samuel hatty r.i.p.

I mentioned around three and a half years ago that I'd give you details on the death of Samuel Hatty when the anniversary came up. But first a couple more things about Hatty. As we discovered last year, Hatty was a married father of two (I was confused for a while thinking that he had another child, poor little Victor Baden-Powell Hatty who died aged 2 years 2 months - his death recorded in the Age 9 July 1902 p. 1- but I now think that as per the war memorial's website, Samuel Hatty Jr was born in 1890 and more likely Victor was Samuel Hatty Sr's son).* Anyway that's not important to the story of the death of Samuel Hatty, Basically, F. N. Campbell, a driver employed by Haddy and Co and living at 12 Little Curzon St North Melbourne (now the site of a big warehouse), offered Hatty (who at this time was living in Spotswood) a lift in his motor lorry which he was driving to the Port Phillip Stevedores' Association rooms. The road was wet and as it turned from Flinders St under the viaduct to cross Queen's Bridge it 'swung' and Hatty fell, the rear wheel of the truck passing over his head. He died a few minutes after being admitted to Melbourne Hospital. (Melbourne Age 22 July 1925 p. 15).** 

*Victor had lived at 127 Jeffcott St West Melbourne (where the prison is now), as had Samuel Hatty Sr's wife Elizabeth who died four months before he did (her funeral notice is in the Age for 27 February 1902, p.10) I don't understand what was going on there. 

** Samuel Hatty Sr (I'm assuming - same name, had a son called Samuel) had died in the same hospital on 26 August 1906 (Age 28 August 1906 p. 1). 

Picture of Melbourne Hospital 1910 from the SLV. 

He's in Fawkner Memorial Park apparently. 

outside toilet in Parkville

I suppose some people don't mind having an outside toilet, or should I say, want one. Perry and I were walking down a laneway in Parkville yesterday when I spied what seemed pretty obviously to me to be an outside toilet rebuilt in, I'm going to guess by the bricks, the 1960s to the footprint of a much older one. I'm sure that's what it is (certainly it's post-nightsoil). 

I mean Picasso yeah nah but that 1960s outside toilet is a much more intriguing piece of art. 
 

mystery

 

I thought for a split second this afternoon I saw a person I used to know (or know?) in town, then realised, firstly that it wasn't them and secondly if it was, it would be awkward because that particular person had effectively disappeared out of my life completely a couple of years ago without explanation or warning. I have literally no idea what happened.

Being ghosted is something that I'm pretty sure never really happened to me until about five years ago. There were times when people got the shits with me and, you know, unfriended me on fb or something, but they usually came back (or I didn't notice). But more recently I have had a few people completely absent themselves from my world. Three cases spring to mind. One is a woman who I eventually realised wanted a romance with me, I was unaware, until a mutual friend started talking with me about her using the assumption that we were having a romance - so - I don't know what was going on there. That woman was a bit juvenile I think, the last conversation (?) we had was when she said 'someone just told me something about you', like, what? She wouldn't tell me and we haven't spoken since. I thought we were good friends, but whatever, it's not really that important to me or something I think about a lot.

The other two (intertwined and actually more than just two people) are actually hurtful, though I'm open to imagining it's not anything to do with me, really, but more likely other stuff going on. Chief amongst them is someone I have known since the 1980s, on and off, and who I always felt very close to. Complete as they say 'radio silence' since 2023, possibly a little earlier, we weren't in frequent contact but we could always pick up where we left off. I am baffled, but finally, what can you do? If someone doesn't want to talk to you, they don't. I am not even really imagining that somewhere down the line I will get an explanation, even from a third party. This person is apparently not dead, at least, it just occurred to me to google them and they are still listed in a position in their workplace. 

I think one reason I am bothered is the other connected people. The person mentioned above has a partner and a child who I also liked very much. Put that to one side. They also had a friend, who I was also friendly with, most recently we had a good time in 2019, I think, and once again while we weren't in constant contact, we could be, anytime, I thought. But nah. So with none of them talking to me, I guess I am wondering if it's me... or just circumstances. So yeah I guess it's a double edged sword of not knowing, but that is probably secondary to: I'm worried about all those people insofar as, are they OK?! There's also the distinct possibility that I have deeply offended one or some of them, in a way that meant none of them wanted a bar of me, but I really don't know how that could have happened. 

This is a stupid post because I am going so far away from giving any interesting detail because I don't think they would want to be even slightly identified. Look, it's not an obsession for me but it is bothersome sometimes. A lot of people come and go in your life. A few weeks ago I got inveigled into a conversation with friends about another friend who had apparently dissed me considerably, the conversation assumed I knew this but I didn't at all, but I examined my feelings and realised I didn't care much either - you know - that's someone else's trip. But the people I'm talking about above were, I thought, sympathique. I guess not though. Or something went terribly wrong. What do you think? 

It's probably something that happens amongst people in their 50s-60s. I suppose I better get used to it. People of my generation will cut me off or, they'll start dying.*

*Again. I knew a few people who died from heroin 30+ years ago, but no-one of my age in the last few decades. 

oh, thunder! 110 years ago today

 

Los Angeles Evening Post-Record  5 July 1915 ·p. 7

noom

 
I have thrown away my Noom subscription again. I was grappling with it for a while but ultimately I cannot stand they way they measure things (often imperial measurement, but also, ridiculous cupfuls and half-bowls for things that don't belong in cups or bowls, and many, many perverse-sounding fast food products offered and also constant imprecations that I should eat things I would never ever eat, like chicken). Possibly I got something out of it but in the end I think it has got too much. 

Also I hate that when you write down that you ate pickles Noom insists on 'dill pickles' and then wants to measure them in spears. Spears. Fuck off with your 'spears'. 

Also I have had an annoying cough for two and a half weeks now, and also, my foot still hurts often. What a time to be alive. 

it's good to have a blog

If I didn't have a blog, neither you nor I would ever know that I saw David Kilgour and Yo La Tengo play a show in 2007 (and I didn't enjoy it, but that doesn't really mean anything in itself). Amazing. I literally do not remember this at all, I don't know where it happened and my description of the experience is so oblique I am not sure why I had a bad time. Crazy! I suspect the bad time probably had less to do with the actual show, than I appreciated at the time. I am also surprised to read that I've seen Yo La Tengo six times. Six??? I really like them, but I can only vaguely recollect seeing them once, and it wasn't this 2007 show. Madness!!!

This is a picture of Perry and Nancy yesterday. Perry is at one of his doggy day care hangs today. I would be happy to have him stay at home all week but he really seems to need to expend the energy and he loves going to those places so much I can't deny him. But I miss him. I am fairly sure Nancy doesn't. 

Walking at the moment is not easy because while I am (I'm pretty sure) coming to the end of my four or five-month bout of plantar fasciitis I am still hobbling a bit and every time I stand up I don't know whether it's going to hurt or not. I am also often really, really tired which can't just be the fact that I am 60 now but has to be more than that. Well, I guess I'll find out over time. But it doesn't make me the ideal companion all the time for a sometimes boisterous three year old (dog). 

I got back on Netflix recently, I forget why but to watch something in particular, possibly the Sarah Silverman special which I actually didn't enjoy that much but perhaps it was too close to the bone. Anyway, what I have since discovered is that a lot of Netflix shows have a Finnish captions option, which means I can justify watching any old pap on that basis, as a way to keep treading water on my Finnish. Most recently it was a five-part British crime show called Missing You. The above reads, 'Didn't it bother you that he had a family?' (I didn't translate that all by myself, by the way, though I know some of the words). 

'Did s/he make a mistake?'

This relates to a website called, unconvincingly, 'Honest Aspect': 'I reviewed all Honest Aspect-related documents for errors'. 

I don't know how useful this all is in learning Finnish (my ten-year plan, to be fluent by 2035!) but it can't hurt - can it?