Derham Groves

In 2002 I published a little book titled The Rebuses of Sherlock Holmes containing eight Sherlockian rebuses devised by the Australian book designer, cartoonist and graphic artist Vane Lindesay. This one is my favourite:

Recently I purchased an autograph book that once belonged to John E. Forrest of Marrickville N.S.W. In 1947 he collected the autographs of many local and overseas sporting identities, including the boxers Ken Bailey and Vic Patrick; the cricketer Keith Miller; the wrestlers Al Costello (who wrestled with Roy Heffernan in the USA as the Fabulous Kangaroos), Dutch Hefner, Sammy Stein (also a NFL footballer), and Big Chief Little Wolf; and even the photojournalist Frank Hurley who, when he wasn’t photographing the Antarctic with Ernest Shackleton, was photographing the wrestling. It’s a great collection of 42 signatures.

Thumbnail sketches of (L-R) Moe Howard, Larry Fine, Curly Howard, and Shemp Howard—four absolute comic geniuses. Moe, Curly and Shemp were brothers. When Curly died, Shemp took his place. But not many people know there was another Howard brother, Johnny, who was extremely unfunny:

Portrait of me (above) looking like Larry Fine (left), the middle, and my favourite, Stooge. Recently I read a review of the popular TV series House, which claimed that this show could never have been made had it not been for The Sopranos. This got me thinking. The Sopranos could never have been made had it not been for The Three Stooges, in my view. The same could also be said for several other classic TV shows, such as Seinfeld and The Simpsons. What brilliant, and sadly underrated, performers Moe, Larry, Curly and Shemp were. They were true surrealists.

I’m committed to the notion of everydayness and to recording day-to-day events on this blog. Most things that happen are good, but occasionally you’re served a shit sandwich. My car was stolen in front of our house on Friday night. It is the second car I’ve had stolen in 12 months. I’m not rich, but regardless of that I actually like driving old cars. The first car stolen was Dad’s old Holden. To my surprise I got it back after three weeks when the police caught the drongo who nicked the car driving it in Ascot Vale. In the meantime, though, I’d bought another old Holden, which was the second one stolen. Today I got a call from the police to say that it had been found burned-out in Roxborough Park. It was a nice car. There are some fucking nasty mongrels in the world, let me tell you.

Earlier this year I bought a little notebook for $1 at a flea market in Geelong, which had belonged to J. Davies, a student at the Gordon Institute of Technology. Davies had used it to record information about a trip he made to Western Australia in 1965. He made several extensive and very puzzling lists, including this one describing the things he ‘Brought back in kit-bag: money belt; 2 (white & fawn) tennis shirts; 1 underpants; 1 socks; camera & exposed film; 2 grey & 1 navy shorts; 8 unused & 5 self-washed handkerchiefs; hat; 2 books; 3 brooches & a pin (gem stones); large packet of diverse documents & papers; arch supports; raincoat (plastic); mosquito net (& fly veil); file; small kit-bag with snorkel & rope; bag of dirty laundry; bag of toilet articles.’ He then went on to list the contents of the latter two bags. ‘Dirty laundry returned: 1 socks; 3 underpants; 5 handkerchiefs. Toilet articles: toothpaste & brush; shaver; torch; repellent — fly rid; wart goo (Satd Na2Ca3.10 H2O); pad & envelopes; bayonet plug; bandaids; string; cotton wool; buttons, needle & thread; Vaseline; Savlon; toothpics; Aspro; Kwells; matches; cellulose tape.’ The notebook also contains a few rough sketches, including the following one showing how to fold a jacket:

The Ghosts of My Friends is a kind of autograph book that was published around the turn of the 20th century. The directions inside it state: ‘Sign your name along the fold of the paper with a full pen of ink, and then double the page over without using blotting paper.’ The resultant smuges sometimes looked like ghostly or supernatural figures. My copy of The Ghosts of My Friends originally belonged to Lysle Davey of ‘Cullen House’ Bendigo. Following are the signatures of two of his friends, Ethel Kick and Fred H. Milvain.