Remembrance Day

I was in Garden City* this morning when a warbling version of the Last Post started up. I looked at my watch and realised - eleven o'clock on the eleventh day of the eleventh month... Almost all the shoppers around me stood stock still, averting their eyes from the shelves, and the background shop music was hastily switched off as everyone did a bit of private pondering. Except for a handful of people who could blithely be seen zooming around hunting out their purchases as if completely oblivious to the fact that everything else around them had gone into a state of suspended animation. Very weird. How could you not notice a giant pause button going on in such a public place? Or assuming you DID notice, what would your motivation be to choose not to join in, no matter what your beliefs on war? Just too much stuff-buying to be done to care?

After this I walked out to the Medicare office, stopping on my way to buy a poppy from a veteran's stand, the first opportunity I have had to do so this year. The gentleman looked up at me and beamed.

"Do you play netball?" he enquired.

"Sorry?"

"You would be a great netball player. I can put you in touch with my daughter. She has a netball team. They're always looking for players."

It was an unlikely sort of invitation, and one which I had to decline gracefully, though I omitted to mention the real reason, ie, that within a few months I will be looking rather more like the ball itself than a capable player. I have no idea why he singled me out, other than my above-average height. But after that I got to thinking about the days when I did play netball, about a quarter of a century ago. It was the only sport I was ever any good at, and that was just due to my dastardly left-handedness. The best thing about netball was my team position - Goal Attack. Goal Attack! Attack, attack! So much better than my oh-too-appropriate "Left Back" mark in the hockey team.

* Perth's biggest and best shopping mall, thus a veritable temple of consumerism in WA.