Sime says

I bought it in the 90s, at a time when an offer to 'show one's etchings' might buy me a ticket to manhood. With a glamorous girlfriend on one arm and a glass of champagne in the other hand I purchased the painting by John Ogburn from a reputable gallery in Chippendale. I felt pretty chipper about it. The moment of madness had nothing to do with any kudos attached to acquiring artwork, for on this  occasion I was genuinely struck by the subject: the Australian landscape. Particularly country NSW and the wide-open spaces that spread themselves before you like a seductive mistress the moment you accelerate west from Lithgow. The urge to drive deeper into her heart hits me every time. Back in the gallery, my deviant mind transformed the perfectly framed hillocks hanging before me into a range of majestic buttocks cavorting in a luscious palette of sunburned shades. Pubic mounds of woodland intersecting steep gullies, a snaking river pushing agonisingly close to a V-sh...

I don't have a head for numbers, so walking into my local bank branch sends me into a cold sweat. You'd think that after stepping foot into this particular money pit for more than 45 years, that the tellers would tell everyone about my arrival, the manager might hand me gold ingots and interest rates would climb in expectation. Not so, for in 2018 this is one antsy place to be in. Just the other day, fed up with waiting and with an obvious want to attract attention, the fellow behind me in the queue exhaled in a fashion not too dissimilar to the way an elephant seal snorts hot fish breath into the air.  With the odour wafting over my shoulder I shuffled forward but was blocked by Mavis who had just strolled in, with her passbook, and taken up poll position in front of me. Up ahead at the money end of the queue, the manger – whilst on the phone to bank central – gave directives to the customer in front of him. Stymied at every angle, the customer left shaking his hea...

Weeks ago Qantas CEO Alan Joyce stood in front of a big bird and proclaimed it to be "da Queen of da skoies". He was referring to the 747 jumbo jet which will soon be retired from service. I beg to differ Alan for there is a bird that has ruled above Australia well before the monarchy first touched down. And I'm a major shareholder in its operation. There's nothing cheap about my bird –  she's more A380 than ezyjet. Her robust and stocky fuselage sprouts wings that lift and transport her bulk with ease. Flying daily non stop from lily pilly to veranda for more than 10 years, flights are on schedule and land the moment I step into the kitchen. I provide fuel for return fights in the form of raw chicken necks that are swallowed and stowed quicker than a flight attendant disarms doors and cross checks. Other domestic carriers do little to disrupt the flight path of this Australian icon. She is totally unflappable. Cheap and noisy miners do their best to del...