I think of two things when I read the final. When I was a kid there was always some sports final to look forward to. There were school finals and local finals. But I did love the big games, Cricket, VFL, Soccer, motor sports on the telly. Not so bothered these days, I find I drift off and want do something else rather than watch hours of sport. I just catch the highlights unless its special.
The other memory of final, which has never seemed to far away, is the dreaded Final Demand, the bluey, the D-letter, the end of your life. Well not quite, I’m still here but I’ve seen a few of them. My late father was pretty good at Final Demands, we once lost a house due to more than just dad’s inability to handle money, but it was devastating. I once surrendered a car, I blew way too much on wild living to keep up the payments. So I know about Final Demands.
My many journeys into study has resulted in a wary eye to the bank balance. The missed licence due date (worthy of yellow eyed fear – who wants to put the car in for a rigorous Dept. of Transport inspection?), the grovelling (I can pay next week …), I’m glad I haven’t seen one for a while, though reminder letters make me nervous. So I hope that’s final.