Paean to Private Enterprise

Recently, my cousin John visited me from out of state.  As he approached Brisbane, he had a puncture in one of the tyres of the trailer he was towing.  By the time he found somewhere to pull over, the tyre was shredded and the wheel ruined.  His rather dodgy spare got him to my place, before deflating.

We realised that more than a new tyre was needed as the wheel was dodgy too.  The wheels on the trailer were old car wheels, Holdens to be exact.  So I took John to a wreckers yard at Archerfield.  It was one I had found to be good to use and the staff helpful.

Those staff advised that these old Holden wheels were not available at wreckers but one street over was a business that sold trailer parts.  And so it did but the wheel John wanted was not in stock and could not be gotten in until Tuesday.  However, another business one more street over would have them.  And it did.  It had a big pile of wheels with tyres on already, at a good price.  Probably, Chinese cheapies but they were perfect for John.  Problem solved.

I do not know if the business just sold what we bought or sold other different tyres as well.  Did not see.

Archerfield is one of those places that has big clusters of businesses to do with cars, trucks, tyres, plumbing, welding, … and God knows what else.  If you have a need there will be a business that meets it.  As a former office worker who worked in big government and big business this is not my world but, whenever I enter it, I am fascinated.  It is lean and efficient and agile.  No waste.  I am impressed by the knowledge of the people.  May of them would not have finished school let alone gone to university but they know their stuff.  (It is also a male world.)

John and I had a ball in this world.

I have not always been a great admirer of small business, seeing them as just a bunch of tax-dodgers, but I was wrong. These small to medium business meet a huge need.  What they do could not be done by big business or government.  Nor by capitalism nor socialism

Peter Comely RAF, RIP

Eighty one years ago Peter Comely, and so many young men, died — all because that turd Hitler started a huge, utterly unnecessary war.

Recently I watched a television documentary called, The Battle of Britain: 3 Days that saved the UK.  It selected three important dates and looked at individuals who were involved.  One was Pilot Officer Peter Comely, a Hurricane pilot.  On 15 August 1940, he was shot down and killed.  Only nineteen years old.  There should have been so much ahead of him in life.

Those brave young men, white British men, made the ultimate sacrifice for their country.  But now?  Since the war the parliamentary politicians have thrown away their sacrifice, allowing the Asians, blacks, muslims et al to invade Britain.  These heroes did not fight and die for that.  They have been betrayed.

(Originally written in 2021)

Bad Freedom

I grew up Catholic.  My belief in God was strong when I was young but declined asymptotically over decades.  It was not until about age 58 that I explicitly said that there was no God (though in practice I had already ceased believing).

I had an immediate sense of freedom, of control lifting from me.  But was that good?  With no justice and punishment in the afterlife, and probably no afterlife anyway, I was free to do whatever I liked, even if bad.  I was quite conscious of this change.

My behaviour did not change though.  The Catholic system shaped me and I did not shed that.  Religion works as even atheists such as Hegel understood.

Cambodian Girl

When our tour group was at Angkor Wat, I was walking with a woman named Astrid.  We saw a couple of little Cambodian girls happily playing.  Astrid took their photo.  Neither they nor their mother, sweeping nearby, asked for money as people in some countries would.  Astrid turned back and gave them a $US5 note, handing it to the older girl.  As Astrid walked away, the younger girl — a happy, laughing child — ran after Astrid and asked for a $5 for her.  Astrid said, “No, share”.   Fair enough.

I wish I had quietly given Astrid $5 to give to the little girl.  I regret that that I did not.  I did not because I did not think of it soon enough.  I so often do not think of things soon enough.  So the moment passed.  I had an opportunity to give that child happiness and I missed it.  I regret that.

Why am I so slow?

Later I saw her again, laughing and happy, running around.