Toward Political Correctness in Blogging....Boing

Wow, no more Limbo, what a relief, now non baptized babies can go to heaven. I wasn’t too concerned but when recently it was announced that there was indeed a fire and brimstone hell; well I tell you that put the wind up me. Thank god for the International Theological Commission. Of course I wonder about all those unbaptised babes who died prior to this ruling but I’m sure there are enough lawyers in heaven to take up their cause. Come to think, “sure” may not be the right word to use in relation to lawyers in heaven, perhaps I should use “hope” instead.

You’ve no idea what a panic the idea of Limbo put me in as a young altar boy, especially when they made it into a dance at which the darker races excelled - well just like any dance I suppose - but I digress. All those innocent babes condemned forever, or until judgment day and god knows when that will be, to live apart from the lord. In the Australia of mine and John Howard’s youth it just didn’t seem fair. What did some Eytie Pope know about anything? Thank god and the coven of cardinals for that Polish bloke and now this Kraut, I cant wait till the Aussie to get her run.

You might think I’m a bit out of step talking about DARKER RACES but I’m in good company. I read recently of a black Washington socialite’s dismay to have her child find a tag on her recently delivered lounge describing the color as “nigger brown”. As the buck was passed it landed in a Chinese dictionary computer program which translated dark brown into a Chinese character which when converted back to English came up with the offending nigger brown. Much closer to home the NSW Police are being encouraged once more to curb their penchant for racial descriptions of suspects when issuing bulletins. I know the juries still out on this one but I have to agree that describing people wearing balaclavas as being of middle eastern appearance is over the line. On the other hand I think it’s stretching political correctness just a bit too far to remove my favorite Yoghurt from the supermarket shelves simply for describing itself as Greek Style.

I’ve seen many things change in my time you know like ten o’clock closing and no Sunday trading, yes children, imagine living without 24/7, I know it seems impossible but Johnny and I are survivors of that. It’s obviously scarred him but I’m OK. D’you know I’ve never strapped on a walkman though I did once share one side of Alice’s I Pod. Neither of the first two houses I am conscious of living in had telephones and at the farm where we eventually had a phone we were on a shared line between ourselves and the Bolands. A complex set of short and long rings indicated who a call was for and the adults had to rely on we youngn’s to identify which was which in this Hi Tec world. I left that farm at fifteen and do not recollect having ever made or received a call. I was raised in a time when car windows were portals to a huge garbage dump. “This cans empty” “well chuck it out” Then along came air conditioning which ruined all that. Television arrived in my part of Australia in late 62 when I was almost seventeen and it was strictly monitored. Don’t want your seventeen year olds exposed to the corruptions of 1962 Australian TV do you. Just how I was able to grow into the balanced senior you see without My Space and You Tube I’ll never understand. Yes I’ve seen a great deal of change so its weird to note that the thing that has remained most constant is clothing fashions. “Huh”… you say, “yes” I say. Those old bakelite phones are no longer of use to any other than movie props persons but stovepipe trousers can be seen allover town. The TV your watching will be of no use to you in a couple of years when all is digital which says nothing of that old black and white up the shed if you’ve got that sort of space to burn. Frocks and sets however will just continue to morph. What is old will yet be new and grandfathers cardigan will be Paris’s fave, robe, rag or threads while the video cassette like its audio ancestor will never be heard from again. Find for me the one who believes we will once more witness the car window trash can and I’ll show you a person living in a Mad Max delusion whilst at the same time pointing out Max’s leathers, derived from his past still live in his future.

Good night for now,
Thanks to all my family for treating me as normal and with food, drinks, cakes and bonhomie at our most recent outing.
Special thanks to Dott for the hospitality of her and Strobes holiday park as Chris so aptly puts it. Thanks also to Dott also for the “mums boot sale” which I thought was conducted in an exemplary dignified manner and should have been recorded for used in training videos for David Jones and Coles Myers. (see Christmas sales)
Thanks to Chris and Sue for returning in time for the event and to avert the inevitable bbq of Olley which was planned in their absence. Thanks also again to them for having Kelly.
Thanks to John who traveled so far to be with us plonko’s though I’m confident we’re worth it.
Thanks to anne for the excellent and unique deserts.
Thanks to Mathew for deciding that going along with three fifths of the family was better than home alone with the footy
Thanks to Ross for bringing them.
Thanks to Gabby for cardigan inspiration, holes or no.
Thanks to Allan a favorite memory from my childhood.
Thanks to Hugh who will always serve as the other half of my early memories.
Thanks to Alice for her Alicenessnes.
Thanks to Jane for her Janenessnes.
And thanks most of all to Glen for just being Strobe, who keeps the fires burning.
Love Ya All
Robert