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- Category:
- Soap Box
- Author:
- Maxi Shield
- Posted:
- Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Like many people I know, I’m from a mixed family, bits and pieces from everywhere, with lots of kids running around screaming. Both my parents believed in child labour, so weekends would be filled with chores to keep us out of their hair.
As most of us do, I went through stages of hating them, loving them, never wanting to see them again and missing them terribly.
It’s not till you’re older that you begin to understand the strain your parents must have endured raising a family.
Once most of us had left the nest, my parents split up, Mum staying on the South Coast and Dad relocating to Norfolk Island with his new wife. Because of the distance, I hadn’t seen him or his new wife for over 12 years. My relationship with Dad was not strong, but there all the same.
As a teenager, I had been advised that I should think about getting a casual job. At 15 years old, anything “advised” certainly wasn’t written in stone. Sick of hearing my “Yeah yeah”, I was told that until I found something myself I would be going to work with Dad, who was a concreter.
In what I consider the middle of the night, I was ushered out the door, into his cigarette-smelling, dirty work truck and off we rattled to the site.
A list of tasks was given to me, and I worked like a dog for the next four hours before we broke for morning tea. Warned not to touch the wet cement, due to my overly soft hands, I was soon cut to buggery. I counted each hour as it slowly slipped by.
Needless to say I got a job at K-Mart the next day. I don’t think Dad really missed me, but was happy I experienced what he did to put food on our tables.
I recently found out that Dad was relocating to Dubbo, and would be in Sydney for a couple of nights. Jumping at the chance, my brother and I hatched a scheme. I was to perform in the Taxi Club’s restaurant on Saturday night. The plan was to bring them both and for me to just come out and do the show. We were certain that Dad would realize straight away, and have a good old laugh, or drink a lot of beer.
Nervous as all hell, I launched into my first number, to see Dad, head down, scoffing down his meal. I spun and kicked — still no reaction. After two talk spots and my third number, with a smile I heard a chuckle I recognised — my brother pissing himself laughing across the table.
After the show, I sat down for a proper reunion, in which I was informed that Dad just thought it was some Las Vegas-style show. I was bombarded with questions like “I know a gay person, maybe you know him”… They ended up coming upstairs for the second show.
To begin with I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I’m over the moon he enjoyed it. Now for Mum to come and see a show — but let’s keep it to baby steps.
Tags: Maxi Shield, the queen's throne
November 13th, 2008 @ 1:14 pm
Hey there! Loved your storey. I,m from Norfolk, and possibly know your father. Great place. I was to go back for a 40th school reunion this Dec 27th but my childeren are here, Tweed Valley. Wots ur fathers name? Understand if u don’t pass it on. Don’t know many new people on NI. Is his girlfriend an islander? Best for now. Cheers