Groover is in Karratha this week and staying at one of their more salubrious establishments. That is to say, a very ordinary establishment indeed.
As he wandered back through the lobby he passed the front bar where an older Aboriginal man was playing pool.
The man jerked as Groover passed and shouted out Groover’s name loudly… it is not a common name.
Nonplussed, Groover walked over and said “Hello do I know you? My name is Groover*.”
The man started speaking in his native language at him. Groover replied that he didn’t understand what the man was saying and the man kind of came to – if that’s the best description. He looked confused and then told Groover that his son was also called Groover* and had died at only two years of age. He hadn’t said his son’s name since**.
Groover was completely freaked out by this and called me soon after to debrief.
*Plainly he didn’t say Groover, but Groover’s real name here. Who would name their child Groover?!
**Many Indigenous cultures avoid referring to dead people by their names.