Life of Riley: Whats in a life?
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
