Pat Ritter. Books

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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 13:

Sophie’s Unicorn.

It was in the fifties and I reckoned my grandmother was the greatest cook in the whole wide world. I was either ten or eleven – I’m not certain, however I clearly remember my birthday party and the cake my grandmother made. This birthday would be remembered for a number of reasons. Not only from the gathering of school friends and relatives who attended, but for the delightful and elegant birthday cake she made.
She’d spent hours preparing the filling for the cake of mixed fruit; flour; butter; milk; eggs and all of the other ingredients. Her speciality was not baking the cake but how she decorated it to become a masterpiece of elegance and delight. This particular cake affected my life forever. The base was round and coloured blue – my favourite colour. Green grass made of marzipan icing – thick and hard to hold and glisten in the light. My name and a Happy Birthday written in dark blue inscribed with more marzipan icing.
Appearing on the second level was a bright coloured blue unicorn lying down gazing out from the centre. Its eyes seemed to follow you whenever you moved. A huge horn projected from its forehead. This moment was surreal; I couldn’t understand why my grandmother had made a unicorn. Covering the unicorn was another layer of cake resembling a stable with straw bedding made from marzipan icing.
If ever a person was gobsmashed, it was me. I couldn’t believe that anyone would make such a glorious gift. It should never be eaten, I commented. At first when I saw the cake I must admit to being a little bemused about the unicorn. I couldn’t understand until my grandmother enlightened me with her story of Sophie’s Unicorn. Her words penetrated my mind to remain there forever.
If ever I wanted anything in life, all I needed to do was to touch the tip of the horn of Sophie’s Unicorn and my wish would come true. This was like having a genie in a bottle. There was one condition in touching the tip of Sophie’s Unicorn. My thoughts had to be for the good of others.
Ever since the first time I touched the tip of horn of Sophie’s Unicorn, a magic entered my mind to do a good turn for a person rather than a bad one and to treat people how I wanted to be treated and this is with trust and honesty.
My grandmother was a wise person.
Word count: 416
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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 14:

The Dawn Service.

This is the first time I attended The Dawn Service. It was at Imbil and from the large gathering almost half of the surrounding community attended. This day left a huge sorrow in my heart of reasons why I haven’t attended one before.
A couple of times a year I visit my elderly aunt. During my last visit she handed me a folder, ‘you may be interested to read about your grandfather. This is a record of his army service.’ It was the first time I’d seen his army service records.
My grandfather, Thomas Daniel Wilson number 2752 was a private attached to 49 Infantry Battalion. He enlisted on 4th July 1916 and soon afterwards left Australian shores. On 7th April 1917 he was wounded in action whilst flighting in France. After rehabilitation in England he returned to France where he fought to the end of the war.
Up until the time my aunt gave this folder I didn’t know anything about the history of where my grandfather fought and thank goodness he survived because had he been fatally injured I wouldn’t be here to share this story with you. At the time of joining the armed forces he was 21 years old. His whole life had been in the bush and gladly he used his bush instincts to survive. I can’t imagine what he went through at such a tender age.
This Anzac Day is the first time I’ve thought about my grandfather. I decided to attend the dawn service at Imbil. I did it in memory of him. At the time of his death I was two years old and therefore didn’t have the opportunity to have him as a grandfather only identifying him in photographs. Little did I realise after sixty years I’ve found solace and comfort in knowing my grandfather fought in World War 1.
When the last post was herald by the bugler my heart swelled with joy and a tear trickled down my face. My thoughts at the time were of my grandfather fighting the enemy on France’s shores, across the other side of the world. I am a lucky person to have him as my grandfather and feel proud he represented and fought for his Queen and country.
During the service, a poem was read of a grandson asking his grandfather his story of the war. Listening to the words put me in vision of asking my own grandfather about the war and like the words of the poem most of the story would have been hidden and only the good of man would have been told.
Thank goodness we had soldiers like my grandfather who fought to protect their country and to know his grandchildren would benefit from those days he fought the enemy in France to give us the freedom we all now enjoy.
Word count: 479
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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 15:

Wait For Me.

Stanley stood on the dock to see the ocean liner pull away from the port. Sophia stood on the deck waving good-bye. It was a chance meeting when Stanley met Sophia. Friday night Stanley didn’t have much to do and decided to visit a nightclub in Brisbane. He wasn’t a nightclub person however after what his mates had told him it was the place to meet the opposite sex.
People were dancing when he arrived so he decided to go to the bar and have a drink. ‘Pot of beer, thanks mate,’ he said to the barman and handed over a five dollar note. As quick as a flash the barman returned with a pot of beer and a few coins in change.
Why he was at the night club he didn’t know. He’d rather be at the top pub at Nundah where his mates hung out but they reassured him he would meet his dream girl tonight at the night club in Fortitude Valley. Did they know something he didn’t know?
His eyes scanned the audience in hope he may sight this dream girl. What a stupid thought, he didn’t know who she would be or what she looked like. It was a pig in a poke to use a term he often used when unsure of what he ever wanted from life. Take a chance; he told himself, you never know if you never have a go.
As if the sea had opened up to let Jesus walk on water, a beautiful blonde stepped into his sight. Perfume tickled the hair in his nostrils, his eyes glued to the sight of her. What a woman, he thought. She wouldn’t be interested in me, he pondered. Without glancing away she approached him and stood beside him at the bar.
‘Hi there,’ he muttered almost too frightened to say anything.
‘Hi there yourself.’ An American accent flowed from her lips. Stanley couldn’t believe this person spoke to him.
‘I’m Stanley.’ He stuttered and shoved his hand out to shake her hand. Their eyes met for the first time, hers ocean blue, his green.
‘I’m Sophia.’ She whispered close to his ear. Stanley felt an instant shudder go through his body.
‘Can I buy you a drink?’ He asked gaining more confidence. She nodded. ‘What do you drink?’
‘Whiskey and water.’ Was her reply.
Stanley ordered the drink and before it arrived they were in deep conversation. Sophia was on a world tour and stopped over in Brisbane.
They talked throughout the night. Stanley had never met anyone like Sophia before and now believed his mates were right he went to the night club. As the dawn broke the horizon, Sophia said to Stanley, ‘Wait for me.’
Stanley was in love for the first time in his life.
Word count: 473
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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 16:

Have A Heart.

When I was eleven years old I worked part-time, mainly on weekends at a small grocery store in Roma, a country town west of Brisbane in which I grew up as a child. Thinking back to the period, the corner grocery store was then the modern Coles Supermarket of today. When the customer entered the store a huge counter trapped them from selecting the items they wished to purchase.
My role to select the items from the shelves behind the counter requested by the customer, place them on the counter in front of the customer and ask for the money to purchase them. When the money was handed over I deposited it in a cash register. These cash registers almost took up an entire section of the counter.
It was a Saturday afternoon, the store was quiet; the owner asked me if I wanted to choose an ice cream from the freezer. Ice creams were housed in a tall green coloured canvas ‘shippers’, we called them. This one had a cane frame, insulated with felt lining, covered with canvas and fitted with rope for fastening and carrying. Dry ice kept the ice cream frozen.
I undid the rope to open the lid and saw to my surprise a new type of ice cream. I knew most of the ice creams by name because if the customer wanted one I knew which one to get. This ice cream was recently delivered. After selecting the ice cream I placed it on the counter then quickly refastened the rope of the ‘shipper’.
Holding the ice cream in my hand it was something I’d never seen before and for sixpence was a good choice.
‘Is this a new ice cream?’ I asked the owner.
‘Yes, it came in yesterday and I want you to test it so you can tell people what it’s like.’
I ripped the paper from around the ice cream, held onto the small wooden paddle between my fingers, and had a good look before I decided to test it. It looked different to other ice creams I’d eaten. I finally crunched it between my teeth. First the taste of chocolate, thinly coated, the inside filled with vanilla ice-cream. We never had an ice cream like this one before and my taste buds liked the combination of chocolate and vanilla ice cream. It melted in my mouth.
‘What do you think?’ The owner asked.
‘It’s great – what is it?’
‘Hav-a-Heart’, he replied.
Fifty years later Hav-a-Heart continues to sell; far more expensive than sixpence.
Word count: 429
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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 17:

Between A Rock And A Hard Place.

No son of mine is going to be a copper, my father spat; you’ve got to swear to arrest your own mother or father. Ever since I can remember all I ever wanted to be was a policeman, not only a policemen but a detective. I was half way through Junior in high school and wanted to apply to become a police cadet in the Queensland Police Force.
Without my parents consent there was no hope until I turned twenty-one years of age. In the day and age of parental control there was no way I could convince my father otherwise. I was in between a rock and a hard place. In those times you did exactly what your parents told you without argument. They were the law.
From that faithful Sunday afternoon when I approached my father about my request the matter was never mentioned again, either by him nor me. Without his consent I was up that proverbial creek without a paddle.
My ambition to become a policeman didn’t waver the least over the following six years. In my dreams each night filled with creations of being a law enforcement officer. At last I turned the age of consent and eagerly presented to the local police station. At first when I sighted the officers in uniform little bubbles of hope almost burst with pride to serve the community.
In those days to join the force one needed a grade eight (scholarship) pass, 20-20 vision, healthy and a need to want to become a police officer. I thought, that’s no trouble – I’ll pass with flying colours. Not only did I fail a spelling test by obtaining 3 out of 20, I also failed an eye test. An officer advised me to see an eye specialist and purchase a grade 8 spelling book and memorise the words. Alas, I was again between a rock and a hard place.
For three months I memorised each word in the spelling book. An eye specialist cleared my sight by issuing a letter of approval, so I again fronted for another entrance examination.
On this occasion I passed with flying colours and was admitted to the Queensland Police Barracks as a Probationary Police Officer. After four months of training I was officially sworn in as a Police Constable.
At the swearing-in parade my parents attended and I didn’t know whether to arrest my father but reassured him if he broke the law he would be arrested.
Throughout my career spanning twenty years I did become a detective and many times I was in between a rock and a hard place but somehow escaped.
Word count: 449
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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 18:

Charlie’s Ghost.

What is it about comedy? Naturally its there to make us and when I view the television programme Two and a Half Men, I can’t help but . Its stupid comedy however there is something that tickles my funny bone and suddenly my stomach tightens and ter explodes from within me.
Over the time I’ve been watching the programme, probably about two years, each week I’ve seen Charlie Sheen, the main actor in the show, progress from a likeable character to one of disgrace as evidenced by his off-screen antics. It’s disheartening to see an actor of his ability and stature fall from grace. Who could forget the disgraceful display he exhibited in his well publicised one man shows.
Now the produces of the show Two and a half men have sacked him – ‘his show’ as he called it. ‘It will not succeed without him’ he commented or shouted at the reporter. We’ll see!
Ashton Kutcher replaced the character in the show. He’s the husband of Demo Moore who was once married to Bruce Willis. What a tangled web there is in Hollywood.
Before I watched Charlie Sheen in ‘Two and a half men’ he was a fine actor performing in movies, television but for a reason only known to him, he changed. He went off the rails and crashed. Could it have been the money? For one session of Two and a half men it was reported his earnings was $1.5m. His notable father, actor Martin Sheen, showed disgust how his son behaved this way. He almost disowned him at one point.
I look forward to seeing if Charlie’s Ghost appears in future episodes of Two and a half men. Or, can Ashton Kutcher emulate Charlie Sheen on screen and make me . Both men are different actors. Perhaps Demi Moore will get to be a surprise special guest in the show – who knows.
Although Charlie Sheen is no longer in the show, in my opinion I don’t think the show will be the same without him and there will always be in the background Charlie’s Ghost.
Word Count: 354
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'Awesome - OMR - Stories' - Page 19:

Shadows.

‘We going to the movies?’ my cousin stated.
‘What’s on?’ I asked.
‘Cliff Richards and the Shadows in ‘Summer Holiday’, it’s supposed to be a great movie. Anyway, I want to see Cliff Richards.’ He replied in an excited voice.
Danny was twelve years old and I ten. Cliff Richards was top of the charts on the local radio with hits from his movies. His band ‘The Shadows’ played electric guitar, base and drums.
Cliff Richards was the major actor in the movie with members of his band playing cameo roles. The movie was initially set in London. Cliff Richards played a mechanic and wanted to drive a double-decker bus with his friends from London through Europe on a summer holiday. Throughout different stages of the movie Cliff stopped the bus and started to sing. Miraculously his band ‘The Shadows’ were like a shadow followed him around the countryside. They appeared from behind trees playing their instruments.
These were the days when ten year old boys, such as me and many others enjoyed rock and roll music. I remember reading about Cliff Richard when I was that age. His music interested me and I would feel comfortable listening to songs sung by him. They were sweet and innocent.
Before ‘The Shadows’ began their career they were known as ‘The Drifters’. Cliff Richards changed his name from Harry Webb to Cliff Richards and his band became known as ‘Cliff Richards and the Shadows’. The reason they changed their name from ‘The Drifters’ to ‘The Shadows’ was because at the time in America was a group named ‘The Drifters’ and they didn’t want confusion.
Who could ever forget when ‘The Shadows’ released ‘Apache’ an instrumental by Jerry Lordan, which topped the charts for five weeks? That year I commenced High School and everyone I knew who played a guitar tried in vane to play ‘Apache’.
Another great hit Cliff Richards performed with his band ‘The Shadows’ was ‘Bachelor Boy’. This song must have been an omen for him because at the ripe of age of seventy plus he remains a ‘Bachelor Boy’ and ‘The Shadows’ remain his shadow.
Word count: 360
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