http://www.adbmag.com.au JUNE 2019| 161
REDMOND’S RANT REAR GUARD
I AIN’T NO HYPOCRITE!
metheyhitthelights.I’monly 800 metres
frombaconanda stubby.I askmyself“oh
whyLord!Whydoyoumockme?”Sobythe
timetheyrollaroundI amoutfrontof
Dook’scastle.Dookseesa brightorange
Chargerbeingstoppedbya copperin his
driveway.HeyellstoMrsDook,“Uncle
Redmondis here,kids”.
Letthegamesbegin.TheGenY mattress
humpercoptellsmestraightawayheis
bookingmeforreversingtoofar!I almost
laughandbegintowonderwhetherI’m
being‘punked’.SoonI realisethisguyis
seriousandgoingtowritemeup.Infact,
it’sprobablythe100thtraffic fineI have
received.SATURDAY MORNING, hung
over I stumble out of bed and
into the kitchen to pour myself
a cup o’ ambition. I yawn,
stretch and try to come to life.
My nephew Dook just moved
back to Townsville so he invited
me around for a bacon and egg
breakfast house warming. That is the
thing about siblings, they are co-
conspirators with all things cubby house,
fort and BMX when you are young. Then,
as time rolls by, they give you the greatest
gift ever, nieces and nephews!
A nephew is proof a man can love
another man with out wearing a rainbow
t-shirt. I love my nephews and nieces more
than free beer. We are a close family and
this particular nephew, Dook, lived with me
for a while during his last years of high
school. He subsequently joined the Defence
Force, left Townsville and married a
beautiful (good humored) girl and even
produced a pair of champion boys (that
happen to be great nephews).
So recently Dook returned to Townsville
and bought himself a little castle. The funny
thing is, when he lived here eight years ago
my kitchen light was broken. He returned
home to fi nd the same light is still broken.
In the eight years he’s been away, he’s
completed a trade, managed to get hitched
and started a family while I still haven’t
fi xed the light! I tell him it’s because I’ve got
a 20-year mortgage, so there’s no rush.
As I sip a coffee, my nephews, Bull and
Dook, are telling me to come to Dook’s
house for bacon ‘n’ eggs and a stubby – the
holy (holley) trinity. So with my mouth
watering and visions of an 8am frothy I
head off to Dook’s new castle. Twenty
minutes later I pull up to Dook’s house in a
1972 muscle car with cops behind me, lights
and sirens. Do you expect any less?
Because I was yet to visit Dook’s house
and I’m too stupid to use Google maps I just
drove around until his instructions made
sense. I overshot his street but at the last
second I saw the street sign. I stopped and
reversed back about 20 metres to his
street and started steering the bright
orange 1972 Valiant Charger into his street.
I spotted a Toyota Camry cop car cruising,
no biggie as I am licensed, registered,
insured and legal. As the coppers sail pastWHO IS REDMOND? HE’S A BEER DRINKING, DIRTBIKING, UTE DRIVING ALL-ROUND GOOD AUSSIE BLOKE WHO LOVES ADB.
HE’S MADE US LAUGH FOR YEARS SO WE THOUGHT WE’D SHARE THE LAUGHS HE GIVES US WITH YOU, EVERY MONTH!EVERYBODY
LOVES
REDMONDDook sees a bright
orange Charger
being stopped
by a copper in
his driveway. He
yells to Mrs Dook,
“Uncle Redmond is
here kids”
As luck would have it, the patrol car they
were driving had two absolutely wrecked
rims. I start bellyaching about how
destroyed THEIR car is with wrecked rims
and fi lthy glass plus more brake dust then
888 (Gen Y cannot drive).
They (correctly) ignore me. While I stick it
to them, they are too dim to have a look at
the Charger. It’s got more faults than my
DIY concrete. It’s a 1972 Charger so to them
it might as well be a Led Zep album.
In the end I cop it sweet and take the $48
fi ne. I guess it’s the ying to my yang. As
anyone who knows me will tell you, I have
done some outrageous things in cars. For
me to bellyache about a traffi c fi ne would
be akin to Jay Cutler winging about juice in
Mr O comp. I hate hypocrites.
I am home now cooking lamb shanks and
having a snort o whisky. The Gen Y copper
who booked me is probably posting
something on FB like; “Me and my BFF
booked this silly ol’ fart today, LOL!”. I
guess I can justify this by knowing the stuff
I have gotten away with on the street. To
claim high moral ground is just pure
hypocriticism. But still, $48 is a carton!