Every picture tells a story (Rod Stewart)

For half of the seventies we lived here - 18 Korma Ave., Royal Oak, Auckland. I wasn't allowed to have a cool as chopper, but I did get this beauty for my 10th birthday in October 1967. My nerd credentials were fully intact and obvious from the bike pump, the saddle bag (groan) and  the headlamp. My token rebel move was to radically reorient the handlebars! Yes, I was ready for the seventies!

Wie geht's?

As you all know, I've been reading Ian Chapman's book that looks at (his) life in the Seventies (Glory Days - from gumboots to platforms).

His seventies in Hamilton East sounded a bit like mine: a cringe worthy time of being deeply uncool in the suburbs while listening to some of the best music ever made.

So I decided to head to the photo albums to see if I was as terminally unhip as a teenager as I remembered myself to be. 

Yikes! It was WORSE than I thought.

Those ten years, from October 1st 1970 (when I turned 13) to October 1st 1980 represented an incredibly awkward transitional time in my life: from Manukau Intermediate to Mount Albert Grammar to Auckland University. From boy to...er...older boy!

Unbelievable that just three years into the eighties I'd meet Jacky, get married and start a family!

Anyway - the pictures tell the real story, don't they!

Second from left on the bottom row. I was a young, small, baby-faced 12 year old here. Mr Lindsay - the cool guy in the tie, was the reason I decided, at age 12, to become a teacher when I grew up. A naive dream? Uh, actually, no - it wasn't.  

Geeky me in the middle with Ross (left) and his friend (right).
Nerd alert - we were on holiday in Rotorua and I was
wearing my Mt Albert Grammar jersey. Criminal.

The screen printing years may seem a move forward but the
desk and bookcase clue you in (bound copies of Nature
Heritage anyone? OMG) and must I draw your attention to
the bowl cut?

The curtains weren't far away, in the
meantime we have the side swipe.
Fashion conscious? Ha ha. Not yet.

1975 - far right front row and, unlike my hirsute
teammates, a long haired babe magnet I was not!

In the second half of the seventies, from 1976 onwards, 4 Ramelton Rd. Mt. Roskill South was our home. In the frame - my first car, an orange mini (of course it was orange - it was the seventies dude!) and Ross is in our dad's work vehicle so this must be late seventies. BTW I still have the white table and chairs, seen on the balcony, in my possession!

On holiday in Taupo with DMP. Uncool moment: I most
probably thought those clip on dark lenses over my glasses
were the height of sophistication.

MAGS badminton champ 1976. My sturdy wooden racket
was, of course, old school, unlike the trendy metal frames
the other blokes had!

1977 to 1981 found my brand of self-conscious nerd at Auckland University. I posed for this in more ways than one. The book? Tropic Of Cancer of course, but the AUT sweatshirt and the flared jeans weren't very late seventies punk or, anything really. And, note the business shirt underneath the sweatshirt. OMG Wozza - help was needed!

Ha ha - my homemade  John and Yoko
T-shirt was a start but those plaid shorts
again??? I am without speech! 

The curtain years had begun! Brand attack: non clip on dark glasses!
Adidas shoes! Puma jersey!
But I was still on family fishing holidays.

The decade ends with me pursuing a Masters'
degree and closing in on a start to my teaching
career and a move to New Plymouth at the end
of 1982 (after a year at training college)

Okay. Well, that was embarressing and fun, right? And while you'll still chortling at my fantastically unhip teenage years - why not take advantage of the lock down and hunt out your own teenage snaps.

Yeah. Boom! That wiped the grins off your faces!

Love and peace - Wozza