67/365: Bovine Gold

Sent 6 June 2010.

So I feel like the last few of my postcards have been a little more erratic than they are normally, so here I am to explain. There was a work trip to Melbourne. There was business class where flight attendants allegedly kiss passengers on the head. There were late night bars covered in fake grass. And palaces full of gin. There was a trade show with various interesting talks and seminars and heaps of beautiful pictures. There was trips to buy gloves and a little whinging about how cold it was. And there was very little time to squeeze in my postcard writing, so they ended up vague and a little uninteresting which is a shame because the trip was anything but.

So back to bovine gold. While I was in Melbourne I had a little spare time where work, drinking gin or listening to jazz wasn’t involved so I decided to catch up with my favourite Tall Man who had moved there 6 month previously. There is nothing like a good friend who makes you laugh and takes you on a tour of the State Library. Now an essential part of any library tour is the ‘let’s go laugh at random magazine titles and imagine what kind of people read them’ portion. My favourite had to be Sprocket while Tall Man’s favourite was one he actually made up, Bovine Digest which lead him to tell me the story of Bovine Gold.

Now Tall Man likes cheese. Hell, who doesn’t? But perhaps there are some (strange) people who don’t consider eating it to be one of their main purposes in life. So while Tall Man was once again lovingly discussing cheese with a friend of his, he was stopped mid-sentence. His friend, amazed by Tall Man’s passion, suggested to him that maybe not all people consider cheese to be the commodity that he does and this discussion of cheese being a commodity led to the development of a skit.

Imagine a buck-toothed man in overalls. Possibly even chewing a piece of straw, his crossed-eyed face eyeing of the Maserati’s and Porsches as he enters a luxury car dealership. The jowly car salesman looks at the farmer with suspicion, unsure of what he is doing there and approaches him with an air of superiority as he twirls his bow tie. “May I help you?”, he inquires. The farmer whistles back through the gaps in his teeth “I wants to buy me one of them pretty shiny vee-hick-els you have over there”. Assuming that the farmer would not be able to afford any of the cars in the lots the salesman replies with a sneer, “And how would sir be paying for the car today?” Without missing a beat, the farmer replies “With gold”. At the mention of gold, the salesman’s eyes light up, the sneer on his sweaty face replaced by a smile, his hands rubbing together greedily at the thought of the shiny metal. But the salesman’s growing excitement is interrupted but the farmer yelling, “BOVINE gold” as he whips out hunks of cheese from his overall pockets.

And that’s the end of the skit. I laughed. Alot. Mainly because I know several people who rate cheese above cash.

Thanks Tall Man, not only for my tour of Melbourne and multiple donuts, but for coining the phrase BOVINE GOLD

Till tomorrow



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