Opinions

As I write this we are on our last day of our visit with Lisa and Alan, Sabra’s sister and brother-in-law, who live in Brisbane.
We stayed the first three nights at their house and used the days to explore the city by bicycle and foot. Then we traveled about 60 miles north to an area known as the Sunshine Coast, where Lisa and Alan have a beach house, soon to be a retirement home. Located on an estuary, the house was a short walk, or swim, to the ocean.

We’ve now been in Australia for nearly a week and I’m still finding it all a bit disorienting.
Starting the moment we drove away from the Brisbane airport, the first thing that jarred me was how the traffic– auto, bicycle and pedestrian– was all on the wrong side of the road. It’s confusing and dangerous. While I haven’t had a chance to drive yet, in just a few days I’ve managed to walk into several people and caused cars to come to screeching stops as they dodge me toddling about on a bicycle, or as the Aussies say, “on a bikie.”

I remember when dancing used to be something people did for exercise and recreation, not just a spectator sport as it appears to be rapidly turning into. My parents went out in the evening occasionally for dinner and, for many years, to dance afterward. By the time I was a young adult, people went out to hear bands, and dancing was mostly reserved for special occasions such as proms, wedding receptions, anniversary parties and New Year’s Eve. It used to be a New Year’s Eve tradition to watch Guy Lombardo and his orchestra on television broadcasting from New York City.

Minimum wage when I first punched a time card in 1966 at the News Agency was a buck-25 an hour.
The work was fairly hard and dirty, or more accurately, inky.
I was one of dozen boys called “stuffers.”

Sabra and I have been on a whirlwind driving tour visiting family this holiday season.
I can’t help but feel a little guilty driving long distances.
The burning of fossil fuels is causing all sorts of problems from political instability; to global warming; to making Texans, who otherwise might not be able to handle a job at McDonald’s, insanely rich. I’m all for taxing gasoline heavily and using the proceeds to build sustainable renewable energy for our country and world. In the meantime, we like to travel like everyone else, especially when gas is selling for $2 a gallon.