politics when i was 12..

When I was about 12. Dad took me along when he went to lunch with a man called Frank James. He was a supporter, tall and fat and we went to the RACV club in the city. We sat up at the counter and ate. Just nearby two men started arguing loudly and it seemed as if they were about to have a fight. Dad and Mr Double Barrel were oblivious to what was happening so close. They kept on talking. This was the moment when I realized that as far as my father was concerned, nothing was more important than the work he did with the Movement. Nothing.