Livin’ next door to the ‘finger

I know I rambled on about how Jenny Crusie led me back to an old friend. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I blithered about the size of the world and stuff. But this, this really is another one of those ‘gee isn’t the world a really teeny weeny place sort of moments. And they keep happening! 

Is it a sign?

A friend of mine once lived in Toowong, right next door to a young Bernard Fanning. A young pre-Powderfinger BF taught my friend about Cricket and all the rules of the game.  While My friend and his huge speakers blasted Kiss and AC/DC BF explained the twelfth man, fast bowling, and legs before wickets.

Now maybe if BF had taught me all about Cricket, I’d be interested in the world’s most mindbendingly tedious game (next to Curling, natch) on the face of the globe, but no, I had to be exposed to the Windies one day match as my first Cricket experience.  Suicide was not an option. However, I finally understood why people choose alcohol to numb the pain. 

Time to stop for drinks? 

Thank God.

So wait, there’s more. This one-time Toowong resident took his Aussie wife back to Toledo (Home of the Mudhens and Jeep), where said wife became the masters advisor to my cousin.  

So how’s that amazing? Well, if it weren’t for the Toowong boy from Toledo, I never would have met Shrinky-dink. Happiness never would have been mine. 

I think it’s time to cue the Disney music again…Duff beer for me, Duff beer for you…I’ll have a Duff you have one too..

Leave a Reply