You never know who is at the door...

Allan Sanders and Lee Kennedy (Photo courtesy of J Cosmo Newbery).

The trouble with providing a letter drop-point for some of the more scurrilous ne'er-do-wells of the world is that sometimes I find myself on the receiving end of their guest lists. This usually involves bailiffs, sheriffs and bounty hunters.

This afternoon the door bell rang and I was greeted with "J Cosmo Newbery!".

Of course, this puts me on a spot. Do I proceed with the charade? Do I feign ignorance? Do I say that Mr Newbery is off having his knees checked for mines and could I take a message?

I did the only polite thing I could and invited the gentleman in. He had, after all, come all the way from France along with his lovely wife and young son. His name, I found out, was Allan Sanders.

As the story panned out it seems that Allan, writing as Dyson Kardz, and Mr Newbery, writing as Sir Wilberforce Harrington-Smythe, had run a joint counter scam with some Nigerian conmen a few years back. (It is a fear that one day some gentlemen from Lagos will turn up looking for Mr Newbery. They will probably not be invited in.) You can read the account here but I strongly suggest you arm yourself with a coffee, or better, before venturing into their long and quite remarkable tale.
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Stand back!

The annual Boxing Day sales are on.

Remember all those 'Peace on Earth, goodwill to your fellow man' pledges made over lunch yesterday? Well, they all count for nought in the mad stampede for bargains at the sales today.

Do not stand in the way of a shopper and a bargain. Look closely at your insurance policy and you will find that such suicidal an act is expressly excluded.

It is a time when you realise just how thin the veneer of civilization really is.

Richard, with all the confidence of the the young and inexperienced, headed off to Chadstone, the local shopping complex this morning but, to his credit, he left home at 7:30am. He was home again in two hours, largely unscarred and with three books.

Do they have Boxing Day sales where you are? Do you go? What are you looking for?
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In the end, I needed the coffee..

Dropped my thesis at Uni today, for binding. (Cheers, whistles)

To celebrate, I decided to have a boutique coffee, a tall vanilla latte. Not something I have in real life and something that I associate with the only place I have ever had them, Uni.

There was a different lady behind the counter, presumably the normal staff had gone on holidays. The conversation went like this:

Me: Could I have a tall vanilla latte, please.
Her: Sure. Do you want tall or regular?
Me: Um...make it a regular tall.
Her: OK. So that will be with soy milk then?
Me: (Thinks) You can't milk a soy.
Me: (Says) Regular milk, please. Tall, if you have it.

As I walk out I think to myself: She only charged me for a tall latte.

I sip the drink. Sure enough, no vanilla.

I was a good coffee. Just as well. I needed it.
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The joy of stereotypes.

I went to a wedding on Saturday. It was for one of Margaret's class mates and so I was largely amongst strangers. It was illuminating to see the questions that I got from some of the women.

1. Do I have a list of all the local take-aways for use when Margaret is in Scotland? (She leaves on Sunday for three weeks).

2. Do I know how to use the washing machine? (At least they didn't ask if I knew how to use the kettle.)

3. And, as it was a Asian themed wedding dinner, do I know how to use chop-sticks?

It is intriguing to see how readily (some!) people pigeon-hole and stereotype others.

What would they think if they knew I had just put the Christmas Cake in the oven to cook?
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Nice to meat you, Professor Grayling!

A blast from the past last week.

Last year I 'found' A. C. Grayling; found in the sense of found myself reading one of his books and, found I liked what I read and found myself reading some more. He is a professor of Philosophy in the UK.

I did, however, find one article on meat, indeed entitled "Meat", to be not to my liking. While I have no bones to pick with a vegetarian (can I say that?), as a food chemist I was less than happy with the technical aspects of his article which pivoted around the 'bad' things that meat contains or does to you. This resulted in a spirited correspondence. I was quite impressed that I could approach someone in his position and that he had the generosity to engage in discussion.

Last week the good Professor was in Melbourne for the Melbourne Writer's Festival.

I couldn't resist going along to one of his talks; he gave a very interesting summary on his latest book, "Towards the Light", on the history of liberty, and then I duly stood in line to get a copy of the book signed.

When I reached the front of the queue, he saw my name (it had been put on a post-it note by an assistant further up the queue) and paused. I didn't leave him wondering why the name was vaguely familiar but introduced myself and had a few words with him before letting the queue continue moving.

Nothing earth shattering but nice to meet someone you respect.

In the flesh, so to speak.
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