Gorillas In The Midst

Have you ever felt that fate is playing silly buggers with your head? That maybe someone up there has a sense of humour and you're just the joke of the day? Read on and tell me I'm not imagining it.

I used to spend a lot of time on the range with my friend Michelene, back in the days before she became a mother and found other priorities in life. We were training partners in those days, encouraging each other to work hard towards making the State team. We discussed technique, mental approach, every facet of the game, but often just talked utter bullshit. Like most shooters.

One particular Wednesday morning we were shooting some Sport and Standard on the 25 metre range. Another beautiful day in Queensland. This was the life!

Anyway, as I was walking to the line to shoot I felt a little windy in the chest area, so pounded my chest Tarzan-style to burp myself. Boy was that a mistake. Mish gave me a right dressing down; our sport requires stability and concentration, and she felt I was not taking things seriously. Her point was that gorillas pound their chests to get their heart rate going, which is exactly what we don't need to shoot well. Which wouldn't have stuck in my mind if she hadn't harped on about it for so long. Nurses can be very insistent.

Early the next morning I was at work as usual. At that time I was cleaning a lab at the University of Queensland. In the staff room was a daily wall calendar of The Far Side cartoons. Yesterday's sheet was still showing as the staff had not yet arrived. I went cold. This cartoon depicted a group of gorillas in the forest. One of them had his hand in his armpit, pumping his elbow up and down, apparently to make a farting noise. His companion was saying, "For goodness sake, Warren, why can't you pound your chest like everybody else?" For those who came in late, yes, my name is Warren. Scary, huh? If I learnt anything from Arthur Dent I guess it was never to be surprised by anything life throws at you. In an infinite universe anything is possible. But what I really want to know is - did art imitate life, or life imitate art? And who was responsible?

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