THE NORTH WIND IS TOSSING THE LEAVES. Story by David Oke
Mum would dutifully wrap the can in crepe paper to cover the rust and make it decorative.
COME WITH ME by BRIAN CADD Story by Mark Smith
Surfers don’t overthink names: Right Point, Left Point, Surfies Point and Express. But sometimes the old names held true: Woolamai, Kitty Miller Bay, Flynn’s Reef and Forrest Caves. We knew exactly where to head on what wind.
WE BUILT THIS CITY ON ROCK AND ROLL by STARSHIP Story narrated by David Oke
This cheesy American 1980s song, with an equally tacky film clip, provokes a memory bathed in anger, frustration and disappointment - my first experience of really distrusting a real estate agent.
BREAK AWAY by THE BEACH BOYS Story by Rowan MacDonald
The Beach Boys were there with us on each and every road trip. Each song had its own special moment to shine along the journey.
OH ENGLAND MY LIONHEART by KATE BUSH Poem by Kevin Densley
The vines twisted around the pergola/in my grandmother’s backyard/were gnarled and old
LIVING IN THE ’70S by SKYHOOKS Story by Dianne Wolfer
When we tire of climbing and jumping, we let the current drift us back to our towels and trannies, still keeping an eye out for snakes swimming in the river; supposedly they can’t strike in water, but we don’t want to test the theory.
RACING IN THE STREET by BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN Poem by Louise Maskell
Night shifts summer’s leaves/Date palms rock in breeze/Crescent bay shimmers
SEE MY BABY JIVE by WIZZARD Story by Stephen Andrew
I couldn't escape the crush (in both senses of the word) the first time I heard it. I was dumped, pulled under and dragged disoriented across the sandy sediment of my adolescent existence. See My Baby Jive was excoriating.
MY HAPPINESS by POWDERFINGER Story by Melissa Longo
After breaking up and getting back together 152 times, I finally found an exit strategy that would stick. My Happiness was awaiting me – I just had to meet it halfway.
SEALED WITH A KISS by BOBBY VINTON Story by Stephen Andrew
Music was beginning to assert its life-long hold over me, but it still played a distant second fiddle to being a part of a team of twelve boys dressed in pads, batting gloves and protectors.