Friday, May 12, 2006

goose out

While on a coffee break at the office, listened to a 1944 episode of the radio show Suspense - "Fugue in C Minor" by Lucille Fletcher (who also wrote "Sorry Wrong Number"). Ida Lupino is engaged to Vincent Price, a man who has built his house around his giant pipe organ. Price seems nice enough, but his two children are convinced the organ is haunted by the ghost of their mother.

If only that was all that it was...

Nice spooky stuff. I've been downloading a host of these Suspense shows from one of the radio fan websites; the trouble is that I'm scared to listen to them after dark, so I'm a bit behind with actually hearing them.

Those miners have successfully been rescued from the bottom of the Tasmanian gold mine after 11 days. A happy ending for the men and their families.

Speaking of radio, I was musing how much of a radio event it was for my family. Others may have gleaned all the latest details from the television or the newspapers, but to me it was wireless all the way.

The first intimation that two of the miners were still alive came on Sunday night last week. The Coodabeen Champions comedy/chat show was on ABC radio and just before the 8 o'clock news they crossed to the Tasmanian newsroom for an update. It was a stirring moment.

Then for the rest of the week Tim Cox did his weekday morning show not from the Hobart studio but from the first aid room at the mine. This can't have been easy, but he did a great job. In the evenings, Tony Delroy's Nightlife show included a live cross to the mine every night around 1 a.m.

And when I woke up this morning, the first thing I heard was the good news coming over the clock radio.

God bless all who worked so hard to make this day happen.

Waterfowl belong outside. I don't want to wake up and find a goose sitting on the end of my bed.

That's the sort of thing that was going through my head when the backdoor jammed in the open position last week. Not only was it going to be cold during the winter but it was going to be difficult keeping the poultry out of the house.

Fortunately my sister Julie is more mechanically minded than I am – she got out the hammer and the drill and soon had it back in order again. Thank goodness for that.

Julie was off to a lunch the other day. I dropped her at Salamanca Place then went into the central city block to pay some bills, fill some prescriptions and pick up the magazines.

I had lunch at Euro in the mall, reading the Melbourne paper and doing some people-watching. It was interesting to see the sort of folk who drifted in and out after the lunch-time crowd had gone.

There were two or three students at the side table, exchanging comments about life and art on a fairly high level. By the front there was a couple, apparently tourists, who looked a little vexed about something and hurried off after their meal.

One guy came in and started giving (at length) his opinions about the sign on the front window. He discussed it in exquisite detail and just went on and on. If I'd been behind the counter, I would have told him to put a sock in it or clear off, but the staff must have been used to him.

He finally left but my relief was short-lived. Within five minutes he was back. He'd decided he'd have a coffee, but first he wanted to discuss in detail exactly what each sort of coffee consisted of....

It's a long time since I was in the retail business. Obviously I've lost the carefully-cultivated shield of patience that lets you put up with people like him.

7% of people in Australia have it. Type 2 Diabetes is a virtual epidemic among people with poor life style and obesity.

"It's easy to do things. It's not easy to think what to do." Jamie in Mythbusters


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