Servicing Is Golden

A few doors from my humble abode there is a business known as ‘Golden’.  I don’t want to know what they do, because I’m sure the reality will disappoint the expectations inspired by their tag-line: ‘Proudly Servicing Melbourne For Forty Years’.

Whatever it is they get up to, my interest in them reaches near-feverish levels when they have garage sales.  Mostly because (can you guess?) they sell books.  For the sum of ten dollars, you are presented with a plastic bag which you may stuff to splitting with the tomes spread out on the dusty concrete floor.

This morning, appraised of the latest sale, I was there at eight sharp, nose a-twitch, ganglions vibrating and so fired with enthusiasm for the hunt that only the most rigid self-control prevented me from yodelling ‘Yoicks! Tantivity and tally-ho!’

Now: the haul.

Piccadilly Jim by P G Wodehouse
Persuasion by Jane Austen
Amsterdam by Ian McEwan
Goodbye Again by Peter Cook and Dudley Moore
On the Road by Jack Kerouac (soon to replace my dilapidated copy)
Stephen Fry in America by Steven Fry (of course)
The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas
Nightrunners of Bengal by John Masters and
A Book Addict’s Treasury (Ed.) Julie Rugg and Lynda Murphy

Not bad, eh?

But I also stocked up on some trash.

Deep breath, here.  We now enter the confessional.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson
The Host by Stephanie Meyer
The Reconstructionist by Josephine Hart
Australian Tragic by Jack Marx and…

Footy Passions by John Cash and Joy Damousi.

Don’t look at me like that.  I’m curious about Stephanie Meyer, but I’ll be tarred and feathered before I send any royalties her way.  And any book with the media clout Dragon Tattoo has is going to be fun to sneer at.  It will confirm my conviction that I have a more refined literary palate than the great unwashed.

And the AFL season just started.  So I need some quiet reassurance that I’m not all alone in the world when my friends raise their eyebrows at me for being an unreconstructed Geelong tragic (by the way, what a final quarter last night!  Bless the boys).  I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t look or speak or read like a meat-pie-and-beer-at-the-footy kinda guy.  I’m more a gin-and-tonic-in-front-of-the-TV-and-anxiously-checking-online-score-updates-if-the-televised-coverage-is-delayed kinda guy.  So there.

And I’m not ashamed.

And generally mad props to Golden.  They serviced me thoroughly and unstintingly this morning, and I salute them.


10 responses to “Servicing Is Golden

  1. the ruff stuff

    You’re not totally alone. I may not be in your literary league, going through an old Barry Humpries autobiography atm after reading Jonestown (having a biog binge as I try to write one) but as for the secretly checking the live score on the phone, nervously, right there with you. Go Cats.

    • When you get rid of that no-good wife of yours and same-sex marriage is a reality in this country, Mr Ruffles, I think we should get hitched.

      Which Humphries? ‘More Please’? That one’s awesome. He can really write, the talented swine.

  2. This sounds amaaaaaaazing. Let me at it!
    Nice haul. And stop qualifying your crap reading – it has to be done, it’s essential, you can’t tell people they’re reading crap unless you’ve read it yourself, and I’m a firm believer in that.

  3. It’s ‘My Life as Me.’ Inspiring and depressing at the same time.

  4. As for the list … I haven’t delved into Steig Larsson but after reading the movie reviews it becomes apparent that he’s a former journalist who writes about a journalist. With very, very few exceptions this is a very, very tedious thing. We are interested in ourselves, sure, but I firmly believe the role of journalism is to tell other people’s stories. Rarely is the story of how you got the story as interesting as the story itself. Grrrr. That said, I quite enjoy Carl Hiaasen for fairly lightweight and fun thrillers that are based (loosely) on his work as a journo. Only rarely does he have the indecency of introducing a journalist character.

    Now that’s off my chest I’ll agree with littlegirlwithabigpen, but add I appreciate quality more after reading crap. And the same applies to my writing – I know when I’ve done something well only because I have bad examples to compare it to.

    As for getting hitched, I’ll use a footy cliche and just say I’m taking it one marriage at a time.


  5. Pleasure from any sort of writing – be it trash or credible literature – is a wonderful thing.

    The Slap is very interesting, I received it Christmas 2008. The rest of Tsiolkas’ stuff sits gathering dust on my bookshelves – too same-same.

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