I was over the moon when David Posh rang me with the proposition of contributing to his blog. I was further elated when it emerged that I wouldn’t have to pay him any money for the privilege. Over the years I have always used the Council’s own publication, the “OnView” magazine, as a means of trying to get my views and wishes across to the electorate. However, I soon realized that it was only rabbits that were getting the message, as the publication in most cases always ended up lining the bottom of pet hutches across the region.
For my inaugural post I would like to reflect on the first time I met David Posh. As history trots along its path, it occasionally produces people of great political acumen. Posh is clearly not one of them, though he was one of the youngest people to become an elected member. As he sauntered into my office, I thought to myself, “it must be work experience week”. My secretary informed me that this was not the case, and neither was it “bob a job day”. The mistake was a very easy one to make. Posh was exquisitely turned out: his school shorts had a razor sharp crease, his Clark’s slip on sandals were polished to perfection and his Oakleigh Garden’s school badge was worn with pride. He looked every bit the 12 year old that he was.
“Morning Mr Malcovitch” he said in that high falsetto voice of a teenager who has yet to face the problem of a fluffy chin, smelly feet and unwanted spots. “I am having trouble with my homework. My expense claims are just not adding up”. To emphasise the point, he blew a massive Hubba Bubba bubble.
“That’s a pity” I said, “is maths not one of your best subjects?”.
“My ability to add up is not the issue Mr Mal” said Posh, wiping green snot on his coat sleeve, “the problem is the figure they add up to is not enough to keep a school boy in Curly Wurly’s, Texan Bars, pencils, rulers and rubbers”.
Since that day, Posh and I have met on regular occasions in order to ensure that his expenses always meet his expectations. His desires may have become increasingly more demanding, but he is still essentially the same school boy I met all those years ago. He still has that naive obsession with trains, especially first class travel, and he still loves a burger, especially a McDonalds or a Burger King Bumper Meaty Treat Eat All You Can Special. Basically, the child is still in him and he loves a free toy.
I have always relied on David’s support when faced with difficult votes, and to date he has never let me down. He has never acknowledged the political divide that exists between us, concentrating more on the moral principal that I have the pen and the cheque book, and he has the bank account.
No doubt 2010 will be very difficult for both of us. I’ve told him I can’t help with the re-election vote in May 2010; to many ballot boxes have already gone missing, a few more would look suspicious. Nor can I reduce the voting age to 13, thereby allowing his fellow pupils to vote for him.
All I can do is offer him my support, as long as he never mentions it. He also has my assurance that when his false ID is knocked back at Booze Buster, I will always buy his Bella for him.
That is the sign of a true friend.
I look forward with great haste to contributing to this site.
Yours from The Fountain’s Toilets
Iain Malcovitch
No comments:
Post a Comment