Scotto and I have our best creative brainwaves when we go out to lunch.
“We should write a childrens’ book!” one of us will effuse. “Or make a Youtube video!”
One day we decided we could write the Great Australian Novel. We had the plot; the characters, the complication … everything we needed, but we neglected to write down the details and neither of us could remember anything the next morning. I’m positive it was a bloody good idea though.
The most outlandish hogwash we ever came up with was on a day we were at lunch waiting to go and watch Thaddeus, Jonah and Newman play in their band at the pub around the corner.
We were between our second and third wine and as we bemoaned the recent rate hikes in our city and discussed which teenager we should list on Ebay to raise revenue, I espied an electoral advertising billboard on the side of the road and unexpectedly blurted out with a rush of excitement, “I should run for Mayor!”
“That’s a great idea, Pinky!” Scotto unwisely encouraged, “What party would you join?”
“Labor of course, don’t all teachers vote Labor?” I queried.
“I don’t know, but it sounds right to me.”
Over the course of the afternoon we had devised all of our financial policies (Scotto was going to be my campaign manager at a shrewdly negotiated fee, which almost started an argument mind you) and we had all our slogans worked out including what type of car I would drive and how I should style my hair. I think I may have even told a few friends at the boy’s gig about how I was entering the mayoral race.
“Good for you, Pinky!” smiled a nervous Newman’s mother.
The next morning as I stretched out in bed suddenly the whole silly notion flooded back into my dehydrated grey matter.
“I can’t run for Mayor…” I whimpered to Scotto. “I have too many skeletons in the closet.”
“What do you mean?” he sat bolt upright in bed looking alarmed. “Naked videos on the Internet?”
“No.”
“You’ve been in prison?”
“No.”
“You used to be a man?”
“No.”
“What then, Pinky?”
“I don’t know sh#t about politics.” I bleated pathetically.
“That shouldn’t stop you.” He answered in a relieved tone of voice.
It’s true. I’m an ignoramous. My sister-in law, Maz, knows everything. This is a link to her blog…The Conscience Vote
Last year Maz stayed with us for a couple of weeks and I was desperate to impress her with my superior intellect. She is one of those people who can read five books overnight, and I was looking forward to discussing literature with her as I’m a bit of an aficionado.
Whilst I’ve read the Jane Austen trilogy, (my favourite was ‘The Emma Strikes Back’) and ‘Withering Looks’ by Emily Bronte, I’m not a big fan of George Eliot, he’s a bit pretentious.
“What’s this?” she asked curiously, picking up a copy of “Fifty Shades of Grey”.
“Nothing!” I said snatching it out of her hand and chucking it under the coffee table.
I attempted to engage her in some political debate while she was staying with us. “Look!” I’d exclaim after I’d been losing an argument about climate change and snuck upstairs to my computer. She’d graciously peruse the clutch of freshly printed Wikipedia pages I held up as ‘facts’ and shoot me down gently with rational deliberation.
I had no hope.
I just wanted to say how proud we are on her recent writings and thank her for supporting me in my literary attempts to look at the brighter side of life through my blog.
This is my sister-in-law published!
