Fair Dinkum is a term you don’t tend to hear so much these days. Old fashioned. Outdated. Not cool. Too ockerish (Australian). It harks back to a time when sport and sporting heroes were amateur, working jobs to afford to compete. Of telephones that were only as mobile as the cord on the receiver would let you move — a few feet. No cameras. No ubiquitous connectivity. No addictive apps. It was a time when your word meant something and a handshake was as good as a contract. In other words, a lifetime ago.

There is debate to the actual origins of fair dinkum because it has been around since the first British settlers placed foot on Australian soil. For as long as I can remember, it was used to mean true, honest, and genuine. Qualities that seemed to have wilted under modern notions of self-importance and winning at all costs.

The idea behind this newsletter is to share stories with you of a Fair Dinkum nature and to question those that are not.

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Sharing stories of a Fair Dinkum nature and to question those that are not.

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I am an Australian, who in 1994 at the age of thirty-four, thought it would be a good idea to take a year off and teach English in Tokyo. Still here in Tokyo.