Fremantlebiz - Paul's Letter from Australia

Christmas cheer time

The time for Christmas payback is upon us as others size up whether or not there is any value in inviting us to their annual pigout.

The Prime Minister held his last night at Kirribilli House in Sydney. My wife and I would have liked to go except it is on the other side of the continent and the taxi fare home would have been a bit memorable. Plus we didn't have clothing of the retro-frump style by which we could have mingled with the Liberal bluebloods on the A list. Well we actually do have some, but the last time I tried I couldn't fit into any of my suits.

The B list was there last night too, but they were mostly sports stars willing to be photographed standing with Mr Howard with a glass of taxpayer funded chardonet. I prefer champagne myself.

The nibbles would have been pretty good. Typical Aussie stuff. None of that Lebanese rubbish. Mrs Howard would have made a half a dozen trips to the supermarket during the week to buy last minute items she'd overlooked. I bet Jatz crackers with a bit of Kraft cheese and a slice of green ghurkin on top are still one of the PM's favourites. Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without them. And what about the potato crisps? A choice of seven different types on his table this year - a sure sign that life has never been luckier in our lucky country.

The problem with inviting Liberal bluebloods is that none of them ever offer to hang around and help clean up after all the platitudes have been poured. They were born to freeload. By 9pm everyone would have jumped into their Beamers and gone somewhere else more exciting - somewhere like Redfern where everyone parties all night.

This morning there will be the sound of empty bottles being chucked in the wheelie bin as Mr Howard tidies up. Then he will charge off on a morning walk to inspect the beachfronts before the weekend's race riots get under way. Of course its daylight saving there so he is three hours ahead of us. He's probably got his head in the fridge by now inspecting the leftovers.

While the PM was entertaining the best of the best last night, all my plumber sons were guests at a very successful Western Australian Kitchen renovation business for which they install all the new watery stuff.

The company has an Argentinean employee who operates a barbecue catering service in his spare time. I can tell you right away that Argentineans are a bunch of carnivores, and this one was no exception. He spent quite a bit of time yesterday on behalf of his boss roasting up the best parts of a cow in the true tradition of the Pampas. The long and short of it was the boys didn't want any dinner when they came home.

My wife and I trotted off to Garden City early yesterday morning in the eternal quest for more gifts. I have decided I don't want to go there again this year. The place has run out of anything I want to buy. If someone came and knocked on my door and said I had won a prize to fill a shopping trolley in ten minutes for free, I wouldn't know what to grab. Its all become so boring.

The big shops have really been a bit Mickey Mouse this year. Maybe all the good stuff is still on the wharves where there has been an enormous backlog of cargo because the Australian Customs Service commissioned a new mega computer system before the programming bugs were ironed out.

New books must be one of the things effected. This year's choice is pathetic at Kmart, nothing like in previous years. Where there used to be a mighty pile of the latest titles at discount prices, now there is a big box of Christmas wrapping paper. Indeed, wrapping paper obviously was one of the things that got through the Customs system okay because there is tons of it stashed all over the store. Probably enough for this year and the next - if only we could find some interesting stuff to wrap in it.

I actually did see something interesting yesterday. There is a shop called Wheel and Barrow. You might think it was a gardening or hardware store, but they specialise in kitchenware for the socially upward mobile, or is it the upward socially mobile? You know the type: "Oh yes dhhharling, I've just been to the Wheel and Barrow to buy a new set of glasses for the chardonet."

I was wandering like Homer Simpson along the shopping mall when there was an almighty crash from a service passage next to Wheel and Barrow.. This leads to a section of the huge complex where humble shoppers like me are forbidden to go. The section where the trucks unload their stuff from the wharf and where the fetid rubbish bins are located.

"Was it a terrorist attack?" I immediately thought, and then, "Darn, I didn't bring my camera."

But it wasn't a profitable photo opportunity. A couple of female employees had been fetching a huge trolley load of new stock and as they passed through the massive spring-loaded doors several cartons had fallen to the floor. "Oh no!" one of them cried. "Oh my gawd! said the other, forgetting to talk proper.

As they restacked the boxes I could hear that all was not well inside. There was a distinctive tinkling sound. An expensive tinkling sound. If there are any blueblood matrons who had chardonet glasses ordered for collection this morning they might be in for a disappointment, but if they are into glass mosaics they might find a few bargains.

Now I must report another bargain opportunity which will be on again today until about 1pm. I mentioned last Saturday that the huge Mills and Wares cake factory in the nearby suburb of O'Connor was quitting stock. I went at about 8pm but the crowds of hungry peasants were too large, I went back at 10am and there was still vast quantities of stuff at very, very, very, cheap prices, a third of what you would pay in a supermarket for the identical items. No seconds, everything was top quality.

So if you are into top quality Christmas puddings, Anzac biscuits and dozens of other diet destroyers and always felt you couldn't afford them, you will be able to today. I think we spent about thirty bucks last week. Too bad if you don't live in these parts.

© MMV Paul R. Weaver.

About the writer

Check out each month's subject index on the Calendar Page for my "common-man" monologues about survival in 21st century Australia – plus a little history occasionally. An original essay is added most days.

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