As good as a play by Trevor Plumbly
They bore him barefaced on the bier Let’s not get overdosed with regret over the departure of Aussie PM Scott Morrison; these people come and go, it’s the nature of the beast. We’re taught from infancy that forgiveness is a virtue but when it comes to the odd politician I wonder if that concept might need a re-think. Lots of countries draw a wild card from time to time: Thatcher, Muldoon, Johnson and so on. It seems to me that after a period of relative stability, the punters get lulled into comfort… Read More
A fistful of dollars by Trevor Plumbly
Flashing it It seems to me that money and discretion don’t accompany each other so much of late. Maybe Mother was right when she said, ‘A fool and his money are soon parted.’ But these days it seems some manage to hang on to the stuff and rub our noses in it at the same time. Do you know there’s a few squillionaires willing to pay 60 odd million dollars each for the dubious pleasure of floating round in space for a couple of days? What on earth’s wrong with these people?… Read More
On the fall of the hammer! By Trevor Plumbly
Impressionists I hate to use ‘the old days’ cliché, but back then there was a drama about auctions that sadly looks like getting throttled by the Internet. I ran an auction house for many years and whether the offering was estate clearance or fine art, the faithful turned up, nursing visions of a starring role and the dream of a bargain, but most blissfully unaware of the predictability of the process. For the auctioneer, most of the punters were readable, from the dealer’s air of bored indifference to the novice’s fidgety excitement…. Read More
The autumn of discontent by Trevor Plumbly
Fatigue, vertigo and water torture Despite practically hibernating and trying hard not to inhale outdoors, I’ve somehow managed to catch the bloody thing and I’m scribbling this between bouts of horizontal stupor. In Britain, when the monarch was ill, they used to post daily health reports by the palace gates but they don’t advertise infirmity down here and I’m trying to adopt the ‘suck it up’ culture. However, this one’s a toughie for me, with total exhaustion and brain fade, interrupted by occasional bursts of mental flatulence. As with most infectious ailments,… Read More
Lording it by Trevor Plumbly
Golden days According to the romantic poets, knights of old were an honourable bunch. Life was simpler then: apart from the odd local skirmish, there wasn’t much to distract them from high minded ideals. Achieving aristocratic status was relatively simple: once you fought for the prevailing cause, the king tapped you on the shoulder, said ‘arise Sir Knight’, gave you a chunk of land and you and yours were set forever. It was the medieval equivalent of a window of opportunity if you could scrap a bit and had a few bob…. Read More
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