Blog#6 Pick up sticks

So you all see it’s true, not just me bullshitting they're engaged, parties planned, everything. I’m taking it well aren’t I? Of course no ones said the M word yet and I’m not sure I can either, or that I want to hear it. Engaged that’s not so scary, but M., mmm scary. Bet you all thought nothing would scare me Eh!? I didn’t either. Maybe that’s why some people live so long, they just keep finding something to frighten them, and they like it. Wadd’ya think? Kids like scary movies, a rush of adrenalin says you’re alive Woo!
Before I stray inevitably into the Bunnings Report - none of that groaning children or there’ll be extra homework for everyone – let’s have a report on what we saw in the papers this week. My eye was caught by the photo in the “Terror” of Sharpe, Neville and Walsh, re-enacting the old P&O joke from OZ Magazine oh so long ago. What wonderful memories, but doesn’t Rupert own this paper? Of course I get it, subversive grows into establishment, it’s just like walking through Woolies listening to ‘Sally Can’t Dance’ by Lou Reed, god bless the subversives who live to see it. I ripped the page out to show Alice even though I knew she’d just say “yes dad, ok dad” and when I took it out of my pocket I saw the article about Phil Koperberg the new Labor candidate for the Blue Mountains at the top of the page. I knew that that ever increasing mass of bling on his chest was leading somewhere. They’ll be looking for a new fire chief. I could do that. Then I noticed at the bottom of the page an article about that lovely Crocodile fellow Irwin, recently departed but still fondly remembered by the children of South Park. Can’t wait for the Simpsons episode. Ahh Fame! there’s fifteen minutes worth lurking out there for all of us according to the god of pop. Is it better to get it done with a-la Sharpe Neville Walsh and live with the consequences (or) pin it on day by day year by year Koperberg style or go out in a blaze that might have consequences beyond the grave, the Irwin way Waddya think? SMS on0432936536 and just press 1. for S.N.W., 2. for Kop’e and 3. for The Croc hunter. Spelling and neatness will be taken into consideration.
For those of you who know nothing of Sharpe, Neville, Walsh , Google “OZ Mag.” and if you can find “The Gas Lash” I was there. Those who don’t know Koperberg are probably dead. Those who don’t know Irwin are certainly of a yet undiscovered Papuan tribe and are likely to be cannibals as indeed I suspect was Irwin but don’t quote me.
Now for what you’ve all been waiting, Ta! Ta! “The Bunnings Report” (I swear I’ll soon start putting the apostrophe in, even if Bunnings don’t, just to keep Word happy, all that red wriggly line, Bahh!) The weather was cooler in the latter stages of this week which helped my feet to feel not so heavy during the latter stages of shifts. Meghan is still my favorite but her voracious appetite for gossip is quite exhausting and probably beyond me ultimately. I showed Mahesh and Chris my Senior’s card this week so there acting more deferential, especially Mahesh who has a Imperial reverence for history. Week days are spent mostly stocking shelves but Saturday is a special treat with plenty of customers of all colors and creeds from all walks of life. Builders and would bee’s are pacing the car park at ten to eight and need no help as they rush to the isles they know at eight. That’s not to say there not vocal when we’re out of that or they want to know “why don’t we have it in metric” My retort about the muscle bound giant who rules the world and who’s minions are too dumb and isolated to understand a world standard (“ why not our standard?”) usually goes over their heads, no one cares or listens at that time of day and by ten past eight there gone leaving us in a void till about nine when the first families arrive. Bless you lord for creating families, there such fun. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many extremely pregnant women, theres something about pregnancy and home renovations and it doesn’t end with birth either. Clever Bunnings have shopping trolleys with baby cradles attached, they know. Mums and dads split up and via the magic of the mobile communicate their discoveries. Toddlers career around or ride in trolleys. Little boys with their daddies watch attentively anxious to learn about this mans world, ready to try anything they can get their hands on. Little girls more interested in the producer than the product are easily engaged for hide and seek or any other eyeballing game. The laid back Aussie has nothing to prove so thank god for our more recent stylish arrivals forgeing their way. The South East Asians are good. They always cooperate and present as a group complementing each other with their Ali-G or like styles. I saw a group of Japanese, father with teens, the boy in high back sneakers with out laces so that he stepped out of them with each step. Girl in lolly mixture carrying a yellow semi collapsed collapsible floral brolly which she twirled as brolly twirlers do. Not full blown like her peers in the homeland but certainly aware and doing her best in this cultural desert. A black girl with braids, Waist length jacket and soft loose moss green trousers the right leg of which she had gathered with yellow fluorescent tape ,presumably to keep it out of her bicycle chain looked like she’d stepped straight from the pages of French Vogue. Then at about two in the afternoon the Aristotles arrive. Five foot four with carefully brushed silver leonine curls, olive skin, tight for their age, expensive silky polo shirts without any buttons done up, gold chains, hairy chests and reeking of Arrack and Poschuto. What they’re there for I’ve yet to asses, perhaps it’s a beat though I’ve not yet noticed the Cleopatras or Angelos. They certainly don’t seem that interested in the hardware.
The big seller this week has been smoke alarms and I’ll leave to you law abiding citizens to guess why. The number of calls I’ve taken this week from Matraville mums or Lewisham landlords who want a concise report on what we have and what it costs and why so much and will it take thallidiom battries and can it be hard wired and how many do I need and where should I put them (no I didn’t tell anyone that) but I did get around to telling a few that if they had left it till now it was obvious that their motive for having them was one of legal compliance only, and that therefore all they should really be interested in was price and ease of installation, and that I understood that and I was unwilling to take on the burden of their guilt in that that was all that they cared about. Was I too harsh? I don’t think so. I also read in the paper this week that there were no inspectors. I could do that. Imagine the potential for graft. One of the reasons for variations in price was obviously length of warranty. What a laugh. If your house burns down, and you are all killed, and the alarm doesn’t work just being it back and we will replace it. A sort of loose - loose situation as I see it, am I being too cynical?
Before I sign off I’ll let you in on my most recent learning experience. Got home last night about seven armed with Thai fried rice and two long necks of Resh’s Pilstener which along with the one in the fridge would get me through the night and Sunday as well. All went to plan till about eight when I discovered Australia and England slugging it out in the league, how good was this. Well before half time I began to feel snackish and went for the White Castello I knew was in the fridge, but what was this no crackers, not possible. Half time came and I’d kill for a snack, Why I’d just ride quickly up to the IGA grab the crackers and be back in no time. Unlock the bike and off we go. Whats this in my hand, keys, I’ll put them in my pocket. Whoops I’m heading a bit quickly towards the roundabout, better brake, Whoops that’s the front brake and the roads greasy from that recent light rain. Amazing how fast you can go over the handlebars and how slow it can seem. Well I’m alright anyway, bit of a gravel rash on the left palm but damaged ego seems the worst of it. Opps what’s that feels like blood from the brow, better just go back, perhaps I’m a little pissed. Inside in the light I survey the damage, as is typical of such an accident it’s the extremities, the outer corners of the body that sustain the damage, apart from the palm rash there’s a rash on the elbow and the eye brow has a nick just like the footballers get but wait a minute what’s this , a gravel rash in the middle of my belly, that can that be an extremity can it, apparently so. Oh well no real damage, lucky eh!
Woke in the middle of the night with a very painful wrist and hours of pain later realized that what pain killers are for. In the clear light of day I have a very sore wrist a romantic nick to the eye brow that a make up artist could not improve on, a very embarrassing gravel rash to the stomach that no one shall ever see, all of which will owing to my competent immune system heal. Unfortunately a close examination of the bike this morning reveals both gear pods totaled and its immune system seems dependant on my hip pocket where I risk further gravel rash. What have I learned; If your going to drink and ride, don’t drink, or don’t ride or don’t drink and don’t ride but whatever you do don’t drink and ride. So simple really.
Love to the world
Robert