hinchley.net

The Story Thus Far

Well, it all began in Wagga Wagga, Australia, where I became the third born child of Ian and Faith Hinchley. I popped into the world on a pleasant Thursday afternoon on the 11th March 1976. My family had always lived in nearby Narrandera, but due to pregnancy complications, I was born in Wagga Wagga. I entered the world as the considerably younger brother of Roslyn (born 1963) and John (born 1965).

Beyond a hazy recollection of the crib, my first memories date to age 4 at the local preschool. I can only recall a few events, such as the cutting of my hand on the big yellow tractor, and vague impressions, like painting, and the dislike of milk.

I attended the Narrandera East School from kindergarten to Year 2. Lasting memories include the unsettled faces of friends as I cut oranges in quarters, rubbed them in dirt, and ate them; the chicken dance; lying about being able to tie my laces so I could get my name written in the big red shoe on the blackboard; and feeling derided by my Year 1 teacher for not knowing my street address and phone number. I also noticed girls for the first time when I saw Kristy Painter at recess with red cheeks. I loved to pick scabs on my knees during Friday assemblies, and I particularly liked multiplication. I used to sometimes drive to school in my own imaginary car, and I was probably unkind to the girl who ate glue.

Next was primary school (year 3 to year 6). It was the school on the other side of town, which required that I cross the main street by myself. I remember on the first day sitting next to a boy who had bad handwriting. I felt so sorry for him. He went on to play in my basketball side, Hinchley's Warriors, and progressed from there to small town crime and the nickname of "bogger" (due to his foul smelling calling cards). My major achievements included skipping the 50 metre freestyle race at the swimming carnival every year by hiding in the toilets (a practice I continued with pride through to Year 12); the election of school captain; and my epic novel, Hamburgers in Space, complete with illustrations of a motorbike with beetroot wheels, which went on to win first prize in the Narrandera Show creative writing category (even if it was the only entrant).

I had two brief romantic encounters in primary school. The first relationship was devoid of speech, and consisted of a rather sporty young girl named Natalie sending me food gifts; ice blocks and packets of chips would be delivered daily via her network of giggly school friends for reasons still unexplained. We almost kissed once on an evening train ride during a school excursion, but the pressure was too much, and we held hands instead. I am embarrassed to say the second relationship commenced whilst Natalie and I were still an item, but it ended abruptly when I suspected the new girl, who at age 12 was one year my senior, wanted to get naughty in her bedroom.

It was during the primary school years that my sporting career hit an all time peak. I found myself winning Best Batsman in the local cricket competition, Best and Fairest in the local Australian Rules competition, and I was the star forward of the town basketball squad. But in Year 6 my aspiring sporting career was cruelly cut short, when I was forced to take early retirement after stepping on a drinking glass that sliced my foot to the bone. I mastered crutches like they were an Olympic sport, which proved fortunate, as I was unable to walk unaided for approximately 4 months. Sadly, the doctor involved in sewing up my foot inconveniently forgot to reconnect the severed tendons, and until this day the toes in my left foot have lost their ability to wiggle. After the foot incident I felt destined to a life of indoor lethargy, until dad picked me up, kicking and screaming, and dropped me off at the local golf club. It was there, on the first hole, after a rather nasty shank, that I learned to swear.

Finally, after many years of being told that I would fall victim to the high school initiation of having my head flushed in a toilet, I took my place amongst the other 70 brave souls in Year 7 at Narrandera High. Looking back on it, with the hindsight of a nostalgic adult, these troubled years of teenage development were almost certainly the best of my life.

It was in Year 10 that I had my first serious girlfriend. Her name was Claire, and she dumped me after I gave her a wrist watch for her birthday after saving my pocket money for 55 weeks (I received $1 a week for behaving well). It was also in Year 10 that I broke the school 400 metre walking record. I was Dux of Year 10, 11 and 12, and developed a passion for physics and calculus. I maintained a notebook of helpful formulas, which I carried for easy reference in the top pocket of a full length grey trench coat (that I wore at every opportunity). In my own mind at least, I was tall, dark, handsome, and supremely intelligent, a kind of youthful Richard Greico, but to others I was a 'weirdo' and 'geek'. I grew an impressive pair of side burns, wore my hair long and greasy, and developed a penchant for writing poetry and playing chess. I took to studying body language, and during big lunch, would explain the mysteries of human interaction to crowds of bemused onlookers. I dated a girl through Year 11 and 12, who I later discovered was my cousin, but no harm was done, and in many respects the entire affair was nothing but a social experiment.

During my senior years I developed the most infamous list that was to ever grace the corridors of Narrandera High. It was the Mega Desirable List (or MDL for short). At its peak it contained the names of 54 girls, each uniquely numbered for quick and covert identification. Conversations like "7 and 3 are meeting up with 9 and 10 and going to 23's for a party tonight" were common. Only the chosen few were privy to the numbering system, which despite widespread misconception, was not a ranking. I was even offered $50 for a copy of the list, which was a considerable sum for a boy still receiving a weekly allowance of $1, but turned it down on matters of principle.

The university years arrived and passed without a ripple. I can't claim to have taken drugs, had sex, or even joined a cult, although I did develop a liking for goths, and discovered rock music. I still clearly remember the first time I heard a song by The Cure (From The Edge of The Deep Green Sea), and in the whirlwind weeks that followed, I acquired the majority of their back catalogue (using money I saved by only eating fried rice). The first year of the 4-year degree was spent living on campus, and the next three living in a share house with a gay man who occasionaly wore Glad Wrap, and a rotating collection of strangers. I should stop to mention I went to the University of Canberra, where I studied Computer Engineering, graduating with First Class Honours. The rest is a blur of late nights in the computer labs cutting code, drinking creaming soda, and watching Jenni-cam. The entire period was devoid of any kind of excitement or scandal, and is probably best referred to as the "Stagnation Years".

After university, I shamelessly decided to take a year off and redo all of my assignments. This lasted not much longer than it took my parents to become annoyed at my continued presence in their house, so I took the next logical step, and got a job. It was with CSC Australia. It started well when my interview consisted of 1 question: “When would you be able to start?” And with the exception of the usual patches of workday monotony, it proved to be a rather satisfying place to earn a living. The first 2 years were spent working on national systems integration projects that led me to see much of Australia, and evoked a desire to travel.

From there I boarded a plane and travelled to London where I settled for a year, six months of which were spent in parts of Africa and Europe, either in the back of a truck or in the back of a rented car. In total I traversed 28 countries and 4 continents, which isn't bad for a man who previously hadn’t journeyed past Hobart. Highlights included working for Vogue Magazine, sitting in Nefertari’s tomb, being chased by a hyena in the Serengeti, floating in the Dead Sea on my birthday, and being jammed into the armpits of fellow travellers on the London Tube each morning.

After returning to Canberra I rejoined CSC. I found a flat in a nice suburb and spent my evenings at the ANU film group eating hot chips. After 6 months I became restless and bought a house, and ever since my life has been a tale of domesticated living. I started eating in, developed a obsession with lawn manicure, and planned for an early retirement. I even met a girl. And what a beauty! It happened on the evening of a Grinspoon concert where I literally almost died in the front row of an insanely wild mosh pit. After extricating myself from the throng, I felt compelled to show my frustrated friends that to meet a girl you had to do more than leer at them from across the room. My demonstration of "watch this", which included a bet of $10 that I could pull a girl before the current song ended, turned into a kiss with the most beautiful person I have ever met. She’s now my wife.

We married, enjoyed a three week honey moon in New Zealand, where we climbed glaciers, sat in hot springs, swam with dolphins, and drank more peppermint tea than we should have. Further holidays to Japan, United States, and Europe followed, and somewhere in between we acquired a substitute child, a small miniature schnauzer named Holly. I continued to work at CSC, predominantly for BHP Billiton, where I was responsible for the design and implementation of an enterprise metadirectory and global privilege management infrastructure. Last year, after a decade working for the same company, I decided it was time for a change, and I took on an 18 month contract at the Department of Finance and Deregulation where I was responsible for the development and deployment of a Windows Vista Standard Operating Environment. The contract will soon morph into a full time role within the Public Service.

I've spent the past few years questioning why I am here, and what it all means, and have come to the conclusion that we all know a little less than fuck all. I spend my evenings with my head in a book, my hand on a glass of wine, a nice tune in my ear, and an eye on the interwebs. Life is good, and I thank you for asking.

That's the story as it stands thus far. More is to come...

Peter Hinchley

In Brief

Colophon

The Story Thus Far