Skip to main content

A newspaper is a device for making the ignorant more ignorant and the crazy crazier.


Someone has made a run for it at the traffic lights at the corner of Davey and Murray, but it appears that they didn't make it. I once saw a fellow walk straight into heavy traffic here one morning - we're talking the busiest and most dangerous it gets here in Hobart - and somehow miraculously avoid being squashed.

He did fit the profile of someone with comorbid mental health/alcohol and other drug affected (and believe me, I've had far more experience with that crowd that I'd care to relive), which would explain his not following my advice against wading into heavy traffic (and evading my grasp of his shoulder).

Which reminds me, I am often given pause for thought on why the socially isolated and [ostensibly] mentally unbalanced, are drawn to me when it comes to public transport. Now, you know the ones that I’m talking about, the flotsam and jetsam of our society. The people that ride the buses for somebody to talk to and because they have little else to do. Those individuals – dare I say it – that seem unbothered by the dubious achievement of having urinated and defecated in their pants earlier that day!

You know who I’m talking about. You won’t like to admit it, but you do.

What I want to know is, why do they always want to sit next to me? What makes me so special?

Now, I’m happy to have a chat, a nod and a smile at the state of the world, a quick “well, I’m not sure about that” when I’m told that there is a global conspiracy between a cabal of cannibalistic indigenous Australians and shady Zionist forces to read the minds of the unfortunate folk on the 4:45 Risdon Vale express, but I will admit that it gets rather tiresome when your only chance at penning a quick drabble is wasted on such drivel (did you see what I did there?).

A good heart can only get you so far you see, and remaining a nice guy ‘off the clock’ and amid the unholy stench of the unwashed and unwell.

Moreover, at what point is it acceptable to ask a fellow commuter if they have indeed soiled themselves?

If this is to awkward, when may be an appropriate time to point out that a number of seats are now free, and that it is indeed no longer necessary to sit crammed in next to me?

It is a tricky situation, to be sure.

Personally, I blame my dreamy brown eyes.

Comments

Colette Amelia said…
yes indeed and why do we stay instead of removing ourselves to the empty seat? politeness?
Kris McCracken said…
Colette, well the other day it was all about being jammed in against the window on the bus. I would have had to push past Mr Stinky!
stromsjo said…
Politeness and a bit of empathy is what keeps a society together. But yes, been there with all those same thoughts and even some worse.
kylie said…
this post is hilarious
Kris McCracken said…
Per, you are too right. Unfortunately, sometimes it seems that the "communal lubricant" that manners once played is becoming more scarce.

Public transport in that regard is an interesting microcosm of modern life.
Kris McCracken said…
Kylie, I am glad that my profound trauma has aided someone.
stromsjo said…
A microcosm indeed. I'll keep that thought in mind when I enter the subway today.
Kris McCracken said…
Per, I wish that we had a subway. Well, one that isn't about sandwiches anyway...
stromsjo said…
Ah yes, that subway. I must confess that there is a certain Roast Beef Parmesan on my agenda once in a while. Other than that, I also prefer the other subway...
Kris McCracken said…
Per, I like the Italian BMT myself.
KL said…
I don't know what you did, but i like the rhythm (a quick drabble is wasted on such drivels). A good way to get out of such situations is sit with an open notebook and a pen and keep on writing. And, when people talk, just make some noddings and grunts.

But then perhaps you should not avoid such situations. A great literature is often the by-product of a writer experiencing all the jetsams and flotsams of life.
Kris McCracken said…
KL, I spent a good few years stuck in situations where I heard enough unsavoury stories to last a lifetime!

Don't worry, I was being paid.
stromsjo said…
My mom likes the Italian BMT. Since I happen to know her general opinion on sausage, I wisely chose not to elaborate on what exactly what might be included in such a meal Biggest, Meatiest and Tastiest ...
Kris McCracken said…
Per, plenty of MEAT, that's all that one needs to know!
stromsjo said…
Or (in the case of sausage) that's all that one needs to believe! ;)
Kris McCracken said…
Sausages are too tasty to worry about what's in them!
stromsjo said…
Imagine having that authentic customer quote in an ad! ;)
Kris McCracken said…
Per, if any sausages companies want to use it, I'm open to offers!
stromsjo said…
They might want to rephrase it slightly. Then again, that'd be the standard deal. They create the quote and the customer testifies that the quote (as well as the customer himself) is authentic although they haven't actually met before. Quote and customer, that is.

Gee, I'm getting hungry. Wonder what the local pizza establishment would serve on a sunny Sunday.

Popular posts from this blog

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave.

Can you believe that it is time for Theme Thursday already? Today we are not talking chocolate , toddlers , mess or ignominy . No, today we're dealing with ANIMAL . Now I could have posted a picture of a possum, numbat, wombat, wallaby or any other furry killing machine that roams our fair isle, but I figure that I'd use a far more deadly creature as an example of an animal . Some people - I know them as fools - have chosen to embrace that highfalutin idea that human beans are for some ungodly reason superior to animals. Of course, what these imbeciles seem to forget is that were are simple animals ourselves ! Anyone with a baby, toddler, teenage boy or Queenslander in their household could tell you this. Look at Henry [above]. One chocolate frog in the back of the car on a sunny day and all of a sudden it's Elagabalus meets Bacchus for a quick shandy in the Serengeti and we're down on all fours carrying on like a cat in heat. Fair dinkum, anyone who chooses to ...