If the hokey-types in the television media are to be believed, the state government has, in the guise of by-elections, received a “wake-up call”.
The government has been in power for a while now, but surely the wake-up call occurred when Queen P’s satisfaction rating plummeted to below 32%.
When Wanda gives me a wake-up call at 2am, my eyes burst open like it’s the middle of the day and in my half-conscious state I reach for the baseball bat, a frying pan, or whatever else will rid the house of an unlikely intruder.
“Have you put the bins out,” she’ll usually say.
When the newspaper editor used to give me a wake-up call at 3am, I’d bump into walls racing for the fax machine.
Either World War III had broken out, or somebody had mis-spelt a name on the front page. Either way, it was an emergency.
These days, the wake-up call is more likely to come from the person next to me on a bus or a train, whose shoulder I’ve dampened with a trail of saliva.
As an older person, I’ve developed a superpower to sleep in public places, but we’ll leave that for more detailed discussion in a future column.
Regardless, I’m sure you catch my drift.
A wake-up call is something that stuns you into action.
Which, to the government’s credit, they did. They looked for a new leader and landed with “500 Miles” who’s been dishing out cash like it was thrown from a helicopter.
You see, unless those in the government who received the first wake-up call late last year managed to slip back into a deep sleep, the weekend’s by-elections were not a wake-up call.
They were the whack over the back of the head that said: “Now that you’re awake, it’s time to concentrate.”
Because when you’re running around the kitchen in the dark in an alert, albeit half-conscious state, looking for a frying pan to combat the would-be burglar, you’re not thinking entirely straight.
Never has it crossed your mind that the burglar – if they did indeed exist – might be wielding a weapon as they search for the keys to the car they’re trying to steal.
Then, you stop.
You put the kitchen cooking equipment back to its rightful place, and you think.
You weigh up why you’d received the wake-up call in the first place and you take a few moments to consider the possibilities.
Maybe there was a mouse that had sought the warmth of our bedroom and freaked poor Wanda out in the process.
Maybe Wags was blocked in the flap trap during a late-night wee break.
Or maybe it was just as Wanda had said: Tomorrow is bin day, and she was concerned I’d forgotten to do my job.
Perhaps if the government stopped running around throwing cash at every problem they perceive will lose them votes at the upcoming election, they’d take time to re-assess their job.
Perhaps if, after the 2am wake-up call, they’d take a moment to realise that there are a whole heap of people out there who’ve spent years trying to fix every-day problems.
Rather than telling people what to do, they’d take time to listen.
And instead of relying on senior bureaucrats to lead them to the same place they’ve been going for the past eight years, perhaps they can take that 2am wake-up moment to re-assess who they’re actually listening to.
Then, they’d see the woods for the trees and realise there are real people dealing daily with real issues.
And they’d see that these people are the ones with the real solutions.
Like me with the wheelie bins, they’d grab a torch, put some pants on, and do their job because there’s nothing worse than a stinky bin hanging around for an extra week.
Hey Wanda, thank you, my dear.
Turns out I needed that wake-up call. It really cleared my head.
