The philosophers are at Semaphore Beach, the day after seeing their final Fringe show, Free Fall. They are walking along in the shallows, which are patterned with a fine brown silt.
Belle et Bonne: I feel a little sad today. We have no more shows to go to. Soon it will be time to go home.
Marie: Me too. But Free Fall was good, wasn't it.
Belle et Bonne: It was magic. I was totally entranced.
The VeloDrone: So was I! In fact, I feel like doing a somersault!
Le Bon David; Don't, Vello! You're not as young as those young acrobats last night.
The VeloDrone: No need to remind me. Ah the young! So fearless and brave, so beautiful. So heartbreaking.
Belle et Bonne: I know what you mean, papa. But it's not that they're fearless. They faced up to their fears.
Marie: What did you say when they asked you what you were afraid of?
Belle et Bonne: I said, losing my sense of smell.
The VeloDrone: Really? I sometimes wish I could lose mine. Such as when we were having a drink in the alley bar next to the drain.
Le Bon David: Yes that was a bit on the nose. What are you afraid of Vello?
The VeloDrone: I'm afraid of being thought a fool.
Le Bon David: You ought to have got used to it by now! Just joking. Shall I tell you what I'm afraid of?
Marie: Women.
Le Bon David: How do you know?
Marie: Because you are always excessively polite to them.
Le Bon David: Hum hum. Oh well they always say if you want to understand a philosopher you must first find out what he is afraid of. What are you afraid of Marie?
Marie: Oh, quicksand, drowning, burning, and dogs.
Belle et Bonne: That's impressive, Marie! You must be the best philosopher of us all.
Showing posts with label drain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drain. Show all posts
Friday, March 11, 2011
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Part 4 : My Life in Crime
FAILURE TO PAY.
I was six years old and in Grade 2 at Hectorville Primary. They had a system for raising money called Voluntary Contributions. Each month they sent home a little yellow card for your parents to fill in and send back with some money. You had to give it to the teacher the next morning. Something went wrong once, and I missed the moment for giving the money to the teacher. The yellow card and the ten shilling note stayed in my schoolbag. I spent the entire next month freaking out, not knowing what to do with the money. I lived in terror of discovery, unaware at six years old of the meaning of the word Voluntary. I don't remember what happened to the money. It's probably still in the bag. ( Moral: It pays to increase your vocabulary.)
INDECENT ACT.
I'm 8. I'm playing in the front garden. I want to pee. I squat down and pee in a drain next to the house. A neighbour sees me and tells my mum and dad. Dad gives me a smack on the leg. Before smacking me he says, "You're too old for smacks." ( Moral: Pee round the back.)
LYING UNDER OATH.
I was giving evidence at the Rent Tribunal in the case of my son versus his landlord who claimed my son had vacated the property without properly cleaning the bath. The landlord was claiming a ridiculous amount for having it professionally cleaned. I had cleaned the bath for my son but I hadn't had enough time to clean it properly. However I didn't think that it was all that bad. What did you use to clean the bath, Mrs Webber? asked the judge. I used Ajax and Chux Superwipes, I said brazenly, lying under oath. This was because I didn't want to admit that I had used Home Brand products. Even so, the landlord whistled through his teeth. Anyone would think his bath was made of gold. In the end the judge ruled my son and the landlord should pay half each, and congratulated all of us for being honest. ( Moral: A confident lie is advantageous in court.)
HIT AND RUN.
In the KMart carpark 10 years ago I reversed out into the path of an oncoming vehicle. I heard a metallic crunch. I thought I had reversed over the kerb or worse. I looked over my shoulder briefly, saw nothing and drove off, as I was late to pick up my daughter. There I got out of the car and looked at the back. I had obviously been in a collision. We drove back to the KMart and I presented myself at the police station on the shopping strip. Inside were 2 distaught non-English speaking ladies whose car I had dinged. I tried to explain the inexplicable to the police officer. You realise it is a crime to leave the scene of an accident? he said sternly. Oh yes I do, I said, I'm so sorry, I didn't know I'd had one and as soon as I found out I CAME BACK. I knew how lame this sounded. Nor was it exactly true. But he let me off, and filed a normal accident report.
( Moral: It is possible, but risky, to meet contradictory obligations.)
I was six years old and in Grade 2 at Hectorville Primary. They had a system for raising money called Voluntary Contributions. Each month they sent home a little yellow card for your parents to fill in and send back with some money. You had to give it to the teacher the next morning. Something went wrong once, and I missed the moment for giving the money to the teacher. The yellow card and the ten shilling note stayed in my schoolbag. I spent the entire next month freaking out, not knowing what to do with the money. I lived in terror of discovery, unaware at six years old of the meaning of the word Voluntary. I don't remember what happened to the money. It's probably still in the bag. ( Moral: It pays to increase your vocabulary.)
INDECENT ACT.
I'm 8. I'm playing in the front garden. I want to pee. I squat down and pee in a drain next to the house. A neighbour sees me and tells my mum and dad. Dad gives me a smack on the leg. Before smacking me he says, "You're too old for smacks." ( Moral: Pee round the back.)
LYING UNDER OATH.
I was giving evidence at the Rent Tribunal in the case of my son versus his landlord who claimed my son had vacated the property without properly cleaning the bath. The landlord was claiming a ridiculous amount for having it professionally cleaned. I had cleaned the bath for my son but I hadn't had enough time to clean it properly. However I didn't think that it was all that bad. What did you use to clean the bath, Mrs Webber? asked the judge. I used Ajax and Chux Superwipes, I said brazenly, lying under oath. This was because I didn't want to admit that I had used Home Brand products. Even so, the landlord whistled through his teeth. Anyone would think his bath was made of gold. In the end the judge ruled my son and the landlord should pay half each, and congratulated all of us for being honest. ( Moral: A confident lie is advantageous in court.)
HIT AND RUN.
In the KMart carpark 10 years ago I reversed out into the path of an oncoming vehicle. I heard a metallic crunch. I thought I had reversed over the kerb or worse. I looked over my shoulder briefly, saw nothing and drove off, as I was late to pick up my daughter. There I got out of the car and looked at the back. I had obviously been in a collision. We drove back to the KMart and I presented myself at the police station on the shopping strip. Inside were 2 distaught non-English speaking ladies whose car I had dinged. I tried to explain the inexplicable to the police officer. You realise it is a crime to leave the scene of an accident? he said sternly. Oh yes I do, I said, I'm so sorry, I didn't know I'd had one and as soon as I found out I CAME BACK. I knew how lame this sounded. Nor was it exactly true. But he let me off, and filed a normal accident report.
( Moral: It is possible, but risky, to meet contradictory obligations.)
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Another Walk
It is Saturday afternoon. We're walking along that section of the Linear Park between the St Peters Billabong and the University Footbridge. It is cloudy, hopeful. The trees are tall, or the path is low. Anyway, there's not too much sky.
The river is on our left. It is glossy dark brown and reflects a cliff. A white drain pipe runs down the cliff and disappears into the water, where it becomes a reflection of itself disappearing under the cliff in the opposite direction. A motionless scum floats on the surface of the water. Reeds collapsing at the edge. Orange flowers.
How are your new shoes? They hurt a bit. Do you have a bandaid? Yes, I do.
There is a smell of something. Ducks, the Zoo, sewage. Cyclists pass. Ibis, moorhen. Angry black swans.
Before we reach the Footbridge we drop something into a bin.
The river is on our left. It is glossy dark brown and reflects a cliff. A white drain pipe runs down the cliff and disappears into the water, where it becomes a reflection of itself disappearing under the cliff in the opposite direction. A motionless scum floats on the surface of the water. Reeds collapsing at the edge. Orange flowers.
How are your new shoes? They hurt a bit. Do you have a bandaid? Yes, I do.
There is a smell of something. Ducks, the Zoo, sewage. Cyclists pass. Ibis, moorhen. Angry black swans.
Before we reach the Footbridge we drop something into a bin.
At the Art Gallery Coffee Shop the sun comes out. And now we are in. The interior glass superimposes ladies eating coffee and cake over a series of Margaret Prestons. Still lifes. Patterned bowls of Australian flowers. The yellow leaves from the trees in front of the gabled Curator's Lodge drift across the conversation. She loves glass.
We walk back the same way. How is it? Alright now.
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