Poor Funeral Form, and Spinnin'

I think I might have definitely crossed the bridge over the generation gap and kept right on driving through the next few towns on the road.  Yes, I know the bitching I am about to bombard you with is a few days behind the event, but I've been a bit busy, okay?  Now, I believe love conquers all, and age is only a number.  I do.  Really.  But does anybody really believe the latest woman linking her arm through Geoffrey Edelsten's is seriously in love with him?  Maybe she believes it, but going from an interview I saw her give, I am having misgivings.  But what really made me gnash my choppers was seeing him parade (yes, parade) her on his arm at the funeral for Tommy Hafey.  Eds, were you there to mourn and celebrate the life of Hafey, or did you just want to figuratively shout, 'Look what I scored, everyone!  Another potential trophy for the shelf!'  Could you have not hinted her outfit was inappropriate for a FUNERAL?  This woman stated she hadn't packed anything else that was black when planning her trip from the US to Australia.  A word of advice: you don't HAVE to wear black to a funeral.  What you should wear is something respectful (unless the invitation states otherwise because it's what the deceased would have wanted).  And guess what? Here in the Antipodes we also have shops, and you could have quite easily slipped into one of the many boutiques in the city and bought something that was at least halfway decent.  Saying you've never been to many funerals just doesn't cut it with this cynical old blogger, I'm afraid.  Did this pair of show ponies honestly think it was okay to rock up to a funeral in what appeared to be PVC cut three sizes too small, thus making the bosom jut out the top and wobble about so that it looked like there were two bald men having sex in there?  And it's this distasteful gaffe that's got people talking, myself included, instead of the service for the deceased.

Now for my next rant.  There has been much criticism of our PM for winking during a filmed radio interview, which just happened to be while the caller was describing herself as a 67 year old who was doing phone sex to make ends meet.  Abbott's spin doctors, surely the most stressed and busiest people in Australia, have said it was in response to a signal from the radio presenter, and Abbott was giving the okay to continue.  I'm actually willing to give Abbott the benefit of the doubt here; it does make sense to me.  But by the living Harries, it was creepy to watch.  Next time, Abbott, how about you just nod, okay?   The winking was as nauseating and shudderworthy as discovering bats having sex in your hair.  Okay, so the Prime Ministerial spin team has hopefully got his body language sorted out.  Their next brief, and one for which I do not envy them, is to explain why there have been 80 billion dollar cuts to education, juxtaposed to his daughter receiving a $60,000 scholarship from a board upon which one of his liberal donors sits in order to complete her design degree. 

Okay, have been shmoozing like a pro, and will be giving a talk at the library in a few weeks.  Have also been onto some other libraries in the Hunter Valley.  I'm tired.  My leave is almost over.  I will return to paid work next week.  I'd rather be drinking margaritas on a yacht in the Bahamas, personally.