We've just come back from the Bay where I spent an hour in the warm-water pool while Padma went through her two-hour induction to be a "NBN Brand Ambassador" and, of course, I also "re-homed" a few more books.
It was the same geriatric crowd in the pool, including that barely middle-aged but grossly obese character who, thanks to a wasted life spent on drugs and booze, is now entitled to a personal carer paid for by the long-suffering Australian taxpayer. Maybe he's still indulging in his habit because the dressing room now also has a wall-mounted syringe container with an upside-down inscription which shouldn't bother those who need to use it as they are either already totally out of their brain or can't read anyway. This country is definitely going to the dogs!
Late yesterday, a dyed-in-the-wool Republican voter from Connecticut phoned me and jokingly introduced himself as J.D. Vance, however, I can still tell one sycophant from another and knew that this one was not the real J.D. Vance - anyway, the whole world will soon find out who the real J.D. Vance is. Still, it almost seemed too much of a coincidence when I found his 'memoir' "Hillbilly Elegy" (written when he was just 31 years old!) on the bookshelf at Vinnies. I promptly bought it even though it's probably a waste of good money even at the miserable two dollars.
"The Courage to be Disliked" could've been written by me but I picked it up anyway, together with a beautifully presented coffee table edition of "Aung San Suu Kyi - A Portrait in Words and Pictures". The charming lady at the check-out asked me why I was interested in the book. Because I used to live and work in Burma, I replied. "I'm Burmese", she said, and greeted me in Burmese. She was from Rangoon where her father had been manager of the Inya Lake Hotel in which I had lived for the first six months. All those long-suppressed memories came flooding back ...
