It is ever so easy to let your appearance suffer during the lockdown and end up looking like Willy off the banana cart . This was an expression my dear old maternal grandmother used to regularly describe a scruffily dressed and rough looking person in Sydney 70 years ago . With a giggle, she would frequently tell Auntie Gwen , something of a fashion plate who ran the ladies cotton frocks section in the Anthony Hordern and Sons department store , somebody looked like the said Willy .
While mostly agreeing with her mother, there were times when aunty responded by saying the male concerned looked more like Jacky the Bat , another scruff . These colourful expressions from childhood times in my grandmother's house in the North Shore suburb of St. Leonards came to mind tuther day when a Good Samaritan neighbour came by and inquired of my wife how we were coping during the lockdown .
On hearing the neighbour's voice , I rose from watching maddening commercial television because the ABC signal could not be received , clad only in old shorts , and joined the conversation from a safe distance , which was good because I had failed to apply underarm deodorant.
The Good Samaritan specifically asked me if my health was okay; I implied I was a fine physical specimen , in the pink . That was until, a few minutes later, when I went into the bathroom and caught my dishevelled reflection in the mirror - the very epitome of Willy off the banana cart and Jacky the Bat rolled into one , heightened by the gap in my teeth caused by a 61 year old filling that had crumbled and fallen out. .
My uncombed , long, grey hair stuck out like a mutation between a Yehudi Menuhin violin player and the Wild Man from Borneo . As I had not bothered to shave for some days, I resembled old Man Lucas who had a lot of mucous from the Kinky Friedman song ; the hairs in my nostril were long , badly in need of attention with a chain saw . Then there were the wrinkles, puffy eyes , long fingernails .
The shorts actually looked like battered Bombay Bloomers that Rudyard Kipling had worn while being chased through the jungle by a Tiger . Got the grotty , repulsive picture ? It is a wonder the Good Samaritan did not take fright at my appearance and decamp hastily.
While working on this post, decided to Google Willy off the banana cart to see if he had actually figured in Australian folklore or on the stage . No specific mention could be found . Willy Wonka , with his chocolate addiction , naturally , was listed , but some other suspect Willys surfaced . There was something called a Willy Warmer and a novelty squirting Willy Banana for hen stag nights . No wonder chooks suddenly stop laying.(This squashed banana post dedicated to the memory of Peter and Terry Blake of the Kings Cross Whisper . )
