She’s got game
“The Herald story of economist Cherelle Murphy’s $70 chicken reminds me of my startlement when some Sydney friends told me it cost $75 to buy a fresh rabbit in the city,” says Belinda Scott of Coffs Harbour. “I immediately offered to host any and all gourmet lapine lovers and to dispatch some of the fine, healthy “underground mutton” currently in residence under the jungle at the bottom of my farm garden. I even offered to skin and gut their bunny of choice, ready for transport back to their city kitchens. Sadly, no takers, so the foxes remain the beneficiaries of this free organic protein larder.”
Make of this what you will: “Chris Ritchie, I found the postcard you wrote from Paris in 1986 to your mum in Paddington,” conveys Belinda Keir of Hurlstone Park. “The Bayeux Tapestry sounded wonderful. I hope you had a nice time at the opera!”
Granny has fielded just a couple of missives involving a Chris Ritchie in the relatively recent past. One was a reference to RAN heavyweight Rear-Admiral Chris Ritchie and his dinner-hosting of personnel during the first visit to Australia by China’s navy in 1998. The other is Chris Ritchie of Willoughby, who, in 2004 was puzzled by some Shakespearean graffiti in Artarmon.
Peter Miniutti of Ashbury says that his claim to fame, according to AI (C8), is that he has “‘shared a variety of witty anecdotes’ to C8 which is described as ‘a long-running daily community section dedicated to quirky observations, lighthearted banter, and urban trivia’. Hardly what I would want on my gravestone, but AI may have other ideas.”
“I remember almost nothing of the introductory French and German classes (C8) that I attended during the late ’70s,” laments Sue Casiglia of North Ryde. “Yet I do remember the infectious chorus of the 1974 #1 Billboard Hot 100 song Lady Marmalade by Labelle, which contains the refrain ‘Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?‘. Can you imagine preteen and teen girls singing and dancing to the translation ‘would you like to sleep with me tonight?’.” Granny notes that the censors eventually caught up and forced Labelle, and others, to sing it as “Voulez-vous danser avec moi ce soir?”
“Many communities are complaining about the moth plague and wish to eradicate them,” notes Lin Sinton of Killarney Heights. “But I am less sanguine. I say leave them alone and let bogongs be bogongs.”
Column8@smh.com.au
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