I thought it might be nice to write about something we never now read in the press, see on the tele, or tune in to the wireless.
It’s not about recent murder or mayhem, carnage on the roads, how drugs are hiding under every doormat, the latest idiocies of the ‘cancel-culture brigade’, the next accusation of sexual predation, the endless ‘rights’ arguments, the economy [save us], or yet another shrill warning [or denial] of climate change. And, least of all, it is not about Covid-19… well, not directly… though perhaps it is, in a peripheral way.
It touches a topic much ignored, but increasingly relevant: the progressive abasement of our fourth estate; a media so self-absorbed in its own endless and repetitive news cycle that it has lost all capacity [if ever it had one] to take a step back, look critically at itself, tone down the carping at others, and carp at itself for a moment.
Sadly, I have stopped buying papers or watching the news. In their place:
- I holler ‘hooray’ for the half-hour of ‘Hard Quiz’ [it is my only remaining ABC program].
- I practice porkies with the panel of ‘Would I Lie To You?’ [despite that it is now on its 4th re-run circuit].
- I carbonise my cookies with the corpulent cooks on ‘The Great British Bake-off’.
- I splay my clay on ‘The Great British Pottery Throw-down’.
- I imagine ‘Singeing the Snags on the Barbie’ in the deepening dusk of a Lorne winter night [though, to be truthful, I have made this last show up, despite that it seems a fine idea for the future].
As for Grand Designs, my only argument with its various iterations [UK, OZ, or NZ] is the millions I would need [plus the extra bank account for over-runs] to even dream of a relocation build. Oh, and that ignores the cost of bespoke fittings and furniture!
But thank you to all who have conjured these alternatives. You have saved my sanity and offer a welcome rescue from the appalling mud of ‘the news’, ‘expert commentary’ and ‘exhausting pap’ now served up by ‘so-called journalists’ who have no insight into what matters in life, nor can find any good in anyone.
As for that, what matters… what an occasional dose uplift might help… is decency, humour, joy, and compassion – and not the ‘microphone-in-the-face faux compassion of a cub reporter asking a grieving father, mother, sibling, or child… ‘how do you feel?’ Do they really think we don’t know?
On this disheartening background, I report a recent and most heartening experience… and a social media one, at that.
While I occasionally dip my toe into the murky waters of social media, I rarely dip deeply enough to risk wetting my Achilles heel. And when I do, and where possible, I seek to make positive comments: raise [not lower] the ‘tone’; contribute, not denigrate.
In this vein, I posted a simple observation during the first week of Lockdown #6. It was an observation that gave me great hope for our future. It was – well – just ‘nice’.
My post read as follows:
‘Today, I saw a kid, just a regular, normal, 14-something Lorne kid… the giveaway was his school tee-shirt … bending and picking up some rubbish. I didn’t know his name – I regret I did not ask – but he just bent, picked up, and popped it in a bin. No fanfare, no acknowledgement – he just did it like he cared. Kids have been side-lined, sometimes vilified, but routinely ignored in this 2+ year marathon we are running and that we too often selfishly dub ‘an adult pandemic’. So … mums, dads, grandies, and kid-friends out there … laud a kid. Laud several. Post, here, the local kid[s] who have done, are doing, or plan to do extraordinary things. Start a page [I don’t have the skills, but some of you might] to “give a kid a lift”. There are great kids out there, but they are all too often forgotten in our self-absorbed adult pain. Go to it, Lorne people …”
The response has been quite overwhelming. I do not seek plaudits for the number of ‘likes’ received – though that may matter to some. No… that is not my point.
My point?… well, rarely do posts on the ‘One and Only Lorne FaceBook Page’ score more than 100 ‘likes’… and almost never more than 200! But in just two days, post ‘likes’ stood at 275 – and are still rising. That’s a lot of ‘liking’ for our little local page.
My point?… that “Joe Lorne” out there, our wonderful, caring and connected “John and Jane Doe’s of the coast”, have clicked ‘like’ to this post as an expression of trust and pleasure in their next generation. They want hope, crave joy, seek uplift, ache for something [anything] better than the twisted-mouth horror of modern-day ‘journalism’. This simple act of an unidentified boy has allowed our coast to sweep aside the miserly misery of mainstream media with ‘I like that’.
My plea… keep seeking the pleasure of a sunrise or sunset. Tune to the symphony of a breaking wave. Listen to the silence of the bush. Sit by Stoney’s Lily Pond and know ‘how special’.
When you finally settle by the fire of an evening, chortle at Lee Mack or David Mitchell telling porkies. Practice your best David Attenborough as you stalk blue wrens through your garden. Wonder at the deep goodness in our kids as they brave their way past the horrors we have built, and skateboard or surf into a better tomorrow.
And… if you see kids doing small acts of kindness, do as I regret that I did not do, and thank them.
POSTSCRIPT: Another Small Act of Kindness caught my attention today. A gently ageing Jack Russell terrier, the much-loved companion of a similarly-matched Lorne citizen, dived head first into a culvert drain yesterday.
People stopped to help, thwarted by the massive concrete lid over the drain. And then along came Sam! ‘Don’t worry, I’ll fetch the pooch’, said Sam, who, with the assistance of a couple of other people wanting to help, then lifted the massive concrete culvert cover [few in Lorne – bar Sam – would have had the strength], saved the pooch, then left post-haste for footy training without even leaving his name. The owner remains deeply grateful but didn’t get a chance to say thank you.
Well… I am ‘outing you’ Sam Dragovitch… for your simple act of human kindness. You left behind a grateful dog-owner, and a rescued dog. Well done, mate!
John Agar
