Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Soft and Strong
Friday, June 11, 2010
Shopping centre tragedy
Monday, June 7, 2010
Red tape
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Supermarket Guilt
In Australia, as in England, I have always found supermarket shopping to be an exhausting and mind-numbing experience, invariably due to the multitude of choice and the ethics of shopping to which one is supposed to subscribe, which do not change from London to Sydney. This indecisive maze I find myself in usually begins in the fruit and vegetable section – an area particularly fraught with moral dilemmas. For a start, I know I shouldn’t even be there. I should be waiting serenely at home for my box of organic, crunchy fruit and crooked, earthy vegetables - picked that morning by an apple-cheeked farmer in Kangaroo Valley and delivered by horse-drawn cart (or white van) to my door. But as usual I’ve not got around to setting this up online and the supermarket’s four-day old lacklustre fare will have to suffice. Though at least in Australia they have a large selection of exotics such as dragon fruit, which adds a temporary frisson to the experience.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Playground Politics
Playgrounds are always playgrounds - and no matter where you are in the world, the politics that prevail are always the same. Living in London meant queuing for the swings, demand always being greater than supply. In true British fashion we stood patiently waiting our turn, trying not to look annoyed when one parent pushed a little longer than was politely acceptable, and shushing impatient children desperate for their turn. This sense of order was rudely disrupted for me one day when, next in the queue and waiting my turn, a child (heaven forbid) shot out of nowhere and grabbed the next available swing before me. I looked round for the parent, expecting them to appear and perform the smiling-through-clenched-teeth "You must wait your turn darling" ritual, but no one came. I was thus faced with the dilemma of ousting the child (not a popular choice, given the determination with which he bore down on the swing) or waiting another ten minutes with my son wriggling in my arms. In the end, swing etiquette prevailed and I deferred to the queue-jumper.
In Australia, as everywhere, mothers and fathers are particularly keen to demonstrate their honed parenting skills and an aptitude for peacekeeping more suited to a United Nations summit. As soon as one child grabs another’s toy, both mothers descend on the warring parties, determined that each should benefit from a moral lesson on the issue of sharing and taking by force what is not one’s own. However, the social and emotional development of a toddler is not advanced enough yet to grasp the concept – which is why they all go round the playground in a state of autonomy, blissfully unaware of any underlying protocol, while their mothers hover like wasps, ready to pounce at the first sign of social injustice.
Rather like the United Nations, come to think of it. Third world government ruled by despotic madman, totally unaware of any democratic imbalance, first world country hovers to see how the situation affects its own and then dives in, moral guns blazing. One would hope that said despotic madman would have enough cognitive awareness by now of right and wrong but history points to the contrary. When it comes down to it, we are all living in one vast global playground.