As one of Australia's foremost humorists, Kerry
Cue is in demand as a columnist, author and public speaker. Her humorous
articles have been published in nearly every newspaper in Australia .
Kerry writes a weekly column for the Herald Sun newspaper (Vic) and The
Advertiser newspaper (SA) as well as providing regular recordings for
the ABC. Kerry's articles are concerned with the humorous side of life
and observations of the world around us. She questions the rituals of
human behaviour in a way that is both entertaining and enlightening. Kerry
Cue is also the best selling author of over 17 humorous and educational
books. Her first book "Crooks, Chooks and Bloody Ratbags"
Contributions to Soul Food
Introducing Kerry Cue
I Love A Car Mad Country
I love a car-mad country
We love the smell of new cars
We Aussies love our cars.
Wayback when Joni Mitchell sang the words ‘They paved paradise and put up a parking lot’, some Aussies looked upon ‘The Big Yellow Taxi’ as their theme song. Well, you can never have too many parking spaces, can you? We Aussies love our cars.
But something dreadful is happening. The price of petrol is going up. And up. Could this be the end of the road for Aussie petrol heads? Could it be, that in the near future, we won’t be able to afford cars? Will they ‘put them in a car museum and charge us a dollar and a half just to see ‘em’?
Can you imagine the trauma we Aussies would face if we could no longer afford to drive our cars?
Children would go into shock. Parents would have to explain the no-car concept to them. ‘Now kids we can’t afford the petrol. You’ll have to walk to school. You know how to walk! You put one foot in front of the other until you get there. I walked to school. Yes. I did. Every kid walked to school then. It is not child abuse. It will not kill you. It’s good for you. No you won’t be late for school. You’ll have to leave a bit earlier. And turn off the TV’. Having to walk and give up TV at the same time, would put the average Aussie kid into therapy for life.
Parents themselves would be in shock. They’ll have to give up their station wagons. How would they transport their 2.4 children?
Aussie blokes would be gob smacked. If there were no cars, they’d have nothing to talk about. What would conversations be like at the pub? ‘Have ya seen the latest Turbo Thongs, mate? Free air. Alloy rims. Power Strolling. They’re great.’
And some of these blokes would have nothing to do. They spend all of their time tinkering with, cleaning and bonding with their cars. They might have to go inside and talk to the family. These are blokes, who can remember the make, model and rego number of every car they have ever owned, but struggle to remember the names of their own children unless, of course, they’re called Mercedes, Morgan, Jack (Short for Jackaroo) or his twin Cam (Short for something).
The Grande Prix would be no more. Can’t afford Formula I fuel either. No way. Grande Prix drivers would be running around in their little padded jumpsuits with nothing to do. Michael Schumacher will have to go back to the traditional family business. Shoe making. But, without cars, we’ll need a lot of shoes. Moreover, with no Grande Prix, bands of long-legged blondes in cut down shorts would have nowhere to sit. No car bonnets. What would they do?
Young P-platers who once dedicated themselves to cruising town in techno-thudding, mag-wheeled, red sedans will have to go onto medication. Once they step out of those cars they’ll discover ringing in their ears caused by driving around town in techno-thudding, mag-wheeled, red sedans.
4WD owners will have their dreams of crossing the Simpson dessert, destroyed. What would they do with their 4WDs if they can no longer afford petrol? Nothing. The same as now. Businessmen would be shattered. They’d have to give up their Beamers and Mercs. How would they display their financial success? They’d have to wear $100,000 ties. Older teenagers could no longer go to school socials in limos. Being dinked on a bike wouldn’t be the same. The champagne would tip over in the basket.
They’d be no wedding cars. Love and Marriage would have to go together once again like a horse and carriage. Considering the rate of remarriage, a wedding carriage company could wear the legs off scores of horses.
Ute drivers would have nowhere to put their tool kit, kelpie or their lunch box. Those boys eat big lunches. ‘O what a feeling. Just walking.’ Doesn’t sound the same at all.
A turbo loving country
Though earth holds many freeways
© 2003 Kerry Cue