One Thing Leads to Another

One thing I like about my boss is that he isn't all hung about being the CEO and a Very Important Person. The only time he ever puts his foot down is when he wants things done a certain way and that's the way we're doing them. After all, he's the one who's going to wear it, so it seems fair. He'll listen to argument but he'll make it clear if he's not interested in having his mind changed.

But he doesn't mind helping with the cleaning up at the end of a meeting, or ducking out and doing the photocopying, or letting you talk because you know the subject matter. And he's also really good about letting me use his car during the day. Which is particularly excellent today, because I'm taking my little Holga, jumping in his souped-up car (with magical automatic drink holders) and whizzing over to Perry Lakes to take some pictures of the old stands and entry gates there. It's all broken down and falling apart and looks like it belongs in the Communist Architectural Digest but there's something about it that appeals to me.

Sometimes I get afraid that the whole world is going to be swallowed by blue glass and white concrete. While I love blue glass and white concrete - so smooth! so clean! - I think it needs to be complemented by lots of strange and crappy falling-down things as well. So we can appreciate the smooth and clean but also take a trip down memory lane without having to rely on photographs tucked away in the State Library or National Archives.

I took some photos of my favourite ramshackle house in Cottesloe a while back, across the road from the tennis courts. I was glad I did because I'd been admiring that house for years, wondering how many vampires were sleeping in the darkness within, and then suddenly it was gone and the block has been divided into four mean little parcels. You can't miss your chance, it might never come again.

Also, it would be wrong not to take advantage of those terrific drink holders, so I think I'll stop at Maccas and get a coke.