Get a handle on these

THE joy of Aussie nicknames!

A column suggested, after pieces last year on classic and disappearing sayings, by a fair few readers who kindly threw in their two bobs' worth to get me started. Most deliciously, an old stevedoring manager from Brisbane who got the ball rolling: "There was a wharfie known as Ghost because he clocked on and clocked off, but was never seen in between. Another was called London Fog - because he was never known to lift."

Brilliant. My own nicknames through life?

Excruciating. And a reminder that they're usually not decided by the subject. I will say, though, that Scottish people tend to call me Archie. Why? I'll explain at the end of this column - but first, a plethora of delicious Aussie nicknames to giggle through. So back to you, my dear and generous readers:

"Got a mate named Glen. Someone called him Glen 20 once [after the disinfectant]. Now he's known as 20; even his parents call him 20."

"I worked with a woman who supposedly shared her love/lust. She was prematurely grey, and earned the nickname Taxi because of her silver top (synonymous with the taxi company) and her flag-fall which was about three glasses of chardonnay."

"A mate at work is five foot nothing. Nickname is One Ball -'cause they reckon that's all his old man used to make him."

OK, some of these monikers are incredibly cheeky and borderline iffy, but hey, I'm ripe for a laugh. What I also love is that distinctly Aussie tone in a lot of the telling. You can just hear it. The dry humour, the flat delivery, the curl of a smile at a bar. Bill Hunter talking perhaps, Bob Hawke when he's had one too many. So, off we go again...

Snuggler/Kimbie: a gentleman full of what nappies collect. ASIO: someone who's always saying, "Don't tell anybody but..." "Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee - two shipping company agents who planned their daily routine to arrive at a hospitable ship so as to be invited to a long lunch, pouring themselves down the gangway much later." Appendix: expensive to take out. Snags: because all they ever talk about is making ends 'meat'.

"A guy who worked with me was slightly tubby and his head melted into his shoulders. His nickname was Pearls, as he was neckless."

"In this little outback town where I lived there used to be this bloke called Jack. He was light fingered, so his nickname was Hydraulic, as in 'Hydraulic Jack'".

All Bran: always up for passing a motion. Cattle Truck: someone who's full of bull, and Barra, someone who's always coming out with a fishy story.

This playfulness with our language goes back to the earliest days of white settlement. Pebble referred to a convict with the hard qualities of a stone. Paper Man was a convict who'd earned a conditional pardon, and had the documents to prove it. Magpies and canaries referred to the convicts wearing the black and yellow or plain yellow garments.

Our authors also fondly embrace their nicknames, from A.B. (Banjo) Paterson to D.B.C. (Dirty But Clean) Pierre. And Archie? Something to do with a winning goal for Scotland in the'78 World Cup, from one Archie Gemmill. That's what blokes called me at the BBC years ago and it's still picked up fondly by any Scot. Then an earlier - excruciating - nickname. Big breath.

Baby Hump. Yep. Glorious, eh? The explanation was simple, pure suburban Aussie inventiveness. Gemmell = camel = hump. So the eldest brother in the family, who it all revolved around, was decreed Hump. Dad and mum (for their sins) were Mr and Mrs Hump, and the baby of the family? You guessed it. I lived with that horrendous moniker throughout my childhood and only shook it off when we moved to the Big Smoke, far, far away from anyone who knew us.

So, I've shown you mine... and yours?

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