Loud

I am a loud person. I'm not afraid to open my mouth and generally put my foot in it. It would be an unusual dinner party that Jane did not have to glare across the table at me at some inappropriate joke or politically incorrect spray. I know it and those that love me know it so no biggie. I am sure if anyone has an issue with it they will either raise it with me or simply not come back. I'm not saying I'm beligerant about it and damn them all, I'll say what I want. I do care but am pretty oblivious to it til its too late. If pulled up, I'll quite happily apologise and move forward to my next faux pax. (I recently learnt how to spell that on twitter!)  Its my judgement that's lacking. I have poor judgement. Apparently playing 'corners' in the car when you are the driver is not good. I just thought the kids in the back would benefit from a little extra G force in their attempts to crush each other. I was corrected and shan't do it again (more than likely).
My younger failings at judgement have slowly been unfolded on this blog and when I think back to how many times I nearly killed myself, I am amazed. Usually with cars but once in the snow. That one remains for another day.
I went to Figtree High school and lived a ways a way. The bus came close to the house but to be honest, it was too early so I'd be walking to school most days. The walk for me and hundreds of other kids involved walking down the steep banks of Americas Creek, stepping across some exposed rocks and up the opposite bank. It was risky for wet feet but never dangerous and was the shortest way to the school so no one was going to change their route. The school one day decided enough of the cross country for us pedestrians and upon receiving a donation of a prefabricated section of conveyor belt structure, began construction of a pedestrian bridge across the creek. It was about 30 metres and simply went from bank to bank at ground level. They set footings on either side, then craned the bridge into place. A great innovation for all. We loved it from the minute construction began. We loved it so much, that before it was finished, we decided that it should be tested. In cars.
The bridge was in place but had some of those timber barriers up at each end to indicate one should not venture onto said unfinished bridge. Ken was in his dads Kingswood wagon and I in mum's mazda 323 wagon. It was about 10 or 11 pm I think. We discussed the viability of crossing the bridge for all of 30 seconds I think. Risk assessment check!
We pulled up lined up for the bridge, with the lights off and motors still running, we ran over and each of us grabbed a barricade and moved it out of the way. Back into the cars. I went first, god knows why but we had no fear of anything going wrong. As I drove onto the bridge platform, the wing mirrors within inches of the railing either side, my only concern was to keep it straight. As the bridge was not yet finished, the platform was sheet metal. Thin sheet metal.
Have you ever seen Rolf Harris pick up a sheet of metal and wobble it to make a loud noise? Multiply than by about one and a half ton. It was like Stomp has just started a concert in the dead of night in a quiet suburb. LOUD is an understatement. I was taken back by it and just kept going. Ken followed me onto the bridge before I was off the other side. 2 cars on the foot bridge now! LLOOOUUUDDDEEERRRR!!!!!
Upon exiting the bridge and onto the grassy playing fields on the other side, we stopped close to each other to congratulate ourselves on a job well done. It was then we noticed the lights starting. First there was the odd house internal light, then front lights, doors were opening, people coming out of houses with craing necks and sleepy eyes trying to focus. And the wail of a police siren in the distance!
I was not going to go back across that bridge. Oh no, I was too smart. So I planned to drive across the playing fields, up the bank on the far side, into the school grounds, through the school and weaving my way through the quadrangle seats back onto the internal drive and back out onto Gibson's Road. Fool proof. The school gate that is locked 99% of the time and the very same gate I had omitted to consider in my escape plan, was open that night. I was free and clear. Ken had done a 'do-nut' on the grass and went back the way he came, across the bridge and back out onto Obrien's road. I had driven down the road a little bit in time to see him driving calmly down the road as the full lights and siren police car passed him in the opposite direction. We met up and was very impressed with ourselves indeed. A faultless operation.
Years later, when age and experience had endowed themselves upon me, I went back past that bridge and realised just how flimsy that structure was. It simply wasn't engineered to take the weight of a car and definitely not the weight of 2. I am convinced if we had been moving any slower, the bridge would have folded in half with our parents' two cars snuggly spooning in the resulting V.
My judgement has improved a little since then but did leave me briefly at the snow one year. Remind me to tell you about that one day. But make your reminder loud, I'm a little slow on the uptake.