My Best, My First, My Worst
Penned by Age writers, this series of pieces range from humorous to poignant and thought-provoking tales of love, loss and summer fun.
Opinion
Girls, music and embroidered jeans. The summer of 1968 when we cut loose
Four mates go in search of freedom, girls and the toughest of all, a sense of cool. It’s the summer of 1968-69. The Beatles provide the soundtrack to an awkward quest.
- by Tony Wright
Opinion
A mullet, a panel van and William Blake: my attempt to take the high road
I tried to own my first car ironically, but this turned out to be difficult to sustain.
- by Michael Bachelard
Opinion
Life lessons from the year I smelled like fried chicken
I was 15 when I announced I was getting a job. My parents were bemused, but I was driven by a force far more potent than materialism: fear of missing out.
- by Jewel Topsfield
Opinion
My best holiday advice (and my close encounter with a celebrity super couple)
There was no need to second-guess who I had encountered when I checked in to a hotel and came face-to-face with a former Spice Girl, her English soccer star husband and their children.
- by Cara Waters
Opinion
I thought the first rule of riding was not to be afraid. I was wrong
When asked whether a journalist should ride a horse for a story, I should have answered “no thanks”.
- by Carolyn Webb
Opinion
Bruised, sweaty, intense: I played my first game of footy at the age of 25
Born in NSW, I grew up an NRL fan and a ballet dancer. When I joined a footy team in Victoria, I found liberation in the ugliness of it all.
- by Marnie Vinall
Opinion
I got crushed in the mosh pit but survived the ‘death wall’: My first concert experience
I went to that concert feeling like a mature, independent grown-up. I left wanting nothing more than a hug from my parents.
- by Nell Geraets
Opinion
After the bravado of my youth, I’ve become the nagging parent camper
The days of dodging flaming debris from exploding deodorant cans and leaping through bonfires have given way to a chorus of reminders to the little people in my life.
- by Paul Pennay
Opinion
How Marie Kondo helped us uncover our flatmate’s shocking secret
Share-housing is a strange rite of passage. And sometimes the outcomes are not quite what you expected.
- by Sophie Aubrey
Opinion
My summer of grief, when I lost Bubbe Hinda
I was experiencing a year of backpacking and freedom when I got the terrible news from my family and had to fly back home.
- by Benjamin Preiss
Opinion
Two Cortinas and a Torana: My first, my best and my worst cars
For a kid stuck in the outer suburbs, nothing could top the thrill of owning that first car – or the terror of it catching fire while in motion.
- by Karl Quinn
Opinion
Fish heads, thieves and public urination: working in a London boozer
Like many Australians, I got a job working at an English pub, and there were highs and lows.
- by Nicole Precel
Opinion
Moving to Melbourne: from bedbugs and tears to building a career
If you think a 26-hour journey is uncomfortable, well, you probably haven’t done it wearing everything you own. It levels up a miserable experience to one that is truly hellish.
- by Cassidy Knowlton
Opinion
Walking had always seemed effortless. Until I lost the skill
I don’t remember the first time I learned to walk. But the second time was terrifying and excruciatingly painful.
- by Jocelyn Suiter
Original URL: https://www.smh.com.au/opinion/my-best-my-first-my-worst-20230118-p5cdfb.html