Friday, February 12, 2010

The Canberry Juice

In aboriginal, Canberra means "meeting place". Obviously, those participating in this meeting had their GPS go SkyNet on their ass halfway there, because this rendezvous point lacked a certain element.

A human element to be exact.

On arrival, it was quieter than a monastery. An amigo said 'gee, this place has a country-town-vibe'. I said 'yes, if that country town's doomsday siren had just blared'.

Being harsh? Well, yes.

You see this was merely Sunday evening and by the end of my week's stay, our fair capital, the vacuum to the dust on the carpet that is our hard earned income, had picked itself up off the mat, proceeded to roll up it's sleeves and reveal itself to be tattooed with several night spots I'd be happy to have airlifted back to Melbourne.

What's that? Do I have a preferred drop-zone for the nominated night-spots? But of-course....

Brunswick Street. On top of vegetarian places that consider Tofu to be something more than glorified rubber.

Given Brunswick Street is Melbourne's hub for the black skivvy/hemp dress/bike-riding-because-it-saves-Penguins/I-have-a-reusable-green-bag-so-I-am-morally-superior-to-all-others brigade, I may need reinforcements for my bombing plans.

Onto things slightly less militant, I went to the High Court. Some crazy foos had sued me because they alleged the rights to my idea for carbonating soda, adding poop-coloured food dye, then marketing it as a refreshing soft-drink, and novels about a bunch of young, shimmering and clearly gay vampires and werewolves, were already owned by some randoms.

At least my novels ended better:

Interestingly, the brochure (the one from the tour I went on in case you hadn't taken a stab at one of the more likely reasons I was at the High Court) had written down that former Chief Justice Anthony F. Mason served from 1792 to 1987. I am told it was Tony "the mace" Mason's 195 years on the bench that triggered the ultimately successful movement to have judges retire at 70 in Australia.

They knew changes needed to be made when the Pre-Hearing Thaw (PHT) became a standard operating procedure.

I'd like to tell more, but the rest was all suit, tie and work.

Well, I say tie. I sure did pack one at least. Can't argue with that.

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