The Importance Of Being Harpo
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
  Do I work in Sunbury?
I was sitting in the crowd at Telstra Dome on the weekend, watching a team I follow. As you do, you get to the ground, you pick your spot and spread yourself out trying to look proprietorial over as many seats as you can. My mates only turned up right before the start of the game and by then my demesne had shrunk only to the two seats beside me — I have not the commanding presence I wish I had. Shortly before they got there, the chap on the other side of the spare seat to my right leant over.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

Never seen him before as far as I could tell but my answer left the door open.

“I'm sure I know you,” he continue. “Do you play soccer?” This was very encouraging. My athletic build and sporting prowess were apparent at a mere glance to this stranger. I'm not often confused for sportsmen, it's usually movie stars: Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom… I still constantly get mistaken for Johnny Depp. But, to his query, I had to answer in the negative.

“I know,” he continued. The fellow wasn't being intrusive or unpleasant. He was just a bloke who wanted to connect. “Do you work in Sunbury?”

Do I work in Sunbury? Where did that come from? As I'm sure you will understand I was non-plussed by this and repeated a sterner assertion that I'd not met him before.

I bring up this commonplace interchange — which pretty much ended at that point — only to announce to everybody: I do not work, have never worked and will never work in Sunbury.

Should anybody from out of town stumble upon this page, for their benefit I say that Sunbury is a charming hamlet on the distant Melbourne outskirts that boasts many attractions like wineries, historic buildings, an agricultural show. It calls itself the birthplace of the ashes — the perpetual trophy, shown in the picture here, awarded to the winner of test cricket series between Australia and England. The people who live and work in Sunbury all bake. That's all. They just bake. Cakes mostly, a few biscuits, some bread. Baking. That's all they care about. How good is your oven? What flour do you use? Do you use low-fat butter? If you have any self-respect you will not move to Sunbury or baking is all you will ever care about.

I do not work, have never worked and will never work in Sunbury.

 
Comments:
I think that to care about nothing but baking would be one short step from utter serenity. The slight gao between my existence and utter serenity would be ore than adequately compensated for by having a good collection of muffins.

I'm still not willing to move to Sunbury. Can you recommend any other baking-obsessed suburbs/hamlets in the greater Melbourne region?
 
You make it sound as though it were a good thing but I assure you, the horror that would result is not to be dreamt of.

No cricket: just buns. No umbrellas and steam trains: merely coffee scrolls. No pool parties: only dishes.

When I was a child I had a nightmare in which our house was attacked by pelicans and the only way to protect ourselves was to sit in woks and rock from side to side. Even that was less scary than the thought of being in Sunbury and baking.
 
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