Bunker bulldust day 186

Cunderdin, 1955. Oh, to be slim again.

Turned out nice, din’ it? Rain this morning but warming up now. Great!


Dammit, once again I’ve been turned away at shops near me. They don’t want my business.

In the first case, I went to have lunch at the Coffee Club at Butler Junction at 2.25pm. When I asked if they’re open, it was “Take away only, we close in five minutes.” They close this coffee lounge/restaurant at 2.30pm! This is about the fourth time this has happened. The result is that I won’t go back again.

Then I went to get a haircut. I didn’t realise it’s a women’s hairdresser but they have a sign at the front saying Men’s Haircuts $20. OK, I went in and said, “When can you do me?” The answer was not until 4.30pm. Two bloody hours away! Again, I said No thanks and walked out.

Recession? Slow business? They don’t want our business. What a joke. I’ll just take my business elsewhere.


Happier times. About 1962.

I’ve been preparing all the images for the next Croft History volume, number 3, 1955 to around 1980, 149 of them. The standard size of the pre-purchase books is 40 pages but I might need to buy the next size up, 80 pages. I’ll be able to write a lot more text for this volume because obviously, I remember more.

I reckon I’ve spent three full eight hour days doing this preparation. One day I’ll enumerate all the steps involved. Phew, it’s a lot. And the number of mouse clicks! Thousands, maybe tens of thousands. But I love doing it.

What a pity our family bonds have been shattered by the actions of my siblings. You can see we were a happy family once, but since around 2000 we have been driven apart by the arrogant belief in the right to interfere in my life and the need for vengeance against men on the one hand, and the love of money and tax avoidance on the other. I am very, very distressed by this. Extremely upset!

The result is that I don’t think my family members will see these books before I die, or they die. Pity. I’m seeing the lawyer on Friday to make my will up to date and to ensure it can’t be challenged.


Last issue.

A few years ago I found a British magazine called Modern Classics which is devoted to cars from around 1990 to 2010. They reckon, and I heartily agree, those were the golden years for cars. You could buy real sports cars with manual transmissions and open tops if you wanted them. Performance was king, the styling (my main interest) was refined and beautiful.

I bought many paper copies from around 2015 and then a year ago bought a digital subscription to save on costs and wasted paper. The magazine celebrated its 20th year with the August issue.

You guessed it, it’s gone. Bloody German company Bauer Media owned it and they’ve continued their blundering bad management, closing it down. They’ve done the same thing in Australia, buying up many magazine titles, managing them badly, losing money hand over fist and then closing them down. This is a pathetically badly run company that has lost a lot of people their money and cost many journalists their jobs.

Luckily, the final issue of Modern Classics happened to coincide with the end of my year’s subscription. They’ve offered to change my sub to Car magazine but I haven’t decided yet. I’m not much interested in modern cars, I wanted the Modern Classics era. If I want modern cars, I’d buy Wheels but they write stuff for the boy racers, mainly, or for people who can afford $100K or more for a car. Damn.


I’ve got the plumber coming tomorrow to unblock my toilet, I hope. I’ve found a new toilet that I’d like if we decide to simply replace it. More news as it happens.


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