Published The Advocate, March 4, 2006


AT BURNIE Airport, I was watching two mature women, wearing hiking boots and parkas, reading The Advocate, bless them, while their husbands put their baggage through the check-in. Out of the blue, one of the hubbies called out: 'Sick of walking; sick of ferns!' There you go – the whole Tasmanian trekking experience summarised in one throwaway line. What did he expect? There is no pleasing some people. At my mother’s place in Geelong later the same day, I was reading a story in her local paper about the owner of a photo shop who was put in a 12 month good behaviour bond for assaulting an elderly customer. The customer had complained that his photos had been printed out of focus. Since film processing now is automatic, we can safely assume if the photos were out of focus, the fault was in the hands of the photographer, not the processor. The owner said as much. The grumpy old man said he wasn’t paying. The owner cracked. He flicked the photos across the floor and when the customer bent over to pick them up, the owner whacked him over the head. And then whacked him again for good measure. The owner, in his early 50s, had no prior convictions. His lawyer said he realised now he could not cope with difficult customers and had sold the photo shop. There really is no excuse for whacking anyone but, boy, you can easily sympathise with the owner’s frustration. Basil Fawlty would understand anyway. I read out the story to my mother while she was cooking tea, expecting her to agree the shop owner had a reasonable defence on the grounds of provocation. She thought no such thing. She said service standards nowadays were appalling everywhere and, not for the first time that evening, harped on about her little Peugeot. The car had a rattle. She took it to the garage where she always took it, expecting immediate service and the usual cup of tea. The garage had since changed hands. There was no cup of tea and mum was told to make a service booking, like everyone else. Also, the computer had crashed and her service record had disappeared. She was ropeable. The previous owner had sold the business because he was dying of cancer but she still intended to ring his home and give him a piece of her mind. Sigh. Yet, on the same day as the car tizz, a computer glitch at her doctor’s surgery meant she could not obtain a prescription for blood pressure tablets, which she needs. That was different, she said. Before I left Geelong, I was walking past a café and on a chalkboard out front was the message: 'Do not let yesterday use up too much of today.' I liked that and had a coffee there instead of in the café next door. I have returned to work with an idea that my job is a rare treat, which attracts only goodwill and understanding. Try not to spoil it.