Came to the same little town in West Australia’s outback, driving a mobile home..we called it a mobile house. A tale of woe enthused whenever he was asked what he, a man of some eighty years, was doing Out Here. Involved a divorce, loss of livelihood due to some rotten lot in Brisbane, after he had imported a million dollars worth of Italian tiles, severely undercutting him. He had two sons, in Perth, pursuing the same tiling trade as their dad, and he was on his way over. He landed in this town, liked it, proceeded to buy an house, and moved in. He proceeded to lay tiles left right and centre there, lots of work for him.

He was a tad dismayed, when he couldn’t level his own house. Discovered that the stumps underneath required a major sum being spent on them. So, one day not long after, was talking to Ade, who said..get some smallish bottle jacks, only a few dollars each from..down the track somewheres, and jack your house up with those! Maurice bought the required number of bottle jacks..lots! And crawled under his house to complete the job. As well as attempting to divert the runoff, which had decided to tear through under these woeful stumps. Worked a treat! He was able to level it all off, lay tiles everywhere, and display his handiwork to any and all who asked.

He was into stocks and shares online, and had a great time..until his computer played up. I couldn’t fix it..on one of his numerous trips south, a mob sold him more memory to replace his faulty chips.

He got himself a gas/petrol statesman…WB I think, and was able to run on gas most of the time, filling up down south..probably 150 Kay’s or so away. Petrol was so dammed expensive, he reckoned. He liked his tubular steaks…sausages to you and I, purchased at rock bottom prices, whenever he ventured south.
His red/brown statesman collected a kangaroo..bought another grey one for spare parts..ended up driving that one..which also collected a kangaroo in the same spot. left hand headlight.

He also drank port..also on the cheap side locally, and brought more than a few of us undone.

He found a free 4wd locally that he could have to refurbish, if he towed it to his place. Trouble was, there were only three wheels..total. So the farmer loaned him another with the same stud pattern, and away we went. I thought..a gentle 20kph tow into town…uh uh! Here we were, my being towed, behind his mobile house…blessed thing blocked the whole view of the road ahead..only about 12 feet of chain between us, and beetling along at..I kid you not..up to 80kph. Boy howdy! The brakes were almost non-existant….shudder!

He eventually decided he had to have something else to do, and was on the lookout for somewhere to grow…watermelons. Water was scarce locally, but there were what we called tanks..huuuge concrete ones, and here and there, collected runoff from local rocks..these weren’t you average rocks..hills, maybe. He never got too far with his watermelons, his sons say that he always had a thing for growing them. Next, he wanted to hold an orchid festival..to promote the local town..involving lots and lots of dirt being laid along all the streets in town, and orchids sown thereupon. I thought out loud that these orchids were totally protected, and authorities had a dim view of this Sort of Stuff…that idea squashed! Would have been an Huge exercise..lots of dirt, lots of trucks to cart it…Next..a men’s shed.

Wow! He found the funding, got everyone worked up and on board, land found..not far from the middle of town, and in no time was up and running.

Many’s the hour happily spent, sandblasting pieces of old tractors, and suchlike.

On one occasion, I had to quietly word him in..it Wasn’t the Right Thing to do, when wanting a natter with the school gardener during working hours, to cruise along in his car, next to the school..slowly..looking into the school grounds..then turning around, and doing it again…sigh. Maurice! People are going to get all sorts of funny ideas..he was straight as a die, wasn’t any question of a nefarious purpose in this!

One of the stories I related at his funeral…involved me asking Maurice if he wanted to come to a shindig at the local hall..the footy club had had a disastrous year, and were in mind to celebrate. The whole town was invited. Maurice hummed and haared..will there be dancing? Um. There’ll be a band, so I dare say they’ll be only too happy to have people dancing. Right! So a spruced up Maurice attended, and, in no time flat, had a partner on the floor. I’ve seen Maurice smile before, but this night was special. I never saw That many teeth before. I kept an eye on them…and things progressed..closer style of dance..arms wrapped around kind of thing. She was smiling almost as much as he was.

She headed off to powder her nose, and Maurice made a beeline for yours truly. Who is she? Who is that woman?

Maurice was inordinately interested in women he saw around..wanted to know the ins and outs. As I said to him on one occasion..you might be across a room, but you still hear your name spoken. You turn around, and see two reprobates staring at you..uh uh! Not good. So, on these occasions, I’d turn around, and say..oh, one of the local wives. Nuff said! Maurice would go mutter mutter mutter…

But on this night, I had to come up with the goods. No escape for mysometimesgoodself. Think think think…then suddenly knew exactly what to say. Phew! And a distinct possibility that this might curtail him Ever asking again!

So out came..and pointing..you see that guy there? Maurice didn’t bat an eyelid. You always do this! Why can’t you tell me? You’re a bugger at times! I don’t want to know about him, tell me about her!

She (pointing)…is…his (pointing)..missus .

One astounded Maurice. His jaw dropped…eyes open wide..mouth opening and shutting…but..he…..and she…and we..arms waving around, fingers pointing to elaborate who he was talking about. In the middle of all this, She comes out with a freshly powdered nose, ready for part two..husband notwithstanding. She leans into him…he looks horrorstruck..and the dance was completed in a more traditional stance..at arms length in other words. I scarpered. Time I was elsewhere. And it was a good two to three weeks before Maurice asked me about another woman…

Now, both these people were at the funeral, I might add. I fended a ..who was she, Bill..query..ah, not your missus! Ask me no questions and get told no lies…She had a momentary smirk, he was none the wiser..maybe!

He was in the habit of rocking up to all the agms in town..and he went to the theatre arts agm. They neglected to tell him that putting in an appearance at the agm meant that you were automatically in that years production… We had a mannequin dressed up as Maurice in one of his roles in front of the stage..and we put him on the stage for our final bows…it fell over during the proceedings, and the audience reckoned that he was taking a bow as well.

Amongst the locals , was a successful prospector, regularly sold leases for megabucks after getting an essay done, sort of thing. To all accounts, he took Maurice down to Kalgoorlie, and out onto one of these leases, together with an indigenous man who sometimes worked for The Guy. This man was proficient at spotting gold nuggets before anyone else, and the rules were finders keepers. They both spotted a good candidate, and stood around it, talking about..oh, maybe..something might be right in front of you, that kind of thing. Maurice finally wised up, and scored himself a piece of gold. He was so happy!

Maurice had a tummy issue, required drugs on a regular basis. We got onto the subject, and he mentioned that white grapes sorted his tummy out, good and proper, and doesn’t have to take his tablets. When the grapes are in season, he’s happy as Larry…trouble is they’re waaay too expensive locally, and he gets them when he went south. I asked him if he ever tried the white wine that were made from these grapes…another of those looks! Oooh..didn’t think of that! His port is red, wrong ingredients completely. Some time later..how’d you go with the white wine….aaand, that sorted his tummy out! And not as expensive as the grapes Or the doctor plus tablets, plus the road trip there and back.

Maurice dancing in the Club, with Celine..ps, Not the girl above!!!

Both his sons came to the funeral and the inevitable wake, at the club. Things were still raw. I shared another story that I hadn’t earlier…it was too much for the youngest…that was sooo like dad.

There is a wake held every year on that day..while I was there, I went along..as did everyone else, including the two from Perth.

Vale Maurice.