By Graham Mabury, 882 6PR - Nightline, weeknights from 8pm
EVERY so often Nightline reminds me of the two mosquitoes in the Far Side cartoon. One has blown up like a giant red balloon.
The other is yelling, “Pull out Betty! Pull out!..You’ve hit an artery!”
A couple of weeks ago, we covered the fact that milk, bread, eggs, fruit and vegies are once again being delivered to your door.
The return of the “milko” hit an artery. It triggered a landslide of calls.
People couldn’t wait to talk about the milkman pouring milk into your billy, and the baker’s horse and cart. Apparently, all such horses knew when to stop and start.
Peeling away strips of still-warm bread that had been home-delivered in large wicker baskets was a joy for children.
Discovering that the first few slices of a new loaf resembled quoits was a frustration for their mothers.
The night cart with its attendant cloud of flies has passed into oblivion, but those who drove it are fondly remembered. Back then “the garbo” walked into our back yards to collect our rubbish. And he could count on carrying out a present every Christmas.
Why such fondness for the Watkins man, the Rawleigh man and other vendors of times past?
They were threads pulling together the lives of a community, their visits a cadence of human contact that marked the passing of our weeks.
The computer-generated voice from the electronic womb tells us it wants to “best direct your call”, but we still resent it.
The self-serve petrol pump now takes credit cards.
We much prefer “Can I check your oil and water?”
Intuitively we know John Donne had it right back in 1624. “No man is an island… every man is… a part of the main.”