Mugged by Reality (again)

Posting has been light of late. There is a good reason.

Anyone who understands small business will know this reason.

Having social/family plans ruined by unforeseen/unexpected demands of the business is something that happens.

I've just now been able to come up for air.

The nose hit the grindstone just before Christmas.

How Short is Your Memory?

To leave a voicemail message press #1,
To hear this option again press #9

This corker of a voice menu is to be heard if you phone the Queensland Government's Office of State Revenue.

Traditional Solution

All is fine in the bar, things bubbling along nicely, a "middling" atmosphere. That is, a blue could break out, but unlikely to be anything more than one-on-one. Limited chances of an all-in, never mind of a riot.

Then one patron clouts another accross the head with a stubby. (a 375ml, or 13 fl oz, beer bottle)

Result: The clouted one has a nasty gash in his scalp. (Try doing this yourself, a stubby bottle is much harder to break on someone's head than the TV would have you believe.)

In this namby-pamby day and age that event is known in Queensland as a "glassing". A sick joke, perpetrated by our politicians & bureacrats, clearly they've never popped over to Glasgow and discovered for themselves what a "glassing" really is.

There is a lot of blood. Scalps bleed well, especially when the blood is thinned by alcohol.

Clouting this fellow accross the head may not have been the wisest move, as he is much bigger, and much more muscular.

However, the initiator, though a much smaller & more lithe fellow, is a manual labourer. Not a trade union softy from a building site, but a real worker, a deckhand for a fisherman. His muscles, though wiry & small, are hard as steel, and he looks as if he is no stranger to overcoming intense physical hardship.

He will be quite a lot harder to handle than a casual the white-collar uninitiate would imagine.

The big fellow, the victim, quickly forces the issue outside.

So they go at it in the middle of the street. It is a proper barney. It ends with the attacker vanquished, laying in the gutter, a bloodied & pulpy mess, unable to rise.

The victor strolls away. There is blood all over him, some of it his own, some of it not.

The ambulance arrives about here. They carry away the white fellow (the one who started it). The black fellow (the one who was "glassed") refuses ambulance attention & walks away. He'll certainly require a lot of stitches. It is not ever known what medical attention he seeks, if any. Indeed it is not known who he was.

Due to the mass of blood, and the black fellow refusing ambulance attention, nobody notices, remembers or declares that the fight started with a glassing.

It ends as it began, with people drinking in the bar. The white fellow is seen to have "asked for it", there is no sympathy. He'll certainly never look the same again.

This is a good outcome. Had the "G" word been used, Mine Host would have been the subject of an investigation, had a "strike" recorded against his licence, & against his managerial probity.

For in this age of nobody being responsible for their own actions, it is the publican who gets the blame if broken glass is used to hurt someone. It is very expensive for the publican if "glass" is used twice in one year.

You'd have always thought the blame belonged with the person who as an adult makes a conscious decision to break a glass & cut someone.

Stability

To clarify some confusion with the previous post:

Mine Host operates in the private sector of the economy (other sectors of the economy are the corporate and the public sectors). In the private sector a university degree is more or less irrelevant, as people are hired by ability & aptitude.

Typically Mine Host will make a hiring decision during the job interview. A typical job interview for a key appointment lasts Two to Three hours. Sometimes the interview (& corresponding inspection of the job by the applicant) may be spread over a couple of days.

Formal qualifications are a curiosity. Experience is crucial, background a factor, & compatibility with Mine Host & with the current makeup of the business are the deciding factors.

However due the the employment crisis in Australia (there just aren't any staff available) several roles are unfilled. When hiring Australians one is mostly scraping the bottom of the barrel. This leads to changes in the business model & also in recruiting strategy.

The employment laws in Australia are weighted so heavily in favour of the employee that some roles are more or less out of bounds to Australians, as it will be placing the business at too much risk of unjustfiable on-costs by putting bottom-feeders into some roles.

Some jobs require stability, & have to be filled for a minimum of three years to provide the required stability to the role.

There are Two roles in Mine Hosts's organisation that have not attracted an Australian applicant in several years.

Both of these roles are well paid senior positions that pay well & carry a lot of responsibility.

Hence Mine Host has turned to hiring from overseas. This does not necessarily bring competence to the role, but it does bring stability.

Higher Education

University degrees are supposed to mean something.

They are a distillation & condensation of other people's experience. Perhaps many lifetimes of experience, condensed into a few years of learning.

Thus a graduate with a degree is supposed to be already in possession of knowledge that would otherwise take perhaps a decade or two to learn the hard way.

Mine Host is somewhat forgiving of mistakes by the low-paid, particularly if they are his employees.

However he is ruthlessly demanding of those who are degree-qualified.

Especially those who hang out a shingle & charge multi-hundreds of dollars per hour for their expertise.
They are granted little latitude for error. Mine Host is remarkably unforgiving of mistakes made by degree qualified people.

Their degree is supposed to say they are bristling with knowledge & expertise in a certain field. They are supposed to be expert.

Socialist Outcome?

Hmm, judging from the barrage of email & a couple of comments, the previous post wasn't very clear in meaning.


One role in Mine Host's organisation that pretty much requires formal qualifications is that of accountant. An accountant was hired, with a degree from a certain university.

This turned out to be to date one of the bigger hiring mistakes of Mine Host's.

The damage done to Mine Host's image & reputation, not to mention the damage in the internal processes & accountancy software, was beyond parallel.

Mine Host has employed plenty of complete nitwits. However this one was without equal.

That this dud was packing a university degree was incomprehensible.

Mine Host does not accept that this person passed the examinations required to qualify as an accountant.

The blighter was too stupid to post a letter. Mine Host gave them a pile of urgent letters to post (mail is a sensitive area, and the accountant is one of the few people trusted to handle it). A week later the letters were still sitting between the keyboard & the monitor screen.

A bit got said about this, in response the degree qualified person looked up at Mine Host, smiled like an idiot & nodded like a marionette.

The letters remained on the desk a further two days. The idiot wasn't competent to post a letter and responded to most anything by nodding furiously & smiling idiotically.

It is not known who sat the university examinations in this person's place, or if perhaps the pass grade was lowered to accommodate the full-fee paying students. But this person cannot have demonstrated a standard of scholarship sufficient to satisfy the requirements of the accountancy profession.

For heaven't sake they were too stupid to post letters, or answer the phone, or even to place a phone call. They couldn't even be relied upon to place a lunch order.

It took months to fix up the mess. The cost in grey hairs, never mind dollars, was immense.

Yet a professor (Mine Host has this professor's name copied down diligently, in case they ever meet) has put their signature to a piece of parchment to say that this person has satisfied certain academic thresholds. When clearly no such achievement had occurred.

For heaven's sake, the coot couldn't even be depended upon to be able to write their name on a piece of paper.

Such was the scale of the discrepancy between the representation on the degree, & the reality, and such was the loss, inconvenience & damage to Mine Host, that he is now gun shy about hiring anyone with a degree from that university.

Universities have no excuse when they issue a degree under false pretences, the quality of the graduates is the quality of the university.

A quick phone around to a few other employers brought a series of stories that the quality of graduates from this university isn't what it used to be.

A phone call to a family acquaintance who marks papers for this university revealed that they were under pressure to "pass" students regardless of their scholarship standard, & the shame of this was the cause of this acquaintance's impending parting from this university.

Mine Host's money is too hard earned to risk it by dipping his toe in that pond again. "Graduates" of that university will have to look elsewhere for a job. (Or perhaps conceal their dud degree from employers.)

Disqualified from Employment

Due to bitter experience, Mine Host will never employ anyone with a degree from Deakin University.

It is Mine Host's considered opinion, based upon experience, that employing a Deakin University graduate is a gamble no employer can afford to take.

The Many Causes of Disease

The boss is quite ill.

This illness presents him with quite a dilemma: Should he lean over the porcelain throne? Or perch atop it & use it for the intended purpose?

The illness is quite horrid, none who see him would wish to be afflicted so.

The boss' throat is raw, his digestive system is bubbling as if it contained a witch's cauldron, his eyes are bloodshot from the continuous involuntary expunging of fluids & stomach contents. The boss has noticeably lost weight already, he will have lost quite a bit more before the illness has run its course.

Despite his outward exhibitions to the contrary, Mine Host has little sympathy for his subordinate.

For the illness is preventable, very preventable.

What was the cause of this illness? Lack of hygiene? Contact with a "carrier"? Bite from a microbe or mosquito or somesuch, that carried the bug?

No. The illness was actually very easy to prevent. Pretty much caused by failure to apply IQ to a given real-world scenario:

The boss had summoned the cook to the office for a "no-coffee" discussion, which culminated in him sacking the cook, subject to a notice period...
... then being as it was just about lunchtime, the boss instructed the cook to prepare him a hearty meal.

Age of the Internet

Computers arrived long before the internet.

In the mid-late 1990's computers were beginning to appear as playthings in households. A household having one was at this time something to remark upon, but not overly so.

By 1999-2000 it was possible to connect to the internet. However it was a plaything only. Very little could be done on the "internet" besides chatrooms, some personal emailing & reading bit of basic (american) news & suchforth.

The cost of each time you connected, all at the highest trunk call long-distance telephone charge, on a 14k connection, meant the internet was something one didn't connect to more than a couple of times each week.

Mine Host first used email (& thus the interet) for business purposes in 2004. In that year he sent 4 work emails. These were all to the accountant, & were sent purely for the novelty value. It would have been easier & cheaper to either phone or send a fax. It took upwards of 10 minutes to get to the point where an email could be sent. When surfing it could take several minutes load a webpage. Websites that were more than one page just weren't worth bothering with, as the time & money it took to navigate that website would far exceed any benefit.

Any email that had an attachement (containing graphics) would take between 20 & 45 minutes to send/receive. At long distance (trunk call) rates this was too expensive, and presented quite a problem if someone sent you one, as there was no choice but to receive it, if you cut the connection, you'd only have to recieve the attachment at another time.

Even the word "Draft" superimposed diagonally accross each page of a document would be a graphics file of sufficient size to choke the transmission.

Before the internet could become a work tool it had to first become both cheaper & faster than a telephone call.

That did not come to pass until 2005. In that year Mine Host sent several emails, but still they mostly were all to/from only his accountants & solicitors, however they were no longer for novelty value, but were fair dinkum business communications. (This is also the year Mine Host commenced blogging.)

In 2007 the question one asked (or was asked) changed from "Do you have an email address?" to "What is your email address?".

This was the moment when the internet had become a part of business life.

Shortly after this it became law that pubs must have an email address. Many pubs have forgotten this, and probably are unaware of which email address is registered to their name with the state government. Not that it matters, as the state govt has never yet used this email address database to send us all an email!

Also at about this time the major supplier of wine & spirits created an online order form, which a couple of years later was upgraded to fully integrated real-time online ordering. However, to this day the same supplier does not use email for communication with us. It is to this day all done with telephone calls to/from their travelling rep, or to their head office.

All government forms are now downloadable from the internet (we use plenty in the pub trade, I can rattle off the code number of more government forms than I care to mention).

Also we use the internet heavily for research. Now that most things are to be found on the internet that is.

However, for those who accuse Mine Host of being "behind" in his use of the internet, it must be pointed out that what happens in, & is provided to, the major metropolitan areas is not necessarily available in most of this great nation.

And, as a parting stinger to those who say I must use the net "more" for business, it must be pointed out that neither of the two major breweries are enabled for internet interaction with customers. We have to order by hand written order form, faxed in to them, or else place a verbal order over the telephone.

None of the minor suppliers have online ordering. All foodstuffs, cleaning & packaging products, & minor items are ordered by phone or fax.

To clarify: Of the more than One Hundred suppliers with whom Mine Host deals regularly, only One has online ordering facilities, and None use email to communicate with customers.

How can one possibly use the internet more for business, if those with whom one does business will not use it? (Many of them multi-national corporations - one being the world's largest liquor company).

We've struck a Bad'Un 'ere Sarge!

"What are you doing standing the pub doorway checking proof of age as people enter?" barks the 1st year female (& undersized) police officer.

"I'm pub staff, just doing my job" calmly replies the lad in the ironed white shirt & black trousers.

"If you're going to talk like that, I'll arrest you!"

(Oh Gee! I wish she'd say that to me! It'd make my day!)

Hmm......

Greenhorn police constables are the bane of a publican's life.

We show incredible tolerance to them, as they humiliate themselves pretending to be seasoned police officers, not realising their training wheels are comically obvious.

A female police constable has approached the front door of the Wayside Tavern. It is well before midnight. Belligerently she accused the lad at the door of allowing entry to "an obviously intoxicated person". The lad, an apprentice plumber in his day job, looks blankly at the young & diminutive police lady. He has no idea what she is talking about.

"He bounced off the walls of the shop, all the way down the street, he tried to smash the public phone box, you can't have missed him!" (This statement is contradicted by the video evidence from the Wayside Tavern's security cameras. Also the constable lady did not see the man on the street, but is relying on hearsay from a staff member at the next pub.)

"He's inside, but he isn't overly intoxicated, and he didn't attack the public phone box." says the lad. (A statement that is supported by the security camera footage).

This brings an arrogant tirade from the police officer. She roars that this man was "obviously drunk", that he had savagely attacked the phone box, & so forth. (Remember, she is basing this all on hearsay, thus she would be well advised to give equal weight to the word of my lad)

The officer lady, in deep enough already, spits forth some more unwise statements: That Wayside Tavern security staff are "always" absent their posts at critical times, that they are "useless", etc etc.

She cannot possibly have any idea if what she has said is true, as this is her first visit to the Wayside Tavern. We've never seen her before. She's been in town less than 2 weeks, and never before worked night shift.

The next belligerent question is why he is not wearing a "security badge"?

He replies that as he is not a security guard, he is not supposed to wear a security guard badge.

The greenhorn police constable lady then asks why he is there.

He replies that he is Wayside Tavern staff, that he is at work.

It is bad enough so far, but now she makes the statement with which this story began, that in the circumstances is a most unwise threat to make:

"If you're going to get smart, you'll be coming with us!"

(Being at work is not an offence for which one can be arrested.)

The Geisha or the Springbok?

The Australian beer industry has two main breweries:
One is Japanese, the other
South African.

The Japanese brew Queensland's most popular beer.

This brings new & interesting considerations into their marketing strategies. Eg, the exchange rate of the Japanese Yen to the Australian Dollar, the prevailing financial climate of Japan (tsunami, earthquake, etc), are perhaps more important than the ambient financial climate or market share in Australia.

When the brewery was New Zealand owned, the aforementioned were not considerations.

The shenanigans & quirks of beer buying are complex. Not everybody has the intellectual horsepower to cope with dealing for beer. It takes quite some years to learn & develop the skills. The breweries are experts, & greenhorn publicans, who have made a direct entry to the trade, are lambs to their slaughter. (As opposed to those publicans who have worked in the pub trade, been taught by skilled mentors, & know the ropes).

Any fool can fill in a brewery order form each week for the beer they want. Do this & you'll be uncompetitive, and if you're not already a small timer, you soon will be.

Filling in an order form each week is something you might get away with if your pub is bar trade only. Due to the comparitively low volume & high margin of bar sales, mistakes aren't as critical, nor are there the traps for new players.

In the modern era, breweries are notable for two things:
1/. Using unconscionable blackmail to pressure pubs to sell for low margins, and
2/. Not understanding the logistics & costs of long distance freight. (They think all pubs are located beside the brewery & make only a token - if any - allowance for freight costs or time delays)

This second point reached its nadir in the state of Victoria few years ago when (what is now the South Africans) ran a "brewery fresh" campaign, forcing pubs to hang a sign out the front informing how many days old the tapped kegs were. The South Africans are the only brewery in Victoria. Thus they felt empowered to pull a monopoly stunt like that. They'd never be game to try it in any other state. They'd be handing their market share to the Japanese on a plate.

How many days ago the keg was brewed? Who are they kidding? There is no sane reason for this, they are working purely on the street punters being ignorant of brewing. This must have got some of their bigger customers offside. It would have been nearly the ruination of some of their smaller clients.

I shudder to think how this would have worked in parts of the country where beer is delivered to pubs only eleven times per year!

Shotgun Wedding

The (heavily undersubscribed & outdated) Australian trade union movement has been bleating somewhat of late about how the workforce is "casualised" & how such workers do not "have certainty" etc.

I can relate to some of that. I don't have certainty. Tomorrow I may be out of business, forced onto the wallaby & having to hump bluey.

On boy, would some certainty be handy around here! But nobody is going to legislate to guarantee me a certain number of patrons each week. I am at the mercy of lots of variable factors. Many of them totally beyond my control.

Under unfair dismissal laws, the cost of removing unproductive/disruptive staff is so great that like many small business employers, I am loathe to hire. I hire no more than I need to, & have eliminated all of the peripheral & small jobs in my business.

This is purely because the less staff on the payroll, the less risk I face under the Fair Work Act.

It is that simple.

In the 1990's short term contracts & labour hire were expanding. Purely because employers were not prepared to expose themselves to the risks of hiring permanent staff. The Fair Work Act will see a return to those circumstances (alternatively your job moves overseas.)

Introduction of (say) a 6-month threshold after which casual/temporary staff will be entitled to a permenant position will lead to 5-month non-renewable contracts for the more marginal workers (NB: just about every job title lower than "executive").

Result: Less permanent jobs than before, and less certainty for most workers.

.... or just change the law so that firing staff is easier than divorcing a spouse.

It is that simple.

Central Control

Bushfire raging pretty much out of control. By now it has burned several hundred thousand acres, and has even rated a (passing) mention on the news.

Only a passing mention, because it is burning hundreds & hundreds of miles from both the capital city of the state, and the coast. It is not even burning within a hundred miles of the nearest town.

It would become a newsworthy bushfire if it met one of the following criteria:
(a) It started burning down the houses of people who are too silly to put in firebreaks & other precautions.
(b) It was a "bit closer" to civilisation so that journalists could cover the story, i.e. handy to commercial accommodation, telephones, etc.
(c) It was fought by uniformed "firefighters" who use a "procedures manual" & come equipped with a spokesman, office, press conferences, fire trucks with fancy paint jobs & flashing lights, etc.
(d) The firefighters were making lots of mistakes, perhaps even managing to burn a couple of "fire trucks" or even a firefighter or two.

Instead the fire was in country where the few inhabitants were wise to fires, and no buildings or civilian lives were so much as threatened, never mind burned.

The fire was being fought by locals, using equipment that was selected for functionality, not for the words "Fire Truck" stencilled on the side.

Those fighting the fire knew how the fire would respond to any given conditions & were not taking risks with their lives. Their command structure was as simple as deferring to the man whose judgement they most respected.

The fire was still burning, & was out of control, nobody was taking it lightly, but they felt that they'd be able to contain it without loss of life or property, & no more than a couple of thousand square miles burned to cinders.

This wasn't good enough for Central Fire Control in the state capital city. They issued command after command, which those on the scene had the good sense to ignore.

Boiling with indignation at being ignored by a bunch of hicks, an expert from Central Fire Control rushed to the scene to take command of the situation. (Well, it took a day for him to arrive.)

Upon arrival the expert displayed an official letter or some sort of trump card that established he was now "in command" of this fire & had the full force of the law behind him.

His first act as Commander was a display of incompetence, hubris, & inexperience. He set out to "inspect" the fire (several hundred thousand acres & still burning, in rough impassable country)

The first thing he did on his "inspection" run was to promptly burn himself to death.

Within an hour of arriving on the scene.

The attention of Central Fire Control was now occupied with the "sad loss" of one of their own, they paid no more attention to the fire, or how it was fought, or anything.

Thus, idiotic diversion nipped in the bud, everybody promptly went back to fighting the fire.

Without any loss of life or property.

Unjustified

Nothing like a fresh new accent (& attitude) around the place.

New bar attendant is fresh from the UK. One of the parts of it that did not have recent riots.

However she states authoritatively that the riots were "justified".

Layabouts smashing their way into shops & looting the contents. Shops built & owned by hardworking individuals, who eke out a living, putting in 12 - 15 hour days, year on end, only to have it smashed & looted by layabouts.

Justified? Never.

What would have been justified was the shopkeepers using shotguns to kill anyone who tried to smash into their shop.

Contractors Terminate Contract

Two security guards, employees of the company that contracts to the Wayside Tavern, walk into the offices of the Liquor Licencing Inspector.

They are there to report their (indirect) employer, the Wayside Tavern.

They report that the Wayside Tavern is routinely packed with "too many" patrons, that the "legal ratio of patrons to security guards is often exceeded (there is no such ratio, legal or otherwise).

The really good part: They state that they are "scared" to go to work, as there are "lots of fights" inside the venue.

The Liquor Licencing Inspector draws back, asks them if their job description really is "Security Guard"? Then advises them to "give the game away" if they are actually scared at having to handle the odd scuffle here & there.

He then pointed out that if they are unable to handle their job, or are unhappy with it, that they should be taking it up with their boss (the head of the security company) rather than with Liquor Licencing.

His actually prefaced his sermon to them with the phrase "How about you fellers grow a pair....?"

Of course these guards & their firm are now former contractors. The Licencing Inspector telephoned to inform of the actions not only of the security guards, but of their boss, who had phoned the same Licencing Inspector to make the same complaint.

On the basis of this phone call, the security company's contract was terminated the same day.

And She acts Surprised when it turns out this way?

Let me get this straight:

The state government oversees/encourages a massive blowout in the size of the Qld Health bureacracy.

However, writing letters & filling in more forms & holding more "management conferences" is not what makes a sick person well again.

That is done by doctors & nurses.

Now, without a trace of irony, the state Premier, who has caused the exponential increase in health bureacracy, says that the bureacracy will have to be curtailed, as it is "a bureacracy out of control" and that it is oversized.

Gee, wonder whose fault that is?

Scientific Methodology

"This is a Dangerous Situation, Shut the Pub Immediately!"

Friday night late (or Saturday morning early if you like, as it was half an hour after midnight.)

The two police officers, walking the beat, presented at the front door of the Wayside Tavern.

The Constables hold a brief conversation with the doorman. As a result of this conversation one of the Police Officers then says there are "too many" people in the pub, orders the doors to be closed and no more people are to be admitted to the premises.

The head of security proceeds poste haste to the pub office. The office, containing the control room, is manned by a senior staff member whenever the pub is trading.

The orders from the office are for the pub's doors to reopen immediately, and to not close again under any circumstances, regardless of the braying of any low IQ cop.

This incenses the two police, who purposefully march to the office, exhibiting a very matter of fact manner........

This'll be brief. And it was:

The police engage in a terse rant about how there are "more than 400 people" inside the pub, and that this is "too many".

Question one: You coppers didn't count heads, as you've been to the front door only, so how do you know how many people are inside?
Official Police Answer: The doorman's scanner has registered 420 persons scanned in.

Question two: Hmm... 420 scans tonight, how many of those have since left the premises?
Official Police Answer: ".............."

Question three: Regarding those 420 scans, how many of them are double or triple scans? (Qld driver's licences are notoriously difficult to scan, we regularly have to scan twice)
Official Police Answer: "............."

Question four: Here's a copy of the Liquor Act ("grunt" as I lift it for them, "thud" as it lands on the desk) Please point to the part which legislates that a pub cannot have 420 people inside?
Official Police Answer: "............"

........so endeth the conversation with police. They turn on their heel and depart the premises. We dont' see any police officer again that night.

If a publican who ran away from high school coz it shore had too much books 'n' hard stuff like that, can make such mincemeat of two fully trained & sworn in Queensand Police officers (with degrees), it is no wonder they are continually made fools of in courtrooms!

Dancing in the Street

A very quiet Saturday night. They happen sometimes.

There is a three-piece band playing, $2000 fee and nobody to hear it. A handful may drift in later on. The night won't cover bar wages. Never mind the band fee.

The band leader asks do they really have to persist with this charade?

......Only if they want to collect the fee.

He absorbs this, isn't happy, but grudgingly will keep playing.

Their music is on the "heavy" side of "pub rock". Probably a bit too heavy for this town, it'd only work if the pub was already crowded.

The two guitarists are wearing transmitter packs, to avoid being tangled in wires. These packs are on their back, transmitting to the amplifiers. This means they don't have to stand on the one spot.

So: In joker mode, being as they've argued with me about continuing to play, and there are no customers, they walk all around the bar all the while playing, the sound continues to blare from the stage.

This takes some getting used to, as all one's conditioning is that music eminates from the point where it is played. One's trained instincts are suddenly wrong, this is difficult to cope with.

Being a Saturday night the street is deviod of traffic. There is barely a car going down the street every half hour or so.

I suggest we move into the street, for a change of scenery.

The drummer has to remain at his post, but the guitarists, the barmaid & I move accross the street to the median strip.

The band keeps playing, which is quite surreal. There is only a slight plinking noise from the guitars in the street, and the music continues to blare from the amplifiers in the pub.

All four of us dance (well, shake a little) to the music, then drift back inside.

Several more times over the next few hours we repeat the exercise. The guitarists find it great fun, & stand in a lane of traffic each & play, like wild men of rock or something!

(There is no traffic, being a Saturday night)

Fire in the Shrubbery!

Off the top of my head I can't recall what this drink is called, but there was strong demand for them in the first half of the year.

They are a favourite of mine. Whatever they are.

It tastes every bit as classy as it looks!

Shut Up & Watch

The police station receives a report of a pretty fair brawl in progress, on a sheep station.

The report is received just on dark. By the time someone gets there it will be well & truly night. An officer is dispatched to attend the scene and investigate the possible disturbance.

It is 60 miles to the sheep station. All of it on unsealed roads.

Upon arrival the officer observes what appears to be a large scale brawl still in progress, there are upward of 80 people involved. It is also brutally violent.

Two men detach themselves from the melee and approach the police vehicle.

The policeman is wondering what to do. He is heavily outnumbered, the brawlers are all shearers, New Zealand Maori shearers. Clearly they are sorting something out amongst themselves.

["What idiot called the police?"] thinks the officer, with malice.

The two Maori who have detached from the blue boldly stride directly up to the officer, pick him up bodily & sit him on the bonnet of the police 4wd. One removes the officer's pistol from its holster & tosses it onto the front seat of the police vehicle.

The officer is petrified.

In a heavy NZ accent one of his minders advises the policeman to sit where he is, not move, do not intervene, do not attempt to use the police radio, and when it is all over he will be allowed to leave unharmed.

The minders then lean back on the police 4wd, one either side of him, fold their arms & do not move. They don't look at the officer again.

When the police officer arrives back in town in the early hours of the morning, he reports that at the scene were in excess of 80 persons, males & females who appeared to be New Zealand citizens, all of whom refused to talk to police, no obvious signs of a riot & nobody who had seen anything. There may have been an incident, but with 80 people saying they had no idea what he was talking about, his investigation inevitably came up no trumps.

He tells his comrades what actually happened. Nobody says a word. But for the grace of god it could have been any one of them...

... tomorrow, or next week, it could be.