Contrary to popular belief I was never christened Tasso - even my parents were not that cruel - and in the real world I answer to a variety of things ranging from "oi you!" to "oh God not her again!!". The name Tasso originated from a restaurant in Sydney owned by a friend who named his establishment after the 16th Century Italian philosopher and poet, Torquato Tasso. Tasso's main claim to fame appears to have been that France banned his book "Jerusalem Delivered" for containing ideas subversive to the authority of the monarchy - but despite that there is a piazza named in his honour in Sorrento, Italy - which is a remarkable coincidence as I recently discovered from my birth certifcate that I was born in a suburb of Birmingham which is also called Sorrento!!!!

But I digress........

My parents, seeing the monster they had created, sought a speedy solution to their newly born problem. Memories of this period of my life are obviously somewhat dim, but I am led to believe that I was taken to the local isolation hospital with diptheria and left in the care of the staff there who were less discriminating than my parents. Unfortuately mum and dad obviously mislaid their street directory as they failed to appear to reclaim me when I recovered.

A year or so later I was entrusted to my adoptive family and found myself to be the sibling of an older brother who seemed to think that aquiring a new sister was remarkably similar to receiving a labrador puppy for Christmas and immediately proceeded to refer to me as Fido. I like to believe that the fact that it took so long to find a new family was choosiness on my part, but am inclined to think that it may have been my precocious nature and the gun poking out from my nappy which possibly discouraged prospective parents.

Having spent my formative years in Birmingham I awoke one day with the realisation of just how awful the accent is there. I immediately packed my bags and set off to tread in the footsteps of Dick Whittington to find the gold-paved streets of London, where I took up residence, went to college and attempted to learn to "talk proper !!!" The next three years seem to disappear into a haze of all I was warned to stay away from when I left home. Fortunately I was never one to listen to advice - and as a consequence had a simply splendid time!!!!

To earn a crust when I left college I became a teacher - but to put butter on the bread I became world famous in South London singing and playing my guitar in wine bars and restaurants - with the occasional "private party" thrown in for good measure to add the jam. This was a totally confusing period of my life - and too many long nights, which ended up directly in the classroom, regularly induced temporary memory loss - thus causing me to sing to the children during the daytime and to teach the patrons at night!!

It was around this time that I discovered that the world did not begin and end in my own back yard, and after some serious study and saving, decided it was time to find the route to Heathrow Airport and from there a passage to various points of the world. My natural inquisitive nature, which most people tend to refer to as nosiness, led to many an adventure - including being swapped for three camels to a passing Turkish trader, being a guest at a Bedouin feast where the cooking facilities left a lot to be desired, and riding a motorbike around Normandy and Brittany for 6 weeks equipped only with a tent, a saucepan and a change of clothes!

My travels eventually took me to Australia, and despite orginally intending to only stay for the period of the school summer holidays, I found myself totally enamoured with the country and unable to tear myself away for several months before returning to the debauched existence of London's classrooms, restaurants and bars.

Over the next few years, despite having a wonderful circle of friends and a terrific little home which I loved dearly, I found myself drifting back to Australia for several all too short holidays, and in 1990 I finally my bags and emigrated. I tell most people that the reasoning behind my decision was that Australia doesn't export Samuels Port...but if I'm honest, it was just a bit of a brainstorm!

And here I am in 1998 - I've had the operation to make me an Australian Citizen and I now carry two passports - one of the land of my birth and the other of the land of my choice.

But it was in 1996 that I discovered yet another land to inhabit - that of Cyberspace - and as I gingerly tiptoed through the delicate strands of the Web, I realised that I had stumbled upon a never ending source of fun, entertainment and knowledge.

My wanderings eventually led me to the phenomenom of "chatting" and in particular 30 Something where I was amazed to realise that it was possible to have long conversations with people from all over the world for just the cost of a local phone call. Ignoring the warnings of the media, which told me I was sure to only meet axe murderers, I gingerly entered the room and introduced myself, using, for the first time, the name of Tasso. I found this new method of communication intriguing. Without the pre-conceived bias of basing judgements of people on their appearance it is possible to get to know one another from the inside out, not knowing necessarily if they are young or old, fat or thin, black or white, rich or poor or whether they have handicaps of any nature. Their words, their thoughts, their ideas and their wit build a picture of their being and through these words I have had the privilege of getting to know some truly wonderful people from all corners of the world.

Who knows? Maybe one day I'll find my way back to that airport and go and visit them all and then the next chapter of this epistle can be written.

.....to be continued.......







ORIGINAL

HOME