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I'd love to have a pint in this pub

Malter White

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My dad loved his beer and his pubs. It was his outlet to get out of the house and socialise with mates after a hard weeks work.

The pubs he drank at used to have social clubs and they’d put on Christmas parties etc for the families at the end of the year. They were good times, and everyone mostly looked after each other.

But then, they were the days where there was a lot of basic respect and trust between people. All the blokes would sit at the bar and put their money on the bar. The money would sit there all night, with the barmaid or publican just refilling the beer and taking money from the pile. Blokes never had to worry about counting out their money.

But they were the days when dad would have a $10 or even a $20 dollar note, and he’d still come (stagger) home with a pocket full of change.

Actually, he had one leg shorter than the other (results of an accident), so we’d hear him coming a mile away as the change in his pocket jingled in time with his heavy left step.

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