ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

Fuel Fule

© Stephen Whiteside 25.01.2012

I'm heading back from Tamworth, and I'm feeling kind of low.
I should be feeling happy, 'cause I've had a mighty time,
But harken. I'll relate to you my sorry tale of woe.
Perhaps the pain will lessen if I write it out in rhyme.

I grabbed a handy auto at the airport when I came.
It was comfy, neat and zippy. It was all that I required.
Alas, this flying interstate is quite a tricky game.
The source of my discomfort is these wheels that I had hired.

I did a deal of driving, and I emptied half the tank.
I know the ground rules well enough. You need to fill it up
Again before you drop it off. Alas, my spirits sank
When I saw the airport held no place at which the car might sup.

I could have headed down the road, returned the way I'd come.
Time was now against me, though - at least, that's what I thought.
I dropped the car keys in the slot, in wretched mood, and glum,
And rang the auto rental staff to offer my report.

They said they'd fill it for me, at a quite outrageous price,
Reminding me that also they would charge me GST,
And then they bid a sweet farewell, in tone controlled and nice,
And left me there to ponder my complete inanity.

I drifted to the 'check-in' feeling that I was fule;
A moron, yes, a cretin who had failed to make the grade,
For want of nothing more than half a lousy tank of fuel…
And then they told me that my flight back home had been delayed!

The car keys! Oh, the car keys! I had dropped them in the slot.
It clearly was impossible the beggars to retrieve,
And so I sat down stolidly to contemplate my lot,
To gnash my teeth, to slap my face, to punch my thigh…to grieve.

When next I come to Tamworth (if indeed I ever do,
For still I'm weighed down heavy with these feelings of remorse)
To make quite sure I am not left with errors I must rue,
I'll step right round the hire cars, and rent instead a horse!

G'day Stephen,

Wow, I thought that, I alone, was a hapless traveller. I went from NSW to visit my sister in Qld.

I phoned ahead to hire a car and told them I wanted a little Auto for the weekend. When I got there, the only car they had was a giant manual. I had paid an outrageous deposit on my credit card (non-refundable) so I had no choice, I had to take the car. After a few kangaroo hops I got it out into the incredibly fast Gold Coast traffic. I got used to it fairly quickly, I had learned on a manual so it all came back.

At the end of the visit I rushed back to the airport. This time I took the bus (which is an excellent service and cheap). The airport was deserted. I was an hour early because of daylight saving time.

Gday Steven....must be the season...my daughter waited at Brisbane Airport last night to board a Virgin flight to Sydney....flight delayed...and delayed.....and then cancelled....too late to jump on Qaintass.....airport curfew at Mascot......Hotel fees...hire car booked an deposit paid....return flight a problem because of time constraints......Not happy jan....but in typical practical style she told them all to go and get st....er well you get tyhe idea....and hired a motor home and went to Byron Bay for Australia Day instead. Legal action to follow.

Mal

A horses back henceforth, is good enough for Doctor Steve.

You can have a lend of my bike Stephen.

"...from Tamworth to the sea..."

I am having trouble getting my head around the title - please explain?????

The rest of it I get and think it is funny and well written even if you are poking fun at yourself Stephen but the title has got me bluffed.

Thank you, Maureen. OK, the title. Well, the subject of the poem is 'petrol', or 'fuel', over which I made a bit of a fool of myself. Now, I just thought, to be a bit clever, you know, I'd spell fool 'fule' instead. Firstly, it simply involves switching the last two letters of 'fuel' around and, secondly, it's a valid, I think, though extremely old fashioned (Shakespeare?) way of spelling fool. I just thought it looked better that way, and was a little bit clever, but when you have to spell it all out like this it rather takes the gloss of things, to be honest.

By the way, David, McClymont Sisters...? Bushwackers...? What the...?

Ooops - I was obtuse sending over post haste a bottle of the very best gloss I could afford to put the shine back on.

I knew you were no fool and knew how to spell fool but the fule word had got me befuddled
Your explanation is clear and I thank you my dear for now my old head's quite unmuddled