Long Lunch

I had lunch yesterday with the bloke who was my platoon commander for six months in South Vietnam in 1970. I hadn’t seen him for thirty eight years, but this was not a problem.

Driving home, I wondered why it took me so long to look him up – he’s lived fairly close for a while. Inertia is the best rationale, but it is a poor excuse. The fellowship of old soldiers is unique and valuable, and it should be fostered. We should also support each other – not that this bloke needs it – he’s had a very successful life post Vietnam.

The other great part of this exercise was the opportunity to drive my new toy a couple of hundred kilometres over interesting roads between Toowoomba and the Scenic Rim.

All in all, a very pleasant day.

Minimum Wages

The following letter was published hed in today’s Oz –

Some lateral thinking on minimum wages.

May I suggest setting the minimum wage as a fixed fraction of the total salaries of the wealthiest? The formula could be very simple. For example the minimum wage could be set at 5 per cent of the average remuneration of the top 1 per cent of all earners. In that way, every time a CEO manages to screw a few more million out of his board, everyone else will have to be paid a small increase. This will cause restraint at the top end and fairness at the bottom, and save much legal argument.

J. Whitehead, Chapel Hill, Qld

This is one of the most common-sensed proposals I’ve seen in a month of Sundays. I wonder how the captains of industry would deal with it.

I've got a pretty fair idea.

Transition Object

I drove 25km to buy the paper this morning. 

This had something to do with the fact that I now own a Mazda MX5 roadster. For years (since I was 17) I’ve wanted a sports car. Arguably, this is as close as I’ll ever get.

I reckon that at the rate my investments are being diminished by the crazy stock market, and the progress of arthritis and advancing senility, I have limited time to realise the dream.

This car was too good to miss. It has 34000 on the clock, was owned by a young married woman who drove it to work, and garaged it nightly. It has all the boring reliability of a modern Japanese car, but is a blast to drive.

This morning I drove down the mountain with the top down to buy the paper. Driving this thing gives a whole new meaning to sensory overload. It’s amazing how much more aware of your surroundings you become without a metal and glass cover over your head.

There is a downside. Cattle crates don’t mix well with open topped vehicles.

“Transition Object?”- This thing will assist in a smooth transition to old age.

Best of all, my children have automatic licenses only, so no more “Can I have the car please, Dad?” 

A six speed gearbox hopefully will be too much of a challenge.

Reconciliation and Aspirations

Bob Hawke writes in today’s Oz on the 25th anniversary of his first election victory –

Bob Hawke says national reconciliation is a great asset for Kevin Rudd and that Australians are sick of polarization and confrontation, just as they were in 1983.
"I think the nation was tired of the confrontation that characterised the Howard government," Hawke says in his Sydney office.
"People were sick of that. I think Rudd has tapped into a vein and I think he is genuinely committed to it."

Irrespective of whether you believe Rudd is genuine in his appeal to reconciliation rather than confrontation, in the short term at least, it has been a more productive strategy. It harnesses hope and compassion rather than fear and materialism, and seems no less effective.

From a personal perspective, I’ve learned that reconciliation is difficult (and sometimes risky), but worthwhile in the long run. I’ve never understood the appeal that fear and loathing hold for some conservative commentators.

The pursuit of possessions and status carries with it a risk of alienation. Rather than fighting like cornered cats to hold what they’ve accumulated, the so-called aspirational middle class is as likely to downshift to attempt to escape to a time and place where relationships and self-actualization are possible.

Across the Pacific, Obama has tapped into the same rich vein.

Workchoices in Hindsight

During the week, the coalition (through Julie Bishop’s gritted teeth) finally buried Workchoices.

There are no surprises attached to this, but other aspects of the Workchoices phenomenon remain surprising. It continues to amaze me how the hard heads in the Liberal Party managed to deceive themselves about the extent to which the legislation was on the nose to most Australians.

No matter what the life situation of the voter, it was always going to have a negative impact. For those in work, there was always the concern that they would be disadvantaged by an AWA. For those who were retired, but had children in their first jobs, there was always the suspicion that these same children were going to be taken advantage of – not something that most parents are prepared to risk.
It came home to me when my son, in his first job wanted to negotiate overtime with his employer. He phoned the helpline number provided on the Workchoices documents given to him when he got the job, and was promptly told that he should join a Union!

How the Coalition could have ever believed that ordinary Australians would swallow a notion that they would be better off by standing alone in negotiations with their employers beggars belief.

It’s worth recalling this report on News.com.au by Tim Dunlop (August 03, 2007) which shows what the government’s own research was saying at the time –

http://blogs.news.com.au/news/blogocracy/index.php/news/comments/people_dont_like_workchoices

The combination of ideology and power must have blinded them completely.

A Parasitic Industry

During the last month, I’ve been helping two of my offspring find accommodation in Brisbane so that they can study there. This has brought me into contact with the Real Estate industry.

It’s not the first time, of course. At last count, my wife and I have lived in nine different homes since we were married. Of these, four were rented, and five purchased. This is a product of a series of appointments in schools and regional offices all over Queensland.

The one common thread through these two groups of experiences has been the absolutely hopeless level of service offered by the real estate agents encountered.

In the case of my recent experience, one of my kids is officially squatting in the students’ digs he has applied for simply because the agent concerned hasn’t gotten around to getting the assorted documents together for the property owner to sign. This agent has been sitting on them for three weeks. Independently, my son and I have been nagging over the phone. The interesting thing about this is that the excuses given to him vary a great deal from those given to me.

Also interesting is that when I asked to speak to the manager to make a complaint, I was told that they did not allow clients to do so, and the receptionist then hung up in my ear.

The upside is that he’s staying rent-free in the short term, as is one of the other students in the house who is in the same predicament. I wonder how the owner would feel if he knew?

In the case of my daughter, much the same occurred, but she’s now signed up after a delay of two weeks. What we have discovered with this (different) agent is that absolutely nothing she says can be believed. “Today” means any time during the next week, “Your room can be locked”, means that there are keys somewhere, but no-one has any idea where, and “there are only girls on that level” means that all the other boarders with the exception of one are male. The straw that broke the camels back was when I asked her for directions to her office so my daughter could sign the lease, I was told - “Sorry, I’m new to Brisbane, and have no idea”.

This from a person who earns a living selling and renting a property in the river city!

My memory of earlier experiences is no better. Buying and selling is like dealing with Piranhas, and renting is a minefield.

In Townsville back in the eighties, we rented a home to live in prior to buying. When it came time to leave, my wife and I farmed off our two infant kids to relatives, and spent two full days cleaning the house before the agent’s inspection. By the time we’d finished, it gleamed, and was a damn sight cleaner than when we moved in.

Imagine my surprise when a cleaning fee was deducted from our bond. I personally fronted the agent asking for an explanation. I was told by the receptionist that there was dust on the upper side of one of the ceiling fans in one of the bedrooms.

Being unconvinced by this, I insisted in seeing the manager. I was then confronted by two large and swarthy individuals who told me in no uncertain terms that I had better leave if I wanted all my limbs to remain intact.

At that time, with wife and children in tow, it wasn’t advisable to make an issue of it. When I made a formal complaint to the REIQ, I was told that this was common practice on the part of this agent, and there was nothing they could do, despite the REIQ accreditation.

As far as I know this agent is still renting property in Townsville.

My brother has made a great deal of money buying and selling property, but won’t use agents, referring to them as “snakes”. He’s not far off the mark.

In the end, it’s a parasitic unnecessary industry.

When I lived in Mount Isa, my family was in public service accommodation. There were literally hundreds of teachers and their families in this situation, and the whole shooting match was managed part-time by an administrative assistant who had many other tasks. Any grievances went to the accommodation committee. In my five years there, there were never more than one or two grievances heard by the committee. It puts the lie to the assertion that private industry manages more efficiently.

Diehard

Watching Wilson Tuckey foaming at the mouth over the apology to the stolen generations reminded me of the sorry (excuse the pun) record of this excuse for a parliamentarian.

He has been described in the past by his colleagues - including the ex-Prime Minister - as a a "fool" and "an embarrassment to his colleagues".

But Wilson Tuckey still became a federal minister in the Howard government.

His behaviour is not surprising given that he used to believe that belting someone with a piece of 100 amp cable is OK. For this action in 1967 he was convicted of assault. The fact that this person was aboriginal and was being held down at the time is revealing in the context of Wednesday's interview.

His recent form is interesting. In 2003 he tried to get his son off a traffic fine by heavying the South Australian Police Minister, Patrick Conlon, and then lying to parliament about it on more than one occasion.

He also defended James Hardie – the building products company which was embroiled in controversy over its failure to make proper reparations to pay compensation to victims of its asbestos products.

And despite the fact that he routinely sledges the National Party, it’s a fact that he ran as a Nationals candidate in the 1974 state election for the seat of Gascoyne.

Tuckey uses smear and intimidation as a matter of course, and is an exponent of the politics of hate and fear.

At least he's on the opposition benches, so his capacity to wield power is diminished.