The Long Way Home - Chapter 7 - Gladstone Day 5

In caravan parks, especially if you stay as we are, for any length of time, neighbours come and go. This morning we awake to no immediate neighbours. A motorhome left us yesterday morning, another van replaced it while we were out and this morning it is gone.

Change is a fact of life.

We transition between infancy, primary and secondary schooling. In my case on through tertiary education and beyond that through Continuing Professional Education as well as what I like to term (in deference to the late Jim Rohn) CANEI (Constant And Never Ending Improvement). I have a degree in Business Studies majoring in Accounting from Sturt University. 

It transition wasn’t that straight forward. My marks in the HSC were insufficient for direct university admission, and at the time when the university semesters were starting I had no idea what, if anything, interested me. I had been shearing and done a stint of swimming coaching at the annual swimming lessons.

They had made me some money but none could be considered a “career”.

Towards the end of January 1976, armed with a HSC of little use, I headed to Sydney at the behest of my cousin for a short break. The day I arrived in Sydney Phil picked me up and took me to his parents place at Dee Why. Uncle Karl and Aunty Elva, at the time, were Majors in the Salvation Army, ministering from the Dee Why Citadel.

There is a party of the younger set tonight and we are invited.

The party goes as one does in those days (without the presence of alcohol). Lots of loud music and dancing and conversations with those of the opposite sex. A late night ends up with us dropping one of the young ladies we had met, home. She lived not far from Phil’s home.

The morning is heralded by sunshine streaming in the window and my Aunty Elva throwing the Saturday Sydney Morning Herald onto the bed suggesting perusing the employment section might be fun. 

After breakfast we go over the employment section finding four jobs I was qualified for. Saturday morning, yes, why not call them.

All the jobs were clerical in nature and in hindsight I may have left the calling until Monday but call them I did, and I got a response from one. George Evans, senior partner at Ruwald and Evans was actually in his office that Saturday morning. Him and I talk for a few moments and make an appointment for Wednesday morning.

Monday morning I call the other potential employers again and get an appointment with an insurance company for Wednesday afternoon. The other two had already been filled.

Wednesday and it is raining. Rather than let me loose on the public transport system, uncle Karl offers to ferry me around to the interviews. Rather than wear my one and only suit, not wanting to ruin it in the rain, I dressed in a good pair of brown dress jeans, a nice shirt and tie and wore a tobacco coloured jumper knitted by my mother.

The interview was a blur. The questions Mr Evans asked all seemed to be related to my character rather than my academic expertise. Of course my academic qualifications were “miserable” to say the least. The last question he asks before enquiring when I could start if I were to get the job, was directed to my ownership of a suit and my ability to commence technical education. University was out due to my results but he was more than happy if I were to head down the TAFE option for now.

I had the job in an accounting firm – not knowing what accountants did. My first interview was a success. I still had the other interview to deal with. It was at North Sydney, over the Sydney Harbour Bridge. It was very difficult to find an adjacent parking spot but we still made it on time. Arriving 5 minutes early I am told the position has been filled and I would not be interviewed.

Buoyantly successful we headed off home to Dee Why. First thing, a call to mum and dad with the “good” news – I would not be returning home for a while. Secondly, investigation of TAFE admissions, this time using my abilities to negotiate the public transport system.

Brookvale TAFE is just down the road. The first semester has already started so I will be immediately behind the others. Not just time but they potentially have some idea of why they are there and what they are aiming to learn. Me, I have very little idea of the work of an accountant or  accounting as a profession and for the next week and a half, I will know no more.

I have a week before I start with Ruwald and Evans so I look forward to spending time with Phil and his friends. Only one problem with that, he is off to Goulburn to Teachers College Monday morning, leaving me in Sydney knowing no one other than my aunt and uncle.

The week goes very slowly. Other than my room, there are the forays to TAFE and back, all at night.

My first day at work is similarly miserable as the day of the interview. My cousin Karan, back from a holiday takes me under her arm to deal with the “getting to work”. She has a permanent lift as far as Milsons Point Train Station where we catch a train across the bridge to Wynyard,a short walk to work.

I have worn the same apparel as I did the interview, not wanting to get it dirty. Mr Evans never arrived to work on a Monday early so my first day is set for 10.00am. I am sitting in the waiting area when he arrives. He immediately takes me to his office and asks why I did not wear the suit as he had suggested. 

After discussing the “need” to wear it he asks should he advance me the money for a suit. Of course I don’t need it, just protecting my asset.

Mr Evans suggests there is only one course of action. I must be hidden from the clients line of sight. I will spend the day in the compactus filing. This I did all day, breaking only to make the morning teas, where because of my allergy to coffee, I only ever performed once.

8.30am to 4.45pm were the business hours I was expected to observe and these worked in well with the after business hours TAFE which was on the way home in any event.

After the mundane nature of day 1, I was surprised to be motioned into Bruce Houston, the junior partner’s, office first thing the next morning. There was a briefing about what I was responsible for, during the day. I was handed a briefcase full of public company share certificates which I was to wander around the corporate registered offices and share registries, having them cancelled and reissued in a new name apparently under the terms of a will.

Armed with the briefcase and a map of the city of Sydney, I am wished luck and set into the jungle of concrete and bitumen. The first couple are very close by and easily dealt with. As I get further down the list I start to get turned around, relying on the construction of Martin Place Train Station as a centring point to restart.

By the time I have completed the task it is well past “quitting time. I walk back into the office into the office at 5.30p.m. with Bruce Houston, the junior partner on the phone discussing the possibility of foul play or worse. He hangs up as I walk through the door. He sits down with me and runs through my day with me. 

He is relieved. The several million dollars of share certificates are safe and I have proven, in the face of adversity I will see the job out. I laugh with him about working late on the one night I dont have TAFE. He lives about half way home to our place at Dee Why and takes me home.

My friendship with Bruce Houston continues to this day, he was the captain of the cricket team I played much of my cricket in Sydney before heading to Sydney University Cricket Club, and a huge mentor to my accounting professional career. I remained with Ruwald and Evans for in excess of 8 years.

The transition from child to self sustaining employee (albeit earning $75 per week in cash as opposed to $220+ as a rouse a about in a cheque at the end of a shed) on the way to being a professional was complete. 

My day it was full of impressions and anecdotes. I have been re-troubled in recent times  with the vagaries of clients and their need for instant gratification, regardless of timing or the consequence to those from whom they seek it.

Today we fought hard with the website. Its size is starting to create issues. The worst big the time it takes to access the logos of the sponsors required to be imbedded onto each blog. I could  preselect each one and add to the upload of the blog post shots to keep them at the top of the media library, but that seems counter productive.

I created a folder of them on the back end of the website, but when I go to upload them into a blog the folder is not evident. I suspect another “user error” issue but there is so much one is expected to know, especially when it comes to computers.

I built an accounting firm around making sure that never happened. Being able to speak to people in their language or terms they understand was one of the four pillars of the firm.

I get so frustrated with others who fail to understand not everyone has the same level of expertise.

We didn’t get out at all today. The pedometer on my phone registered less than 100 steps. No photos were added to the gallery either. We were either glued to computer screens, watching the Jane McGrath Day cricket or nanna napping. I had awoken not feeling 100% and the day simply deteriorated into a “productive” administrative period. 

There is a small of amount of accounting work requiring my attention, but I didn’t get to it today, perhaps tomorrow. Most of the time today was spent uploading photographs and blogs to the new website in a bid to show the developer follies in his understanding of what is needed and how the sheer volume of data will not present well within the present architectural design.

Tomorrow is Saturday and all things being equal we will be more agile. The spreading Covid throughout Queensalnd and as far as she is concerned their total lock of the understanding of social distancing rules has made Robyn more nervous and cautious of social contact.

We almost went out for dinner. But then I found some once in the freezer, rummaged around found some chilli con carne mix, a few tomatoes, an onion and some spaghetti and was able to whip up a reasonable version of bolognese fit for caravan travellers when further foraging found some herbs and spices to add to the mix. It was a tad spicy and did repeat during the night but my efforts securing us in the van rather than out were greeted with enjoyment.