Tuesday 29 July 2008

Reflecting on Change


During the last few weeks, a couple of incidents have occurred that have reminded me of how much the world has changed since I was the age that my children are now.

The first involved my daughter who lives in student accommodation in Brisbane. This is a multi-storied block which is equipped with automatic fire alarms sensitive to the slightest amount of smoke. On the face of it, I should be happy about this. The downside is that if the alarm is triggered, automated systems take over, and the firies arrive poste-haste armed with low-tech gear (axes) and high-tech gear (walkie-talkies) irrespective of whether there is a dangerous fire or not.

This ensures safety, but the downside is the cost of a false alarm. Would you believe $941?

Last Monday night, my daughter was cooking up a stir-fry, and the (cheap) pan she was using began to smoke. She did all the right things – opened the windows and turned on the fan – but the alarm went off and the firies came. It will take quite a while to pay off the $941 call-out fee from her Youth Allowance.

Forty years ago, I set my bed on fire. I was using a highly flammable polyester bedcover I’d brought back from Vietnam, and had carelessly left an inbuilt bedside lamp on which overheated. I walked into my bedroom to be confronted by a bed well alight. My car had a fire extinguisher, so I retrieved it and put the fire out quickly, but a neighbour had seen the smoke and called the fire brigade. They arrived, inspected the damage, and left me with a brief lecture – no invoice.

On Tuesday, I had to visit a primary school in the South-West as part of my part-time Advisory work. I arrived at the school bright and early so I could plan my classroom visits with teachers before things got too busy. As soon as I walked in through the gate, I was met by a curly-headed Preschooler who ran up to me with her hands outstretched shouting “cuddle!”

I immediately stepped out of my granddad persona into my teacher role, and extended my hand to convert the cuddle to a more socially acceptable handshake saying “You don’t cuddle people you don’t know – but it’s OK to shake hands with somebody you meet at school.” I also showed her my visitor’s badge and reminded her that if she saw someone at school she didn’t know without such a badge she should tell a teacher.

Forty years ago I would have simply returned the cuddle.

The significance in these seemingly unconnected events is clear. We live in a world where rationality and risk management reign supreme. Innocence and spontaneity are as rare as hen’s teeth, and if you make a mistake – you pay.

I’m not entirely sure that this is an improvement.

The One Day of the Year

At the cenotaph 25.04.24 It took me fifteen years after returning from Vietnam before I marched on Anzac Day. There were all manner of reaso...