Of dwarfs, naughty girls, history and wet wipes… what else but “Seven Days” with IAN MEIKLE.

I HEARD a story so fantastic recently that I didn’t believe it. Then I heard it again this past week and it was even more fantastic. 

I’m not sure I can print a word of it as fact, it’s too unbelievable, but it inspired me to write, for the first time, some fiction; a fantastic fairytale, if you like. All made up, of course. 

ONCE upon a time there was a band of dwarfs who worked in a jail somewhere far, far away guarding naughty boys and girls. The dwarfs felt unloved because horrid people with poisonous quills were writing nasty things about their lovely prison. 

It’s hard work and sometimes these misunderstood dwarfs go out together for some fun. One night that’s what they did.

It was a fun night, first at a nightclub and later at a party catching up with some of the naughty girls they knew, who weren’t in prison any more.

Everyone had lots of giggle juice and happy powder, and one of the naughty girls even had a magic device that made films of the party. There was so much fun that one of the girls lost her shirt and a kind dwarf helped vacuum some happy powder off her chest through a straw. 

But the dwarfs and the naughty girls fell out, and the dwarfs hi-ho-ed away.

The naughty girl with the magic device was very sad at the dwarfs’ behaviour and told on them by sending a copy of her party film to one of the chief dwarfs at the jail. 

Luckily for the dwarfs, nothing happened. Weeks turned to months, months to years until, without warning, one day some pointy headed people they’d never seen before (in fact, no-one had) came to the prison far, far away. One wore a wig, a man of integrity with a commission to punish naughty dwarfs. They asked lots of senior dwarfs lots of mean questions about the film of the happy time with the naughty girls and why the dwarfs didn’t get into trouble. 

For years, the pointy headed people had lived alone in a secret cave and people threw rocks at them for never coming out. 

But out they came and surprised everyone by working hard on a happy ending to this story, including the man with the wig, who muttered “heads should roll”. 

That’s as far as I’ve got. I’m not sure I’ve got the ending right yet. Writing fiction isn’t as easy as fact. 

TO another fairytale moment this past week as our lapsed history columnist Nichole Overall rose to her feet to make history of her own in the NSW Parliament. 

It was to be the freshly minted member for Monaro’s first speech, and the first from the first female to hold the seat in its 166-year history (of what she told us started as Maneroo in 1856). 

Resplendent in yellow, she shone against the dusty, dark hues of the small, crowded colonial chamber.

Her finely crafted oration opened with observed humility followed by a poignant grab of Banjo Paterson, before sweeping incisively through Monaro’s rugged history. Both sides of the chamber sat in rapt attention, the Labor opposition listening for chinks, the government in silent respect. 

She gave nothing away beyond being the daughter of a truck driver in the Riverina and a loving sketch of her early and subsequent life on the Monaro.

There was nothing promised that could come back and bite her beyond saying that if she gave her word, she would keep it (“I won’t promise the world and deliver a globe”). 

In winding up the 25 minutes with the inescapable thank yous, she looked from the government benches to the Speaker’s Gallery directly at husband Tim, the long-time, former mayor of Queanbeyan and beyond, and thanked him, in Hansard, for accepting her proposal of marriage 25 years ago. 

It brought the House down and there she stood to the sustained standing ovation of the chamber, left and right. History was made and the new member for Monaro had arrived. I fancy it will be a while before I can get another “Yesterdays” column out of her. 

ICON Water, says Canberra is one of the worst Australian cities for sewer breaks and blockages. It spent $1.7 million to clear them in 2019-2020.

Apparently, many of the “chokes” are self-inflicted. With more than 48,000 trees lining Canberra’s streets, water-seeking tree roots creep into sewerage pipes and blockages occur when wet wipes get snagged on them.

“Wipes cause all kinds of issues at our wastewater treatment plants where they have to be manually removed,” says Icon Water general manager Davina McCormick.

This is serious stuff, Davina, so what’s the public-education solution? Wait for it… an “immersive” computer game called “Free the Poo” that “lets players head down into our wastewater network to destroy the wet wipes blocking our pipes”. Virtually, that is.

The poobahs of Icon Water clearly have had their heads in something and it’s not sand if they think this “quirky and interactive campaign” is the answer to costly sewer blockages. 

The game is available at iconwater.com.au/game and downloadable via the App Store or Google Play. 

AND another joke: Thanks to McDonald’s closing all 800 of its stores, Russia is now a no-fry zone.

Ian Meikle is the editor of “CityNews” and can be heard on the “CityNews Sunday Roast” news and interview program, 2CC, 9am-noon. There are more of his columns on citynews.com.au