bills for Jack Findlay.
Jack (who was Howard’s foreman) would also sit on his arse eating his sandwiches, get up, have a stretch and stroll over to the Lunch Room.
Meanwhile poor old forgotten Howard with sweat pouring off his cheeks was trudging drearily through the streets of Adelaide.
The late Warren Pietsch

The Secret Life of ‘Possum Whisperer.’

The Photograph above shows a wise middle-aged gentleman with his young protege basking in the sun and lolling around on the grass near the Old Guv.
The people in the photo are Harry Kinder, a polite well dressed Englishman and excellent Compositor. Sitting close by is Alex Riley, a young toffy nosed lad and child of rich parents who claimed links to the British Royal Family.
Alex thought he was superior to other comp. apprentices and refused to clean the comp room toilets. This made him very unpopular with older apprentice Brian Hartshorne and the victim of many practical jokes.
Harry Kinder who had done much to befriend the boy eventually became sadly disillusioned with his young protege and his horrible anti-social ways and so gave him the ‘arse’.

We now fast forward 50 years and discover that Harry Kinder has passed away and Alex Riley is now an grumpy old tight arsed bastard who has retired to the Hills of Bridgewater, near Adelaide.
Here Alex has become known as the ‘possum whisperer’ and Old Man Yeti, a shrunken old man carrying a magic wooden walking stick with a love for possums.

This is a photo of Possum No. 9, one of the possum friends that Alex feeds apples and grapes to each night. This is one cute possum.

Has our Alex changed? I think he has at least with the Possums.

Frank Harding, the Final Goodbye.

frankharding1-scaled500I never knew Frank Harding the Englishman who worked in the Comp Room at the Old Guv during the 1960s.
Evidently Frank was a very nice sort of fellow who was very popular with the Aussie Compositors.
Which made him unique as most of the Pommy comps were treated with some suspicion by the Aussies.
Why you may ask?
Some of the older Australian compositors thought that some of our English comrades were not actually tradesmen. Nothing was ever proven though.
Back to Frank. He was the poor man who fainted when Dennis Starr ate a large moth that had frightened Frank by wandering into his work frame.
Anyway, Frank’s wife wanted to go back to the old homeland and so Frank gave notice.
The following pictures are memories of his departure celebrations.
frankharding2-scaled500From Left to Right: Frank Harding (seated) happily entertaining his workmates on the didgeridoo, the late Greg Novice, John Buckby, the late Colin Haines, Steve Palmer and Alex Riley (with hair).

From Left to Right: Bob Allen, Frank Harding, Darryl Stone, Kevin Stone, Alan Crate and the late Reg Hartshorne. Photo courtesy Kevin Stone.
Kevin says, “As far as I recall, we gave Frank his gifts at work – in the comp room – and then went straight over to the old South Australian Hotel, North Terrace to celebrate”.
Rod Parham

Old Guv Footy Side,1955.

gpd-footyThe Old Guv Men’s football side from 1955 at Rostrevor College Oval.
From Left to Right: Rex Wells (Comp), George Sparnon (Comp), Glyn Paul (comp), Paul Raby (Printer), Allan Hitchox (Comp), John Strudwick (Printer), Brian Long (Printer), Laurie Blackwell (Printer), Don Woolman (Comp), Mike Conroy (App. Machine Comp), Allan Swinstead (Comp), Dean Groves (Binder), Alex McDougall (Printer), Don Loose (Comp), John McInerney (Comp), Malcolm Lind (Binder), Frank Cole (Captain), Billy Ross (MonoCaster).
Kneeling: Paul Korff (App. Machine Comp), Ron Sparrow (Comp), Dick Korff (Binder).
This brave group of blokes played National Paper Industries (who used to make most of Adelaide’s paper bags) and got done.
They were wearing kit borrowed  from the Sturt Football Club and organised by Rex (Fitzy) Wells.
Photo courtesy of David Korff.

 

‘Porridged’.

Porridge
“A Breakfast Dish made with oats, very hot water, salt and stirred becoming a sticky mess generally consumed by the lower classes in England and in Australia.” OR
“A prison sentence in a British Prison, e.g.”doing your porridge”.
Immortalised in the wonderful British TV Comedy “Porridge” starring Ronnie Barker. OR
“In South Australia down at The Old Guv on King William Road, to be porridged meant you had been bollocked by the Boss (told off).
Once the Comps found out you had been porridged they would let YOU know that THEY knew in one way or another about your serve of “porridge”.
John Buckby would sing the old Elvis song “All Shook Up” and change the words to “All Stirred Up” right in front of you. Some would whistle the song.
Others would ask, “What did you have for Breakfast?” “Some Porridge Arsehole?”
And some would simply say, “Serves you fuckin’ right! ” They were the suckholes.
The late Warren Pietsch

Sam, me & The Fight.

001-6-scaled696-scaled500

Rodney ‘Sam’ Lawn was a very strong young man and loved to show off by hanging one-handed from the ceiling in the Old Guv Comp Room.
We called him “The cheeky Monkey’ but he said his nickname was “Sam” and it came from his Uncle Sam, a Pollie. It sounded like Bullshit.
Friday was Weekly Notice day at The Guv.
On one particular Friday, Sam Lawn and I had an argument and fisticuffs after morning tea. We held each other in headlocks and threw some weak as piss punches at each other.
After 30 seconds, we stopped and said sorry to each other and went back to the work bench noticing Don ‘Keyhole’ Guscott brushing his teeth at the wash basin.
Sam and I looked at each other with a gleam of evil in our eyes. Sam put a headlock on me and we bounced and struggled towards the wash basin and Don.
And, with a huge lurch threw ourselves at “Keyhole”.
Gulp! He nearly swallowed his tooth brush. It scared shit out of him. Our mission was accomplished and we went back to work.
About 60 seconds later Karl ‘Chalky’ Boos (allegedly a Binder) burst through the back-stair doors. He had heard that a vicious, bloody fight was taking place in the Comp room.
We couldn’t believe how fast and wide the news of “the fight” had spread. It was scary!
The late Warren Pietsch,