Election

My prediction of a landslide LNP coalition victory was certainly wrong and it seems the event has got us nowhere. For my part I voted at about lunchtime at the local primary school after standing in a queue. The best part about it was seeing and talking to my friend Dulcie who was handing out Greens voting pamphlets.

The Emerald Secondary College had sausage sizzle going but I didn't see one person buy a sausage, the people on the queue were not in the mood for them at $2.50 each and $1.50 for a can of soft drink. there were many people I had never seen before including a mum and dad in front of me with three rowdy kids. The bloke bent over to pick up his demanding toddler every second minute then put it down again, each time his bum crack exposed, the mum, whose hair at the ends was died bright pink, was speaking very loudly to the other two in banal kiddie speak and I was finding it all hard to take. There was woman with purple hair, blokes with grotty track suits and sneakers and baseball caps, and shaved heads and bits of metal stuck in lips ears top and lobes or eyebrows. Another pair of parents with metal facial paraphenalia and black clothes attended a baby in a pram, the mothers arms and the backs of her hands heavily tattooed.

It was  relief to see my friend Barbara come out of the voting area, she spotted me and came over to me. I noticed she had a handkerchief in her mouth covering her lower lip and realized straight away she had not found her lower teeth. Mum told me she had called in top pick up a posy last Friday at the farm and she was distressed because she had lost her lower teeth somehow and was upset and couldn't really talk properly with mum. Barb told me the posy was lovely and she had the box and tin it was packed in in her car and if she could give it to me it would save her taking it back to Elvie. I said yes and followed her to her car after asking the bloke behind me if he would let back in the queue in a few minutes.

The day had started badly when Lib on her way to work was distracted trying not to spill her cup of tea and got her front wheels off the gravel and slid nose first into the shrubbery, thoroughly bogging her car. She took Ian's Subie instead and I rang her work to say she'd be a few minutes late. It was dark still and cold and wet,  and besides not being able to see I couldn't have got the car out easily anyway so I pretended it wasn't there and got on with the laundry before going to back to bed for an hour or so.

I baked some Cippollini onions in prep for our visitors coming the next day, to add to the numerous dishes Lib had prepared, and bought a tomato and bacon quiche at the bakery as instructed and also a chicken breast which I cut up into small pieces and baked in the oven with the onions. These dried out meat treats I give to Pip at different times and a batch lasts a few weeks. I set the fire and organized wood for a few days and before I knew it Lib was home from work. I found a tow rope and managed to pull Lib's car out forwards with the Subie in low ratio after cutting away shrubbery. There was little damage, just a busted headlight protector.

I didn't watch must of the election count on TV, I watched a bit of footy and fell asleep in the chair.
My prediction may have been wrong but I do think our nation is in serious crisis. Turnbull talks of 'Jobs and Growth' but the only businesses proliferating around this district are coffee shops, pizza shops or real estate agents. Jason Wood has promised money to do up the local footy club rooms, and those at Officer, and has pledged $5mil to Puffing Billy to set up a Heritage Centre at Emerald Lake Park to attract hordes of Chinese tourists (the last thing I want to see I might add) - pork barreling at it's best, like the $8million Police station and the $2mil firestation at Emerald from the Libs after the state election before last.

Hopefully the phone will be a little quieter now that politicians and survey seekers will be taking a break. The calls will now be from the multitude of charities that are forever seeking money. The media was full of tales about beggars in Melbourne recently, homeless people camping and asking for money. These charities are sophisticated beggars, always wanting money. The telemarketers rattle of their spiel with hardly a break for breath, the theory is - "keep em on the line, make em think they've taken up your valuable time as you crusade for good, they'll give you something if you you make em feel they've used up your valuable time."

Just like the car salesmen tactics described brilliantly in Stienbeck's 'The Grapes of Wrath', which I'm re reading now after 40 years, and realizing how relevant the theme is in today's world. The telemarketers work on commission just like the car salesmen.

There's something seriously wrong with government in this country and we are in a real mess. And now we have Pauline Hanson back! What does it say about us?