Email to:Culture Wars: Riverina Bachelorhood!
Could this be the best ever obit for a (non-Riverina) Bachelor…….?
‘It is not known whether Max Whitehead was ever besieged by couples seeking to have him sire their children – the experience of Charles Atlas – but Max Whitehead, the original model for Chesty Bond, was known to have a ‘quick sidestep’.
Blessed with a glorious physique, he also excelled at using it, as a surf lifesaver, rugby league player and wrestler…
Like Chesty Bond of the cartoon world, he rescued damsels in distress…..
Max Riddington, a one-time captain and president of the Manly Surf Life Saving Club, said Whitehead never married because of his sidestep (evasive action). ”He had some lovely ladies but he felt that sort of life was not for him,” Riddington said.’
*Please, please click ‘ere for the full Max Whitehead tribute or you might not understand my piece which (just quietly) I spent quite a bit of time on…..
http://www.smh.com.au/national/obituaries/chesty-bond-was-a-gentle-giant-20100502-u1an.html
Now, back to me………
Mister Chesty Bond!
What a guy! What a bod! What demeanour! And how’s that ‘quick sidestep’? Sure wish I was a good 30 years older……
Thing is though, let’s not get too carried away. For the reality is there were other trailblazing Bachelor Chesty Bonders in Leeton when I still Miss No Chesty Nothin’.
(Leeton’s Bachelor Chesty Bonders’ Convention 1967: Cr: Magic Liwanag: flickr)
Thing is, they’ve never had their due – until now.
Sadly (at best) the Riverina Bachelor Chesty Bonders were barely tolerated: allowed, even encouraged, to buy tickets in family hamper raffles but denied the booty if their numbers came up. At worst, Bachelor Chesty Bonders were treated cruelly, ostracised:
[Wazza to Wife Barb] ’There’s no waaay, no waaaay Rod’s comin’ to the barbie….NO WAAAY…..
I’m NOT gunna sit there watchin’ you hangin’ off his every word AND humiliatin’ me mates by (you Barb) givin’ him the best T-Bone. No waay, NO WAAAY!’
*Ed’s note: Please be aware that the demographic in kerriejean’s spotlight today is heterosexual Bachelor Chesty Bonders.
By age 18, the other single Leeton Chesty Bonders were all gone. Flushed parents told anyone who’d listen how well Neil was doing at Art School in Melbourne. Having a ball in digs shared with Qantas stewards called Justin or Tim.
The truth?
Neil would never be home again, not even for Christmas. He was (with good reason) scared for his very life if he ever dared re-embrace his hometown.
Meanwhile – despite Wazza’s misgivings - our other Bachelor Chesty Bonders had NO intention of being run out Leeton.
Quite the opposite.
These bons vivants aimed to – and did – provide superb community service.
Because – despite Wazza’s misgivings – there were married women sporting the most powerful combo of characteristics known to humankind: audacity and desperation.
For them, the Bachelor Chesty Bonders – whose primal appetites were dramatically juxtaposed by their civilized taste in jazzy sports jackets and spectacularly striped ties - were Godsends.
Some well-known Bachelor Chesty Bonders even assumed the rarified status of ‘Dancing Partner’.
AND the wondrous thing?
Wazza could raise all Hell all day every day if he felt so inclined, BUT there was a question he would never EVER dare ask: Namely:
Has my Pantswoman Barb fallen for Pantsman Rod? (Rod in the brightly coloured moccasins….)
*Ed’s note. For kerriejean, journalistic ethics have always been far more than glossy pamphlets.
So, in the interests of full disclosure, she’s compelled to point out that Hec was the Riverina’s Bachelor Of The Decade six times! He was in his mid-thirties when a bright little sexpot called Gwennie brought his illustrious bachelor career to a screaming halt.
Very, very late for ‘the times’…
And kerriejean is anxious to impart that Hec was NEVER anybody’s dancing partner. When Gwennie came bursting through his heart he accepted that the world (as he knew and loved it) would come crashing down. BUT, he was to regain it (and more!) when human rights groups put an end to the draconian six o’clock pub closing rules.
In the meantime:
‘Ladies and gentlemen of the beautiful Riverina take your partners for the Al Grassby Quick (Side) Step! ’
************************************************
*As in the bloggers’ lot throughout the world, I await news……..
Particularly interested in hearing from contemporary Pantsmen and Pantswomen who want to pay tribute to those who chose the lifestyle when it wasn’t easy at all. Things may be great for YOU but that doesn’t mean the pioneering Pantsmen and Pantswomen shouldn’t be acknowledged.
And – as usual - I’d love report backs from the nooks and crannies that constitute your lives. Thanks to the new posters who’ve come in here of late. Appreciated? SURE!
All posters take a deep breath…and just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it
Prawn Cutlet Award
May 3rd, 2010 at 2:33 pm
Yes indeedy, Ms KJ.
TODAY, a classic of the ‘Pantsman Genre’ will speak for us all.
I was dancin’ with my darlin’ to the Tennessee Waltz
When an old friend I happened to see
I introduced her to my loved one
And while they were dancin’
My friend stole my sweetheart from me.
May 3rd, 2010 at 3:38 pm
Mizkerriejeanmizmeattrayjesjokin,
Darvish dancing okay for all peoples, okay?
Yesirreebobtruedat Mister Chesty Bond Monk!
And greetings to all the other Bachelor Chesty Bonders at The Monasterie, Al Gundagai. KJ.
May 3rd, 2010 at 4:44 pm
KJ, you are mental.
Greek and loving it,
I’M mental?
You of the homeland that can NO longer even pay the hommus bill…YOU of the homeland where the tradition of The Pantsman was born (along with Grecian Urns and Doric Columns).
So I AM mental? No I’m NOT, NO I’m NOT…..
(Though….I will admit to a difficult time of late……)
Isn’t it AWFUL the way bad things come in threes?
Firstly, it was a phantom pregnancy, then my dental bridge collapsed and becoming lodged in my lower jaw……and then, The Rev Kev released the Henry Tax Review which kept me up all night worrying……and number crunching……worrying…..and number crunching……worrying………
So (again) PLEASE refrain from coming in here and making EXAGGERATED claims.
*Excuse me, there’s someone at the door. ‘Come any closer and I swear to God I can’t guarantee your safety, swear to God I can’t!’
Have a nice night, KJ.
May 3rd, 2010 at 6:04 pm
A strapping young man that Max Whitehead – I’m sure he was also very bright if only given half the chance.
I’m up to my chesty bonds in assessments but also supposed to be writing a one-hour lecture on Mobagogy – teaching with mobile technology for those of you who don’t know…….
Perhaps I can give the lecture to the students on their mobiles? What a Foucauldian good idea…..
Dear The Lonely Scholar,
Mister Bachelor Chesty Bond, Max Whitehead, was not only bright – he was a GENIUS…..
May I quote?
‘Whitehead once told journalist Steve Warnock that his wrestling partner in the US happened to be the lover of Mae West, then in her 60s but ageing well. When the partner went away for a week, he asked Whitehead to look after her. Whitehead turned up to her home, where she apparently looked after him.’
KJ.
May 4th, 2010 at 8:16 am
It’s time for another Festival!
Flat out now organizing the Leeton Chesty Bond Look-A-Like competition.
Entries rolling in.
Dear TGM,
In light of the latest polls, may I add Mr Ab-Doman – Muscular Christian & Iron Man – to the list? KJ.
May 4th, 2010 at 1:47 pm
Amazing how we connect an actor with a line….
It stays there forever, and I don’t mean ‘Play It Again Sam’, because Humphrey never said it.
When I see a picture of Paul Newman I immediately think of the jail captain saying to Cool Hand Luke ‘What we’ve got here is… failure to communicate.’
A few years back after a wake I met Ray Meagher in a pub with his mates.
He was a really good bloke. The meeting did not eventuate into a friendship, just a chance meeting.
But I could not get out of my mind as I looked at him, ‘Give me one good reason why I should not knock your block off.’
Congrats on the Gold Logie, Ray. Forty years of yakka.
Not cool, but fair dinkum.
Cool Hand Luke, asked why he was cutting the heads off parking meters said:
Small town, not much to do in the evenin’.
Here’s are some other quotes from Cool Hand Luke.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0061512/quotes
Dear Chadwick,
As a teenager, when I was cutting the head off Leeton’s ONLY parking meter, I was downright grateful:
‘Small town, PLENTY to do in the evenin’……’ KJ.
May 4th, 2010 at 4:00 pm
All men look at their best when gardening….
This struck me as I rode my bike – whoosh! whoosh! – along the river nearly mowing down half a dozen extremely hirsute landcare men (or were they?)
I don’t know what they’re fertilising those dreadlocks with but identifying them would make chicken sexing seem a breeze.
Dear The Lonely Scholar,
DISAGREE!
‘Gardening Australia’ is surely the most extreme ‘erotic free’ zone on Western television. They’re all so jolly, SO enthusiastic…..and wouldn’t dare pick up a can of naughty Mortein even if their mothers’ lives depended on it…..
I really think you should get out more – you won’t find ANYTHING exciting along (or near) a bike track. KJ.
May 5th, 2010 at 6:20 am
There were locusts on the barbie,
When I got home last night….
They poppin’ and a jumpin’
Oh Boy, oh, what a fright!
(So I put Mortein on the hoppers,
For my Culinary Delight).
May 5th, 2010 at 7:47 am
Dear Miss KJ,
The night they laid old Chesty down a few of us old Carnts gathered at the club to pay our respects.
We’re all of an age when to be called a CONFIRMED BACHELOR is worn as a badge of pride….
We know some some obituary writers have suggested that Old Chesty lost the plot when he lost his day job of being a Chicken Sexer – apparently, like mining profits, chicken sexing went off shore some years ago….
I know some of the snider membes of the literati have been reading between the lines and wondering if Chesty Bond – in the great tradition of Hollywood Hunks like Rock Hudson – was really a DEAD SET SHIRT.
(Incidentally KJ, all us Old Carnts were agreed that you are not like that, and are far more sympathetic to the male condition, complex as it is).
In fact the ’side step’ was only one Key Performance Indicator in a Chesty skill set that the modern HR manager would do well to take note of……
I’m thinkin’:
The Grubber (just when you’re not expecting nothin’, he slips one through)
The Dummy (not as thick as he looks)
The Hand off (only used in desperate situations)
The Change of Pace (keeps ‘em guessin’)
We’ll never see the likes of Old Chesty again, which is why it behoves all of us to get behind The Ginger Man’s Chesty Bond competition….
In fact, I’d like to go further – and call for a NATIONAL CHESTY BOND DAY, when all the real men of Australia rise up and take to the streets wearing nothing but Chesty Bonds – I guarantee lead stories on all national networks – whatever that disgusting media slut The Rev Kev happens to be up to on the day.
I remain,
Yours sincerely,
The O.C.
Dear The Old Carnt,
As usual, a magnificent effort under (what appears to be) shocking conditions.
*All gals bought up in the Murrumbigee Irrigation Area (MIA) are MORE empathatic to the complexities of nature, best symbolised by the mysteries of the male condition.
From a very young age, we understood the vicissitudes of too little or (too much) run off, rising (or falling) water tables….ALL largely determined – but never COMPLETELY controlled – by the power, the magnificence of The Snowy.
……To forget these things is to forget life itself. KJ.
May 5th, 2010 at 11:33 am
Dear KJ,
Thought it imperative that you should hear from someone who is not ‘KNOCKIN’ ON HEAVEN’S DOOR’…..polite way of saying that your age demographic, thank the Tardis, is NOT mine.
KJ, we have often clashed …but – on this occasion – we meet on common ground.
Greek and loving it has a major case of TRANSFERENCE…….
Agree – The Lonely Scholar, ‘You really should get out some more’ and NOT just to the local bowlo.
(Students are lucky that technological advances – ie Mobagopy – ensure that they don’t have to face-off with ‘ol’ Lones’!!!!)
The Big Lebowski leads me into THE Golden Rule of Contemporary Clubbing….thou shalt not steal thy Neighbour’s Pantsman.
*Who cares ’bout the cerebrals at the time of the dervish? (nice one The Chief Monk).
As for the great Maxy Whitehead, the Club Covern would like to make it known that Life Membership is yours – albeit a little late.
Love,
Fanny.
Dear Fanny,
Let it be known that forthwith I declare you our Clerk of Correspondence. Congratulations. KJ.
May 5th, 2010 at 2:34 pm
Dear KJ,
Before accepting role of CLERK OF CORRESPONDENCE I need to know a few things:
WHY ME and:
1. Is it prestigious????????
2. What does it entail????????
3. (See above) Salary Package??????????????
4.Will it get me entry into more clubs/fast track my Degree?
* I await reply from Grand Poo Miss KJ.
Fanny.
Dear Fanny,
Why you? Because everyone in here respects you for the attention you give their missives……
What do you get? You get – after four years in the prestigious C of C position – a night out at your favourite club with……THE KNUCKLE.
KJ.
May 5th, 2010 at 6:14 pm
Came downstairs as An Act Of Courage.
Why, why, why, why?
WHY?
Back upstairs to the man-eatin’ doona.
Dear, dear The Knuckle,
Please remain – as usual – on high alert. In just four years time, you will be tearing up the dance floor at Miss Fanny’s favourite nightspot. KJ.
May 5th, 2010 at 7:00 pm
Just had a closer look a the pic you’ve put in your post.
What is that young man at the front wearing on his head?
Dear Greek and loving it,
It is a contemporary re-working of male headdress peculiar to Ancient Greece.
The original adornments were a powerful representation of male potency and courage, worn by leaders into battles.
If such warriors died in the field, their headdresses were returned to grieving wives. Anthropologists say that such wives used these tokens of Greek strength and sacrifice as herb planters – inverting the headdresses and filling them with Classical potting mix. KJ.
May 5th, 2010 at 7:09 pm
Folks, I’m doing a roaring trade in chin prosthetics as part of the Chesty Bond-Look-A-Like Festival Launch in Leeton.
Nurse Try Do is my assistant.
Also my new book, ‘Try Do – Grow A Chin For Mama’, is a sellout.
How sweet it is!
May 6th, 2010 at 6:31 am
Calling The Rev Kev, Calling The Rev Kev.
Ground Poll Control to The Rev Kev.
Where the Bloody Hell are You?
Ode to ETS?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFvozwv0DPs
May 6th, 2010 at 1:18 pm
What a lovely pic and one that would not have looked out of place on a float at the long gone by but never forgotten Irrigana Festivals.
Was never a Chesty Bond type of guy….
More a portly sort as in one of your former articles.
Not that I mind as it is genetically transmitted in my family and I’m told by my nearest and dearest that it keeps her warm at night.
Vale Chesty, however, gone the way of the Pelaco shirt.
Dear Stoney Point,
Wonderful to hear from a happy fella – happy with with his bod, life buddy and life in general. Have ya ever thought of going on the lecture circuit?
Local historians assure me that Leeton’s Irrigana Festival (circa 1950s) was set up to rival Rio’s Carnival but the dream soured after only a few years because the Town Band couldn’t get the samba right.
* You may be interested to know that you can STILL get that cuddly bod into a Pelaco shirt. Still Australian owned but now INTERNATIONAL. The best Pelacos ever made? Those plain pastels of the seventies (or around then).
For your perusal:
http://www.pelaco.com.au/index.wsp/shop?page=Static&tab=PELACO&ParStory&refams=swf:=PELSTORY
KJ.
May 6th, 2010 at 2:56 pm
Dude mate – good to hear from a fellow Aussie in these extraordinarily difficult times….
You ask, where I’ve been? – good question mate.
As ever, I’ve been out and about talking to fellow Aussies – you may have seen me marching with the good cleaning folk of Brissie on May Day…..
Ya know what? I was a cleaner once – Big Laurie Oakes was a client!
And this is what makes Australia such a great country – you can go from cleaning out Laurie Oakes’ shithouse to being PM and lording it over the best dunny in the land at The Lodge.
Recently I’ve been hearing voices – and they’ve been getting louder and louder – and I’m not talking about Tony ‘ONE BIG TAX’ Six Pack……
It’s truly been a REVELATION….
I have just discovered that all us Aussies Dudes (Mate) actually own Australia!
Now this is Really Big News…..
For a long time most of the best brains thought that to own a nice big chunk of this great brown land you had to live OS AND preferably be a Lord – remember the one who rhymes with Chesty – Vesty).
But these voices kept telling me: REV KEV REV KEV – IT’S OURS IT’S ALL OURS.
This is fantastic news for working families…..
Yes (of course) there’ll be a lot of whingeing from the usual suspects – the Rios, the BHPs and their running dog friends in the fascistic capitalistic bosses’ media – some are even suggesting that The Rev Kev is a Com!
Fair crack of the old battered sav!
And who said: I wouldn’t do that?
Just watch me.
The Rev Dr ‘Aussie’ Kev.
(So fear not Dudey me old mate)
Dear The Rev Kev,
Good heavens above! You REALLY are in a state…….any MORE worked up and you’ll start claiming that you and Therese -on your usual walk in the moonlight – just happened to stumble on Lasseter’s Reef….which will be cut up into eight million pieces and distributed to the working families of Australia during the election campaign.
What I’m saying to you is this – be very, very careful….
A hint….
When I’m under enormous, unrelenting pressure I neither say nor do ANYTHING for up to six days. In other words, I provide NO AMMO for anyone – family, friends, bosses and even chance acquaintances who just don’t the cut of my jib.
Suddenly, they’re ALL starved of the pathetic oxygen they so need.
So, how ’bout you pack those appalling (front-pleated) beige duds away until at least Wednesday – and enjoy some quality Lodge time?
Seriously (maaaate…..)
KJ.
May 6th, 2010 at 7:33 pm
Go swimming in the surf
Get stung by the City of Gonads
(Life’s full of goods and bads)
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2010/05/05/2891299.htm
May 6th, 2010 at 10:49 pm
The Rev Kev,
Thank you for re-emerging for us.
NOW, heard you on the radio (AGAINST KJ’s advice) asking men in The Shed, Apricot or Raspberry?
Wrong question, with respect.
You should be asking:
Do you want a piece of Ayss?
That Piece of Ayss being a large chunk of Iron Ore on the Left Buttock of Australia?
Now, that’s what a call a real piece of Ayss…….
Dear The Dude,
My position is clear, unequivocal……
I DEMAND a piece of Lasseter’s Reef. KJ.
May 7th, 2010 at 9:14 am
Dearest friend KJ,
Could you ask Fanny this question: Can we make it a threesome when lucky Fanny gets a gig with The Knuckle?
As always.
Marry Me.
Marry Me,
WHOA! So, you want The Knuckle’s man-eatin’ doona to be integral to the action? WHOA! KJ.
May 7th, 2010 at 10:40 am
Came downstairs as An Act Of Courage.
Scar-eeeee.
Back upstairs to the (apparently under threat!) man-eatin’ doona.
May 7th, 2010 at 11:18 am
BBC News tells me there is a 5 per cent swing from Labour, and that 4 per cent of people have Neanderthal genes.
But how are they voting?
Dear The Dude,
From my understanding, in the traditional way – at polling booths. KJ.
May 7th, 2010 at 11:28 am
Stoney Point….what is the Irrigana Festival?
May 7th, 2010 at 12:10 pm
My Dear The Knuckle,
Do NOT be afraid.
Not Scar-eeeee, just little ol’ Marry Me.
I am the best friend a man could have … even more friendly than a bed cover (of any type).
See you soon,
Marry Me.
Now Marry Me, listen to Missy KJ…….listen closely to Missy KJ,
I’d prefer to be policing NRL salary caps than having to continually quote the one rule of this forum. And that is (I repeat) no-one is allowed to use it as a pick-up site EXCEPT Missy KJ.
*I would hate to be in the position of being left with NO choice but to ban you from kerriejean.com – sad, because I need all the posters I can get AND disappointing because ALL social media rely on community trust. Missy KJ.
May 7th, 2010 at 6:26 pm
While we await further news….
My old newspaper, ‘The Mirror’, found it was not getting any answers from Mr Posh. He chickened out from answering reporters’ questions so it sent a Chicken on his trail. The result?
http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/general-election/features/2010/05/07/mirror-chicken-how-our-plucky-clucker-fowled-up-david-cameron-s-election-campaign-115875-22239826/
Dear Chadwick,
Great to have a REAL tabloid man operating in here.
Have you ever thought of presenting your credentials to Radio National? KJ.
May 7th, 2010 at 8:13 pm
Came downstairs as an Act Of Courage.
KJ,
Please do not intervene.
It has been a long time between drinks.
Back upstairs to the man-eatin’ doona…..
Cheap Mr Knuckle, CHEAP! KJ.
May 8th, 2010 at 10:06 am
KJ But, but…..
The Knuckle is NOT offended. Quite the opposite!
Still – I, Marry Me, hereby promise to adhere to the rules set down by my great friend KJ.
Love to EVERYONE – is that ok?
Marry Me.
Marry Me,
Let’s just leave it at that……..
I thought I had a quality blog…..
Perhaps you and The Knuckle should be together – as a MUTUAL Act Of Courage.
Sometimes I wonder what makes people tick….
KJ.
June 20th, 2010 at 11:06 pm
Just read all this. Go The Rev Kev.
Dear Magnet,
Go The Rev Kev right back at ya! KJ.