Author(s): Bilbrough, Norman

NZ Literature | Secondhand

"At the bach my father wore khaki shorts. They reached from his waist to his knees, and they looked like skirts. They were as strong as leather and they were held up by bale twine. Once they were held up by a red-and-blue tie. "My mother wore shorts too, but they weren't so long. Her legs looked uncomfortable in the sun, as if they wanted to hide in slacks or stockings. I thought my father and mother were the best looking people in the world. I thought everybody must know this too. But one day I looked at them and was very disappointed. My father had a hectic face; his shorts had gathered a few more immovable stains, and his legs were bad-tempered. And my mother was not pretty at all. I wished she had perky breasts and minced around in high heels. But she had a degree instead." Thus opens the title story in this collection from one of New Zealand's finest writers, who examines many familiar New Zealand and Australian icons in an ironic, grittily frank manner that will strike a particularly familiar chord with the Baby Boom generation. These finely crafted stories will hark back to what many remember, however mistakenly, as a golden age.