In the month I was born, Harry Truman announced the doctrine that was to bear his name: ‘the policy of the United States to support free peoples who are resisting attempted subjugation by armed minorities or by outside pressures.’
In the month the Art Student was born, the trial of Ethel and Julius Rosenberg began.
The first Sydney Gay Mardi Gras was held the month after our elder son was born.
Our second son was born a week the federal election that made Hawke Prime Minister of Australia.
Children born this month will be able to say, whoever wins, that they were born in the month of the Australian election that acted for all the world as if climate change was an issue that would be addressed (or not) elsewhere.
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I voted below the line for the Senate. There was only one person – as distinct from party – on the sheet that I positively wanted to vote for, namely John Faulkner. As I got further down the list I was faced with a series of delicious if inconsequential decisions: how should I order my preferences for One Nation, the Climate Change Denial Party, the Shooters Party, Family First, the Christian Democrats (aka Fred Nile and company), the Sex Party – and should I put some or all of them ahead of the Coalition? I can’t tell you what I decided because I don’t remember, but there was a certain exasperated pleasure in knowing that my vote would do no good to any of them.
Me fail? I fly! 