CYCLONE! SEX! SUNDALE CINEMA!

                     

              1974                     

Cyclonic rain had been bucketing down for days!

Everywhere you looked, there was water!

Finally, we were alerted by the sounds of screaming sirens, over the radio, and television, telling us, to batten down!

             The 1974 Floods Were On Their Way!

           

We were advised to stock up with food, candles, torches, portable stoves, and anything needed to survive the days ahead.

We were told to lift, and stack, whatever furniture we could,

up on to tables, or benches, for protection against the

 possibility of water flowing or rushing through our homes!

 People who lived in waterfront homes, on canals and rivers,

 were to be aware of rising waters. They were advised to gather whatever was needed, or, treasured, and to be prepared 

to leave, or get out, anyway they could, at a minutes notice!

We lived in a riverfront home!

I looked out the kitchen window, and saw with horror, 

that our river was rising!

It did have a way to go, but it was on it's way up to the back door!

Oh my god! I started to panic, wondering what to do first.

I had never, been in, or ever seen a cyclone or flood before! 

We had only just settled into this house, and there I was scared witless, thinking that we may have to bail out!

Oh my god! What about my Chiswell Dining suite!

 My pride and joy, with its six chairs, their seats upholstered in purple leather?

 Or, was it vinyl? Whatever!

 I had worked so hard to pay for it, and I had visions of the whole suite, floating down the river!

                                     *   *   *  

It was only a few months before, that my second husband and I

 had bought, and moved into this little waterfront house.

 It was so appealing to live here, on the Gold Coast,

 and to be away from the hustle of Sydney.

The plan was, as I was led to believe, that our ten year

 old daughter Janelle, and I would live up here, and he would commute to Sydney, in order to run his business.

This, sounded good to me. We had been married 

for sixteen years, and our relationship had been going quite

 sour for some time.

I don't want, or mean, to put all of the blame on him,

 but, let's face it,  he was a self indulgent, mean, and egotistical bore!

 I had been married twice, and to the same type of man.

  So, believe me, I know meanness, when I see it!

They were both in show biz.  The first, a musician, and the second, a singer.  And, both born on exactly the same date!

I know what you are thinking! 

How could she get it wrong twice!

When it comes to choosing a husband, I, am a dead set loser! 

Anyhow, my husband was up here on one of his 'visits' when the rains came.

All roads leading in and out of the city were flooded

 and blocked, which meant that he could not return to Sydney.

At the time, I felt relieved when he had to stay,

 as I really needed some help, to cope with this scary situation.

Holiday makers, and tourists, were stranded, and the ones who did try to brave the elements, and leave for elsewhere, 

found that they had to stay put, wherever they got stuck.

Some were swept away in their cars!

Some made it, and sadly, some did not!

 Many of the tourists who remained here,

 entertained themselves by wading through the flooded streets, or, by driving around, sightseeing, and watching the devastation that was happening to others.

Warnings and reports were coming over the radio,

 and television, advising people, not to drive around the flooded streets as the wake of the moving vehicles was pushing the water further along and into the homes.

Parts of the Gold Coast Highway, the main drag,

 that runs along the strip, were flooded.

'Boats', were lined up at the main traffic lights, 

at Broadbeach ready to sail, or motor, up and down the streets, 

of the inland suburbs, to rescue people who were stranded on the roofs of their canal fronted homes.

                               
                                                    *  *  *

The street that we lived in, meandered closely along,

 the bend of the river.

I was busy watching our river as it rose up, and over the

 retaining wall.  It was coming closer, by the minute, 

to the back door of our house. 

Suddenly, I heard some noise and shouts coming from the front of the house.

 I ran to see what was happening, and to my shock, I saw that the front lawn, and street was flooding!

The water had broken the banks at the bend of the river, 

at the end of our street. It was like a 'backwash' coming towards us!

It flowed over the lawn, heading for the front of the house. I watched helplessly as it swilled into the courtyard that led to the front door!

By this time, I was not only soaking wet, I was also hysterical! 

I ran, and splashed through the flooding courtyard, screaming for my husband. Where was he?

  The door opened, and the smell of Brut aftershave nearly knocked me out! 

 Here he was, all showered, shaved, and ready to go!

'Are you going out?' I shrieked!

'Yes I am!' he answered.

 'Where in the hell are you going?' I shrieked again,

 almost choking on the rain that was pounding into my face!

'I'm going to the movies,' he said.

' What?.....did you say you're going to the movies? I gasped.

'Yes! 'The Last Tango In Paris' is in its last days at Sundale Cinema, and I can't miss it!'

Spitting out a mouthful of water I gurgled,

 'The Last Tango?... In Paris?'

'Yes. You know the one with Marlon Brando?'

With that he picked up his thongs, tucked a rolled towel

 under his arms and began wading through the flooded courtyard, and hurriedly towards his teal green valiant station wagon.

Dumbfounded, I watched as he climbed into his car,

 slammed the door, and quickly took off, 

trailing a wake behind him, 

as he went!


Just as my daughter was hurriedly collecting her David Cassidy posters and scrapbooks, our neighbour cloaked in industrial strength raincoat and hat clutching a lantern knocked on our back door.


"Hi Bette, just wondering if Keith could give me a hand with the boat!  I'm off to do some evacuations!"


I did not know what to say. 
 My 'community concious' husband had just left to carry out some very important 'business' with Marlon Brando!  And here was I stranded with my Chiswell dining suite, a collection of Partridge Family records, and a house that may flood at any time!


"I'm sorry Barry, Keith has had to go to the movies!"
With a baffled look on his face, Barry said "OK!" and turned and left my back door.


I think that was the day I realised once and for all, that my marriage was a farce and that this man was not only boring and selfish, but quite possibly mentally deranged!


The good news is that the Chiswell dining suite was ultimately saved from floating down the Biggera River, and the David Cassidy paraphernalia remained safe until 1976, when my daughter decided that her reputation could not possibly be compromised by the mere possession of such things, and they ended up as land fill!


My husband and I finally divorced, and the 'Last Tango in Paris' went on to become one of the most controversial films of the 1970's!