CHAPTER 2
U3 – EH?
'Excuse me, Mr Mayor?'
'Yes, Henry - what is it?'
'It's Security, Sir. They say demonstrators have invaded the foyer down below. They want to know if they should call the Police?'
'Who are they – these… demonstrators?'
'U3A, Sir.'
'U3 ... eh? What's that? Wait a minute. I know. Let me guess: something to do with that millennium thingy-bob we had? No? Global warming? No, don’t tell me. Er... one of those nuclear protest things? A community radio station, perhaps? Well… I give in. What is it then?'
'They are all members of the University of The Third Age - Bribie Island, Sir.'
'A University... on Bribie Island? You're having me on, Henry.'
'It's not a real University, Sir. It's an Adult Education, group. One mainly catering for Senior Citizens.'
'What! You mean we're forking out ratepayer's money to educate a load of old wrinklies... well past their
use-by-date? And using our money to fill in their time while waiting to pop their clogs? Surely that money would be better spent on up and coming voters - I mean ratepayers - of the future?'
'Actually, Sir - strange as it may seem we don't spend anything on U3A. Not a proverbial bean. They’re
self-supporting - 100% - and have been ever since they started, some years ago now. A small annual membership fee and a very low class-attendance fee appear to cover all their costs.'
'You're kidding - aren't you? I mean, just about every organisation has its fingers in the pie today - it's the modern way - the Australian way. Surely they get the odd Grant or two: from Federal... or State Governments?'
'Apparently not, Sir. Although other U3As hereabouts seem to fare much better in that regard.'
'Is that why they're demonstrating now? After some sort of subsidy, excused rates and taxes, free painting and decorating, Council to mow the lawns? I know - I've heard it all before.'
'No, Sir. All they seem to want is some form of accommodation of their own. Not an unreasonable request one might think for an educational body. One has only to think of how we help and encourage the sports.'
'Ah... yes. The voters... er... ratepayers, love their sports. And it keeps their minds off... other... more serious things.'
'The U3A have to rent space from the Bribie Island Neighbourhood Centre. It's their biggest expenditure.'
'Sounds like an admirable arrangement, to me.'
'Well... the so-called Neighbourhood Centre is nothing more than a high-set, three-bedroom house. After office space, there's only one bedroom, the lounge and an adjoining kitchen, for use as classrooms by the U3A – and it must be shared with other groups too.'
'Hmmm. How do they manage then - take turns sitting on the loo? Ha, ha!'
'Only with great difficulty, Sir. Almost 50% of the U3A classes having to be held in the homes of their volunteer Tutors.'
'Really? I don't like the sound of that. I hope they understand that when it comes to accidents and injury the Council would not want to accept responsibility.'
'Yes, Sir - I mean, no Sir. But if the U3A should be seen to falter - close down even - through lack of Council support…'
'Oh... it can't...Tell me it won't happen – not on my watch. Not in an election year...'
'Excuse me, Sir. I'll just take that call.'
'Alright. Well? What is it now?'
'A very large crowd of onlookers have arrived, shouting and chanting support for the U3A demonstrators.'
'What! Oh, well. Best if they let off a bit of steam, you know - all part of our great democratic way of life. No harm in that, you know. No harm at all'.
'But they're really egging them on, Sir. Our Security is again asking if they should call the Police to clear the foyer.'
'Certainly not! We can't throw pensioners out - well not in an election year!'
'They're shouting riotous things, Sir.'
'What sort of riotous things?'
'Get 'em off!’ ‘Show 'em what you've got!’ Yes, and ‘Give 'em a moon!’ Ohhh... now they're calling: ‘Give 'em The Full Monty’, Sir. You know what that means?'
'Too bloody right! I took my wife to see that movie. She led me to believe it was all about the war in North Africa. Now when I get undressed at night, she expects an instant replay! Look, tell Security to forget the Police and tell them it's their job to keep some sort of control down there, while we up here... work something out. And tell them to put some loud music out over the public address system. It just might drown them out… with a bit of luck!'
'Now I see the media have arrived to join the throng.'
'Media? Oh, no...no… if they start the Full Monty now - well, the mind absolutely boggles. The thought of all that aged, weary, pink and floppy flesh, being fully exposed in the morning papers... served up along with one's bacon and eggs. Disgusting! But what can we do, Henry, about their accommodation problem? Any spare cash we can get our hands on? Any funds lying about, unspent? Help me, Henry. Then perhaps, I can get on. I really must do your personal annual report, you know - I think I've got it here somewhere... '
'Oh… well, Sir, there is some unspent money relating to the latest study into the Northern Caboolture Bypass?’
'Which study is that?'
'Study Number 99, Sir.'
'Really – up to 99 already? No... we can't touch that. We always trot the bypass thing out in election year. It gets a good write-up in the press - along with my photo, of course. Anything else?'
'We have funds allocated for an underwater survey at the sewerage farm - can't seem to get anyone to undertake that.'
'Hardly surprising, Henry - workers are getting so picky these days. What else have you got?'
'There's still some money in the kitty for an archaeological dig for dinosaur fossils in Ningi, Sir. Nothing ever came of preliminary diggings.'
'Course not! A complete waste of time and money digging in the ground for dinosaurs in Ningi. They're there alright - but above ground, driving up and down Bribie Island Road every day! With either bald heads or purple coloured hair. Haven't we got something else - something big? I want to come out of this U3A thing smelling of roses.'
'Yes, Sir. There's a large sum of money put aside many years ago for a proposed Space Research facility on Bribie Island. It was put on hold over concern it might wipe out a rather rare native species.'
'Oh? Marsupial, I suppose?'
'No, Sir. The Bribie Mosquito.'
'I can believe it! No doubt they're busy getting their revenge - the mosquitoes I mean, for messing them about. But, is that it? I mean, is that all?'
'Yes, Sir!'
'Hmmm. You said we still had funds put aside for a Space Research facility, right? That's educational too, really, isn't it? The transfer of funds from one educational project to another educational project would hardly raise an eyebrow - would it?' Excitedly, the Mayor danced across to the window, to survey the crowd gathered below: 'You'd better go and speak kindly to those U3... what's-its, down there, Henry. Invite the leaders up for a little chat about accommodation.'
'Yes, Mr Mayor.'
'And Henry? Quick smart, now.’
‘Oh... Sir! Too late! I think I can hear them chanting: “da, da, da - da, da, da; da, da, da - da, da, daaa...”'