What's in a life?
Five hundred words — more or less — is all it takes to live the life of Riley. For a short time each week, the good life and I are thought to be one. But don't believe a word of it. While on a daily basis I may manage a rough approximation of the green left lifestyle, the good times have alluded me completely.
I think it runs in the family. We Rileys have been called but no-one so far has been chosen.
Take my great, great grandfather, Felix Riley. Born in Dublin in 1823, Felix was quite the man about town and no doubt hoped to dress the part. In search of the appropriate garb, he stole a pair of flannel drawers and a singlet. The initiative must have had sartorial impact, because he soon left on an overseas cruise, compliments of her majesty's government.
Felix was sentenced to seven years' transportation. His future wife got 10 years for stealing a pair of stockings and a silver spoon.
And thus, we Rileys arrived down under.
Some didn't make it. The mums and dads of a few twigs to our family tree starved to death during the Irish famine, and their offspring arrived in Australia as orphans.
Such is the luck of the Irish that I now enjoy three square meals a day and have lived a life free of incarceration. This Riley's gone straight. You won't catch me thieving like my forebears.
And I'm famous. You wouldn't believe the number of people who say: "Green Left Weekly? Isn't that the publication Dave Riley writes for?" There are people out there who buy it on that basis alone! All of them relatives.
Come each Christmas, Aunt Mary gives me a hug and inevitably says: "What a life you lead!" And I retort: "'Tis the life of Riley." We giggle and guffaw some, but really it's all show. Living the life of Riley isn't all that it's cracked up to be.
In fact, the name this column goes by is really a sick joke. To tell you the truth, I'm not living it up at all. Oh, I pretend to. I throw back the slops and gnaw on the odd chicken leg, but really, compared to some others, all I can manage is to keep my head above water.
So when you read anything I have to say, be sure to take it with a grain of salt. Living the life of Riley — in the euphemistic sense — is something I don't do very well at all. But the green left lifestyle is something else again.
My week beats regular to the rhythm of Green Left Weekly, and it has done so for all of its 300 issues. While I may have notched up only a few years as columnist, you'd be surprised how many ways this mother can take you to her bosom. So now that the old girl has reached such an age, let's do right by her:
"Ladies and gentlemen charge your glasses and be upstanding. I give you the Green Left. Long may she reign over us!"
Then you say: Here! Here! (And give us a donation ...)
Dave Riley