Franz Huber

Remember, in your High School days, that knot slowly tightening around your solar plexus when, in the hour before handing in that essay, you knew that the meagre results of your effort was… well, simply inadequate? You knew that it may lead to the ignominy of “bottom of the class”. Grahame and Phil always were Miss Austin’s proverbial teacher’s pets. Stacey, Diane and Jackie and most of the girls were naturals in English anyway. Even John, brilliant in Math and Science, would frequently get a ‘well done!’ mention for his paper…

​

Jackie Moore’s email said “Just letting you know you are next member of the month…  … send information about your writing journey and literary interests…” Hang on! I haven’t published anything, other than blogs! The 9th husband of Zaza Gabor must have had similar pangs of anxiety on his wedding night: “I know exactly what is expected, but how do I make it interesting?”  OK, here goes:

​

I grew up on a dairy farm in a small village in the hilly region of Appenzell, Switzerland. Like most boys in my class, I left school at 16 and entered an apprenticeship, mine with the Swiss Postal Services in Distribution. At 19, a serious lack of timidity prompted me to apply to become a Pilot Cadet with the Swiss Airforce. It took just a few weeks before my instructor and I mutually agreed that I couldn’t fly! Yet it was the two years in military service which “sorted me out” and triggered the motivation to serious study. After completing a Diploma of Commerce by correspondence and Night School, I joined Olivetti as an Office Machine Salesman.  But adventure beckoned…

​

Together with one of my fellow workmates, in November 1970 we set off for an overland trip, target: “Around the World”. In mid-winter, we drove an old Landrover through the sub-zero Highlands of Anatolia (constantly minus 20 degrees), to Teheran, on to the Persian Gulf, back through Afghanistan, Pakistan and around India to Kathmandu. From there by public transport to Burma, Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore. There we ran out of money. Australia being the closest and most likely place to find work, we used the last dollars to buy an air ticket to Sydney. Our intention was to work for about 12 months before continuing the trip, to live happily ever after in Switzerland. But as Robbie Burns wrote: “The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men gang aft agley”: my mate fell in love with a good looking Australian lady, married her and travelled with her instead me around South America!  Meanwhile, I landed the job of my dreams: my territory was the entire State of Victoria, plus Tasmania and Alice Springs.  That was 49 years ago, and I’m still here!

In 1979 I married the lady with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my days with. We moved to the Gold Coast, brought up kids and…  so far, so good!  Since the mid-eighties, we ran our own business in IT, from which we retired some 4 years ago.

​

I have always had a strong interest in language, and one of my treasured forms of relaxation is reading well written books. James Michener, Michael Crichton, Bryce Courtney, William Forstchen, Gregory David Roberts, Lionel Shriver, to name a few of the dozens of fiction writers I admire. And – ahem… Ayn Rand. On the non-fiction side, anything to do with Behaviour and (amateur level) psychology, such as Yuval Noel Harari, Eric Greitens, Ichiro Kishimi.

​

“Yeah, right! But what have you published??” I hear you ask.  Only blogs really, which I write just about weekly for Rotary, an organisation about which I am quite passionate and have been a member of for 33 years. You find them on my club’s website www.rotarysurferssunrise.org – see Home Page and Stories tab. And – purely hobby level: I write bush poetry for fun, but I haven’t published any (so far).  Is there still a book within me, trying to get out?  Whoaaa! Steady now…