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Before the War

June 25th 2010 09:34

Which war? Why WW2, of course. As time continues to take away my ability to rush madly from one adventure to the next, I think back to what was, think about what is, and wonder what the hell will come next. I am old enough to remember the time when the Great Depression held sway. Of course, I was but a child and therefore, what would I know of the world at large? Probably very little, because the world at large played no part that I could see in my day to day life.
Compared to today’s families we had nothing; no TV, no washing machine, no refrigerator, no air conditioner, no car and of course, no computers. We did not need them, we had something far more valuable, something which money has never been able to buy: Freedom. We were free to live, love, laugh and be happy. Mostly, we were. We did not care about what we didn’t have, what had not yet been invented, nor what the people on the other side of the world had and we didn’t. We were free.
We went where we felt like going, we made our own fun with whatever was available to us, and we accepted the consequences of our own actions with as much good grace as we could muster. Yet we were happy with what we had. We were better off than some kids who lived in rusty shacks on the other side of the railway tracks. Our roof didn’t leak much when it rained.
What I regret most is the loss of simple courtesies, respect for each other, including he who lived on the wrong side of the tracks, and kindness. In today’s cash oriented society every single thing must have a dollar value. Strange, isn’t it, that what we have lost is priceless, and we, silly people, have replaced it with material possessions. Big house, fancy car, thick carpet, air conditioner, and so on and on. All bought with that now elusive commodity, money. What we are now doing is paying exorbitant prices for many things we don’t need, with money we borrow so we can work for the rest of our lives to pay it back, and still have nothing when we die. Strange ambition many of us have.
Before the war the vast majority of us had nothing. We worked out a way of getting what we didn’t have, but Needed, without money. We worked together, we co-operated with one another, we trusted one another, and we had a very open and honest society. Money poor, yes, but rich in friendships and respect.
I suppose I, in my own small way, have unconsciously contributed to our modern society. It doesn’t just happen like a shower of rain, it is slowly contrived over many years. I don’t know what is ahead for my grand children and their children, I only know I miss the friendships I used to have, the friendly neighbours I don’t have anymore, and the basic honesty of the world I live in. Have we progressed forward as a society or is our forward progress limited to technological things.
Maybe that’s the crux of it all, things, instead of people.
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Climate is Changing

June 10th 2010 04:42
Climate change is headline news,
Will it happen? Yes, it will,
And when it really gets here
Guess who will pay the bill?
It won't be the big companies
Nor those multi-nation'l guys.
They just help your hard earned dollar
Disappear before your eyes.

It won't be those in Gov'ment
Not the beurocrats you see,
It will be the ordinary workers,
Just like you and me.
The pollution is still pouring out
from coal burners, in the air,
From power generators and
Big factories everywhere.

But the people who are fouling us
Trade off this awful mess,
They invest in carbon Credits;
Shareholders they will bless.
They'll raise the cost of everything,
Say Climate change is to blame
And govt raises taxes
Their excuse will be the same.

They're investing in the future
For the voters in the land,
While they're taking money
From every worker's hand.
After all is said and done
Mother Nature knows what's best
So she keeps right on changing things
To put us humans to the test.

One day we might get it right
She'll get straight on that phone
And tell our nations experts
To leave her world alone.








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"We kill im for yu, masta?"

May 27th 2010 09:01

His name was Smith. Well, not really, but that will do for this yarn. Bill Smith. He was my little boss, the one who causes me all the hassles as he tries to climb the ladder of perceived success in his Govt Dept.

Mind, I did bend the rules here and there in the interests of my perception of the efficient productivity from my bunch of PNG workers. My thoughts were to get a good job done ASAP with a minimum of waste in labour and materials.

I got caught out in one of my rule bending exercises and put on the carpet by Mr W. Smith. I Escaped with a lecture and a Govt issue smack on the wrist.

I met Joe on one of my work sites very soon after. Joe being another expatriate working in PNG and a friend, I started to give him my own version of the happenings at the Office. After the usual greetings I gave him the whole story from my point of view making many disparaging remarks about the said Mr Smith. Joe was, of course, sympathetic to my views and I must admit I was just a tad overcritical of Mr Smith. Joe kept egging me on and I obliged using relatively unprintable adjectives as a means of more forceful description.

My voice was not particularly loud and does not carry well anyway, so I took no notice of the fact that I was only about 30 feet from where my Chimbu labourers were working quietly. They heard every word I spoke and although I was speaking normally in English, I think they understood that Mr Smith was not my favourite person at present.

A quiet voice said quite close to me:
" Masta. Yu no like Mr Smith. Suppose we kill im for you?"

Now I do have a problem. Kundu was not joking. He was offering to remove the cause of my displeasure positively and permanently.
I knew that life for them had a different value than for us expatriates and set about talking him and his cohorts out of contributing to Bill's early demise. Joe, being a true friend, smiled and vanished in the distance.
What a nightmare I had in front of me. How could I reason with my faithful labourers and their boss boy so that Mr Smith would continue to enjoy the pleasure of waking up each morning.
" Kundu. You no kilim Masta Smith. Suppose you kilim finish Govt call it murder and you go to jail. Bomana jail. No got work, no got friends, no got missus, no got picaninni."
I extolled the negatives and invented a few to Kundu who replied:
" Bomana, he alright masta Bob. One year, two year, got plenty kai kai. It's something nothing, masta."
" No way Kundu. You got family, friends at home in village. Who will look after them if you are not there? And what about the coffee plantation you look after? "
"It's all right masta. Plenty wantok look after things for me." Kundu was rather adamant that disposing of the said Smith gentleman posed no real problems.
And so it came to pass that I spent hours convincing my boss boy that Mrs Smith's little boy should remain as is, without any assistance from him and his labourer mates.
I went home that night and slept rather fitfully dreaming of a deceased Mr Smith being unable to front up for work the next day.
Come morning and sure enough Mr Smith was there in all his glory, being as obnoxious as he possibly could to all and sundry without
actually saying anything you could nail him with. I slept uneasily for a few weeks and then forgot about the incident of Mr Smith and the labourers valuation of his life.
Does my life have that same value?
Could my life be ended by someone just as a favour to their friend?
I no longer wonder about, I know.

wantok - extended family member
Bomana - Jail in PNG.
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Fully Charged

May 25th 2010 06:43
This little story was not funny at the time but I look back at times and wonder.
Early sixties and I was contracting to a company that specialised in farm buildings- Hays sheds, machinery sheds, shearing sheds and any other kind required by a farmer. Christmas was closing in with a gallop and my workman decided to have an early holiday and quit. Only little me left and two sheds to complete by Christmas. Neither were big jobs and two men with experience could have them done in two weeks. I had the right equipment and tools. Bugger it, I'll do two small sheds on my own and still get off for Christmas.
I loaded the old dodge truck with all the tools, food, camping gear on a Wednesday night and left home early Thursday morning


[ Click here to read more ]
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