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Old History is like New History



The Old History is still the New History - Last night I went to a Leagues club with D, where we met up with three guys that we used to go to High School with, but had not seen for years. D had more to do with them than I did, but after six years plus of school, I knew them, and so I tagged along for the curiosity aspect. Sadly, I was well remembered by one of them, by A. He had recently seen the film that I was an extra in, Footy Legends, and had recognised me there, fleshing out the down and out crowds. I had a good five, maybe ten seconds of screen time, he reckons, which I suppose means I now have a remaining five seconds of universal limelight left. Everyone had a good laugh over that, but there isn't much to say about the rest of the night. We were just a bunch of guys who went to school and only had that in common. I caught up on the alcoholics, on the drug programs, on the failed and successful marriages, and the children. No one appeared to have done anything else of note so we had a few drinks and left shortly after the shitty cover band began. At one point in the night, I found myself standing in front of a large, wooden mural, the kind where figures had been carved into an almost three dimension likeness. Serious 70s ugly, but done very recently, when the Leagues Club was updated in the last couple of years. The mural was a celebration of early Australian Settlement, and came complete with tall ships, kookaburras, kangaroos, sheep, and Ned Kelly. I can't impress the awfulness of it on you, and I wish I had a camera with me for it. I must've stood there for a good ten minutes, staring at it horrified. When one of the guys came up to me, I asked him if knew what was missing. After a couple of minutes, I had to tell him that there were no Aboriginals. No convicts, either.