THE FITZ FILES
Illustration: Reg Lynch
Gooood morning, Afghanistannnnn!
Look, I can hardly believe it myself, but TFF writes from the Australian military base of Tarin Kowt. With the comedian Rash Ryder and the rising rock bands Van Hoorn and Kingswood we are about to put on a Christmas show that will hopefully entertain the troops. (And I mean that. I have made speeches to tough crowds before, but never one where everyone has weapons.) The past couple of days have been filled with fittings for flak jackets, weapons training, instructions as to what to do in case of an insurgent invasion, and then this morning we flew for four hours in the back of a huge C-130 military plane with heavily armed troops before landing here. The whole thing is surreal. The landscape is stark and, frankly, reminiscent of that famous scene in Apocalypse Now, with helicopters, planes and armoured vehicles as far as the eye can see, all busy as bees as, in this case, the Afghan mountains loom large over us. The most touching things are the memorials in each base, where those Australians who have died in this war are honoured. Each one is impeccably maintained and is a place of great reverence. As to the troops themselves, these men and women are seriously impressive, dedicated and courageous. As a travelling troupe of troubadours, we are being looked after like silkworms, are seriously well protected and will be gone within days. They rough it, risk it, and are mostly here for six-month tours of duty, including over Christmas, away from their families. As a civilian, I salute them, and it is a humbling honour to be here.
The PM's iron fist
In the meantime, Julia Gillard made a big impression on the troops when she visited last month. Not for any speeches she made. But they'll never forget how, when she got off the plane and was put straight into an armoured vehicle, an over-eager soldier - keen to ensure her complete safety inside the steel cocoon - slammed the door on her hand.
''She didn't even cry out,'' one soldier told me, ''even though she was lucky not to break any fingers and her hand swelled up like a balloon. She just got a quick bit of treatment, assured the shocked soldier she'd be OK and got on with it.''
A sick obsession
''Strange days indeed, most peculiar, Mama.'' And even more peculiar when the prospective mama in question is Willie Windsor's wife, Kate, who last week was rushed to a London hospital with severe morning sickness. By the coverage, it was clear that in the history of the world, no other woman has ever fallen pregnant, and she will no doubt give birth to a mystically marvellous baby. Talk about over the top!
And yet, if the conservative forces hold sway, Australia's future head of state is gestating in her tummy. At what point do we stop with this embarrassing nonsense?
Even John Howard conceded that one day Australia will be a republic.
Can anyone seriously argue that instead of every generation taking a baseball mitt to the highest nether regions of the English aristocracy and proclaiming, ''We've got us another future Australian head of state!'', it would be better - and a whole lot less humiliating - to embrace a mature system whereby an actual Australian becomes our head of state?
Speedos be gone
You will likely know of the author Nigel Marsh, who wrote Fat, Forty and Fired. Well, for a reason I can't yet fathom, he's organising a 900-metre community nude swim on February 17, called the Sydney Skinny, in the harbour from Middle Head. Oh stop panicking! You walk in wearing speedos, then disrobe in the water. Helpers will hand you sponsored sarongs when you finish. Details on thesydneyskinny.com.au. (Incidentally, while Fat, Forty and Fired is a brilliant book title, it still doesn't come close to my favourite, which is Elvis Is Dead, and I Don't Feel So Good Myself.)
Good old patience
You have to picture the scene. It is on Pennant Hills Road, Normanhurst, one set of traffic lights back from the F3 Expressway, on Tuesday afternoon last. Before the red light, in the thick traffic, the mood is tired and frustrated as everyone aches to get going, get on to the F3 and head for home. When will the bloody thing turn green? And, hang on, what is this?
An elderly man with a walking frame starts to cross the six lanes with exceedingly slow and painful steps, and is only halfway across when the traffic lights do indeed turn green. The mood instantly changes. This man is a representative of our parents' generation, when things were kinder, gentler, more chivalrous. What was that thing they told us about patience, again? ''Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can. Seldom in a woman, never in a man.'' On this occasion, however, everyone displays it, and as the old fellow continues to make his way across, there is not one toot heard, not one peep, out of anyone, and even on the near-side well away from him, not one car moves until he has safely reached the footpath on the far side.
Gotta love this city on a good day!
Joke of the week
A couple are Christmas shopping in a packed shopping centre, only for the wife to suddenly realise her husband has disappeared!
Calling him on his mobile, he answers and says in a calm voice: ''Honey, you remember the jewellery store we went into about five years ago where you fell in love with that diamond necklace that we could not afford and I told you that I would get it for you one day?''
The wife chokes up and says with a faltering voice, ''Yes, I remember.''
''I'm in the bar right next to it.''
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