Mister Brisbane: Off my trolley
The one where I get a pizza the brand-name action. And become a dating superstar.
I’ve complained a lot about the way some people just abandon their trolleys in shopping-centre car parks. I’m particularly annoyed with those who leave their trolleys in a way that they block parking spaces — and even more so with those who lazily and arrogantly leave their trolley right next to a trolley bay but not in it. They just couldn’t put in the tiny extra effort to leave it in the right place.
But in my book there is an even worse crime: taking a trolley far away from the supermarket car park and leaving it in the middle of nowhere. Recently, within minutes, I saw two abandoned trolleys in my suburb — one in a park and the other on the footpath. I’ve also seen them in the middle of creeks and other relatively inaccessible places. Exactly how they got there I don’t know — although it’s a safe bet they didn’t do it of their own volition. Now, of course, somebody else has to go and fetch them. Or maybe they’ll just stay there until they rust away and muck up the ecosystem.
Does whoever do this think it’s funny (it isn’t); do they just not care; are they deliberately trying to mess with me? Whatever their motive, it’s clear the offenders have no pride in their city or themselves.
Tune in to the Mister Brisbane radio show on Reading Radio at 1296AM and on DAB+ in Brisbane at 6.30pm on Tuesday nights. It’s also available as a podcast. Just search for “Mister Brisbane” on your favourite player or follow this link.
DATE UPDATE
Some news on my online dating adventures: I was chatting to one woman and we were getting along really well. Then, within a few days, she started coming on very strongly, calling me affectionate names and talking about our future together. “Too much, too soon” was my initial thought, but then I reckoned maybe that was just the way she expressed herself. Then I realised something really important: she’d asked almost no questions at all about me, where I live and what I do, and only gave cursory responses to the information I volunteered about myself (my age, my appearance etc.).
I can think of two possible reasons for that: that she was so desperate to get out of her own circumstances that she didn’t care who she was hooking up with — which is hardly ideal from my point of view — or (probably more likely) the whole thing was a scam. I stopped corresponding with her (is it really “ghosting” when the person probably doesn’t exist?), as I did with another, impossibly beautiful, woman who started to tell me how she’d lost her job and was going to be thrown out of her apartment. It’s possible that I’m a heartless bastard, but I know enough about online scams to know that this follows a pattern experienced by others. How could I not be suspicious?
P.S. I spoke about my online dating adventures to the wonderful creators of the Ghosts of Boyfriends Past podcast. The episode, Brett and the Online Dating Dilemma, is here.
SPICE OF LIFE
Variety shows used to be the staple of the live entertainment scene — until television came along and stole all the talent. So it was fabulous, in my proper job, to be able to organise an on-air chat between Spencer Howson and Ben Robertson, one of the Robertson Brothers, who recently brought their 1960s TV Variety Show to venues around Queensland. They’ve brought the artform full circle: from the stage to the screen and back again. I love live and local entertainment, which is why I’m thrilled to be creating radio shows from Brisbane for a Brisbane audience.
NEED FOR SPEED
Why is it that many motorists slow to a crawl at the mere sight of a police vehicle? On a recent country drive, I couldn’t work out why the stream of traffic was reduced to a snail’s pace until I saw two police cars parked on the side of the road. The officers who were standing beside the vehicles may have been using a speed gun, or setting up an RBT station, but I reckon they were just chewing the fat. In any case, it’s not a crime to drive at the speed limit, but it’s a damn inconvenience — and potentially a danger — to every other road user to suddenly pull back to a half or a third of the limit “just to be sure”.
CAR POOL
Life is pretty quiet around my apartment complex. At least it was until somebody drove their car through a fence and into the swimming pool. I missed it, but I believe it was not deliberate (thus ruling out the ghost of Keith Moon as the driver) and nobody was hurt. The photograph does not depict the incident.
(I’M) BRANDED
Can you name any Brizbrands? By which, of course, I mean product brand names that originated or became established in Brisbane, even if the companies are no longer made or owned here. My list includes Bushells tea (which originated with Alfred Bushell in the late 1800s); Stefan (the hairdresser, of course, whose first salon was in Longreach); Keri Craig (the dressmaker who, among other things, designed the wedding dress for Renate Blauel when she married Elton John); Pauls milk and ice-cream; and Domino’s pizza. Yes, I know Domino’s is an American brand, but the business took off in Australia by Brisbane’s Silvio Bevacqua, whose Silvio’s Dial-a-Pizza bought the master franchise and changed its name to Domino’s in the 1990s. Who remembers the yellow delivery vehicles with huge red telephone handsets on their roofs?
FEEDBACK
On the recurring theme of people who don’t bother to return their shopping trolleys to the right place (see above), Oliver writes: “I used to be infuriated in my Bangkok condo by someone on my floor who’d routinely put their rubbish ON TOP of the bin. Couldn’t even be arsed lifting the lid.”
Smokey shares his views on my Moreton Bay adventure and my quest for frequent-flyer points: “Growing up bayside, the island lifestyle was always within reach albeit without the Cinderella type timelines to get home. [Regarding] loyalty cards, the money the chains get from selling their data to suppliers far, far outweighs the perks of the programme.”
Mark writes: “I, too, have looked at buying on the islands (Lamb was my preference, a bit smaller). However, I think living there would best suit retirees who don’t mind mosquito repellent (during a tour of properties, the local real estate agent gave us a spray of his own formulation!). And the ‘old’ rego sticker on the car could be a reproduction? I have bought a replica ‘Drive To Stay Alive’ rego sticker for my 1985 car.”
On potential uses for the Old Museum, Walter suggests a sound and vision archive, with hands-on exhibits. Sally says: “Why not a multi-purpose venue? A flexible performance space, exhibition/indoor market venue, conference venue, lecture hall, catered function room and ballroom? In other words, a big, versatile indoor space for hire.” Chris says: “Keep it alive with music and theatre. Why build new venues when we have beautiful spaces?” And Michelle, who runs a home for abandoned cats, says to “make it into a giant house for stray kitties”.
AFTERTHOUGHT
Authorities in Moreton Regional Council are searching for a name for the emerging West Caboolture planned community. Since it’s going to be the next Springfield, I reckon it should be called Shelbyville. This could set up a rivalry for the ages.