Something Substantial

Well I've just got through major, I'll have to call it Autumn, cleaning so you should expect a good post. In common with the greats like Kesey, Burrows, Keats and Browning, I find a bit of washing and vacuuming inspirational to the literary muse.

Finally I've seen the line in the sand. It's always been hard to find anything to chew let alone nourishing in the waffle Bunnings feeds us. Dressed as 'soup of training' and garnished with 'team meetings' it all seems to evaporate like Fairy Floss or Sherbet. Now at last I see that which always eluded me and I know where the buck stops. The holy grail is foosball or to be more specific the foosball.

Wednesday evening , Sixish, came this announcement on the PA from none other than the Operations manager, yes 2IC himself " Attention team members, would the team member who took the Foosball please return it to the operations managers office immediately, that's the team member who took the Foosball, please return it to the Ops, Managers office immediately." The same message was repeated some four or so minutes later though in a more hostile and peeved tone.

Some background I see is necessary. About a year ago at a marketers exhibition in the showground pavilion at Homebush, team member 'M' had lady luck look favourably on him when his ticket reporting participation in one of the marketers presentations was drawn from the hat to prise* him with the beautiful Foosball table on show. Now perhaps the ladies' shine was not as warm as it seemed for 'M' soon learned that said table was not to be his personal accoutrement but rather the team acquisition of the store he represented. A mixed blessing it would seem as while on the one hand M was spared the social upheaval of a personal Foosball table (some of you might remember the 'Friends' Foosball episodes) and missed commercial advantage of the E-Bay auction. On the other he launched into the teams already crowded staff room a divisive and outrageously noisy device.

Foosball is not everyone's wicket but some of our multi cultural team take too it with a passion. Many , maybe most, of those who don't indulge hate it with a passion. The staff room furnished with four small tables pushed together into one to accommodate Mr. Foose, some chairs, fridges, dispensing machines, a sink, boiler, microwave and toaster, is small. With adjacent lounge (Eecch) furnished with large flat screen TV and two three seater lounges that started life less than a year ago as maroon suede velour and are now black crusty and always damp make one grateful for Bunnings uniform and apron. Relaxing in this environment even without the ruckus and noise of Foose is an active not passive endeavour. It's comes as no wonder then that one active minority might feel inclined to sabotage the pleasures of another Foose active minority.

As it turns out Ops. Manager, henceforth to be known as 2IC, the same person who apologised to me in private, but not in the public where I had addressed the question, to his bewilderment that waterless urinals were not just a matter of turning off the water and putting a sticker explaining waterlessness on the now redundant cistern, has become a passionate foosball fanatic. Forty something and close to 200 KG, his weight beginning at top of ear on the back of his neck and proceeding egg like from there he has the form of the inspiration for Humpty Dumpty or in a more modern sense and complemented by his goatee, of the devil in 'South Park the Movie' who fell so madly in love with Sadam Hussein.

It's difficult to imagine what other 'sporting' pursuits short of Sumo, whose almost religious dedication would probably preclude practitioners from executive roles in Bunnings, that one such as he could excel at. Yes I agree that 'sporting' stretches concepts but Foose requires more movement than Pinball and we all know how inspirational that has been.

Back then to Wednesday evening when indulging my second tea break I witnessed 2IC and his major Foose partner turn over the staff room in a manner that would have had MI5 applauding and the CIA issuing The Kissinger Medal of excellence. I fully expected to have to bend over and spread'em for a finger wave but was spared. Later, passing the Ops. Office I noted 2IC had drawn his chair up to the multi screen security camera monitor and was studying it intently with Coordinator 'V' who looks like the love child of all three Macbeth witches, standing behind him, her claw gouging into his shoulder, silently mouthing curses to be delivered by VHS cable.

Later still, maybe twenty minutes, came another announcement via the PA from 2IC "Attention team members, any team member with information about the whereabouts of the Foosball come to the Ops. Managers office where a reward of $50 worth of shopper dockets is on offer that's... (mandatory repeat)". Now ignoring the obvious what happened to the Gallipoli/John Howard/Kevin Rudd 'wouldn't dob on a mate' Aussie tradition being challenged here, at greater issue is how little needs to be offered in this low paid environment and in corporate currency. Bunnings gift vouchers as a bribe for what seems like an internal spat. Aren't Melbourne Storm in a lot of trouble for just such.

I later heard that this was the third day running that the ball had disappeared and whilst this could have contributed to the vehemence of 2IC's response I would think that it equally indicates a strong emotive reaction from the anti Foose camp that might be better dealt with in, um, mediation. At the end of the week the ball, or a ball, was back and I witnessed 2IC seriously into a game with Major Foose Partner when coordinator 'D' came and asked a question of 2IC. Before 'D' was answered 2IC protested to 'Major' as he obviously lost the point "you can't count that, she was talking to me" Mmmm

* As sports commentators verb medal I will verb prise. No appologies, this is Australia and sport rules.

Now with Cat in mind I pass on a few facts gleaned from this weekend's Sydney Morning Herald which I know she so misses.

Yesterday, Saturday, the World Expo opened in Shanghai ( I don't understand why the spelling of this city has not changed like Beijing and many others. Is it the only one those cock head English got right? sorry Kell.) Well blow me down with a Tiger Woods #9. I was well informed of Melbourne Storms disgraceful rorting of the salary cap, along with incidental volcanic ash clouds over Europe and oily disasters in the Gulf of Mexico. How was this kept so secret?

With someone's $48 billion spent, even more than the remake of Beijing for the 2008 Olympics and their own pavilion capable of hosting more than 26 soccer games in an upside down pyramid that could get the world cup over and done with in a couple of days and avoid the carnage of turning Darling Harbour into a 'Booze Fest' but that's another story. The monumental 2.6 square kilometre cleared (of 18000 families and 270 factories including the Jiang Nan Shipyards employing 10,000 workers) site alongside the Huangpu River, twice the size of Monaco, houses a giant baby outside the Spanish exhibit and an aerial view of the British Pavilion that looks suspiciously like an artist's photo shop bang up. Chinese have been urged to Queue better, spit less and not wear pyjamas in public

With 25 million tickets sold and city officials projecting more than 70 million what chance do I stand at this late date. Bugger you Herald. Who cares about some Melbourne crim getting his comeuppance in maximum 'security' at the wrong end of a piece of exercise bike? keep your mind on the main game. China. Bunnings does, as indeed do their parent company of global polluters.