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A four letter word
Work. It may be one of the most indecent of four letter words and such it is that Marty has succumbed. Instead of buying a nice quiet little bar in Patong and drinking himself slowly but contentedly into an early grave something quite unfortunate has occurred. Tidy clothes have been brought, lunches made, and heigh ho, heigh ho it is off to work each day, to something called a Division Industrial Officer for the Western Australian branch of the National Tertiary Education Union. After a week it still seems impossible to know what it is all about, but in theory at least it is similar to Marty’s job in New Zealand - and after fifteen years he still didn’t know what that was all about. Meanwhile, the more fortunate Kaelene busies herself daily preparing the house for tenancy inspections and looking after Pokie the tame pug. She’s getting him into an exercise regime after a life of complete and utter idleness, where even a canter to the food bowl stretched him to the limit.
This diversion (work) is, hopefully, only temporary, there are lotteries drawn several times a week and while we might not have yet struck a jackpot, we have been regularly winning small prizes and so it is only a matter of time until the big one is ours. It is an omen.
What makes the new job more fleeting is that the position is for a limited term, replacing a staff member on leave and for that reason alone it is scheduled to come to an end by mid-year. It doesn’t seem quite fair that, while the skies are blue and temperatures in the mid-thirties each day, Marty has to be stuck indoors. At least he thinks not.
Nevertheless, one of the good things about working in the early half of the year is that is when most of the public holidays fall, the next being Australia Day on 26 January. And this is where a difference between New Zealand and Australia is clearly highlighted. With under a fortnight to go, the shops are full of Australia Day memorabilia; for the fashion conscious there are hats resplendent with beer can holders and straws for gravity feeding, caps with small umbrellas protruding out the top, bikinis and men’s underwear, capes and other ridiculous clothing, and for those that like the outdoors there are the decorated eskies, stubby coolers, chairs and sun umbrellas. What took our fancy were the contact lenses, the fake tattoos and then the toothpicks, every one adorned in the Australian national flag, and this is simply brilliant. Already, cars have flags flying from their windows, as often as not one from each window. There is none of this cringing about an ensign comprising the union jack and a handful of stars. The Aussies love it, Australia Day and nationhood being a really big deal, and it is expected the entire population of Perth will line the Swan River in the evening to watch fireworks and the added spectacle of teenagers fighting each other and the cops fighting them all.
Another fight is brewing, elsewhere in Perth where we continue to enjoy the adventures of one Richard Pennicuik, known as the tree man of Thornlie. He has been perched up a tree outside his house for more than 6 weeks now in an attempt to stop the local council from cutting it down. As the weeks have gone by Pennicuik has made himself quite a home, with a rope ladder into the higher branches for exercise, a platform for perching and even a toilet area. Pennicuik refuses to come down and has become quite defiant, saying he now likes living there and is prepared to stay for twenty years. All the time it has become an increasing public relations disaster for the council. Its spokesperson, an insipid looking twit, has served a notice on the tree-man saying he has broken the law by constructing his platform “without approval” and faces a $5,000 fine. If that’s not enough to spur Pennicuik on, he also admitted that, while the council wants to cut down the tree because it supposedly poses a danger, the actual tree has never been examined to determine whether this is actually the case. “We can’t be expected to inspect all the trees,” the twit said.
It is probably the same in New Zealand, but if anything has been learned from the recession, it is that nothing has changed. One of Australia’s biggest private companies, Griffin Coal, has just gone under with unsecured debts of as much as $A1 billion. Incredulously, Griffin’s owner, Ric Stowe is among his failed company’s creditors with other companies he owns submitting claims against Griffin, Not surprisingly, Stowe was unavailable to speak to television reporters as they tried to gain access to his opulent West Australia ranch.
Perhaps a highlight of the week, the local commissioner of police is playing at a fund raising concert for victims of recent bushfires with his band, The Filth.