Rubbing It In

Been pondering the unemployed/employed interface a bit for obvious reasons, and the loss of most of my time. All I can say is the Australians certainly rub these things in.

We were on a constituency outreach visit the other day at a beautiful place on the coast to the south called South West Rocks. It was a splendid day and we'd parked the car outside the tourist information centre, a wooden cottage overlooking some dunes and a beach. Luke, my boss and MP, had gone to buy us some coffee after being berated by a passer-by about the Tampa and the "children overboard" fiasco (which was nothing to do with him but that's grass-roots politics for you) leaving me to watch the shop, which meant standing in the sun next to the sandwich board which we'd erected, announcing our presence.

I was gazing longingly down on the beach when a short-clad bloke marched purposefully into the garden of the information centre centre, went inside and then emerged in the garden with an Australian flag which he proceeded to run up a flag pole. I thought how splendid the blue and red and the stars looked in the sunshine. Nearly all flags do, I find.

"That your first job of the day?" I asked.

"Mate," he replied with relish, "it's my only job."