Derek Zoolander
Norm Smith Medallist
- Joined
- Aug 16, 2002
- Posts
- 6,544
- Reaction score
- 2
Bulldog people, i share with you a story. It, up until yesterday, was a happy story. However, Sunday, the 23rd Feb 2003, will mark a black day in my life story.
Let me take you back...
*insert flashback music here*
When i was a young boy, i used to travel to Anglesea for my family holiday. We'd meet my Grandparents there, and i would spend my days on the beach, in the water, building sand castles in the sun. I was about 3.
As life progressed, the trips to Anglesea grew less, however, as i flick through the memories of my life, i can see myself playing beach cricket, with a specially made grey nic bat that was given to our family by friends of my mother. We'd spend the nights around the campsite and sleep in a caravan. I was bout 7.
Futher on we travel, to the few and far between trips now made to Anglesea, to spend time out in a fishing boat, almost catching a mako shark in one outing, but going home with a squid instead. I was about 15.
In between these years, down that same road to Anglesea, my father would take me to a handful of Geelong V Bulldog matches at Kadinia Park. Probably about 4 all up, maybe more, but not many more.
There have been countless other trips to Geelong. With my mother, for a shopping trip, with my good friend TADS so she could experience Geelong, quite a few trips made down that very road.
What does this all have in common i hear you ask, and why are you boring us with stories of your past? Well, let me tell you. Two words sum this up. Little River.
You see, without fail, my trips past Little River on my way to Geelong or Anglesea would result in my stopping to purchase and comsume a doughnut from the caravan parked either side the Highway.
Jam doughnuts, covered in sugar, on a hot day during summer, or during a cold cold winters evening coming home from Geelong, i'd stop and sample the delights of what the man in the caravan had. The Little River Doughnut caravans were an instiution.
This past Sunday, with the car full with my friends, travelling to Geelong, i saw a brand new service station on both sides of the Highway. The caravan was no where in sight. I pulled into the service station and around the ample parking lot behind it, hoping that the next corner would reveal the doughnut caravan, but alas, it was no where to be seen. The Little River Doughnut caravan has vanished, without a trace.
A little piece of me childhood died yesterday. Big business is the murderer, but i will always have the memories of the caravan and his wares. That hot jam doughnut, covered in sugar, that for nearly 24 years exsisted in the flesh, now only exsists in my mind.
Let me take you back...
*insert flashback music here*
When i was a young boy, i used to travel to Anglesea for my family holiday. We'd meet my Grandparents there, and i would spend my days on the beach, in the water, building sand castles in the sun. I was about 3.
As life progressed, the trips to Anglesea grew less, however, as i flick through the memories of my life, i can see myself playing beach cricket, with a specially made grey nic bat that was given to our family by friends of my mother. We'd spend the nights around the campsite and sleep in a caravan. I was bout 7.
Futher on we travel, to the few and far between trips now made to Anglesea, to spend time out in a fishing boat, almost catching a mako shark in one outing, but going home with a squid instead. I was about 15.
In between these years, down that same road to Anglesea, my father would take me to a handful of Geelong V Bulldog matches at Kadinia Park. Probably about 4 all up, maybe more, but not many more.
There have been countless other trips to Geelong. With my mother, for a shopping trip, with my good friend TADS so she could experience Geelong, quite a few trips made down that very road.
What does this all have in common i hear you ask, and why are you boring us with stories of your past? Well, let me tell you. Two words sum this up. Little River.
You see, without fail, my trips past Little River on my way to Geelong or Anglesea would result in my stopping to purchase and comsume a doughnut from the caravan parked either side the Highway.
Jam doughnuts, covered in sugar, on a hot day during summer, or during a cold cold winters evening coming home from Geelong, i'd stop and sample the delights of what the man in the caravan had. The Little River Doughnut caravans were an instiution.
This past Sunday, with the car full with my friends, travelling to Geelong, i saw a brand new service station on both sides of the Highway. The caravan was no where in sight. I pulled into the service station and around the ample parking lot behind it, hoping that the next corner would reveal the doughnut caravan, but alas, it was no where to be seen. The Little River Doughnut caravan has vanished, without a trace.
A little piece of me childhood died yesterday. Big business is the murderer, but i will always have the memories of the caravan and his wares. That hot jam doughnut, covered in sugar, that for nearly 24 years exsisted in the flesh, now only exsists in my mind.
